17.50
THE SACRED SHRINE:
A Study q/YA j Poetry and
Art of the C!ai<)lic Church
By YRJO HIRN
This is the first American edition of the
classic analysis of the aesthetics of Catholic
ritual and liturgy, long considered an essen-
tial book for students of the philosophy of
art and of religion,, and long unavailable
in English. Except for a Swedish edition,
it has been out of print for many years;
hence it has been intimately known only
to specialists,, and rare copies have brought
very high prices. Beacon brings it back
to English readers as a basic piece of
scholarship that should never have been
permitted to disappear. Writing in 1909,
Him brings out dozens of scholarly insights
of fact and interpretation which most
readers today attribute to the newer work
of the scholars responsible for the Revised
Standard Version of the Bible (1952) or
of those working with the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Him was half a century ahead of the
scholarship of his day.
The author examines in rich detail the
complicated mythology of Catholicism. He
discusses the dogma and the legends with
an inexhaustible wealth of learning, and
relates this information to the art of the
Church. Tn many ways, this study can be
thought of as a combination of cultural
anthropology and mythology as expressed
in various art forms. Even the most literate
layman will find fascinating new facts on
almost every pagefor example, in the
details and variations of the Mary Legend.
Tt is important to emphasize that Hirn's
point of view is that of the scholar and
(Continued on back flap)
w ocr i i
4 1976
246 H66
Him
The sacred, shrine
60-lllfJW.
1HE SA.CRED. SHRINE i
Yrjo Him (1870-1952) was professor of aesthetics and
modern literature at the University of Finland from 1910
to 1937. He was the author of The Origins of Art: A Psy-
chological and Sociological Inquiry (published in English
in 1900) and of studies of Johnson, Boswell, and Swift
(published in Swedish).
THE
SACKED SHRINE
A STUDY OF THE POETRY AND ART
OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH
BY
YRJO HIRN
BEACON PRESS Beacon Hill Boston
First published in Swedish in 1909. First published in English
in 1912 by Macmillan and Co., London.
First Beacon edition published 1957.
Printed in the United States of America
INTRODUCTORY
IT has not been possible to indicate the aim of the
present work by means of an unequivocal title. Some
introductory explanation as to the purpose of the
following investigations should not, therefore, be super-
fluous. The reader has a claim to know for what end
his attention is demanded ; the author, again, has the
right to defend himself against the misapprehensions
to which the name of his book may give rise.
The subject I propose to treat is connected with
the theory of Art, and the questions dealt with in the
following pages have all been apprehended as aesthetic
problems ; but in the treatment of these problems other
methods have been used than those of purely aesthetic
inquiry. The further the work proceeded, the more
evident became the necessity of taking into considera-
tion phenomena connected only indirectly with man's
artistic activity. Thus an investigation which was in-
tended to move within only a limited department, has
spread itself little by little over a far wider field of
study.
According to the original design, this book was to
vi THE SACEED SHEINE
serve as a commentary on the pictorial representations
of religious subjects. It seemed to the author that the
painting and sculpture of the Church would gain addi-
tional interest if they were displayed in relation to the
Church's poetry. In the case of highly developed art,
such a literary interpretation is doubtless superfluous.
The work of the Renaissance, and especially of the High
Renaissance, certainly does not require any textual com-
mentary in order to be immediately appreciated. In
Mediaeval art, however, there are many features which
seem strange to any one who has not been initiated into
the mediaeval conception of life ; and if here, too, the
purely artistic element can be understood and explained
only with the help of a criticism which, in the first place,
pays attention to the technical qualities, yet that element
is often hidden from the superficial view. Therefore the
study of the literary motive, which in modern art is
rightly considered to be of secondary importance, may,
in the case of the older painting, serve as a help to the
attention and an aid to the memory. For the present
writer, at any rate, the old pictures gained an additional
attraction after he had learned to recognise all the ideas
to which they gave expression ; and it seemed as if even
the religious sculptures and pictures would have more to
tell, from a purely artistic point of view, if one tried to
look at tkem as they were looked at by the faithful.
Thus, religious art led on to the study of the Christian
mythology; that is to say, to the legends and poems
which are illustrated in mediaeval works of art.
INTEODUCTOEY vii
This study, however, proved so attractive that it
soon engrossed attention for its own sake. Mediaeval
poetry opened a new and fascinating field of investiga-
tion, which it was not easy to abandon before at least
a general knowledge of the subject had been acquired.
When the time during which I had the opportunity of
devoting myself to the study of religious painting in the
native lands of art was finished, I thus directed my
chief interest instead to religious poetry. Here the
poets of the Early Christian period were the subject of
inquiry, no less than those of the Middle Ages proper.
In the subtleties of Ephraim Syrus, the mild unction
of Ambrosius, the decadent rhetoric of Hieronymus,
and in the late classic diction of Hilarius and Fortunatus,
I sought the characteristics of the literary production
of the older Church. Among the later authors were
examined especially Adam de S. Victor, Bernard of
Clairvaux, and the great poet who is called by modern
literary historians Bernard of Morlas. According to
my intention at that time, my work was to be an
aesthetic and literary description of the influence of
the works of art and the poems upon each other ; but
this scheme also had before long to be subjected to
alteration.
Mediaeval poetry cannot, indeed, any more than
mediaeval art, be explained as an isolated phenomenon.
The old poets remain strange to us so long as we know
only their works. On the other hand, these works do
not, like most modern literary productions, stand in any
viii THE SACKED SHBEsTE
indissoluble connection with historical conditions and
social environment. The poetry of the Church has
germinated, irrespective of the geographical milieu and
the historical moment, from that doctrine which, in its
essential characteristics, has remained unaltered in all
ages and in all lands. It is, therefore, to the field of
theological speculation that we must turn, if we are to
carry out the old rule that bids the critic " in Dichters
Lande gehen."
Eeligious conceptions, however, have claimed a far
more detailed study than the author originally antici-
pated. In the following chapters, indeed, this subject
occupies more space than may perhaps seem suitable in
an aesthetic investigation. During the progress of the
work it became *clear not only that the dogmas afford
explanations of particular works of art or poetry, but
also that in them we have to look for the innermost
principle of the leading qualities of Catholic Art.
What the artists have represented and the poets sung
has, in many cases, shown itself as a working-out of
aesthetic motives lying hidden in the theological system
of thought. Catholic doctrine is rich in poetic possi-
bilities ; and it has even occurred to the author that
the doctrine itself results from a speculation which in
great measure was directed by aesthetic aspirations. In
the purely theological writings of the Fathers of the
Church and of the Ascetics, one seems able continually
to trace effects of an artistic creation, which is none the
less significant although it is unconscious and uninten-
INTBODUCTOEY ix
tional. Thus from some great and common principles it
should be possible to explain a production which remains
homogeneous in its character, notwithstanding that it
expresses itself in such heterogeneous forms as dogmas,
poems, and pictures. This is what has been attempted
in the present work, which, having begun as a de-
scription purely of aesthetic and literary history, has
developed into a synthetic treatment of the aesthetic
characteristics of Catholic mentality.
In .so far as the subject has been widened, the
method has also necessarily been changed. The indi-
vidual works of art and poetry which, in accordance with
the original plan, were to be commented upon by the
help of the dogmatic conceptions, have, instead, been
brought forward simply as illustrations of the great
anonymous and collective poem decipherable in the
whole of the Church's doctrine. In order to preserve the
symmetry of the work, the number of examples drawn
from aesthetic and literary history has been reduced to
the farthest degree possible ; but in order, on the other
hand, that the bearing of the inquiry on the artistic
production may stand out with foil distinctness,
additional references have been introduced in supple-
mentary notes, which are not necessary for a compre-
hension of the text and which can be read independently
of it.
It ought to be mentioned, however, that in these
notes I have by no means attempted to attain com-
pleteness. Such an endeavour would have involved
THE SACBED SHEINE
the extension of the work far beyond the limits I
intended to set for it. The gaps which the reader will
observe in the lists of pictures and poems are there-
fore due to the fact that the aim of the investigation
is not descriptive. In the questions we have tried to
settle, nothing would have been gained by an augmenta-
tion of the number of examples.
The plan of the book also explains why the chrono-
logical order has not been observed with the same
exactitude that is necessary in a purely historical
account. It is not any particular phase in aesthetic
development that has here been the object of study,
nor is it any special poetical or art forms that I have
tried to explain. The subject of this inquiry is rather
that state of mind which, unaltered in its main features
through the ages, has lain at the foundation of the
aesthetic life of believing Catholics. In the citation of
examples I have, indeed, striven to take into account
the influence exercised by religious currents in various
times on the life of faith and on artistic production.
Nevertheless, it is primarily that which is common to
all periods, rather than that by which they differ, which
has been emphasised in the study. Such a method of
treatment is surely quite justifiable when we are deal-
ing with that Church which has, throughout its whole
development, sought to preserve the continuity of
tradition. In many cases we may explain the ideas
of modern Catholics by referring to dogmatists of the
thirteenth century, and in books of the present time we
INTRODUCTORY xi
may find a direct continuation of arguments set forth
by the ancient writers. The Catholic Church is a
Middle Age which has survived into the twentieth
century. Periods of time and geographical differences
signify little for the system of belief which claims
recognition semper, et ubique, et ab omnibus.
We have now indicated briefly what is not to be
looked for in the present work. What it attempts to
explain will appear in the first chapters. Here it only
remains to make clear the point of view adopted with
reference to the religious ideas which will be so fre-
quently touched upon and discussed.
It hardly needs to be specially mentioned that the
detailed accounts of religious customs and beliefs are
not intended to serve as an apology, still less as a
propaganda for Roman doctrine. The author has felt
himself quite at liberty to apply to all religious
conceptions a strictly scientific method of investiga-
tion ; but it has not seemed advisable to engage in
any examination of the rationality of Catholic dogmas.
By putting aside all objections for the time the inquiry
lasts, the argument is allowed to proceed without dis-
turbing interruptions. Such a method, which would
be improper in a philosophic or an ethical appreciation,
cannot but be advantageous in an aesthetic interpreta-
tion of the art-life of the Church.
It is a critic's duty to strive, to the best of his
power, to make his own the state of mind which
expresses itself in art and poetry. One must put one-
xii THE SACKED SHRINE
self in the mentality of the believer in order rightly to
estimate his aesthetic life. Looked at from the point
of view of an outsider, the manifestations of Catholic
Art appear in many cases meaningless and uninteresting ;
but the confusion becomes order, and the seemingly
unimportant becomes interesting, if one makes oneself
familiar with the world-philosophy which lies at the
basis of the aesthetic production. Such a familiarity is
by no means easy of attainment for one who is himself
a stranger to the religious way of looking at things ;
but the difficulties make the task attractive, and the
knowledge of the purport of the Art and Poetry which
one gains through such an experiment of thought
affords compensation for the effort. Therefore it has
seemed to me that an attempt to explain the art-life
of the Catholic Church from an inner point of view
ought not to be altogether vain. It is for the reader
to decide whether this belief has not been one of those
illusions which one is so prone to cherish at the com-
mencement of a long and laborious work.
CONTENTS
CHAPTEE I
PAGE
CATHOLIC ART ....... 1
CHAPTEE II
THE ALTAR ....... 13
CHAPTEK III
THE RELICS ....... 31
CHAPTER IV
THE RELIQUARY. ...... 48
CHAPTEK V
THE MASS ....... 66
CHAPTEE VI
THE HOLY OF HOLIES . .... 89
CHAPTEE VII
THE HOST . . . . . . .111
xiil
xiv THE SACKED SHRINE
CHAPTEE VIII
PAGE
THE MONSTRANCE . . . . . .137
CHAPTEE IX
THE TABERNACLE . . . . . .151
II
CHAPTEE X
THE DOGMA OF MARY . . . . . .171
CHAPTEE XI
THE GOSPEL OF MART . . . . . .194
CHAPTEE XII
MARY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA . . , 214
CHAPTEE XIII
THE CHILDHOOD OF MARY . . . . .250
CHAPTEE XIV
THE ANNUNCIATION . . . . . .271
CHAPTEE XV
THE INCARNATION . . . . . .294
CHAPTEE XVI
THE VISITATION . . . . . .317
CONTENTS
CHAPTEE XVII
PAGE
THE VIBGINAL BIRTH . . . . . .331
GHAPTEE XVIII
THE HOLT MANGER . . . . . . . 350
CHAPTEE XIX
THE SORROWING MOTHER . . . . .375
CHAPTEE XX
MARY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION . . . .405
CHAPTEE XXI
THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN . . . . .435
CHAPTEE XXII
THE SACRED SHRINE . . . . . .471
NOTES ........ 481
INDEX OF AUTHORITIES QUOTED . , .555
INDEX OF SUBJECTS 571
CHAPTEE I
CATHOLIC ART
L'ame des jours anciens a traverse la pierre
De sa douleur, de son encens, de sa priere
Et resplendit dans les soleils des ostensoirs.
Et tel, avec ses toits lustres comme un pennage,
Le temple entier parait surgir, au fond des soirs,
Comme une chasse enorme, ou dort le moyen age.
EMILE VERHAEKEN, Soir religieux.
IT is well known that Art, at the lowest stages of
aesthetic development, is closely connected with Eeli-
gion. Some eminent ethnologists have even asserted
that among savage peoples all Art is religious in its
innermost meaning. In order to establish this theory,
however, they have been compelled to apply the con-
ception of Eeligion in a very wide sense. They have
ranged under this heading all superstitious ideas and
magical customs, and have seen something religious
in the very reverence with which the inheritance of
ancestors whether consisting of implements or of
customs has been preserved by their descendants. By
means of such a use of terms they have been able to
maintain that for primitive man dramas, dances, and
poems, no less than pictures and ornaments, always
serve an end that is more religious than aesthetic.
.Against this conception many just objections have
2 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
been raised. Eidicule has been cast on the learned
bias which has led earnest investigators to grope after
some hidden and sacred meaning in carvings and
paintings that may well have their sole origin in some
casual impulse of an idle hand ; and it has been
advanced that at any rate the simplest songs and
dances are most easily explained as outbursts of
emotional pressure which in itself has no connection at
all with religious feeling. However sound in principle,
this reaction from a fantastic zeal for interpretation
may nevertheless lead to a too radical scepticism. On a
more careful examination it has in many separate cases
appeared that primitive works of art, which seemed to
be entirely devoid of any deeper meaning, are, in reality,
full of symbolic and religious import. It is therefore
impossible to determine with exactitude to what degree
Keligion plays a part in the aesthetic life of savage
peoples. A priori discussion can have no weight in a
problem which can only be settled after all the known
races of men have been the subject of a thorough study
by both folk-lorists and psychologists. 1
In tins work, however, it is by no means necessary
to pronounce any judgment as to the exact measure
of the influence exercised by Eeligion on art-production.
Without being compelled to embark on any examination
of the facts advanced on both sides, we can draw from
the mere discussion of the difficult question two con-
clusions which are quite decisive for our purpose. The
one conclusion, now recognised by all parties, is that
the aesthetic manifestations of the lower races of men
stand, on the whole, in a much closer relation to
Eeligion, than does the art of civilised peoples. The
other conclusion is that the religious element in
primitive productions is often concealed from the
CATHOLIC AET
uninitiated observer that is to say, as repeated discus-
sions have proved, we can only with difficulty form
any idea as to the religious or non-religious character
of the particular art-forms from the concrete works
and manifestations themselves.
The close connection between Eeligion and Art has
its basis in a circumstance which can be unfailingly
observed in lower peoples. The " Eeligion " of primitive
man dominates the whole of both his individual and
his social life. He traces the influence of the unknown
divine powers everywhere, and, in consequence, even
his most ordinary activities become associated with
religious feelings and ideas. But if his conception of
the material world is thus consistently spiritualistic, or
perhaps rather animistic, his conception of the soul
and the divine is, on the other hand, as consistently
materialistic. Although Eeligion penetrates his entire
being, and confers its grave dignity on even the least
important actions, yet it is not capable of raising
itself perceptibly above everyday existence. When the
religious life expresses itself in artistic production, it is
consequently difficult for the uninitiated to distinguish
this expression from profane art.
Such, characterised generally, appears to be the
relation between Art and Eeligion at the lowest
stages of development. For the clearness of the
argument it is best to pass by all intermediate
phases, and proceed immediately to the highest forms
of belief.
In the degree that ideas of the divine are spiritualised,
the difference between religious and profane art is more
firmly established; but in the same degree, also, the
field of religious art becomes limited. The terrestrial
and the celestial no longer blend with one another, but
4 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
stand as opposites. Little by little the unknown powers
lose the anthropomorphic or zoomorphic form in which
they revealed themselves to primitive imagination.
Consequently pictorial art entirely loses its importance
as a means of effecting a union between mankind and
the Supreme Being, Dancing, the drama, and decora-
tion are looked upon as unworthy forms of homage
to a Power which is conceived of as raised above the
world of sense ; and poetry and music, the least material
of all the arts, become the only expressions which are
permitted to serve the aims of religious life. Even
poetry occupies a relatively insignificant place in the
ritual system of those religions which are intellectually
and morally the most severe.
In fortunate cases a rich secular production may
develop by the side of a poor religious art ; but where
a stern religion maintains its hold over the mind,
it easily tends to stifle, or at least seriously to limit,
aesthetic life. Thus among the most thoroughgoing
Lutherans, as among the Jansenists and Puritans, Art
leads a languishing life. This general assertion is not con-
tradicted by the fact, so frequently adduced, that some
individual kinds of aesthetic production are directly
promoted by these intellectualist forms of Religion.
The psychological and the moral novel, the depicting
of nature and realistic portraiture those specifically
Protestant art-forms cannot outweigh the loss of all
the aesthetic manifestations which have been suppressed
in many Protestant societies. Whether it be ultimately
due to a racial characteristic of the peoples who carried
through and adopted the Reformation, or to peculiarities
in the Protestant creed itself, it is an indisputable fact
that the very form of the Christian religion which for
us stands as intellectually the purest of all, has only in
CATHOLIC ABT
a small degree allowed its aims to be served by aesthetic
production. 2
By means of these hasty indications, the contrast
between the lowest and the highest doctrines ought
already to appear with sufficient distinctness. Where
religion is undeveloped, as among primitive peoples, it
has given rise to a considerable aesthetic production;
where its manifestation is intellectually and morally
purest, the corresponding religious art is poor. This
is the one antithesis. The other one is no less
significant. The ideas of divinity which lie at the
foundation of the rich religious art of primitive and
barbaric man, are not sufficiently lofty to give this art
a specifically religious character ; the ideas, on the other
hand, which lie at the foundation of the most intellectual
Christianity, are too lofty to allow of their being united
with the sensuous element in aesthetic production. If
we want to study the psychological connection between
religious and aesthetic life, neither of these extreme
forms can afford us the material we require. Were it
here our task to treat of general emotional states
without reference to corresponding positive doctrines
of faith it would not be difficult to find near at hand
an intermediate form between the two contrasted types
of religion. The philosophy of life which is adopted
by the majority of modern agnostics is often uncon-
sciously religious, so far as its emotional tone is con-
cerned. Again, the ideas of the unknowable that enter
into such a pantheistic or monistic world-philosophy
attach themselves as closely to all the manifestations of
earthly life as is the case even with a primitive religion.
They do not give rise to any irreconcilable opposition
between the sensuous and the non-sensuous^ the natural
and the supernatural, but, on the other hand, they are
6 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
not so materialistic and anthropomorphic as the world-
view of lower man. Thus if that use of terms be
recognised, according to which all severe and lofty art
is characterised as being in its essence religious, it will
perhaps be found that the most elevated religious works
of art have no connection whatever with positive
doctrines of faith. In this work, however, it is only
the historical religions which are to be considered.
After all the explanation that has been given, it is
not necessary to advance further reasons for the fact
that the material for the following inquiry has been
derived from that form of Religion which unites in
itself elements from the lowest and the highest forms
of belief, that is to say, Roman Catholic Christianity.
That the Catholic belief has exercised a powerful in-
fluence on aesthetic development cannot be gainsaid
by any impartial observer. During long and glori-
ous periods of Art-history, aesthetic production worked
obediently in the service of religion. The Church was
the Maecenas which, with its moral and financial support,
assisted the masters of the early Renaissance in nearly
all their work. Since these times, indeed, purely Church
art has sunk it would seem, hopelessly from its lofty
position ; but that the creed itself continues to possess
a strong attraction for artistic minds is evident from the
great number of converts obtained by Catholicism from
among poets and painters.
Many reasons can easily be given to account for the
power of the Roman Church over men who possess a
pronounced aesthetic temperament. The external pomp
of its ceremonies is the attraction which is most frequently
adduced when the question of the successful propaganda
of Catholicism arises ; but this pomp, as it is found in
modern churches, is as a rule too barbaric to appeal
CATHOLIC ABT
to a "cultivated taste. Far greater weight should, we
think, be attached to the circumstance that the Catholic
Church, through its ceremonies, connects itself so nearly
with the existence of its individual members. Every
event in their lives is distinguished and sanctified by
a special sacrament The believer feels bound to the
Church, and in all his troubles is aware of the support
of its authority. The fact that the ceremonies thus
push their way into life with Baptism in the Church,
public Confirmation and Marriage, Confession and
Absolution, Extreme Unction and Communion on the
death -bed must naturally give rich nourishment to
the religious -aesthetic feelings. It is not only the
advocates of Catholicism who have had eyes for this
power in the Roman Community. No less convincingly
than Chateaubriand in Genie du christianisme? Goethe
in Dichtung und Wahrheit has enlarged upon the signi-
ficance to religion of the many sacraments. 4 One can
assert quite literally that for pious Catholics the whole
of life takes the form of an external visible service of
God. 5 In this, as in so many other respects, the cere-
monial system of the Roman Church resembles the cults
of primitive and barbaric peoples.
The similarity, however, should not lead to identifica-
tion. On the ground of the magical features in its ritual
the Roman religion has often, especially in Protestant
polemic, been represented as a materialistic heathendom ;
but in doing so, the fact has been overlooked that the
material and the visible comprises only one side of a
Catholic ceremony. However closely this religion may
connect itself with what is earthly, yet it does not
become absorbed in the phenomena of sense. The
divine is not subjected, as is the case to a certain extent
among savage peoples, to being jumbled together with
8 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
the natural ; on the contrary, the transcendence of the
Supreme Being is insisted upon in the Catholic dogmas
as emphatically as in the most iiitellectualistic of the
Protestant confessions. But this Supreme Being, which
in itself is raised above the world of sense, is not entirely
beyond the reach of the perception of sense. Through
the religious miracle it enters into connection with earthly
elements, and through this connection it allows itself to
be appropriated not only by the thought but also by
the senses. It is by this doctrine of a mystic union
between the visible and the invisible that the Catholic
cult achieves its characteristic quality ; and it is by
reason of the same doctrine that Catholic art is more
aesthetic than Protestant art, and more religious than
heathen art
In order to learn to know the distinctive qualities
of Catholic art we must, therefore, direct our attention
to those dogmas which express the thought of the
connection of the Supreme Being with the world of
sense. It is in two conceptions, especially, that this
thought asserts itself: in the doctrine of the Presence
of the Divinity in the Sacrament of the Altar, and in
the doctrine of the Incarnation of the Divinity in the
human mother. These two doctrines determine the
titles and the contents of the parts into which this
work falls the Mass and the Cult of the Madonna.
The most important of the aesthetic manifestations which
serve the end of the Catholic religion arrange themselves
naturally under one or the other of those headings.
The material for the following investigations will
thus be grouped according to dogmatic principles ; but
at the same time an attempt will be made to treat
the different art -forms separately, as far as possible.
Such a twofold division can be carried out easily
CATHOLIC AET
and without prejudice to the plan of the work.
Indeed, from the nature of the subject itself, archi-
tecture, decorative art, and religious pantomime form
the principal contents of the chapters dealing with
the Mass ritual. lir the account of the Cult of the
Madonna, again, sculpture, painting, and poetry will
be the primary subjects of treatment. From art-
forms, which, if not the oldest, are at any rate the
simplest, the investigation will thus proceed to higher
and freer lines of aesthetic production. And the begin-
ning is made with that art which presents the most
concrete subjects of study the art of decoration, or,
more properly, artistic handicraft. The first things
to be examined, therefore, will be the forms and orna-
mentation of the furniture and instruments directly
or indirectly connected with the Mass ritual.
Before proceeding to an inquiry into all the
numerous objects which together make up the depart-
ment of Catholic applied art, we should first ascertain,
however, whether among them there is no particular
implement which has before all others been favoured
with adornment. Such typical objects, around which
decoration concentrates, and in which one may read off,
so to say, the dominating characters in an art-style, are,
as a rule, to be found in the production of most periods
and nations. The water-jar of the Pueblo Indians if
I may refer to some earlier studies of my own is such
a typical object, which represents its nation and which,
better than any other implement, gives us information
about the ways and ideas of this people. The shields
of the Dyaks painted with ghastly ornaments, and
hung with tufts of human hair give in monstrous
summary a picture of the wild ways and the highly
developed art of these savage head-hunters. And, to
10 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
quote a more celebrated example, how much do not the
vases tell us about old Grecian life those vases which
have served so many varying purposes; from which
mirth has been drawn at banquets ; in which gifts have
been offered in the temples ; which enclose the ashes of
the deceased; and in which pious survivors have collected
the tears they have wept over their beloved dead ? It-
would seem, therefore, as if much would be gained
towards a clear conception of Catholic art if we could
lay hold of some typical object which, not with regard
to form and purpose, but with regard to its dominating
and representative r61e, corresponded in a sense to the
Grecian vase.
If this work fulfils its purpose, it will demonstrate
that such a typical and representative object of
Catholic art can indeed be pointed out. What the
following chapters attempt to prove can, however, be
put forward here only as a proposition. Catholic
art does not form and embellish a vase, but it
ornaments a shrine. Chests, cases, or small boxes
in a word, closed coverings which conceal valuable
contents are the most holy, and therefore the most
beautifully formed and most expensively decorated
of all the objects met with in ritualistic art. So
dominating is the place which the shrine occupies
among religious objects, that the idea of a shrine
is continually meeting us even in the art which is
not formative. A sealed case is the centre of Catholic
poetry, as it is the centre of Catholic ceremonial.
One might even risk the assertion that Catholic art
as a whole, in all its manifestations, decorates a sacred
shrine. Such a thesis could easily be defended, if the
word were used figuratively ; but it holds good to a
certain degree even in a purely literal meaning. It is
CATHOLIC AET 11
the author's hope that it will appear from the following
inquiry that Catholic imagination, by means of a
number of, to us, bizarre associations of ideas, has
succeeded in bringing an ever -increasing part of the
religious ideas into the image of a Sacred Shrine.
The detailed exposition of these associations of ideas
cannot be presented until the last chapter of this book.
Here, after the object of the work has been indicated,
nothing remains to be done except to proceed to the
inquiry, in which the reader will find according
to his opinion of the demonstration a proof or a
refutation of the author's idea. The inquiry, again,
ought naturally to begin at that place round which
the cult -system of the Church concentrates itself;
and this place cannot be other than the altar, at
which is celebrated the Mass, the supreme sacrament.
The altar is not, indeed, in a strict sense, the
middle point of a church; but none the less does
it mark its constructive, if not its geometrical centre.
The chief altar is, as a rule, situate immediately below
the keystone of the cupola or of the choir-vault. 6 In
many cases it is underneath its place that the founda-
tion stone of the Church has been laid. 7 The table
for the Mass is, therefore, not a piece of furniture
which has been placed in the building, but it is rather
the kernel round which the building itself has been
raised. Certainly in the Roman Catholic churches
this circumstance does not stand out with full dis-
tinctness, because in them there have been set up
not one but several altars. But the many side-chapels
which, it may be said in parenthesis, are met with
even in the earlier Middle Ages 8 cannot, however,
conceal the importance of the one chief altar, which
in virtue of its position dominates the entire plan
12 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP, i
of the church. And if it is thus towards an altar
that all lines of the building converge, it is also at
the chief and at the small altars that the holiest
objects have been collected. Pictures, sculptures, and
decorative art combine to make the place round the
Mass -table more beautiful and more venerable than
any other in the church.
Among all the works of art and ritual instru-
ments to be found here, we ought, if the presump-
tions of this inquiry are correct, to find some
decorated shrines. And, indeed, we stand in front
of the chief of the typical objects before we have
time even to begin any proper search. For the Mass-
table in itself is a covering for sacred contents, and
it formerly even bore a name which indicated this
characteristic. Gregory of Tours, when speaking of the
altar, makes use not of the words "ara" or "altare,"
but of the word "area," that is to say, box or ark. 9
That which in the Protestant Church is nothing but
a table for the holy meal, in the Catholic Church is
also a chest, which guards in its interior the precious
relics of a saint.
How it has come about that the Mass-table thus
fulfils a double object is a question which cannot be
answered without entering into a detailed inquiry
into the history of the Christian altar. The following
chapter will be devoted, therefore, to the treatment
of this, the first of the holy shrines of Catholic art.
CHAPTER II
THE ALTAR
If a star were confined into a tomb,
Her captive flame must needs burn there ;
But when the hand that locked her up gave room,
She'd shine through all the sphere.
HENRY VAUGHA.N, Sacred Poems,
WHEN, under the guidance of the courteous Trappist
monks, one wanders through the dark sepulchral
chambers of San Callisto's Catacombs outside Rome,
some time is always passed in one of the small under-
ground chapels. The cicerone, who with evident satis-
faction has made the utmost use of his release from
his Order's seal of silence, here becomes more talk-
ative than ever. If the least interest is shown in
his narration, it becomes a whole lecture. A simple
grave, let into the wall, whose flat lid is said to have
been used as a Mass-table, forms the starting-point
for a long discourse on the history of the ancient
Basilica ; and it is with triumphant satisfaction that
the Trappist ends his lecture with the assertion that
only in the Catacombs, in his Catacombs, can one learn
to understand the architecture of the great churches
overground.
This theory, which in a very popularised version
is expounded to the tourists in S. Callisto, has not been
13
14 THE SACEEB SHKINE CHAP.
without advocates among experts who possess greater
authority than the simple monk. From the very begin-
ning of last century attempts have often been made
to trace the origin of the peculiaxities in the plans of
Christian churches back to the arrangements in the crypts
of the Catacombs. The cult received its character, it has
been said, during the time the assembly was persecuted.
The first fully -developed ceremonies were performed
in the small subterranean chapels. When peace ulti-
mately supervened and Christian worship was officially
recognised, all the arrangements to which people had
become accustomed during the persecutions of the
heroic age are said to have been maintained. Accord-
ing to this theory the Altar preserved in its coffin-like
shape the memory of that grave -table an arcosol-
tomb or a ce sepolcro a znensa" 1 at which holy Mass
is said to have been performed in the Catacombs,
and the church itself became in its ground plan an
enlarged copy of the subterranean chapel The Basilica,
the official house of assembly overground, would thus
have repeated on a larger and grander scale the leading
architectural ideas of the hidden meeting-places. 2
To the imagination there is something fascinating
in the conception of a Church which had thus risen
out of the interior of the earth and which, as soon
as it had been freed from coercion, unfolded in the full
light of day the same forms which it had of necessity
adopted in the narrow and dark sepulchral chambers.
Unfortunately, however, later and more critical research
has led to results which make it impossible to support
this tempting theory to the extent maintained by the
older archaeologists and, following their example, by so
many popular writers. Modern art historians have
shown that the Catacomb chambers were much too
ii THE ALTAB 15
narrow to allow of space for public worship. 3 Besides
this, they have even pointed out that the community
had no cause to conceal its services underground. With
the exception perhaps of the worst persecutions, the
Christians were able during the time before Constantine,
as well as after, to celebrate their worship overground,
within certain fixed boundaries allotted to them.
There is therefore, it is said, no reason to appeal to the
Catacombs if we wish to explain the architectural plan
of the Basilica. Although the question of the origin of
the Christian type of church building has not hitherto
been settled by any generally recognised theory, yet the
majority of investigators are now agreed that this origin
is not to be sought for in the subterranean chapel. 4 The
idea again that the sepulchral chambers were used as
churches is considered as a delusion which writers do not
even give themselves the trouble of seriously opposing.
Those who have derived most of their knowledge of
the earliest Christian architecture out of books, have no
right to combat the professional verdict. It is therefore
impossible to do other than sacrifice the romantic
idea of a Church preparing in obscurity underground
the forms it was to adopt when it had won a recognised
position ; but it does not follow from this that there
is no justification for the contention of the older
archaeologists as to the importance of the grave to
Christian architecture. The possibility is not excluded
that the architectural arrangements in the church were
influenced by sepulchral models in some other way than
was formerly supposed. Indeed, it appears, on a closer
examination, that there is after all something worthy of
consideration in the lecture of the enthusiastic Tra.ppist.
Without studying the dwelling-places of the dead, it is
impossible to understand fully that house which is an
16 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
abode for the Divinity and a meeting-place for His
community; and what is still more important in this
connection is that only by referring to an influence from
the sepulchral buildings can we explain how the Altar
has received its characteristic form.
It must not be supposed that the type of altar, which
is now to be found in nearly all churches, whether old
or new, was prevalent during the early Christian period.
Just as the primitive community possessed no special
places of worship, but was content to celebrate its
services in private houses, so there was no special
liturgical furniture or implements. " Cur nullas aras
habent, templa nulla, nulla nota simulacra ? " so with
reproachful surprise the heathen interlocutor asks in the
dialogue of Minucius Felix. 5 The table at which the
holy meal was distributed was, like the first com-
munion table, a simple everyday object. No symboli-
cal thoughts attached themselves to its form, and
no decoration embellished its surfaces. During the
first centuries it was considered that even wood was
a perfectly satisfactory material for the manufacture
of altars. When, later, the use of stone tables became
more and more common, the old type was maintained,
i.e. that of a smooth table-top supported by legs,
between which the space was empty. It is true that
there have not been preserved to our own day many of
these altars which literally give a reason for the name
communion table ; but a sufficiently clear knowledge
of their form can be derived from the descriptions
to be found in the literature of the Fathers, and from
the representations to be found on old mosaics. 7
Parallel with the development by which the church
building separates itself from the profane house, there
ii THE ALTAE IT
occurs, however, another development by which the
Mass-table separates itself in its form and its symbolic
meaning from an ordinary table. In the fifth century,
at about the time when the Christian church stood out
as an independent type of architecture, the old table was
replaced by an altar proper, that is, a box-shaped piece
of furniture, whose top is supported by solid walls, and
not by free legs. 8 And according to some theories, the
new forms of both the church and the Mass-table can
be attributed partly to the same causes.
That the church received the type of a Basilica was
probably due to the influence of various heathen models,
which it is not necessary to enumerate here, all the less
as their relative importance is still a matter for dispute
among archaeologists. In this connection we need
adduce only that hypothesis according to which a
part of the Basilica, the so-called apse, was developed
from some small chapels which the Christians had erected
at their burial-places as early as the pre-Constantine
times. During the period when the new belief was not
yet recognised as a religion on a level with others, the
Christians preferred to meet at the tombs. They were
sheltered from persecution within the radius sanctified
by the presence of the dead. It has even been
supposed that the community had from time to time
been tolerated as a burial college. 9 After the heathen
model, it was possible to erect in the neighbourhood of
the graves small memorial " cellae " most often placed
right over one of the most important graves in which
service was celebrated without disturbance on the
Saint's day. 10 After the persecutions had ceased, the
meetings continued to be held at the old burial-places,
from habit and respect for the dead; but as the
original building soon proved insufficient to hold all the
18 THE SACRED SHKINE CHAP.
faithful, a nave was added to the "cella," which now
became the apse of the church. According to Kraus, it
is in such an arrangement that the origin of the Roman
Basilica is to be sought. 11 It is indeed significant, that
so many of the greatest and most famous churches of the
fourth and fifth centuries are situated outside the towns,
" extra muros," i.e. on the very space which had origin-
ally been set apart for the burial of the dead. 12 Thus,
according to Kraus's theory, the church had grown out
of a grave chapel yet from a chapel above ground,
and not, as was earlier believed, from the sacred
chambers of the Catacombs. A dead-house had been
the determining factor in the situation and arrangement
of the Basilica, even if it had not been the model for its
architecture.
No attempt will be made here to test the correctness
of Kraus's theory, against which a number of weighty
objections have been raised. The unsolved problem of
the origin of the Basilica has been touched on only
for the reason that the various, and more or less
disputed, hypotheses have been supported by a number
of indisputable facts which all demonstrate the close
connection of the early Christian Church with the
burial-place. This connection must have had its in-
fluence on the form and symbolism of the Altar. It
may be taken for granted, a priori, that the Mass-
table In a church which rises among graves and over
graves has gathered round itself some of the ideas
which were earlier associated with the graves. To
explain in detail the course of this transference of
ideas and of the accompanying transformation of the
Altar, we must first of all examine the worship cele-
brated at the burial-places during the fourth and fifth
centuries.
ii THE ALTAE 19
When Christianity became recognised under Con-
stantine as the State religion, its cult was no longer so
simple and pure as during the Apostolic period. How-
ever bravely the community had withstood the per-
secutions, it had nevertheless often found itself compelled
to conceal its inner life under outer forms which offered
a protective resemblance to heathen customs ; and how-
ever unconscious and unintentional this mimicry may
have been, yet it must in any case, like every other
artifice, have gradually influenced nature itself. The
circumstance that a Christian service was celebrated in
burial-chapels had given the Church a kind of inviolable
existence under the protection of the dead ; but it had
at the same time reacted on the purity of the Church's
teaching. It is easy to imagine what conclusion would
arise from the local connection between burial-place and
temple. To the heathen onlookers it appeared obvious
that the Christians worshipped their dead inside the
chapels ; and even for new converts it must have often
been difficult to draw a strict distinction between the
invisible God, to whom the worship was directed, and
all the human presences around, which in their old
religion they had been taught to reverence with the
dutiful " pietas " of the survivor.
An external circumstance, such as the situation of
the church building, would not, however, have alone
sufficed to lead to any far-reaching results, if the grave
had not in itself assumed an important place in the
Christian's world of ideas. From death and the grave,
so it ran, should the convert through baptism go forward
to his new life (Rom. vL 3-4 ; Col. ii 12). By reason of
these Pauline utterances, the symbolism of the grave has
influenced both the ritual of baptism and the form of the
ancient baptismal churches. 13 Still more obvious effects
20 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
must have sprung from ail the ideas and customs con-
nected, not with the symbolical grave to which Paul
refers in his poetic word -picture, but with the actual
house of the dead.
In this connection it must be remembered that
the new religion, however sharply it opposed heathen
ancestor-worship, was nevertheless of a nature directly
to encourage reverence for burial-places. The Christian
doctrine of immortality involved an increased devotion
in approaching the rooms which were no longer looked
upon as the abode of bloodless ghosts, but out of which,
instead, the flesh itself would one day arise. 14 The
pictures and inscriptions in subterranean Rome demon-
strate clearly enough that the survivors' relation to the
dead had won an increased intimacy through Christianity.
When the dead, through various merits, had earned the
gratitude of the community, tender recollection was
soon changed to reverence and entreaty, and thus there
arose on Christian soil a kind of cult of the dead, which
approached in its expression the ancestor-worship of the
heathen.
The times through which the Church had passed
were to an unusual degree favourable for the de-
velopment of such a cult. During the persecutions
Christianity had acquired its heroic tales, which could
well compare with the traditions of the heathen nations ;
and the new heroes, the martyrs, no less than the old
demi-gods, became the object of the pious worship of
their devotees. That this worship often took grossly
superstitious forms appears from the generally prevalent
custom of burying a dead body in the closest possible
proximity to the bones of the martyrs, which were
considered to afford by their propinquity special advan-
tages to the later dead during the coming life. 15 But
ii THE ALTAR 21
the reverence for witnesses to the faith gave rise on
the other hand to some peculiar ceremonies, which,
although they were heathen In their origin, were none
the less impressed with a Christian character. It was
indeed nothing but pure ancestor-worship which lived
on in the custom of offering wine and bread at the
martyrs' graves that custom for which even the pious
Monica had to sustain the reproaches of Ambrosius ; 16
and heathen, too, were the pilgrimages which were
arranged at certain times to the memorial chapels in
the cemeteries. 17 But there is something of the new
religion's conception of Immortality in the custom of
laying small birthday tables, with festal decorations
of palm leaves and red roses, on the martyr's grave,
on the anniversary of the day when the witness, as
with conscious paradox it was expressed, through his
sacrificial death had been bom into the new life. And
Christianity set its seal on the ancient customs when
it began to distribute the Sacrament to the pious
pilgrims who collected round the graves at these
memorial festivals. 18
At this distribution of the Sacrament there had
perhaps originally been used some special altars which
had the old form of a movable table supported by
legs, but the use of the grave itself as an altar-table
must easily have suggested itself. Eeference has already
been made to the generally prevalent idea that the
community down in the Catacombs celebrated its com-
munion by the graves, which had their place under the
arcosol-vaults, or by the so-called " sepolcri a mensa."
It has also been stated that the latest investigations
do not appear to strengthen this theory. But even
if it were true, as Schultze categorically says, that
during the persecutions not even any private cele-
22 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
bration of the "missa ad corpus" (i.e. any mass by
a grave) ever took place, 19 yet it seems more than
probable that the communion was distributed from
that kind of great "martyr graves" erected under the
open sky, which are still to be met with in many
places in the East and in Africa. 20 And there is an
indubitable proof that, at any rate during the post-
Gonstantine period, a Roman catacomb-grave was used
as a communion table. When Prudentius in his Pen-
stephanon sings of S. Hippolitus's life, he also describes
the grave in which the martyr's body had been laid :
Talibus Hlppolyti corpus mandatur opertis
propter ubi apposita est ara dicata Deo.
Ilia sacrament! donatriz inensa, eademque
ctistos fida sui martyris apposita
servat ad aeterni spem judicis ossa sepulcro,
pascit item sanctis Tibricolas dapibus.
"This table which offers the Sacrament, covers the
faithful martyr's bones that were laid here to await
the Eternal Judge, and at the same time gives to the
people by the Tiber spiritual food at the holy meals." 21
It ought now to be evident why it was necessary
to give an account of the graves and burial customs
of the early Christians. However incomplete our
knowledge of the oldest cult may be, and however
much the decisions of specialists may contradict each
other, yet from the material at hand it is possible
to deduce one irrefutable conclusion. Although we
are compelled to refrain from any opinion as to the
services which were possibly celebrated during the
first century in the subterranean chapels, still we
can venture to assert that, at the time when the
great public churches arose, the sacrament of the
altar was often distributed from a table surface cover-
II THE ALTAE 23
Ing a grave. No long explanations are necessary to
demonstrate how Important to the feelings of the
faithful must have been the fact that two objects of
worship were thus united In one place. The same
stone that served to protect a sacred body afforded
room for something still more sacred, the great
sacrificial mystery. The "area," i.e. the chest which
contained the martyr's bones, became an " ara," i.e. a
table bearing the flesh and blood of the divine man.
As soon as these two ideas were once, perhaps from
accidental reasons, associated, a conscious effort was
made In all churches to bring the altar into the closest
possible connection with the grave.
It is this effort which lay at the root of the
development of the altar- type. The different forms
which the Mass-table has received have been determined
by the attempt to connect this table with the grave
of a saint. When the definite form appears, the
connection has been replaced by complete identity ;
but this final development was preceded by a number
of transitional types, which show clearly how the
table and the grave -chest gradually approximated.
In order to give a clear idea of the symbolism of the
altar, it is necessary to describe shortly these inter-
mediate forms. We may, however, be excused for
avoiding the difficult task of fixing the dates for the
first appearances of the respective types. No attempt
will be made In this connection to determine even their
mutual order. The logical relation between simple
and complex will be kept in view, rather than the
chronological relation between earlier and later forms.
In those cases-' where the church was erected over
subterranean graves, pains had probably been taken
as far back as the first century to place the altar right
24 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
above the principal grave. When later it was desired
to connect further these two sacred objects, it was
easy to open a path from the floor of the church to
the lower sanctuary. Such "aditus ad sanctos" have
been found in a large number of the old Roman
churches. This arrangement is very important for
the history of ecclesiastical architecture. It may be
regarded as the first model for the stairs which, in so
many of both the older and the more recent churches,
connect the apse with the subterranean crypt, that
curious equivalent to the old catacomb chapel. 22 On the
actual form of the Mass -table, however, the " aditus ad
sanctos" could in itself have no influence. It can
easily be imagined that the altars, which were con-
nected by a stair-path with the grave, continued to
retain their form of a table, between the legs of which
the space was free.
The case was quite different in churches which
were erected around a sarcophagus above ground. If
in them the altar was placed close to the grave, there
was naturally no need to open any path from the one
holy place to the other. The table raised its surface,
it may be imagined, a little in front of and above the
sarcophagus-chest, which was thus enclosed between its
legs. That is to say, an arrangement had been reached
which corresponded to the description of the heavenly
altar seen by the author of the Apocalypse :
" Et cum aperuisset sigillum quintum, vidi subtus altare animas inter-
fectomm propter verbum Dei, et propter testimonium quod babebant."
" And when He (the Lamb) had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the
altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the
testimony which they held" (Apocalypse, vi 9).~ 3
The grave, or to use the ecclesiastical expression, the
" confessio," stood like a little cabinet under the table.
ii THE ALTAR
Its gable afforded room for rich decorations, for
which the heathen " clppa " must have served as model.
As this ancient type of grave always had In its
front an opening, through which the funeral urn
was introduced into the little chamber of the dead,
so too the Christian " confessio " was furnished with a
door or a window which made it possible to look in
upon the sacred relics. 24
There has been preserved no small n amber of
altar-tables enclosing between their supports a little
martyr-cabinet. 25 It must not, however, be taken for
granted that the " confessio " would in all these cases
be a sarcophagus which was originally situated under
the open sky and over which the church was later
erected. It is only on theoretic grounds that we can
suppose that old graves were enclosed by the altar-
table without being subjected to any alteration. And
it must further be recognised that the hypothesis of
such a development is not indispensable to the ex-
planation of the history of the altar. Judging from
the dimensions and form of the martyr -cabinet, it Is
probable that the sacred relics were in most cases
specially transferred to their position under the altar,
and that on the model of the " cippa" a new repository
was there set up for them.
Such a transference of the bodies of martyrs was
the most practical of all means for bringing the altar
and the grave into connection with one another. 26 And
when this expedient had sometimes been made use of,
the ultimate solution of the problem must ha.ve sug-
gested itself spontaneously : the body of the martyr
was placed between the legs of the altar-table, and
these legs were connected by solid walls ; or the table
surface was supported not by separate legs, but by
26 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP.
four walls, and the lioly relics were enclosed within
these walls. 27 Thus the Mass-table was merged in the
grave-chest, i.e. it was now the "ara" which became
an "area," and the place from which the sacrament
was distributed coincided with the place at which the
remains of saints were worshipped.
Hitherto our concern has been only with church
buildings erected in the neighbourhood of cemeteries.
One might therefore imagine that the whole of the
development here sketched has had no general im-
portance for Christian architecture. So great, however,
was the influence exercised on Christian ritual by the
grave cult, that the arrangements of the sepulchral
churches were, before long, imitated even in the Basilicas
situated within the town walls. The chest form gradu-
ally became the dominant one among Christian altars,
and what is more important, the Mass-table became a
reliquary, not only in its outer shape, but also in its
idea. It was considered, perhaps on the basis of the
passage from the Apocalypse quoted above, that an
altar was not complete unless it concealed under its
surface some sacred bones. This claim, again, was not
difficult to satisfy after people had begun to divide the
bones of martyrs into small pieces in order to fulfil the
growing needs of saint-worship. Some such fragments
were introduced under the surface of the altar in a
square space which received the name of " sepulcrum,"
and which was covered by a little marble slab the so-
called " sigillum." The grave and its seal thus became
marked out on the Mass -table, and the custom of
enclosing relics in the altar became so general that
to-day it would be difficult to find many altars in the
whole of Catholic Christendom that do not conceal
some sacred bones. 28 The Mass-liturgy itself refers to
ii THE ALTAE
the presence of these hidden sanctuaries. Before the
priest begins his celebration he kisses the altar, and
beseeches God's mercy u in the name of the holy men
who rest here-under." 29
After the altar had once received the form and
meaning of a grave-chest, the type underwent no more
important variations. Only two kinds still claim special
attention. The one kind is the great " ciborium " altar,
the other is the small "travelling" or "portable" altar.
The " ciborium " altar, as it is met with in a number
of Italian churches, is not so much a piece of liturgical
furniture as a special building within the great temple. 30
The altar is surrounded by four columns, one at each
corner, which support a flat or vaulted roof. This
canopy again is crowned by a pyramidal superstructure,
the so-called " tegurium." The columns are often covered
with inscriptions and ornamentation, the architraves or
the arches which connect them are richly decorated,
and the outer roof is embellished with small colonnades.
From the inner roof, lamps and golden wreaths hang
down over the altar. In the " ciboria" that are seen in
churches to-day, the space between the columns is free,
but it appears from certain old pictures and from marks
on the columns of some of the " ciboria" preserved, that
the altar space had earlier been closed in by movable
curtains. 31 It was thus a complete little house sur-
rounding the place for the altar sacrament.
It is not difficult to discover some purely liturgical
ideas which may be considered to a certain extent to have
supplied the motive for these peculiar arrangements.
The roof of the " ciborium" serves, as has often been
pointed out, to protect the Holy of holies from defile-
ment, and the miraculous element in the sacramental
transformation is set forth all the more impressively if
28 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
the miracle is performed behind drawn curtains. These
points of view have certainly had their importance, but
it is incredible that they should by themselves have
given rise to so complicated and imposing an edifice.
One is inclined to think, therefore, that older archi-
tectural types must have offered some model which was
imitated in the "ciborium" altar; and such a model is
easily found as soon as we fix our attention on the
fact that the altar is a grave-chest at the same time as
it is a Mass-table.
There are, in fact, some Christian forms of grave
which in their essentials correspond with the " ciboria."
When a grave was erected under the open sky it was
usually given the form of an antique sarcophagus
containing the body of a dead man. Probably these
sarcophagi were placed by preference in the shadow of
trees encircling the holy place; 32 but when no such
natural shade was available, a special roof might be
raised over the grave, i.e. a saddle-shaped or pyramidal
superstructure was erected, supported by four columns
connected with each other by architraves or arches. 33
This form of grave, which was especially common in
North Africa, seems to have been used very often in
heathen times, and the type is familiar to those who
have seen the tombs of the Scaligeri at Verona and of
the Professors at Bologna. If these edifice's erected
under the open sky are compared with the great
" ciboria," it must indeed be admitted that there are
differences in their proportions and embellishment,
but none the less the two forms resemble one another
as two expressions of the same idea. The pointed-
saddle or tent-roof of the " ciborium," which by its
shape is peculiarly fitted to carry off rain, suggests, so
it appears, a place in the open air where it had been
ii THE ALTAE 29
necessary to raise a shelter against rough weather. We
seem to see how the tomb had been removed from the
open air into the church, to form there a little temple
of its own within the larger one.
But there is yet more to see in an old " ciborium." A
grave, which is sheltered by a roof and at which holy
meals are set forth, is something that we may find in
other religions beside the Christian. The primitive
temple, consisting often of nothing but a simple roof
rising over a grave, lives on in the " ciborium " within
the walls of a Christian church. The original ritual con-
nected with ancestor-worship has been developed and
transformed in the course of religious progress; but,
none the less, it has left its architectural forms as an
inheritance to the new religion, which should, according
to its theory, make an end of all worship of the dead.
If the " ciborium" altar recalls by its dimensions a
house rather than a table, the travelling altar, on the
other hand, is much too small to be characterised as an
article of furniture. 34 As the name denotes, its purpose
is to render possible the celebration of Mass for those
who reside at a great distance from churches. It is an
altar made portable and compressed into the smallest
possible shape ; but, however small it is, it lacks none
of the qualities essential to a complete Mass -table.
The surface of the table is represented by a small
and specially consecrated stone slab, which is fitted into
a frame of expensive and richly-decorated metal work.
This slab again forms the lid of a box in which sacred
relics have been enclosed, often selected from among
the bones of the guardian saint who is at rest in
the home -church of the traveller. When the first
missionaries in heathen lands, or the Crusaders far
away in Syria, celebrated their Mass over a travelling
30 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP, n
altar of this kind, their ceremony was as complete as
if it had been performed within a church. They had
brought with them the church, or at any rate the
essential part of the church, in the shape of this little
article, which could be held in a man's hand or fixed
to his saddle ; and in front of these small shrines, just
as in front of the imposing altar - buildings, homage
was done to a grave containing the earthly remains
of saints. Whether small or great, the Catholic Mass-
tables are always, therefore, to the mind if not to the
eye, a kind of case for precious contents ; and the ideas
connected with the abode of the dead remain for all
time bound up with the Church's principal place of
worship.
CHAPTER III
THE RELICS
Et c'est pourquoi je dis que de cliaque contour
Emaneat des reflets, des pelHcules freles,
Feuilles sans epaisseur, decalques si fideles
Qu'ils gardent a jamais 1'apparence des corps
Doat leur yolage ccorce abandonna les bords.
E, De la nature des choses, trans. ANDE& LEFEVRE.
FROM the development of the altar it has become clear
that saint-worship, little by little, mingled with the Mass
ritual, and that the Mass-table itself was finally trans-
formed into a saint's shrine. This result, however, does
not represent the whole of the influence exercised on
the furnishing of the Catholic Church by the worship
of the remains of the dead. The altar, which is itself a
preserver of relics, supports or is surrounded by a
number of other reliquaries, chests, capsules, shrines, or
monstrances, which all serve to increase the sacredness
of the place. To understand the principles of the
disposition and embellishment of these sanctuaries we
must know the ideas held by the faithful as to the
miracle-working power of relics.
The doctrine of relics is connected indissolubly with
that of the miracles of the saints. The earthly remains
of a holy man would not be considered to exercise such
wonderful results if it was not believed that the holy
man himself had possessed a supernatural power. 1 We
31
32 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
must first, therefore, inquire into tlie ideas concerning
the miraculous power of the saints. Afterwards it
remains to show why this power was thought to survive
in the saint's remains, and finally there comes the
task of demonstrating how the belief in their power
of working miracles gave rise to the preservation of
relics in relic- cases, and to the exhibition of relic-cases
in the church.
The miracle legends are in no way peculiar to
Christianity. On the contrary, it can be shown that
the Catholic saints in many cases received their
wonder-working powers as an inheritance from Old
Testament prophets 2 and heathen demi-gods 3 ; and
it is not only in the older religions of civilised peoples
that analogies are found to the exploits of the
great religious heroes. In all parts of the world,
among primitive and barbaric tribes, legends of heroes,
kings, and medicine-men are found corresponding in
essentials with the Christian traditions. Nor is there
any need to suppose that these legends were borrowed
by one nation from another. The conditions of the
correspondence are to be found most easily in the
psychology of primitive and barbaric man, or, more
correctly, in the psychology of that mental life which
lives on continuously, as something primitive or
barbaric, among civilised mankind.
There is even one article in the doctrine of the saints'
power that we can. adopt without being guilty of any
superstitious attitude. We do not write ourselves down
as primitive if we confess our belief that personalities
which are strong and healthy, or good and wise in
a word, physically or morally superior exercise an
immediate influence upon those around them. In
intercourse with them, all except the envious feel
in THE EELICS 33
themselves fresher, brighter, and more alive than usual.
Such results can be observed even In an age that offers
but few opportunities of contact with saint or hero. It
is therefore easy to understand that the great martyrs
and ascetics strengthened by their demeanour the
courage of the faithful, and that among the latter there
might easily arise a subjective illusion as to the power
of the saints to cure diseases or to ward off misfortunes.
The further idea that not only the saints themselves,
but even all objects that awoke memories of them, were
able to exercise an influence favourable to life, could be
explained as a consequence of suggestion.
Though we admit that in some cases the experi-
ence of effects of illusion and suggestion has contributed
to root the belief in the miraculous power of the saint,
we must immediately assert that the legends them-
selves contain no allusions to such mental factors.
Popular superstition, like religious belief in miracles,
is obviously based on purely materialistic ideas. In
pious legends there is no talk of mental conditions, and
as a rule no special faith is presupposed in those who
experience the effect of the miracle. People are per-
suaded that the mere physical contact exercises a
healing, strengthening, and favourable influence. The
magical person, or to use a more orthodox term, the
pious thaumaturge, is considered to be in possession
of some peculiar physical power which is imparted from
him through material effluxes to all those who directly
or indirectly come into contact with his external being.
The pressing of his hands on a head, the touching of
the hem of his garment when he passes by, and even
the shadow cast by his figure, can transmit influences
from him to those who come in his way. Such purely
magical miracles are often reported in the Acts of the
34 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
Apostles (v. 15; viiL 7; xix. 12), although, on the
other hand, both Peter and Paul frequently dwell on
the importance of faith in healing the sick (iii. 4 ; xi.
34; xiv. 9).
Even in the canonical account of Paul's journeys, a
miracle is recorded which for incredibility is second to
none of the grossest legends of sorcery in popular
superstition. At Ephesus, so it runs, when the people
could not bring their sick to the Apostles, they placed
on their beds handkerchiefs or pieces of cloth that had
earlier been in contact with the saint's body. "And
the sick were healed of their diseases and the evil spirits
left them" (xix. 12). It was, it seems, not even
necessary to see the miracle -worker himself, for his
power transmitted itself through space by means of
material instruments, which so the case was inter-
preted had been saturated with healing radiations from
his being.
In the Biblical legends of the healing of the sick by
Peter, Paul, and John, the most important kinds of
saint-miracles are exemplified. The martyrs and ascetics,
indeed, performed even more wonderful things than
the Apostles, but the principles of their miracles were
the same as those at work in the story of Peter's shadow
and Paul's handkerchiefs. From these principles can be
deduced not only the doctrine of the power of the saints
themselves, but also that of the miraculous influence of
the relics, through which saints live and work even after
their death. For it is clear that the relics are considered
potent in the same way as are the small pieces of cloth
which, according to the Acts of the Apostles, had been in
contact with Paul's body. Time and space are alike
unable to destroy the might of the saint's being,
and everything which has constituted a part of him,
in EELICS 35
or has been in contact with him, gives out miraculous
power after the saint himself has left the earth. Such
an argument appears irrational and meaningless to the
modern mind, but it appears to be irrefutable, in a
strictly logical sense, if it is placed in connection with
that world-philosophy which lies at the basis of primitive
superstition.
Ethnological research has long ago succeeded In
bringing all the magical customs of savage and barbaric
peoples under a common explanation. In the doctrine
of " sympathetic magic " has been found the theory which
is unconsciously applied by all "shamans" and sorcerers
both in earlier times and to-day.
As its name denotes, sympathetic magic originates
from the belief In a common suffering. The magician
thinks himself able, by the operations he undertakes
upon one thing, to influence another thing connected
with the first by a magical solidarity. According
to superstitious ideas such a solidarity exists between
all beings, objects, and phenomena which stand towards
one another in a relationship of contact or similarity.
These two relations, contact and similarity which, as
is well known, determine in psychology the two classes
of associations of ideas lie at the root of two kinds
of maoic : one kind in which the sorcerer makes use of
objects that have been in contact with the person or
thing he wishes to influence, and another kind in which
he makes use of images or imitations of living beings,
things or motions.
Ethnological and folklorist investigators have, as a
rule, regarded the magics of contact and similarity as
two forms which in their essentials have nothing In
common. But just as psychologists attempt to reduce
36 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
all associative processes to one common type of associa-
tion, so also we ought to be able to show one common
and fundamental idea from which the various magical
customs may be deduced. Such a first principle is
easily found in primitive man's materialistic conception
of the bond of contact and similarity.
That all things which have once formed parts of a
given whole are throughout the future connected both
with one another and with the great whole, and that
consequently by affecting one of the parts not only the
other parts but also the whole itself can be influenced,
this belief could not have developed unless it had been
thought that the essence of a thing stood in a purely
physical sense in permanent connection even with all
the parts that have been separated from the whole in
question. A. primitive magician has naturally not
formulated his reasoning in any clear ideas. He could
not himself say why he thinks that he hurts an enemy
by, for example, burning or piercing a part of his
clothing. But if he were able to express his dim
conceptions in philosophic language, he would probably
say that the clothes worn by his enemy are penetrated
through and through by bodily radiations from the
hated man's being. He would assert that these
radiations form a continuous chain of material con-
nection between the instrument of magic and its
victim, and that by affecting the chain at one of its
ends he can influence its beginning. In a word, he
would develop a materialistic theory of effluxes which
eternally connect the whole and all its parts with each
other.
According to primitive ideas, a similar chain of
effluxes links images with their originals, for the
picture is to the undeveloped mind nothing but a
HI THE EELICS 37
radiation, a decortication of the thing. The first pictures
seen by savages, the shadows on the ground and the
reflection in the water, lead quite spontaneously to such
an interpretation; and the shadow and the reflection have
become the types to which all other representations are
referred. Every object, which in virtue of its similarity
awakes the idea of another object, is explained as a sort
of decortication of this object. If a man gets possession
of a counterfeit of a thing, he thinks that he has at
the same time stolen a part of the essence of the thing
in question. The fear that exists among all uncivilised
people of allowing a portrait of themselves to be taken
is thus nothing but a fear of losing through the portrait
a part of their being. Ethnological literature offers a
mass of instances which cannot be explained in any
other way. 4
It may perhaps be objected that reality ought often
to have given the lie to so naive an idea. Undeveloped
man, however, does not allow his ideas to be corrected
by reality. His way of looking at things has given him
an explanation of phenomena, which is sufficiently com-
plete and logical for Ms purpose. One is the less
inclined to be astonished at his contentment, when one
considers that the materialistic doctrine of effluxes has
even served as the basis of consistent and logical
systems. The Epicurean world-philosophy was based
on an idea that not only shadows and reflections in a
mirror, but also dream pictures and ideas, consisted
of certain thin membranes, which were continually
thrown off from the surface of things and spread
themselves in every direction through space. In the
fourth book of his great poem, De rerum nature*,,
Lucretius has cleverly applied this doctrine of de-
cortications to the phenomena of optics, acoustics,
38 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
and psychology. In doing so he has merely systema-
tised the dim ideas about the corporeality of sight- and
sound-pictures, which are found among all savage tribes
and which still live on sporadically among the civilised
nations. It is enough in this connection to refer to the
popular fear of losing something by having one's photo-
graph taken, to the Indian traditions as to the sacred
places at which Buddha's shadow has fixed itself
eternally on a mountain wall, 5 and to the popular Celtic
belief that the waters in Brittany, the old land of
romance, still throw back the reflection of the fairy
Viviane. 6
Lucretius has not evolved any magical conclusions
from his theory, and he makes no mention whatever
of any solidarity between things and the emanations
that are detached from them; but from his clear and
logical exposition we can get to understand that when
once the idea of magical solidarity had been embraced,
similarity must appear as no less natural a means
of sorcery than contact. Through images a man
could, in the most literal meaning of the word, put
himself in contact with an object. From effluxes,
emanations or peelings -off, there was constructed an
interminable system of material links through which
all wholes were bound up with their parts and all
originals with their representations. By the application
of one and the same fundamental idea the primitive
magician was able by the help, it is true, of two
different methods to exercise his power over all things
of which he had procured for himself a part or a picture.
His belief appears to us devoid of any reasonable basis ;
but we ourselves own to ideas of this kind when, under
the influence of strong feeling, we sink back into the
primitive soul-life, i.e. when admiration or love have
in EELIGS 39
made us fetish- or picture-worshippers. We then ex-
perience for a few moments before a souvenir, a relic,
or a portrait the same illusion of possession which was
confused by uncivilised man with an actual power over
a beloved or hated being only we do not allow our-
selves to be led into supposing any objective corre-
spondence to our subjective sensation ; and we do not
here comes in the decisive difference embody the
psychological association between the ideas in any
belief of a material union between the things.
It is not necessary here to give a more detailed account
of the theory of sympathetic magic. If some points in
this folk-philosophy have been insufficiently explained,
the Catholic worship will offer many opportunities for
a completer exposition. For the popular superstitions
about the power of relics, which were taken up and were
theoretically justified by the fathers of the Church, are
at bottom as materialistic as primitive magic. All the
forms adopted by relic-worship have their exact corre-
spondence in the system of magic.
To begin with the simplest kind of magic by contact,
it is easy to understand why it was considered that
the possession of a saint's body or of some of his bones
carried with it advantages similar to those which would
have been gained by placing oneself under the protection
of a living saint : in the same way as the Christian
martyr-worshippers, the ancient Greeks collected relics
of their demi-gods, and transferred them to "heroon"
chapels. 7 They thus applied the 'same principle as the
magician who seeks to make an end of his enemy by
destroying some locks of his hair, some clippings of
his nails, or a lost tooth. It is true that black magic
has hate for its motive power, while the white magic
has admiration or love ; but none the less religion and
40 THE SACEID SHKINE CHAP.
magic build in this respect on the basis of a common
thought It has long been generally recognised tihat
the heathen gods were thought to be bound to the
places where their images were guarded. 8 Eelics ful-
filled the same purpose in the case of the saints, probably
with still greater effectiveness. 9 It is perfectly clear
from the hagiographic legends that with the bones of a
saint one took the saint himself into one's service. One
was certain of his assistance, because the holy man could
not be other than present, wherever his relics were
guarded. 10
By transferring some relics to the church, the faith-
ful had made the great dead a member of their own
community. He lived with them, the church became
his house, 11 and the interests of the nation became his. 12
He appropriated the language of his new country, 13 and
he assisted its struggles with patriotic zeal. When the
citizens were successful in their wars, it was the saint
who was given the credit for the victory. 14 Merits of this
kind could certainly not often be ascribed to the Western
saints, among whom the Roman martyrs in particular
showed themselves sadly incapable of shielding their
city ; but in the Bast, where hostile attacks were still
frequently repulsed, the belief in the saint's military
prowess grew with every new victory. A holy relic was
considered as the strongest fortification of a place.
Saint Jacob of Nisibea, for example, who during his life
had by his pious prayers warded off the onslaught of
the Persians, afforded after his death a better protection
to his city than its lofty walls and wide river. His body
became, to quote Ephraem Syrus's ingenious conceit, a
rampart without the town although it was hidden within
it ; it was a living spring inside the town which guarded
Nisibea when the river at its boundary had failed it. 15
in THE EELICS 41
A& the relics had so much practical importance, it
was not of course always for purely religious reasons
that people strove to acquire them. Piety was con-
nected with utilitarianism, and the collecting of relics
took forms hardly consistent with reverence for the
saint. Voyages of discovery and invasions were under-
taken in order to get possession of precious remains.
People made war on a knuckle or a finger- bone, as
war is now made on provinces and countries. The
body of the saintly ascetic Jacob became a subject
of strife even before he had died. 16 It was not
considered sinful for a man in his pious zeal to rob
or plunder neighbouring towns in order to take
some luck -bringing object home to his own village,
and trade was carried on in what had once been pious
servants of God as in shop wares. If to Christian
ideas there is anything offensive in this, consolation
should be afforded by the fact that the traffic was
usually conducted by unbelieving Jews.
In these varieties of saint-worship we have to do
with a usury levied upon a popular superstition, which
was often condemned by the Church authorities. The
more enlightened among the old Fathers of the Church
discouraged, as far as lay in their power, both the trade
in relics and the forgery of them, the latter having
developed into a regular industry 17 as early as the time
of Augustine ; but the exchange or giving away of
particular martyrs' bones was not disallowed. Qn the
contrary, it was considered that the Church's interest
gained by this spread of relics. The cult grew in unity
if one and the same saint was worshipped at several
different places. 18 In harmony with that mystical con-
ception of ubiquity which prevails in the doctrine of
the sacrament, it was not thought in any way unnatural
42 THE SACEED SHBDTE CHAP.
that the saint should be present at the same time in
all the places where his relics were preserved. The
Eastern Church showed itself particularly willing to
distribute fragments of bone from all the saints whom
people in the West were anxious to worship.
The Eoman See followed a policy that was not quite
so generous. Evidently it was recognised as most profit-
able to possess the holy objects of worship in their
entirety. When, as was often the case, a request for
relics was received, it was pleaded that the rest of the
dead martyrs would be disturbed if their bones were
cut into pieces. 19 None the less the pious worshippers
were gratified with the gift of some objects that had
absorbed, and been saturated with, the radiations of
the relics. Little pieces of cloth were placed for a time
in the graves of Peter or Paul, and thence sent forth
round the world as relics of the Apostles. 20 These
sanctuaries of the second order, if we may so call them,
were considered to be effective in the same way if not
in so high a degree as the sacred bones themselves. 21
Thus the Church, led on perhaps by the apostolic
narrative of Paul's handkerchiefs, had recourse to that
form of sympathetic magic, according to which, in the
absence of parts of the victim's body, such as locks of
hair or nails, the result is attained by means of pieces
of clothing. A method was used which corresponded
in its principle with the procedure of primitive sorcerers.
But the Catholic manufacture of relics is more interest-
ing than any one of the magical customs of primitive
men. It demonstrates with unsurpassable clearness how
materialistic was the conception of the effects of relics.
It was, as already mentioned, through a bodily radiation
that the magic vehicle assumed a part of its subject's
being. This radiation could not be seen, for it was an
in THE EELICS 43
invisibile; but It was not an imponderable. There-
fore, when so Important a matter as the procuring of
holy relics was in question, people wished to be quite
sure that the magical transference had really taken
place. The small pieces of cloth were weighed before
and after their rest on the sacred coffins ; and when
they were lifted up it was found that they had increased
in weight a thing, Indeed, that is not entirely incredible,
if we take into consideration the damp air down In the
sepulchral chambers. According to the believer's Inter-
pretation the increase in weight corresponded to the
miracle-working power added to the piece of stuff by
the contact. 22
It is natural that other objects besides cloth should
serve as vehicles for the effluxes of relics. The oil in the
lamps which burned at the martyrs' graves was considered
capable of working miracles in the same way as the
holy bodies ; and if an ascetic read some prayers over
a jar of oil, his power of working miracles was conveyed
to the contents of the jar, which immediately increased
in amount and flowed over the brim a statement the
correctness of which may be doubted, however positively
it is asserted by Sulpicius Severus and Gregory of
Tours. 23 The earth around a holy grave was saturated
by the radiations of the dead man, and thus became
in its turn a means of healing. The water in which a
relic was washed was preserved by the faithful and
taken home to be used as medicine. 24 Moreover, the
magical emanations never ceased to stream out from
the holy object. Just as the bones of the martyrs and
ascetics were considered to be imperishable, so they were
considered to possess a never-ending supply of miraculous
power.
The holiest relics, however, possessed still more
44 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
wonderful qualities. Not only could they radiate their
being in an unceasing succession of effluxes without a
weakening of their force ; they could even share their
actual matter without undergoing the least shrinkage.
The sand on the spot from which the Saviour ascended
into Heaven has not come to an end in spite of
the fact that, for so many centuries, believers have
taken home grains of it as a relic. 25 The holy cross
allowed pilgrims to break pieces from its surface, and
none the less remained as large and as complete as
before. 26 According to popular belief, there were even
saints who actually doubled themselves, in order that
their relics should serve as many worshippers as possible.
St Baldred in Scotland, for example, had been the cause
of strife between three communities, all of which desired
to possess his body ; but when one day they were about
to take up the unfinished strife anew, the single body
had been changed into three, all puzzlingly like one
another. The holy man had taken care that no one
of the rivals should be favoured at the expense of the
others. ^
Eeasons could thus be quoted even for the fact
that several specimens of similar relics of one and the
same saint were worshipped at different places. It
is a proof, therefore, of a defective knowledge of the
consistency of Catholic doctrines to ridicule, as Pro-
testants often do, the worship, for example, of the many
holy nails, which would suffice for far more than one cross,
or of the numerous thorns, which could not possibly find
a place in a single crown of thorns. 28 The believers are
not affected by this criticism ; for them it is an undoubted
fact that all the many relics are equally authentic.
As regards the last-mentioned objects, we need not
even appeal to such extraordinary and fabulous explana-
m THE EELICS 45
tions as the miracle of St. Baldred's body. It is true
that the sacred nails are said to have increased in number
without any exterior prompting ; but the majority of
the thirty-six different examples 29 that are known to
exist have probably, like the many thorns and the
innumerable duplicates of the saints' clothing, been quite
openly manufactured according to the correct method
of procuring new relics. Some faithful copies of the
authentic objects were made, and these copies were then
set in contact with the original. 30 The effluxes communi-
cated themselves through the contact, and the new relics
were saturated with the power of the sacred object in
the same way as the pieces of cloth which have already
been mentioned ; but they further possessed, in addition
to the wonder-working qualities transmitted to them
by contact, a miraculous power springing from their
similarity to the original relic. Thus both the magic
principles so often combined in the making of primitive
religious pictures and ancestor -images, combined to
make the secondary relics holy and wonder-working. 31
It is not, as may perhaps be objected, too far-fetched
to explain the Catholic doctrine of relics with the help
of the similarity -magic of uncivilised peoples. The
belief in the material connection between images and
their originals was by no means uncommon in the first
centuries of Christianity. The story of Peter, who
healed sick people by his shadow, is evidence of a
conception as materialistic as any of the primitive
superstitions. In the whole of ethnological literature
no more illuminating example of the idea that repre-
sentations are effluxes from originals can be met with
than the Christian legend of Veronica's napkin. This
marvellous picture, which had itself been produced by
a radiation from the Saviour's countenance, possessed
46 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
tlie miraculous power of being able, in its turn, to
detach new pictures to the surface of objects with
which it was placed in contact. According to one of
the many variants of this famous legend, Ananias,
who had been sent to Jerusalem to fetch the picture
of the Saviour for the sick Persian king, during his
return journey concealed his treasure one evening
between some bricks ; and when he took it up next
morning, it turned out that the stones had received a
clear impression of the sacred countenance. Thus the
copy was able, by an automatic process, to copy itself ;
and, what is more remarkable, it was not through any
mental impression, but through this purely physical
contact that the pictures exercised their healing in-
fluences. In the story of King Agbar's deliverance from
his leprosy, there is no mention of his having looked at
the napkin. He seized the holy cloth, the tale runs,
and pressed it against his face and his limbs, and in the
same hour his discharge began to grow less and his
strength returned. 32
This materialistic picture -medicine has even been
utilised by believing Catholics during far later periods.
Thus the pious mystic Suso relates how he one day
succeeded in curing a blind man by first rubbing his
hands upon a wall, on which were painted the figures
of some holy Apostles, and then touching the eyes of
the sick man. 33 Although these pictures had not, like
the impression on Veronica's napkin, and on the great
" Sudaria " in Turin and Besancon, been procured by a
material detachment from the models themselves, yet
they could still transmit healing powers in a corporeal
way. The miraculous power of the pictures was of the
same nature as that of the relics, and pictures were
therefore, at any rate in the Eastern Church,' entirely
in RELICS 47
on a par with the material remains of men and women. 34
As a consequence the copied relics were thought to
possess, by reason of their likeness to the original, a
part of the latter's miraculous force ; and as a result
of the same reasoning, people thought that they could
protect their cities, their houses, and themselves no
less efficiently by holy pictures than by holy bones.
This conception has of course been of inestimable im-
portance to the development of pictorial art.
The superstitious ideas which have been commented
upon in this chapter have in themselves nothing to do
with the artistic crafts of Catholicism ; but they give
us information about the contents of the reliquaries,
and it is impossible to treat of a covering without first
paying attention to the substance it conceals. In the
next chapter it will appear that it is only by incessantly
referring to magic by contact and magic by similarity
that we can explain the principles of the shaping, the
embellishment, and the arrangement of the relic-shrine.
CHAPTEE IV
THE RELIQUARY
Saints are like roses when they flush rarest.
Saints are like lilies when they bloom fairest,
Saints are like violets sweetest of their kind.
CHRISTINA KOSSETTI, All Saints.
IT has been necessary to emphasise specially all the
materialistic elements in the Catholic doctrine of relics.
If we do not make ourselves acquainted with the purely
corporeal manner in which the holy things are thought
to communicate their help and healing, we cannot rightly
understand the relation of the believer to the remains
of the saints ; nor can we understand why the relics
were enclosed in reliquaries, set up in the churches,
and exhibited to the faithful. For had the power of
the relic been independent of all physical mediation,
the precious bones would have been able to exercise
their blessed influences in all circumstances. They
would have protected their cities even though they lay
hidden in an unknown grave, and people would have
relied confidently on their help, had they only known
that they were somewhere in their neighbourhood.
This, however, was so little the case that, on the con-
trary, hidden relics were considered as a treasure non-
existent for the community. 1 It was only after the
sacred bones had been brought up into the light of day
48
CHAP. IY THE EELIQTJART 49
that they began to perform their miracles. A region
was exposed to misfortunes and diseases, however
many relics it might contain within its boundaries ;
but it received powerful protection from the moment
when the relics were discovered and set up for the
worship of the faithful.
It would be natural to suppose that the relics were
exhibited in order that the people might show them
reverence. The saint could not, one is apt to imagine,
give any attention to the needs of those who sought
his help before the latter had put forward their desires
in homage and prayer. Nevertheless, the invoking of
the sacred remains does not play any decisive r61e in
the old miracle stories. The legends relate, on the one
hand, that the power of the relics does not depend
upon such mental factors as belief or unbelief ; and, on
the other hand, that the miracle presupposes a sensuous
communication between the relics and those who ex-
perience the effects of the miracle. 2 When any evil
influence was averted, this was due, it is said, to the
fact that the demons were frightened at seeing the
remains of the holy men who during their lifetimes
had withstood their attacks so victoriously. 3 "We
carry the relic-case forward against the demons," it
is said by Honorius Augustodunensis, " as the Children
of Israel bore the Ark of the Covenant against
the Philistines." 4 When again it was a question of
strengthening weakness or healing an illness that was
not due to demoniacal possession, the cure was trans-
mitted by as simple a method. The patients were well
aware of the fact that the relics could not exercise their
influence telepathically. They were not content with
praying to the holy bones at a distance, but they wanted
to see them, and touch them or rub themselves against
50 THE SACKED SHEDTE CHAP
them, in order to absorb in their being the healing
effluxes. Just as people strove to touch martyrs while
they lived/ so they contended to get as near as possible
to their remains.
The early Christian martyr-shrines were in many
cases accessible for such contact. If they were placed
above ground people could embrace them with, their
arms and touch them with eyes, ears, and mouth. 6 If,
again, they rested underground, a direct communication
between the altar and the dead was often procured by
the " aditus ad sanctos " already mentioned ; and a still
closer contact was possible in churches where the grave
as a "confessio" lay directly under the altar-table
itself. Through the door or window of the " confessio "
building one could look in upon the relics and place
one's body close to them; nay, one could even in
some cases, as in the old Church of St. Peter at Eome,
thrust one's entire head into the holy chamber. 7 There
were also some altars of the later chest-type, with
small openings in their walls through which the saint's
bones peeped out ; 8 but these forms became more and
more rare. The orthodox altar came to be a closed
room which contained relics indeed, but also concealed
them in a small inaccessible grave.
When they rested under the communion-table the
bones of martyrs and confessors fulfilled their function
of effecting a union between the church and its pro-
tector " its name-saint," as the term stands which was
woven stronger and stronger at each new celebration of
the holy meal 9 The saint became an invisible guest at
the festivals of the community, and he was, through his
participation in them, more and more closely bound to
the community's interests. But if this sufficed for the
general needs of the cult, it must often have been
IT THE BELIQUAEY 51
unsatisfactory to individual believers that they could
no longer see or touch the sacred remains. People were
not content with the knowledge that the altar preserved
relics, or that, as was often the case, relics were fitted
into the vaulting stones or in the roof of the church
tower. 10 They claimed to worship their saints in some
special sanctuary which was not, like the altar -table,
used for any other ritual purposes. They claimed that
the relics should be preserved in such a way that
the sacred bones themselves or their covering should
be accessible not only to the thoughts of the faith-
ful, but also to their eyes, and if possible to their
touch.
This claim could easily be fulfilled when the number
of holy objects had Increased through the discovery
and manufacture of relics. Then, in addition to the
great saint-grave, Le. the altar, churches could be
provided with other movable saint -shrines for the
exclusive purpose of relic -worship. Thus arose the
various receptacles which, with their beauty of form
and the richness of their colours, contribute so power-
fully to the outer pomp of Catholic ritual.
From the purely aesthetic point of view the reli-
quary is more Interesting than any of the objects
which together constitute the liturgical apparatus.
The history of the embellishment of this holy shrine
embraces a considerable part of the development of
decorative art. It touches upon all the most important
kinds of the arts and crafts which were carried on
during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance the
carving of ivory, the chasing of gold and silver, the
works in vermilion, i.e. gilded silver, and the setting of
rubies, topazes, and emeralds, and, above aJl, of some
kinds of stones no longer used in secular art, such as
52 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
the chrysoprase and that transparent crystal, the beryl*
It affords examples of many ingenious ways of utilising
shells and mother-of-pearl, and even ostrich eggs, for
relic- cases; and, above all, it contains a fascinating
chapter on the artistic enamels, in which richly-coloured
vitreous glaze has been poured into ornaments and
figures, whose contours are formed by the darkly-rising
ridges of the copper base. The gorgeous beauty of the
embellishment of reliquaries is, indeed, often barbarically
ostentatious, but in many cases it can compel unqualified
admiration.
There can be no question here of giving an exact
account of all the individual shrines which invite de-
scription by the splendour and grace of their form, or
by the effect of their combination of colours. Of the
number of varieties by which the reliquary is repre-
sented in the collections of churches and museums,
only the most important will be discussed. In doing
so, it is most natural to begin by distinguishing a con-
siderable group of receptacles which had originally been
manufactured for secular purposes. 11
When the collecting of holy bones began, there did
not of course exist any developed art of manufacturing
reliquaries. People were often content to fit the bones
or their fragments into simple boxes of lead, bone, or
wood, on the covers of which they engraved a short
description of the contents ; but frequently they chose
as receptacles for the holy objects some box or case
which had formerly been used for quite another purpose.
Thus it might happen that aftsr Christianity had be-
come a fashionable religion, the wealthy ladies of Eome
emptied out the contents of their trinket-boxes and hid
the blackened bones of some pious ascetic under the
same cover that had formerly guarded their pearls and
iv THE RELIQUABY 53
brilliants ; and during much later periods this custom
of using heathen works of art as coverings for Christian
contents was retained. Crusaders and pilgrims brought
with them relics lying in costly cases and receptacles
which they had procured in the East, and the Church
took care of the shell as well as of the substance. The
same liberality, was shown with regard to the profane
art of the European nations. As the Church on the
whole rejected nothing whether old folk-legends or
heathen customs or motives of artistic decoration so,
too, it gave house-room to gems, receptacles, and
implements which had either lost their use or no
longer possessed any rightful owner. 12 Some small
alteration was made in the object ; an open goblet was
closed by a lid, or a hole was bored in a breast-plate ; a
fragment of bone was introduced or fitted into the
opening, and the worldly object was thus transformed
into a holy shrine. 13 What is important as regards the
history of art is that through a small alteration of this
kind the object was preserved from destruction. During
the time when no historic sense was directing peoples'
activities, and when the comparative study of art was
an unknown idea, the sacristies and altar-places fulfilled
the task that has now been taken over by art-museums ;
and they fulfilled it so well that in many cases they
have preserved for us valuable instances of e.g. oriental
technique which but for them had been lost to us. All
this exotic and barbaric production, which is still to be
found in the collections of relics in churches, is, of
course, of indisputable aesthetic interest ; but it teaches
us nothing of the art which is Catholic in its origin and
its aim.
The reliquaries proper can easily be distinguished
from receptacles which were subsequently adapted to
54 THE SACKED SHEIHE CHAP.
their holy purpose. They are by no means less
beautiful than the secular cases ; on the contrary, only
the purest materials were considered good enough to
enclose the bones of martyrs and confessors, for the
bones in themselves were "of more worth than precious
stones, and finer than purified gold," 14 and, as the
legends relate, revealed their sanctity by a sweet odour.
Superstitious worship and pious, devout reverence
thus led the craftsmen to put forth in the making of
reliquaries all the skill of which they were capable;
but these holy shrines further possessed in their
shape certain features clearly illustrating their religious
purpose.
The form that lay nearest to hand, when a chamber
had to be prepared for the body of a holy martyr or
ascetic, was naturally that of a box. It is probable that
many of the oldest relic-shrines were nothing but simple
coffins of stone or wood. As soon, however, as these
sanctuaries began to be exhibited in churches, the
necessity of decorating their surfaces must have been
felt. After the model of antique and early Christian
sarcophagi, people began to divide the walls into com-
partments separated from one another by pilasters
and half-columns, and adorned with pictures from the
life of the saint within. The lid received, likewise
on the model of sarcophagi, the form of a saddle-roof,
and the resemblance to a house, when once people's
eyes had been directed to it, was more and more
emphasised by the ornamentation. When the " capsa "
such is the name for this saint's shrine had reached
its full development, it often presented the appearance
of a small church : a simple or even a many- aisled
Basilica, with socle, arcades, and projecting saddle-roof,
or a Gothic cathedral with flying buttresses, pinnacles,
iv THE RELIQUAEY 55
and ridge-turrets. Just as the Church had often been
looked upon as a grave-shrine for the saint, so too the
saint's shrine was looked upon and represented ,as a
church. 15
This type of reliquary, which one can imagine as
developed out of a sarcophagus, was, however, used in a
smaller size for relics which could not have filled a proper
chest. Thus there are many small golden churches
which were wrought and decorated solely in order to
enclose some precious and sacred bone-fragment. But
it is natural that, in the business of preserving small
relics, people were not bound to that type of case which
had been used for the intact bodies of martyrs. A
little piece of bone could, for example, be placed in a
cylindrical or polygonal box, whose walls and lid were
adorned with engraved or sculptured ornamentation.
This lid, too, could after some remodelling assume the
form of a roof ; a conical tent-roof or a cupola. Thus the
box appeared like a tower, or in its most finished stage,
as a central temple. The sacred bone rested in a
treasury which recalled the oriental tombs and sepulchral
churches. 16 We see how the connection of ideas between
the great and the small bone-houses expresses itself
step by step in the outer shape of the reliquaries.
The shrines in the form of towers or churches, so
important in Catholic symbolism, do not, however, give
any idea of the kind of bones which are preserved in them.
In this respect the so-called "topical reliquaries" are
much more interesting to the spectator. In them the
covering corresponds faithfully to the contents. A
finger of silver or gold encloses a finger-bone, a half-
moon-formed piece of gold contains the fragment of a
rib, and a foot holds parts of the lower extremities.
The fibulae which are often to be found among relies
56 THE SACKED SHEIETE CHAP.
are enclosed in an arm, or more properly in a sleeve, of
metal, from which protrudes a hand with the fingers
extended in a gesture of blessing. In many cases, in
order to make possible a complete identification of the
precious remains, there has been placed between the
fingers the characteristic attribute of the saint in
question. The skull-bone was fitted naturally into a
head of wood, stone, or metal, and thus arose " hermae "
or busts concealing in their interior some fragmentary
relic. When once people had advanced so far along the
road from shrine to image, it was an easy step to form
statues which reproduced the saint's entire shape and
housed some of his bones. 17 Contact had, to use the
terminology of magic, allied itself with similarity.
When looking, for example, at the curious busts in the
Church of St. Ursula at Cologne, each of which has under
its crown a fragment of skull, we are reminded of the
great ancestor statues in New Guinea, which were made
to support or enclose the skull-bones of the dead. 18 Or,
if we prefer to seek our comparisons nearer at hand,
we can think of the Etruscan urns in the form of busts,
which at the same time preserved a man's features and
his earthly remains.
These resemblances, however, striking as they are,
should not lead us to a complete identification. It is
difficult in each separate ease to decide whether it was a
conscious magical intention or a purely aesthetic impulse
that lay at the root of the custom of making relic-
holders in the shape of busts and statues. During the
later Middle Ages, and even more during the Renaissance,
the enclosing of sacred bones was indeed considered as
a purely artistic business, which people sought above all
to fulfil in the most beautiful way possible. Reli-
quaries were collected as curios by many connoisseurs
iv THE EELIQUAKT 57
who had no belief at all In the miraculous power of the
holy bones, and probably they were often made by
sculptors and goldsmiths who themselves did not retain
the primitive world-view. But even if one does not like
to see in the anthropomorphic reliquaries anything but
the result of the free play of artistic fancy, yet it must
be remembered that in this, as in so many cases, the
aesthetic effect corresponds to what at earlier stages of
development was looked upon as a magical efficacy. And
there is no doubt that to the pious saint-worshippers
both the worth of the relies and their miraculous
qualities were increased, when they were able from the
very shape of the outer cover to receive an impression
of the presence of the saint.
The topical saint-shrines, which in our presentation
of the subject were the connecting link in the transition
to the preserving of relics in busts and statues, possess
this advantage, that it is possible to see what bones are
preserved in them ; but the sacred contents themselves
can not be seen. The covering is not, indeed, able to
exclude the miraculous power, and it has been satur-
ated with such a number of effluxes that it could per-
form miracles on its own account ; 19 but the fact that
the relic is completely hidden from their eyes is none
the less unsatisfactory to the faithful. Superstition and
pious reverence claim to behold their object. In order
to fulfil this claim, a little window, covered with trans-
parent crystal, has frequently been let into the saint's
shrine; 20 and during the later Middle Ages a further
step was taken by manufacturing entire reliquaries out
of glass. The small cylindrical shrine if we may use
this expression was supported and surrounded by an
edifice wrought in metal, reproducing in miniature
motives from the church architecture of the period.
58 THE SACBED SHBIltfE CHAP.
This rich framework is, however, so arranged that it does
not conceal the sacred bone, the whole length of which
shines out through the glass. A saint-shrine of this
kind is not a " reHc-hider " a " relikgomma," to use the
old Swedish expression but on the contrary a "relic-
shower." Therefore it bears in ecclesiastical terminology
the same name, " monstrance/' as was borne by the
objects which, coming into use at a later time, play so
important a part in the cult of the sacred Host. 21
The same principles that determined the formation
of the reliquaries are responsible also for the ways in
which these are kept and exhibited. Whether the holy
bone itself is hidden or visible, the believer must at
any rate be able to see its shrine. Often indeed, from
a regard for their value, the wonder-working objects
were locked up in chests and cabinets in the sacristies ;
but even in these cases care was taken that not only
the priests, but also the community, should occasionally
enjoy the privilege of viewing the relics. On the
saints' birthdays their death-days' according to secular
terminology when their remains were considered to
have greater healing properties than at any other
time, 22 the sacred bones had to exercise their powers
over all the sick and unhappy ones who streamed to
the church to be cured of their sufferings. Thus in
la Sainte Chapelle in Paris a building which, large as
it is, can only be considered as a monster-reliquary
there has been left for this purpose in the stained glass
windows one uncoloured pane, through which the relics
were shown to the crowd outside. 23 On the day of Mary's
Assumption, the sacred girdle at Prato was exhibited
from a pulpit which was erected specially for that purpose
outside the church, and which was built by Michelozzo
and adorned with reliefs by Donatello. And in the
IT THE EELIQUARY 59
Breton village of St. Jean du Doigt, on every midsummer
day people can take part In a great " pardon," when
John the Baptist's finger Is immersed In the great
churchyard fountain, in order that the sick may be
able to rub their bodies with the water thus saturated
with the saint's effluxes. Other relics go to meet
those who seek their help, when they are carried In
procession on festival days through the streets of
the towns. The great chests are borne on litters, and
the "monstrances" are held in the hands of Church
officials. Thus the bones of the dead are able to
spread their blessings over wide circles and to radiate
health over all those who cross their path.
It is clear, however, that people could not content
themselves with these exhibitions of relics on feast days.
A possibility of partaking of a saint's help must be
provided for the daily church-goers. For this purpose
it was necessary to expose some relics in a visible place
within the church itself. Now of all such places there
Is none so conspicuous as the altar, which, whether in the
nave or in one of the small side-chapels, is placed at that
point to which the gaze of the worshipper is irresistibly
drawn. The surface of the altar, however, cannot
afford room for any bulky objects over and above those
necessary for the celebration of the sacrament. The
relic-shrine must, therefore, unless it is quite small, be
placed as near the altar as possible without thereby
encroaching on its space. 24 The attempt to unite these
two conflicting claims has given rise to some peculiar
arrangements that have been of immense importance
in the development of art-forms.
"When it was desired to give a dominating position
to the great saint-chest, which naturally could not be
laid on the altar itself, there was only one expedient
60 THE SACBED SHEIFE CHAP.
available. It was placed behind the altar on a sub-
structure high enough to make the sanctuary visible
all over the church. By an arrangement of this
kind the faithful were enabled to move freely round
the relics and even to place themselves under them,
so that they could receive their effluxes from every
direction. 25 It has even been asserted that the suppli-
ants utilised the space between the bottom of the shrine
and the floor of the church for carrying out the old
magical idea, according to which sickness is believed to
be healed by the sufferer creeping through a narrow
opening, e.g. under stones or between the branches of
trees. 26 For the purposes of saint-worship itself this dis-
position was as advantageous as could be desired, but
it was also very effective architecturally and decora-
tively. The richly-ornamented chest which occasionally,
like the old sarcophagi, was crowned by a little roof of its
own, rises with this, its " ciboriurn," high over the Mass-
table, and from its position dominates the whole field
of vision in the church. It is the second great grave
of the Catholic cult ; and as regards the eye, if not the
mind, it often asserts itself at the cost of the altar-chest.
By the history of its development this roofed and
lofty-rising saint-shrine, as seen in some old French
churches, further reminds us of the influence acquired
by the worship of the dead in Catholic ritual.
The decorative whole, formed by the table of the
high altar and the gable of the great saint-shrine
facing the nave, is from the aesthetic point of view the
most interesting part of the fittings of the old churches ;
but it is also worthy of attention from the point of view of
the history of art. Attempts have been made to show
that it was this combination of ritual objects which
served as the model for the later groups of pictures
iv THE EELIQUAEY 61
behind the altar. When the saint-shrine has received
the form of a many- aisled church, its front aspect
does indeed present the same disposition that we
find in trlptychs and polyptychs a large central
compartment culminating in a pointed or rounded
arch, and flanked by smaller wings also crowned with
arches. The pictures of saints which are usually met
with on the side-panels of an altar-piece correspond to
the paintings on the fagade of the miniature church,
i.e. of the saint-shrine. The richly-ornamented coping
which, especially in German altar-pieces, often frames the
pictures at the top, can be explained as a reminiscence
of the roof over the saint-shrine, which earlier would
have had its place behind the altar. Finally the
"predella" the rectangular compartment under large
pictures, which is often decorated with scenes from
the legends of saints and martyrs may, so it is argued,
have developed from an altar-decoration the purpose
of which had been to conceal the stands supporting
the relic-case. In Viollet le Due's reconstruction of the
old altar in St. Denis, the fagade of the relic-case, the
Mass - table, and the square slab which masks the
columns under the case, combine to form a totality
which, as to its construction, corresponds exactly with
a triptych on an altar; but naturally we have no
right to base any theory upon a reconstruction which,
even if it were correct, would only throw light on a
single instance. 27
The attempt to explain the old altar-pieces as
imitations of the pictured fagade of the saint-shrine
must, therefore, be considered as an hypothesis which
is more ingenious than convincing. Viollet le Due's
disciples were over-confident when they thought that
they could show a definite model for the old picture
62 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
groups behind tlie altar; but perhaps they were not
quite wrong in asserting a connection between the
altar-pieces and some of the older reliquaries, even
though these had not invariably the shape of chests
or churches. If we examine the other hypotheses
advanced concerning the origin of altar -decorations,
we find that the pictures have always been looked
upon as substitutes for the relics. According to some
authors, the model for the altar-picture is to be found
in a kind of wooden or bone plate, on which the saint-
worshippers in the Greek Church used to fasten pieces
of the holy Cross, miracle-working fragments of bone,
or memorial stones from Palestine. 28 These plates were
often joined by hinges, and could be closed like the
covers of a book. Such "diptychs" or "triptychs"
were especially collected by Crusaders, and were kept
as a sort of souvenir-album which took up little room
and could easily be carried when travelling. When
a man returned home, it was only natural for him to
place his sacred book on the altar with its relic-decked
inside opened. The decoration thus received by the
Mass-table is distinguishable from the great wing-altars
or altar-cabinets only by its dimensions, and not by its
construction. The relic-album gradually received still
richer embellishment. The sides were crowned with
round or pointed arches, and adorned with paintings
or reliefs. Thus the great picture-compartments on a
reredos or an altar-picture were foreshadowed in minia-
ture by these open books. It was only the "predella"
that was lacking.
Even for this element in the totality it has been
possible to find another archetype than the screen for
the supports of the relic-case, which Viollet le Due
adduced in his explanation. The " predella/' it is said,
iv THE EELIQFABY 63
has its earliest correspondence in the " retabulum," i.e. a
square surface of wood or metal, which is met with even
on many of the altars that do not stand in front of any
saint-chest. The richest examples of this object of
adornment the great "Soester" altar-piece in Berlin,
" la pala d'oro " in St. Mark's, and Duceio's great altar
picture in Siena are completely covered by images
in beaten gold and silver, in stone or wood-carving, or
in painting. It seems probable, however, that the earliest
" retabula " carried not pictures but rather relics, for the
ecclesiastical councils from the ninth to the tenth
century permitted nothing to be set upon the altar
besides " service-books, monstrances, and relics!' 29 The
position of the "retabulum" must have fitted it peculiarly
to receive on its surface small fragments of bone, which,
when fastened on to the vertical surface, were visible
throughout the church and made no encroachment upon
the altar-table. If one imagines a * * Klappalt archen " so
the above-mentioned diptychs and triptychs were named
in Germany, when they were opened on the Mass-
table placed above a " retabulum " of this kind, one
sees a group of reliquaries, the arrangement of which
corresponds on a small scale to that of the typical
groups of pictures, and may in some cases be con-
sidered as having served as a model for them.
There are, however, authors who say that the so-called
altar-cabinets and altar-pieces were developed neither
from the pictorially- decorated gables of the saint-
shrines, nor from the small books and shelves containing
relics, but from an original saint-cabinet. But when,
in accordance with such a conception, they have
attempted to determine the contents of this cabinet,
they have not been able to suggest that these were any-
thing but relics. 30 The "predella," again, has in the
64 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
same way been explained as a rudiment of a complete
box containing some sacred bones. In ancient docu-
ments information lias indeed been found showing
clearly that such relic -boxes were set up on the
altar. Thus even this hypothesis is based on the
supposition that during an earlier phase the paintings
and sculptures had their antecedents in relics. 31
Although investigators have not yet succeeded in
putting forward any generally recognised explanation of
the origin of the altar-piece, it is possible to deduce from
the different theories some common statements which
do correspond with the principles established in this
and the previous chapters. The worship of saint-
pictures attaches itself to the worship of saint-relics,
and the pictures, by reason of the magical world-
philosophy, are thought to possess an influence similar
to that of the miracle-working bones. The representa-
tions of saints which fill the walls and doors of wing-
altars or the compartments of great polyptychs point
back to a period when those saints were represented, not
only by pictures, but also by fragments of their bones
in relic-carrying altar-pieces. Again, the very arrange-
ment of groups of pictures at the altar preserves
the memory of different relic-cases and relic-shelves
erected behind or above the Mass -table. It would,
of course, be too much to say that pious people would
not have thought of adorning the holiest place in
the church with pictures and sculptures, without having
had before them some patterns from earlier models.
But as we know that stands, shelves, and cabinets for
miracle-working bones had been placed in the vicinity
of the altar, and in a number of cases had been decorated
with pictures ; and as, on the other hand, we find in the
supporting or enclosing function of these reliquaries an
iv THE EELIQUAEY 65
explanation of the peculiar disposition of altar-pieces, we
can hardly be considered too venturesome if we connect
the two types with each other. For the purposes of this
work It is not necessary to decide how far any particular
one and In that case which one of the different ways
of exhibiting relics deserves to be considered as the
model for the old altar-pictures. It is sufficient that we
can In any case assert that even the most conspicuous
of the objects of decoration in the church, the great
group of pictures at the altar, has received its outer form
as a loan or an Inheritance from the pictorially decorated
receptacles of the wonder-working bones of saints. The
remains of the dead, which constitute the precious con-
tents of the hidden grave of the Mass-table, have
occupied a prominent place in the decoration of the altar
walls. If, therefore, the great altar-pieces cannot be re-
garded as actual shrines, yet they have, as cabinets or
shelves, supported or enclosed sacred contents similar to
those which were fitted in under the sacrament table.
This fact affords an idea of the importance of the objects
for which Catholic art erected and embellished the first,
though not the most important, of her holy shrines.
CHAPTER V
THE MASS
Je crois en la toute-pr6sence
A la messe de Jesus-Ckrist ;
Je crois a la tonte-puissance
Du sang qne pour nous il offirit,
Et qu'il offre au seul Juge encore
Par ce mystere gue j 'adore,
Qui fait qu'un homme vain, menteur,
Pourvu qri'il porte le vrai signe
Qui le consacre entre tous digne,
Puisse creer le Cre'ateiir.
PAUL VERLAINE, Borikeur XVI.
IN all that has been said in the previous chapters in re-
gard to the arrangement and embellishment of the altar-
place, no mention has been made of the ceremony, the
purpose of which the altar is primarily intended to serve.
"What is essential and original in the Catholic ritual has
been passed over in favour of a cult which only during
the course of its development associated itself with divine
worship. The Mass-table has been looked at exclusively
as a receptacle for relics ; and in the case of the other
liturgical objects, only those peculiarities have been
noticed which spring from their function of enclosing or
supporting the bones of saints. Such a procedure has
been necessary in order to make the principles of the
form-development appear with full clearness ; but, on
the other hand, it must not be forgotten that the
distinction, if persevered in longer than is absolutely
66
CHAP, v THE MASS 67
necessary, may easily lead to a wrong interpretation of
the concrete works of art. In so far as we have to
explain the shaping of the type, we must attach weight
to the altar's property of enclosing relics ; but when
on the other hand we have to give an account of the
altar's function in religious ceremonial, then the altar
must be treated not as a saint's grave but as a Mass-
table. These two principles appear to be so simple and
clear that one ought easily to be able to- avoid confusing
them, but none the less there are particular cases in
which doubt may rise as to which of the two views
ought to be adopted.
One experiences such a doubt, for instance, when one
sees the golden crowns and wreaths which in some of the
old " ciboria " have been hung up above the altar. 1 There
is no question that the princes who offered these costly
ornaments to the Church desired thereby to express their
reverence for the altar-place. But what was it in the
altar that they chiefly desired to honour ? According to
the old Christian conception, the wreath is the distinctive
emblem of the martyrs. They who have fought the
" good fight " of faith with the sacrifice of their lives are
looked upon as " God's athletes," who after death will
receive their reward in the same decoration as crowned
the victors in worldly games. 2 It is easiest then, so
it would seem, to explain the wreaths as a kind of
homage to the name-saints of the Church or of the
altar, i.e. to the martyrs whose relics rest under the
Mass-table ; but there are some authors who have been
unwilling to avail themselves of this interpretation.
Thus Barbier de Montault considers that crowns were
suspended over the altar to express the thought of
Christ's royal dignity. 3 Eohault de Fleury supposes
indeed that this custom had its origin in the desire to
68 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
honour martyrs, but he imagines the original purpose
of the decorations to have been altered in the course of
time. When the West Gothic kings offered to the
Church such costly "regna"as, for example, Eecces-
vinthus's famous crown (now preserved in the Cluny
Museum), they did not, according to de Fleury, worship
saints, but they presented their homage to the King of
kings, whose flesh and blood rested upon the altar
during Mass. 4
It is in itself of no great importance to decide
whether the French authors are right or wrong in their
interpretation. The old hanging ornaments have been
mentioned here only because they offer a striking
example of that twofold meaning which renders difficult
the treatment of all questions concerning the symbolism
of the altar. We are compelled to remember continually
that it is not only the martyrs who hold sway over the
sacred place, but that the Mass-table is also a room for
something more worthy of reverence than the relics of
great witnesses to the faith. 5
In some cases, indeed, this fact must be borne in
mind even with reference to that particular part of the
altar which has acquired the significance of a saint-shrine.
Although it was considered necessary to enclose some
relics under the table-surface, yet the possibility that
such might not be everywhere procurable was recognised.
In these cases people had the right to have the saint's
bones replaced by " fragments of the Saviour's body/'
i.e. by pieces of a consecrated wafer. 6 Thereby the
altar became literally a grave of Christ ; but there is no
need to suppose that its sacredness had been to any
essential degree increased. Indeed, quite independently
of the contents of the hidden receptacle, it must
have been easy to associate in thought the room over
THE MASS 69
which the sacramental transformation was enacted, with
the last resting-place of the dead God-man. In the
Greek Church such a connection of ideas is clearly
expressed by a picture of Christ's burial sewn to the
"antimensium," i.e. the silk cloth which covers the front
of every Mass-table, and without which the table cannot
be used for its lofty purpose. 7 The Roman Church does
not indeed possess anything corresponding to these
pictorial representations unless we care to cite that
singular altar at Dresden, the front of which bears a
relief of Christ's grave, with the three Marys in the back-
ground and a sleeping soldier in each corner. 8 But the
thought itself may have been a sufficiently conscious
one, even though it has not been more frequently
expressed in painting or sculpture; 9 and the ritual
Easter-dramas, in which the altar, or some little tem-
porary erection on the altar, represented the grave at
Jerusalem, must to some extent have had the effect of
strengthening the idea that the Mass-table was some-
thing holier than a reliquary.
If the thought of the body of the Divinity thus
attached itself through various intermediaries to the
altar-chest, it was naturally difficult for the saint-cult
to assert its aims in relation to the holy table-surface.
In the last chapter it was pointed out that from the
beginning of the ninth century crucifixes and reliquaries
might be set up on the altar; but it was expressly
stated that in placing these ornaments the only ones
permitted in the holy place care must be taken to
refrain from occupying too much space. The saint-
shrine sought to win as prominent a position as possible,
but it was not allowed to encroach upon the sphere
of objects holier than the relics. 10 Thus in all the
varying ways of arranging reliquaries behind or
70 TEE SACBEB SHRINE CHAP.
above the altar, we can read the story of a struggle
for precedence between two cults. The receptacle
for the remains of the dead tried to push its way
forward into the central and dominant position in the
church, and it had even succeeded in forcing its shape
upon the lower part of the altar, which was transformed
into a closed chest. But if it attempted to assert its
influence over the Mass-table itself, it was thrust aside
and retired to a more backward, if to no less visible a
position.
The official rules for the decoration of the altar do
not indeed openly bear witness to the existence of any
such conflict between the claims of the Mass-table and
the reliquaries, but the pious legends are in this
respect much more illuminating. Thus there is a
little monkish anecdote from the tenth century proving
that even the saints themselves might denounce the
encroachments upon the sanctity of the Sacrament, of
which their worshippers were guilty :
In a church near the monastery of Cluny, so runs
the story, many miracles had been performed by the
bones of St. Walpurgis; but on one occasion, when
these relics had been placed for some days on the altar-
table itself, the miracles completely ceased. The sick
who besought the saint's help waited in vain to be
healed, until one of them received a revelation from
St. "Walpurgis. "The reason you have not recovered
your health," said the saint, "is that my relics have
been put on God's Altar, which ought not to be used
save for the divine mysteries." After the sick man
had related his vision, the relics were moved back
to the place which they had formerly occupied, and
in the same hour the miraculous cures began anew. 11
No better proof can be desired of the fact that the
71
Saint-worship was rightly understood as a parasitic cult,
which, however closely it might connect itself with
the altar service, could not In any way obscure from
view the significance of the Mass. Even though the
relics preserved in and on and over the altar were
looked upon with reverence, yet a deeper regard was
given to the objects which had immediate reference to
the Sacrament itself And if to pass over, for the
present, the movable paraphernalia it was considered
necessary for every complete altar to preserve some
bones of martyrs in its interior, yet in any case the
receptacle for relics was not the most essential part
of the Mass -table. The small travelling altars, in
which the liturgical furniture was reduced to its most
indispensable components, are in this respect particu-
larly illuminating. They can indeed all be looked
upon as portable relic-shrines, but they have besides,
on the lid of the case, a consecrated stone which is no
less important than the bones within. This stone, which
was to bear the Sacrament, had been solemnly consecrated
for its purpose by a bishop. Plates of the same kind
were fitted also into Mass-tables in remote churches
which could not receive episcopal consecration. 12
When it was in any way possible, however, people
preferred to have the whole altar-surface consecrated for
its purpose on the spot it was to occupy. On such an
occasion the officiating bishop performed some important
ceremonies for which a definite ritual must have been
devised as early as the twelfth century. The procedure
at a consecration is indeed described in detail by the
liturgical author Durandus de Mende, whose famous
Rationale divinorum qffidorum was composed in
1286. Durandus first relates how the altar was
sprinkled with holy water, and how it was baptised
72 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
with baptismal water. When this has been done, he
says, it remains for the priest to anoint the altar with
oil and unguents. While doing this, he sings : " Jacob
raised up a stone as a monument, and poured oil there
over." 13 The first sanctuary in Bethel was thus the
type for all altars, and it was desired with that tradi-
tional adherence to Jewish models which would afford
material for long historical digressions to connect
Christian ceremonies with old biblical religious customs.
That so much weight should be attached to the
consecration of the altar becomes perfectly intelligible if
we take into account what were the objects far more
precious than any relics which the holy table-surface
was to bear. To the pious Catholic the altar is literally
a "holy and dreadful place" (Gen. xxviii. 17), at which,
like Jacob at Bethel and Peniel (Gen. xxviii. 13, xxxii.
30), he can meet God face to face. At the Mass-table
there daily comes to pass the great miracle through
which the highest substance takes the place of the
substance of earthly materials, without the latters'
modi and accidents, i.e. their outer manifestations, being
visibly transformed. 14 Where heathens and unbelievers
see nothing but a piece of bread and some drops of
wine, there the faithful see their God in entire and
undivided presence. They are not misled by the outer
covering behind which the Mighty has concealed Him-
self in order to protect human senses from being
blinded by His splendour ; 15 they know, they say, that
He can be seen by faith, and even touched and con-
sumed. 16 Daily, through the mediation of His priest,
He binds Himself to His community, and allows Him-
self to be appropriated by it in a fusion of beings which
is illustrated by the most material, and therefore for our
THE MASS 73
senses the clearest, form of appropriation, i.e. through
eating and drinking. Daily He offers Himself anew
for His community, when He gives Himself as an
atonement for the sins of mankind, A Roman Mass
is indeed not only a Communion meal, but it is also,
and above all, a holy action through which the work
of redemption is repeated in the ritualistic celebrations,
in order to serve with undirainished force, at each
repetition, as a new sacrifice of atonement.
It is the rich and significant purport of this
ritual that made the Mass the greatest sacrament of
Catholicism. The service of the altar is the nucleus
of the Church's worship, just as the altar-table is the
central point of the church building. Therefore, church
art ought also, it would seem, to be explicable in its
character and purpose, if considered in connection with
the ritual performed at the altar.
The Catholic Mass is indeed a centre within the
sphere of aesthetic phenomena also. The different art-
forms collect, as at a centre point, round the ritual
action. The service of the altar is above all musical,
and it exercises its chief attraction over the unbeliever
as a concert at which he hears melodies composed to old
liturgical poems; but the Mass has also a dramatic
element, at any rate for those spectators who understand
the mystic and magical significance of the movements
and gestures of the celebrants. The place at which the
Mass is performed has been arranged according to an
architectural plan, in which every detail is full of signi-
ficance, and it is surrounded by sculptures and paintings
which often illustrate pictorially, and thus recapitulate
in a new medium, the sacred history pantomimically
suggested by the actions of the officiating priest.
Finally, decorative art extends its embellishment over
74 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAR
the objects and implements used at the ceremony.
Thus the different kinds of aesthetic production combine
in a great " Gesamtkunstwerk," all the parts of which
work together for a common purpose : to give increased
beauty, dignity, and holiness to the great Sacrament.
The contribution of the arts of design to the religious
and aesthetic effect of the Mass-ritual has been partly
noticed in the foregoing and will be treated in more
detail later. Opportunity will also be offered in some
later chapters of touching upon the hymns sung at the
altar. With regard to the musical element, the author
is compelled, by reason of defective natural qualifica-
tions, once for all to refrain from interpretation. It is
thus the dramatic-pantomimic representation which must,
in this connection, be the object of a bird's-eye view.
It should first be premised, however, that it is only
with many limitations that the words "drama" or
" pantomime " can be used with reference to the actions
of the priest at Mass. That which takes place at the
altar, has for its aim not so much the representation of
the Atonement, as the effecting of a real renewal of it.
The ritual is often indeed explained as a memorial
ceremony : 17 but it would be heresy to see in it nothing
but an illustration of the Divinity's life and death. " Im-
molatio nostra," says Albertus Magnus in a frequently
quoted passage, " non tantum est repraesentatio sed
immolatio vera, id est rei immolatae oblatio per manus
sacerdotum." 18 It is thus a practical i.e. in this case a
religious and magical and not an aesthetic act that the
priest performs. The thought of the spectators and the
impressions they may receive from the celebration has
exercised so little influence that the validity is recognised
even of " private masses," which are celebrated without
any member of the community being present ; and the
theurgical operation is so devoid of visible elements that
an uninitiated beholder has no conception of the succes-
sion of mystical events represented at the Mass-table.
One surmises that each of the priest's actions has its
significance, one understands that the singing and the
recitation refer to the great events lying at the root
of the Sacrament but one does not see the drama
progress in an intelligible form. 19
Such is the effect of the Church's ceremonial on
the outsider, and such it must be also on most modern
Catholics who, whether priests or laymen, have to
judge from the complaints of the religious authors
completely lost the understanding of the ritual's hidden
meaning. 20 But the Mass has not always been so
incomprehensible to the faithful. During the time when
the theological explanation of ritual was at its height,
people, at any rate in clerical circles, were able to
recognise the successive stages of the Redemption in
the different moments of the altar-celebration. Each
gesture of the priest and his assistants could be referred
to something corresponding to it in the sacred history.
Thus the celebration appeared as a repetition of the
Saviour's life and death, which symbolically, even if not
actually, was complete and intelligible.
It was during the ninth century that such a view
was for the first time put forth in detail by Amalaxius
of Mete. 21 Later, during the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries, the symbolical interpretation was worked out
more and more by those authors who treated of the
Mass-ceremonies, faithfully following Amalarius's famous
writings. Honorius Augustodunensis even goes so far
as to use descriptions from profane drama in his
explanation of altar usages. Just as those, he says,
who recited tragedies in the theatre, represented to the
76 THE SACKED SHBI1SFE CHAP.
people by their gestures the strifes of contentious men,
so our tragedian, the priest, represents Christ's strife to
the Christian people in the Church. 22 And it is not
merely this one dramatic battle that is to be witnessed
in the Church's ritual The Saviour's victory over the
powers of evil was prefigured, according to the mediaeval
conception, in the victories which G-od's people, led by
Moses, Joshua, and David, gained over their enemies.
Again, all these struggles are models for the strife man-
kind has to wage against the world, the flesh, and the
devil. It is therefore a threefold triumph that is
celebrated in the Mass-ritual. 23 Those who witness the
great ceremonial with proper attention ought to win
from it- dogmatic teaching, historical instruction, and
moral exhortation. The application to the conflicts of
the individual's life is indeed left to the congregation
itself; but all that touches Christ and His predecessors
is, so the old ritualists assert, clearly set forth in the
ceremony. The priest, they say, represents at the
same time the Old Testament " types " and the per-
sonality in whom the types achieved their realisation.
When, therefore, the celebrant, in full liturgical
array and followed by deacons and choir-boys, steps
forth from the sacristy towards the altar, he is Christ,
who from the womb, i.e. the sacristy, appears upon
earth, "like a bridegroom from his bridechamber." 24
He is also a leader of God's people, clad in ritual
panoply, in order that he may carry the Ark of the
Covenant through the enemy's country to the promised
land. 25 When he stands before the altar with out-
stretched arms he represents not only the Crucified, 26 but
also Moses, who, with his outspread hands, brought
Israel victory over the Amalekites ; 27 and similarly,
according to the ritualistic view, his gestures and
THE MASS 77
movements should recall Joshua's conquests and David^s
victories. 28
During the introductory portion of the Mass-ritual,
which Is supposed to represent the Saviour's earlier
work, and which in addition to this alludes to the Old
Testament prototypes, it is only in meagre and hasty
indications that the events commemorated are recalled.
As soon, however, as the ceremony has reached the
sacrificial moment, the priest's movements, words, and
gestures follow the holy action very closely. The
celebrant's peculiar, and to the uninitiated meaningless,
movements towards and away from the altar, his inclina-
tions of his body and head, his kneeling, and his out-
stretched hands all these movements are in liturgical
literature connected with definite scenes in the history
of the Passion. He mixes water with the wine in the
chalice, because Christ, it Is said, diluted the wine at the
Communion ; he washes his hands in memory of the
washing of the Apostles ; and he swings the censer three
times over the substance of the sacrament, because
Mary Magdalene three times at the houses of Simon the
Pharisee and Simon the leper, and at the grave offered
sweet-smelling salves to anoint the Saviour's body.
Afterwards, when the priest walks to the middle of the
altar, he illustrates the walking of Jesus from the place
of the Last Supper to G-ethsemane. He prays in front of
the altar in a bowed and humble posture to commemo-
rate the prayer that Jesus, bowed and perplexed, prayed
on the Mount of Olives ; and he sets forth the waking of
the disciples when lie ceases praying, turns towards the
congregation and utters the invocation " Orate Fratres." ^
The great gesture at the culminating point of the
ceremony, when the priest lifts the Host and the chalice
above his head, serves, in the symbolic interpretation,
78 SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
to illustrate the raising of the Cross. And when at the
same moment the acolyte rings Ms little silver bell or
as is the case in some Catholic monasteries, the bells in
the bell-tower toll so this sound is not only a sign that
the great miracle of Transubstantiation has been accom-
plished, but it also forms a part of the dramatic com-
memoration. At the first ringing of the bells, i.e. at
the elevation of the Host, we ought, according to the
directions of a pious author, to recall the blare of
the trumpets with which the Roman soldiers were wont
to drown tie cries of the criminals and tlie murmurs
of the spectators at executions. When again, some
moments later, the chalice is raised during a renewed
ringing of bells, the sound this time represents, with its
weak notes, a still mightier noise than that of the
trumpets ; for the tinkling of the small silver tongues
corresponds, in the interpretation of some ritualists, to
the great earthquake that occurred at the final moment.
And the priest's voice, heard after a long silence, should
recall the words : " Jesus said : It is finished, and bowed
His head and gave up the ghost. 1 ' 31
It may seem as if these interpretations marked the
limit of what a theological imagination could reach.
Nevertheless, the search for subtle analogies was carried
still further in the explanation of the conclusion of the
ceremony. After the priest has recalled the Saviour's
death, he proceeds, say the interpreters, to represent the
descent from the Cross and the burial. During this act,
if such an expression may be permitted, he is no longer
the only performer. The deacons who assist in carrying
away the holy vessels all play a definite part in the
liturgical " drama/' Their situation by the altar cor-
responds to the positions occupied by the disciples and
the praying women, first before the Cross and later by
THE MASS 79
the grave. The first server, who removes the chalice
and covers it with a cloth, represents Joseph of
Arimathea, who covered the dead God's head with a
cloth when he took Him down from the Cross. The
acolyte who carries the paten, i.e. the plate for the
Host, represents Nicodemus. The three signs of the
Cross that are made over the chalice signify the three
days that the Saviour rested in the grave. 32 Thus when
the death and the burial have been commemorated, it-
only remains to do homage in word and gesture to the
risen Saviour, and this the priest does in the prayer
" Agnus Del."
Such in its main features is the dramatisation of the
Passion Story, as it is achieved by the movements of
the priest and his assistants. In the Catholic Mass-
ceremonial, however, as interpreted by the old ritualists,
the lifeless objects on the altar, the chalice, the paten,
and even the altar-cloth, possess almost as much import-
ance as the living persons. The holy cup, for example,
is not only the vessel in which the wine Is transformed
into a eucharistic divinity, but it also corresponds to
the chamber in which the Divine Man was hidden when
dead. When the priest has dipped a portion of the
Host in the chalice after the consecration, it is said that
he has therewith buried Christ anew ; w and when later
the paten is placed over the mouth of the chalice, the
stone has therewith been rolled to the entrance of the
grave. The little piece of cloth, which covers the chalice
when it is lifted from the altar, represents, as has been
said, the sheet in which the body was taken down from
the Cross. Again, the cloth which Is spread upon the
altar, for the consecrated wafer or for a fragment of it
to rest upon, is (as is denoted by its name " corporale "
80 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
or " sindone ") the winding sheet that covered the
Saviour in His grave ; 34 but it can also, and especially at
Christmas Masses, be regarded as the swaddling-cloth
in which the new-born Babe was wrapped. 35
Finally, the altar is, by turns, the scene of one or
the other of the great events ; it is a cradle, a place of
execution, and a grave. 36 Its different parts correspond
to parts of the circuit within which the holy story has
been unfolded. Thus, by withdrawing from the right
side of the altar, the priest can signify the Saviour's
rejection of the ungrateful Judea, and by lingering at
the centre of the altar, can recall how Jesus sojourned
in the desert before He came to Galilee. Thus, also,
merely by moving the Bible from right to left, he can
illustrate the fact that the heathen whose lands are
represented by the left edge of the altar received
the Saviour from the Jews, who rejected the good
tidings and persecuted Its messengers. By using the
same symbolism, he can, at the close of the ceremony,
move the sacred book once more to Palestine, i.e. to the
right side of the altar, in order to recall that the Jews
also will one day obtain forgiveness for their sin. 3r The
little table-surface has thus been divided, by invisible
frontiers, into compartments over which the Church's
accessories books,* goblets, plates, and fragments of
bread are moved to and fro, very much like the pieces
on a backgammon board. But the altar is better
characterised by another comparison. It is a little
stage on which a drama is played, not by actors or
puppets, but by symbolical objects ; and the principal
personality is the highest Being Himself, who, called
down to the holy place by the priest's theurgical words,
once more lives through His sufferings, His death and
His resurrection, in the disguise of the little wafer.
81
It must not be forgotten, however, that It is only
according to the interpretation of certain mediaeval
authors that all the small details in the service of the altar
are important for the symbolical commemoration. So
far as the origin of the Church's ritual is concerned, these
ingenious expositions prove nothing at all. We cannot
imagine that the Mass - ceremonial was worked out
to illustrate so detailed a programme as Amalarius,
Honorius, and Durandus set forth in their writings.
On the contrary the probability is that in many
cases the symbolical significance was introduced into
the altar -usages after the latter had received their
final form. It is an often - observed fact that old
cults, the history of whose development has sunk into
oblivion, give rise to mythical or legendary explana-
tions i.e. that a ceremony is considered to be a
commemoration of some fictitious event which it is
supposed to represent dramatically. Even among
primitive peoples there exist many so-called ec etiologi-
cal myths," which evidently have had their origin in an
attempt to account for some old ritual acts, the
original purpose of which wa"fe no longer known. That
the Catholic authors in their commentaries on the
Mass should make use of the universally prevalent
method was all the more natural, as in their case there
was np need to discover any new legends. They had
only to search the holy story for some striking moments
which could be connected with the time-honoured actions
at the celebration of the Sacrament. Such a task
demanded indeed a rich imagination, and good will
besides ; but both these qualities were found in
abundance among the old symbolists. Thus they
were able without difficulty to compile a running
historical narrative which connects itself step by step
82 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
with all the movements and gestures of the officiating
priest.
How unnatural in many points are the symbolical
interpretations of the Mass will appear clearly from
the following chapters. We shall see, for instance, that
the little bell -signal, which follows the raising and
showing of the Bucharistic Divinity, was not originally
introduced into the ritual in order to commemorate
the trumpet - blast at the Saviour's death* In the
same way it will appear that the washing of the
priest's hands is to be explained much more simply
than by referring to Pilate's excuses before pronouncing
judgment. It is a truly whimsical and arbitrary fancy
that has been at work in the search for historical
correspondences to special moments in the ceremony.
Therefore the theologians have not been able to agree on
the interpretation of the holy celebration. While some,
following the view of the mediaeval ritualists, regard the
Mass as a symbolical representation of the whole work of
atonement, others hold that only the actual scenes of the
Passion are illustrated at the altar. Nor do the old
authors agree as to the events to which the dramatisation
refers. That the priest, for instance, washes his hands
before the consecration, is explained either as a com-
memoration of the washing of the Apostles at the first
Communion, or again as a representation of Pilate's
washing of his hands.
The ingenious interpretations which were thought
out by certain mediaeval authors have not therefore
won unqualified adherents even among the Catholic
priesthood ; and, as has already been said, they are, at
any rate to-day, unknown to the greater part of the con-
gregation. Further, they have not to any notable degree
reacted on the Mass-ceremony itself. The movements
THE MASS 83
and gestures of the priest and Ms assistants. In which
some were desirous of seeing a commemoration of his-
torical events, has, In spite of all commentators, continued
to retain Its indefinite character. In such circum-
stances It will perhaps be asked why these purely
theological systems of thought have been touched upon
at all in an aesthetic inquiry.
It would indeed be venturesome to assert that the
symbolical interpretations of the Mass exercised any
immediate influence on aesthetic life ; but the reasoning
that prevails in mediaeval ritualistic literature is still of
undoubted interest for both the theory and the history
of art. However fantastic Amalarius and his successors
may be in their theories, we can nevertheless see, in their
attempt to explain the priest's action as an accurately
rendered memorial of the holy story, a proof of the
aspiration of faithful Catholics to dramatise their beliefs.
This aspiration has in other ceremonies for example, the
dedication of churches led to clearer and more concrete
results than in the Mass-ritual itself. 38 But none the
less it was a kind of ideal drama that was worked out
by the pious liturgists, and their ideas were not
completely devoid of correspondence with reality. A
religious play was concealed in the Mass even if it
did not appear there in such completeness as some
would have liked to think. Only some favourable
circumstances were needed for the same dramatic
tendency, which led to the theoretic explanation of
the Mass, to find a practical expression in a visible
manifestation intelligible to everybody.
If, indeed, it was not considered expedient, or even
dogmatically correct, to let the theatrical element be
prominent in the daily altar-service, yet there were
special occasions which offered an easy opportunity of
84 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP.
bringing out the latent dramatic possibilities of the
Mass. The great feast-days had indeed been set apart
in the Church's calendar simply to serve as memorials
of definite events in the holy story. When Mass was
celebrated at such a festival, the commemorative purpose
naturally played a weightier part than at the ordinary
altar ceremonies. The merely allusive action connected
with the celebration must have appeared unsatisfactory.
The symbolic commemoration was therefore completed in
a more and more realistic direction. New parts, specially
referring to the day's festival, were introduced into the
liturgical text, and the text was divided among several
persons, who carried on a dialogue or an antiphone.
Sometimes the performers were distinguished by a discreet
costuming which made it possible to differentiate the
pious women, for example, from the angel at the grave.
At Easter ceremonies there was often set up on or by one
of the altars a temporary little building the so-called
" sepulcrum " in which was hidden a cross or a conse-
crated wafer, i.e. the symbol of the Saviour or the eucha-
ristic God Himself. Before this grave the antiphone
took place between the angels and the Marys who seek
the risen Saviour. But it was probably only at a later
period of development that recourse was had to such a
staging. Originally the holy grave appears to have been
represented by the crypt, the " confessio," or the altar,
i.e. by the same place that was the stage for the daily
religious mysteries. 89 All the associations of ideas con-
nected with the Mass-table and its apparatus were very
welcome when the memory of the Resurrection was to
be celebrated by a visible representation. Thus arose
the famous Easter ceremonies which were performed in
the French monasteries during the tenth and eleventh
centuries.
THE MASS 85
From the evolutionary standpoint these liturgical
plays mark an important Intermediary stage between a
ritual ceremony and a drama. Although they do not
let us see the final result of the development, they show
us the direction in which the development Is taking
place. We understand that the step from the church
celebration to a theatrical representation would be made
in its entirety as soon as the memorial ceremonies were
performed before a larger public. Among laymen, a
complete grasp of the import of the liturgical symbols
could not be counted upon, nor could the great
mass of men be expected to be satisfied with mere
decorative indications. It proved necessary to empha-
sise the action and to strengthen its effect by exterior
means. When the religious memorial festivals were
removed from the church to the market-place and the
street, the simple dialogue before the altar was replaced
by a great " mysterium " with decorations and costumes,
and with a lively dramatic action of both choir and
soloists. 40
In the present work, however, there can be no
question of describing the development which the
religious theatre underwent after it had broken its
connection with the rites of the Church. It belongs to
a different task to give an account of the mysteries and
miracle-plays which always pious in their pretext, but
often very worldly in their character were performed
at the Church's festivals. It would likewise lead us too
far from our subject if we treated of all the other ritual
usages which, side by side with the altar ceremonies, lay
at the root of the rise of the mediaeval theatre. For
our present purpose it will be enough if we can show
clearly that the Mass-ritual itself contains an expression
of the same mental aspirations which are at work in
86 THE SACEED SHEIFE CHAP.
dramatic art. It remains, therefore, to go back to the
altar-cult itself to inquire whether the attitude of priest
and congregation to the holy ceremony can in any
degree be put on a level with the mental attitude of
the actors who perform, and the public which witnesses,
a drama.
There can be only one opinion as to the impossi-
bility of comparing the Mass-celebration to an ordinary
theatrical performance. The ritual regulations do not
sanction any dramatically expressive representation ; but
none the less pious priests may be said to play a part in
their imagination when, with Honorius's or Durandus's
explanations in mind, they perform the sacred acts at
the altar. The state of mind in which they carry
out their programme of pre-arranged movements and
gestures must to some extent be allied to those aspira-
tions which lie at the basis of dramatic art. In either
case we have to do with an imaginative attempt to pro-
ject oneself into a course of strange and remote events.
In an actual drama this attempt is facilitated by the
sensuous vision, i.e. by the impressions of scenery and
costumes and exterior apparatus generally, which assist
the imagination in its work. In the ritual ceremonial,
on the other hand, the imagination builds upon a slight
foundation of certain small predetermined signals, the
importance of which is known only to the initiated.
Still, even the priests see before them a suggestive
decoration when they stand before this altar, which is
surrounded with pictures of the great Passion Story.
Eeligious music and liturgical texts lend their aid to
the imagination, and the power of faith in creating
illusion is greater than any aesthetic aspiration. Thus
many examples may be quoted of priests who were
so absorbed by the great mystery that they could not
THE MASS 87
retain their self-possession when celebrating Mass. "We
hear of holy men who actually tried to resign their
service at the altar because they felt too weak to live
through the mighty drama. 41
A similar state of mind must be supposed to exist
among the pious members of a congregation witnessing
the altar ceremonies. It is indeed, as has been said,
difficult to imagine that ignorant persons in the Middle
Ages should have been able to grasp the whole of the
long and involved story, which, in the view of the
ritualists, was symbolically presented at Mass. The
" anagogical" and " tropological " references must have
remained incomprehensible to the majority of lay-
men, nor could they follow the progress of all
the Old and New Testament narratives that were
reflected one within another in the ceremony. But
this by no means implies that the Mass even for them
must have been a meaningless play. The religious
literature of Catholicism, on the contrary, testifies quite
indubitably that even those who were uninitiated into
the profundities of ritual could receive at the altar-
ceremony the impression of a mystical drama. Although
the Latin text could not tell the congregation what took
place at the altar, the purport of the celebration was
none the less divined. The essential events in the
sacred story stood out with the clearness of life, to the
imagination if not to the eye. For, however difficult
it may have been to grasp the meaning of the profound
symbols, there was nevertheless one thing in the Mass
that was not a symbol, but a reality. The Supreme
Being Himself was, so the faithful believed, present at the
altar, hidden behind the bread, whose substance was
transformed into divine substance although its outer
form remained unaltered. No special effort of thought
88 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP, v
Is needed to understand how much this belief was
calculated to influence religious imagination among both
learned and unlearned.
In a little material object, the white wafer, pious
people saw, with the eyes of faith, the greatest and
loftiest thing that their minds could grasp. He, " for
whom the whole world was too narrow," showed Him-
self to them in a limited and tangible shape. The
fact that the sensuous vision could thus embrace a small
Impression, sustaining the richest and widest association
of ideas and serving as a meeting-point for the deepest
feelings, could not fail to influence powerfully both in-
tellectual and emotional life. While the sight rested on
the material object, imagination occupied itself with the
Being concealed behind. The eye saw a wafer carried
in a monstrance, or lying on a paten, or hidden in a
shrine ; but the thought gazed upon the Supreme Being,
on His throne in the monstrance, in His cradle on the
paten, in His grave in the shrine. And the thought
was not satisfied with resting on the sight of the
Divinity ; with or without the help of theological ex-
planations, it followed the course of the divine life
through all the events the memory of which the Church
was celebrating. Through the unconscious play of
imagination, the great drama was worked out over and
over again in all the generations of believers who
witnessed or performed the Mass - ceremony. Some
pious outpourings in the Lives of the Saints and some
religious poems constitute the only immediate gain
derived by art from this imaginative life ; but the history
of aesthetic evolution has to deal not only with perfected
objective products, but also with all the unsung poems
and all the unconsciously artistic creations and experi-
ences evoked among believers by the religious cult.
CHAPTER VI
THE HOLY OF HOLIES
Nur ein Gebot gilt dir : Sei rein.
NIETZSCHE, Stemenmoral.
As one realises the predominating position held by
the Sacrament of the Altar, one easily understands that
the importance of the Mass as regards church art may
be overestimated. It is not surprising, therefore, to find
that some investigators have tried to derive from this
sacrament the very origin of religious art-forms.
In the case of church architecture such an attempt
has been made by F. Witting. In his book, Die
Anfdnge der christlichen Architektur, this author
entirely rejects all the different hypotheses as to older
models for the Christian basilica. In his view it is solely
the needs of the cult, and especially the needs of the
communion, that have created the type of the Church's
buildings. The relation of the nave to the apse, he
says, has been determined by the attempt to make the
celebration of the Sacrament visible to the congregation,
and the successive alterations in the plan of the church
have all been occasioned by corresponding alterations
in the Mass-ritual. In support of this theory of an
" innere Genesis der Basilica," Witting has advanced
many pertinent, if rather over-subtle observations as to
the development of the eucharistic ceremonies ; * but he
89
90 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
has not succeeded in proving that the ritual has by itself
given rise to the architectural forms. The question of the
development of the basilica, indeed, cannot be regarded
as having been definitely answered by research ; but it
appears indisputable that the explanation of the design
of churches must be looked for, not so much in any
" inner " causes peculiar to Christendom, but rather in
the influence of concrete architectural types which had
served as models for the Christian house of assembly.
It has already been shown that the great Sacrament did
not succeed in communicating any new or peculiar form
even to the Mass-table at which the ceremony was
performed, but that, on the contrary, the altar itself
derived its outer shape from older constructions which
originally had no connection with the communion ritual.
It must be recognised, therefore, that too great import-
ance has been assigned by Witting's theory to the influence
exercised by the cult on the forms of architecture.
This example from the history of architecture is cited
here only in order to justify an indispensable distinction.
The same judgment that holds in the case of Witting's
theory can, in our opinion, be applied a priori to all hypo-
theses which derive the outer forms of art exclusively from
the exigencies of religious dogma and ritual. In saying
so, however, we do not in any way deny the cult's import-
ance in the matter of aesthetic production. Even if we
are compelled to be on our guard against over-imaginative
explanations of the origin of the art-forms themselves,
we run little danger of overestimating the influence of
the Sacrament on the aesthetic life that expresses itself
in these forms. In its import and its purpose, even if
not in its outer shape, artistic production must have been
influenced by the cult whose ends it served. The
correctness of this argument will be confirmed when we
vi THE HOLY OF HOLIES 91
give an account, in the present chapter, of the embellish-
ment of the altar implements.
The artistic manifestations attaching to the Mass-
ritual all have their counterpart in a specific mental
and emotional condition, which can be immediately
derived from the doctrine of the Transubstantiation
miracle. The idea that the Supreme Being takes
His place at the Mass-table that, to use S. Birgitta's
expression, " it is God Himself who daily is sacrificed and
handled at the altar under the image of the bread'' 2 lies
at the root of a peculiar way of looking at things, a
religious aesthetic attitude, so to speak, which is present
both in the production and in the appreciation of ritual
art. The determining factor in this, as generally in all
religious states of mind, is an element of worship ; but
the worship does not express itself primarily, as is the
case in the relic-cult, in a desire to approach as near
as possible to the holy object in order to be benefited
by its healing contact. The relation of pious men to
the Mass-miracle is characterised rather by a venera-
tion, such as is experienced before the Holy of holies,
whose presence is terrible in its sublimity. The great
mystery is dreaded, since it is too immense for earthly
senses to be able to bear a full understanding of its
whole import; 3 and it is feared that man himself,
through some carelessness, may waste or defile a part of
the sacrosanct Being, who is touched and handled by
unworthy hands. This fear gives rise to a studied,
reverent, and anxious caution in the movements and
gestures of the celebrant and his assistants, and it
impresses the whole of their bearing with a subdued and
devout discretion, which seems to have passed into the
external nature of those who have long moved in the
vicinity of the altar.
92 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
The same pious veneration is recognisable in the
manufacture of the objects used in the Mass- ritual. The
more definitely the doctrine of God's presence in the
Sacrament was formulated, the more holy did the earthly
implements in the Sacrament become in the eyes of the
believers. These implements ought, so it was thought,
to bear witness to their lofty purpose even in their
external appearance in their materials and decoration.
If the early Christian Church was in some degree in-
different to the embellishment of ritual accessories,
yet it was soon found necessary to formulate definite
regulations for the manufacture of altar-vessels. Thus,
as early as the eighth century, priests were forbidden to
use chalices made of horn. At a council at Rheims in
the year 813 permission was given, as an exceptional
concession to poor communities, to use a communion
service made of tin; but where it was in any way
possible the vessels had to be made of silver or
gold. 4 The Holy of holies ought not, so it was
argued, to be exposed to contact with other than
pure and holy substances, and naturally this pious
solicitude was not limited to the material of litur-
gical objects. Upon the formation and decoration of
altar implements goldsmiths were expected to bestow
the best of their skill. The manufacture of chalices and
patens was the highest task offered to art industry.
These holy vessels therefore represent, better than any
worldly utensils, the ideals which, during different
times, left their impressions on the aesthetic production.
The heavy dignity of the Romanesque period, the aerial
construction of the Gothic, the beauty of form of the
Renaissance, the magnificence of the Baroque, and the
grace of the Rococo style, are faithfully reflected in the
chalices. Even in those cases where we cannot give
vi THE HOLT OF HOLIES 93
unqualified admiration to the forms, ornamentation, or
the symbolical reliefs which are introduced to illus-
trate the doctrine of the sacramental mystery on the
surfaces of the cup, or on the knob of the chalice's
handle, we are compelled to appreciate the aspiration In
the craftsman's work. "We see that he has tried to
express that mood of exultation and reverence common
to religion and art, and that he has striven to the
best of his power to make the chalice for the holy
meal more dignified, more costly, and more beautiful
than any worldly utensil. 5
It Is not enough, however, that the Holy of holies
should be guarded in pure and beautiful receptacles. It
Is also necessary that the bread and wine, while they rest
on the altar, should not be exposed to any kind of defiling
proximity. The precautions observed with this end in
view, and the care taken to preserve the cleanness of
the Mass-table, certainly have no immediate connection
with the history of art ; but they none the less deserve
consideration in an evolutionary aesthetic. It has often
been asserted by historians of culture that the ideas of
holiness such as are met with, for instance, in the taboo
regulations among savage peoples and in the old Jewish
temple-laws fostered a ritual severity which had its
effect in the spheres of both hygiene and morality. In
the same way, one would imagine, the aesthetic ideals of
outer order and cleanliness, which were embodied in the
Mass-celebration, must, through the sacrament, have
become living models for church-goers. The rules for
the proper carrying-out of the sacrifice and the holy
meal have their importance, therefore, if not for the
development of art, at any rate for the history of that
idea of beauty which is in its origin so closely con-
nected with the ideas of order and cleanliness.
94 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
In the foregoing chapters mention has been made
of some of the precautions taken to isolate the Sacra-
ment. The Mass-table's situation upon an elevated
and enclosed place precludes the possibility of the holy
object's being exposed to defiling contact. A similar
purpose is served by the lofty " ciborium " roof, which
prevents the dust from falling upon the altar. Indeed,
the origin of this superstructure is not, as has already
been pointed out, to be found in any solicitude for the
altar-table as such. But even if the " ciborium " made
its entrance into the Church as a part of the old
sepulchral architecture, yet it must soon have been
valued as a protection for the Sacrament; and later,
perhaps on the model of the " ciborium," simpler
buildings began to be erected for this special purpose.
At the Synod in Munster in 1279 it was enacted that
altars should be provided with baldachins, which caught
all the dirt that might fall from the roof. 6 The modern
Church, indeed, has not upheld these strict requirements.
Nevertheless it appears from the existing rules for the
furnishing of house chapels that there is still a fear of
the pollution which threatens the holy place from above.
In resolutions of the Ritual-Congregation for the years
1834 and 1836, it is enacted that if a man wishes to set
up a Mass-table in a private house, he must not place it
under a living-room or a bedroom. And the altar must
in every case be covered by a "ciborium," i.e. it must
possess a roof of its own under that of the profane room.
Exceptions to this rule are permitted only in cases
where the walls of the chapel extend beyond the outer
walls of the building. 7
In the care of the altar itself the same desire
to shield the Sacrament from profanation is evident.
The foremost duty of the church server is to see that
vi THE HOLY OF HOLIES 95
the most scrupulous cleanliness reigns on the holy table.
Negligence in this respect must have occurred at all
periods, since the rules for sacristans inculcate the
demands for ritual cleanliness with such zeal; 8 but
the truly pious understood quite well, without reminders,
what was demanded in the matter of outer dignity for
the place where God revealed Himself. When S. Guido
(f 1012) was sacristan at Laeken, he " zealously took
care that the altar was clean and the roof free from
soot, and the floor well swept and the holy vessels re-
splendent." 9 S, Francis, who did not disdain to go
round with a broom under his arm, that he might be
able to sweep churches where tidying -up had been
neglected, 10 represented to his subordinates in repeated
writings the duty of keeping the altar-cloths and altar-
vessels spotlessly clean. 11 In this, as in so many of his
aspirations, he was effectually supported by his sister
in the faith, S. Clara of Assisi, for the Church linen
was a detail that women were allowed to attend to.
On the ground of their sex they were, indeed, forbidden
to approach the altar, or to touch the chalice, the paten,
and the " corporale " ; 12 but they had the right to make
ornaments for the priest's apparel and napkins for the
holy table. 13 Large numbers of such " altarparaments "
were worked by Clara during her sickness, and were
distributed by her among the small churches of the
villages in Umbria. 14
The piety which saw to it that the holy place was
cleaner than any other place, also strove to decorate it
as finely as possible. In this the ardour of the faithful
went even further than the Church authorities considered
suitable. The decoration of the altar ought in fact, as
opposed to the magnificence of the relic shrine, to be
marked by severe and dignified simplicity ; 15 therefore
96 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
frequent attempts were made to establish* by ecclesi-
astical ordinances what things might be set up on
the Mass-table. During the Middle Ages, as already
mentioned, only relic shrines, Bibles, crucifixes, and
candlesticks could be placed near the Sacrament. Later
the Church was compelled to abandon its opposition
to this devout zeal for ornamentation. Thus from the
fifteenth century a custom has flourished unchecked,
especially in nunneries and small country churches,
of laying bouquets, flower -pots, and even artificial
wreaths upon the altar ; but the ritualistic authors have
not ceased to lament this superfluous and undignified
embellishment. 16
These attempts to limit the number of altar
objects were due, perhaps, primarily to the fear that
the dominant importance of the Sacrament might be lost
to view owing to a too conspicuous decoration ; ir but
at the same time there was probably a desire to make
certain that the Eucharist should not be exposed to
profanation. This purpose is at any rate obvious in the
demands for the greatest possible cleanliness which were
formulated with regard to the table paraphernalia
permitted. The "corporale," i.e. the cloth on which the
Host rested, might not be made of coloured materials,
and the materials might not be woven of silk or wool,
as these substances, being derived from animals, were
too impure for so holy a use. Flax, on the contrary,
was a pure growth, and a flaxen cloth was a worthy
object for the purest of all things to stand on. 18 Gold
and silver again, and the precious stones which decked
the reliquaries, were to mediaeval ideas not only costly
materials, which made the shrine a worthy cover for
its sacred contents ; they were also regarded as being
purer than any other substances. This symbolical idea
vi THE HOLY OF HOLIES 97
certainly contributed to the decoration with precious
stones, not only of the saint -shrine but also of the
prayer-books that lay upon the altar. 19 Just as by
wearing a crystal or a diamond one was guarded against
the influence of the evil eye and protected from infection,
so it was thought perhaps that by means of these clear,
shining, and glittering objects a purification might be
procured of the place where the Divinity concealed Him-
self behind the " accidents " of earthy materials. 20
The great altar candles which, since the twelfth
century, have regularly been set up on either side of
the crucifix, 21 offer a still clearer example of the desire for
the greatest possible cleanliness in church utensils.
According to the old ordinances, these candles should be
moulded out of wax. Only with hesitation and reluct-
ance did the Catholic Church acquiesce in the use of
tallow or stearin candles, or, in our days, of gas and
electric light, at the great celebration. The resist-
ance to new inventions has not been due merely to a
clerical conservatism. From the point of view of
symbolism, wax candles are considered specially suited
for use at the Sacrament. They are, say some recent
Catholic authors, manufactured from a pure material,
not of man's making, and the creatures who provide
this material, the sexless bees, have through their
virginity given the wax a kind of virginal character. 22
Thus the altar candles, like all the other altar implements,
appear not only to the eye, but also to the mind, as
something spotless and pure.
If the Holy is threatened with profanation through
all ritual objects which are not made of fine and pure
materials, a much greater danger must exist that the
Sacrament may be defiled by the priests who handle
that " which neither the angels nor the prophets may
98 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
touch." 23 The possibility that a celebrant might perform
his duty with an unworthy mind and unclean thoughts
was one that often disturbed pious writers. 24 Comfort
could be found, however, in the dogma which asserts
that the effectiveness of the Mass is independent of
the state of mind of the consecrating priest ; 25 and it
was recognised, on the other hand, that no decrees could
prevent such, a degradation of the great mystery.
External cleanliness, on the contrary, could easily be
guaranteed by means of liturgical instructions. Strict
personal neatness was prescribed for the priests, there-
fore, and they were required to perform a careful toilet
prior to the holy ceremony. Again, the implements
used at this purification were, like all the other parts
of the ritual paraphernalia, the objects of rich and
beautiful embellishment.
The most peculiar of the Church's toilet requisites
are the so-called liturgical combs. These expensive
" bibelots," as met with in all the larger art-museums, are
in most cases cut out of ivory. In size they are con-
siderably larger than their purely practical purpose
would require, and their handles are adorned with
elaborate and often highly-finished pictures from the
sacred history. The stately form and the rich embellish-
ment appear quite uncalled for in instruments which
clearly could not have been worn in the hair as orna-
ments, and modern Eoman Church usage gives no
kind of direction serving to explain the purposes for
which these gorgeous things have been manufactured.
But one can understand that even so trivial an article
as a comb might be considered a worthy subject for
religious art, when one reads in the old theological
literature that before the celebration the officiating
priest was combed by the temple servers " in order that
vi THE HOLY OF HOLIES 99
nothing unclean might fall from his person over the
holy things." From the seventh to the twelfth century
mass-combs appear to have been In general use through-
out the Catholic Church. It even seems as if In a
number of cases the comb belonged to the inventory for
each separate altar. And since at the consecration of
bishops their anointed and tangled hair was combed
out, this toilet article became a mark of distinction
for magnates of the Church. As such, the comb was
placed In their graves, and was often worshipped by
the pious as a relic. 26
By an opposite development the so-called " flabella "
and " maniples " have passed from marks of rank to ritual
objects. Fans were a sign of distinction among oriental
potentates, and were waved by slaves to keep the air cool
around the thrones. The fact, however, that a church
server raised and lowered a flabellum at the side of the
officiating priest at the Mass as was often the case
during the Middle Ages was not due to any imitation
of old court ceremonies. It is more probable that the
Christian implement took the place of the fans used at
heathen altars to procure a draft for the sacrificial fire.
But if the mass-fans had thus been borrowed from the
heathen cult, the Christian ritualists at any rate under-
stood how to account for their use by a purely Catholic
thought. " It is necessary to fan the sides of the altar,"
say the mediaeval authors, " that the flies may not be
able to approach the holy things/ 127
The maniples, again, or the " sudaria," were small
pieces of cloth, embroidered with gold, worn by the
mediaeval priests over their wrists at Mass. Originally,
in the opinion of most writers, these objects also were
not clerical but heathen insignia. The Eoman emperors
had a custom of distributing to specially deserving
100 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
officials a kind of napkin, " mappulae/ 7 with which, the
latter gave the signal at the theatre for the commence-
ment of the games. Later, the " mappulae " were worn
on public occasions as a mark of distinction, and during
the Christian period the bishops were honoured by the
same gifts as the worldly dignitaries. But when they
appeared at the altar wearing a maniple, the old mark
of rank had acquired a new significance. It now, like
the combs and fans, served the purpose of ritual purity.
The priest must use it, thus write the liturgical authors,
to wipe his face, so that no drops of perspiration can
fall upon the bread and wine. 28
In early Christiau and mediaeval ritual, not only
towels were used but also hand veils. These small
cloths were to cover the priest's fingers while he
celebrated, to prevent his touching the holy objects with
his naked hand. 29 But the veils had a further meaning.
By covering the hands, as in other cases by covering
the face, fear and reverence for the divine majesty were
expressed. Thus in Christian art many pictures are to
be met with of pious men offering or receiving gifts
with covered hands. Abel has his hands concealed
when he brings his lamb to the sacrifice; 30 so have
the martyrs when they stretch forth their crowns to the
Saviour ; 31 and so has Simeon when, in the Temple, he
lifts the holy child in his arms. 32 On the sarcophagi at
Ravenna Paul receives the rolls of the law with veiled
hands, 33 and on the arcosol vault in Santa Ciriaca the
Israelites collect the rain of manna in the same rever-
ential way. 84 This gesture is expressed more completely
than anywhere else, however, in the famous Communion
picture in the Codex Eossanensis, where a disciple with
humble bearing and veiled hands approaches the Saviour
to receive the bread from His hand. 35
vi THE HOLY OF 101
"Whether the hands of the celebrant and communicant
were covered or not, they must in any case, according
to the Church's conception, before everything be clean.
The ritual washing, which played so important a part
in the heathen mysteries and the Jewish temple usages,
attached itself quite naturally to the Mass-Sacrament. 36
The members of the congregation, before entering the
church, rinsed their hands in the great cistern in the
vestibule, and the requirement that people should
come to the holy meal with clean fingers was so strict
that even the most rigorous and most squalid of the
ascetics were compelled to submit to it. Thus Palladius
relates how in the Egyptian desert he met a pious
woman who was versed in the whole of Christian
theological literature, and who gave her opinion with
authority upon all dogmatic questions. This learned
lady could proudly assert that throughout her life she
had never once allowed her face, her feet, or any other
part of her body to be touched by water. But even she,
it appeared, had washed the tips of her fingers on all the
days when she had partaken of the holy meal. 37
From the priests themselves, who break the holy
bread and handle the vessels which at the earliest times
might not be touched even by sub-deacons, 38 there is
naturally demanded an even stricter cleanliness than
from the communicants and sacristans. The extreme
consequence of the ritualistic point of view would
probably be that the celebrant should submit to a
thorough manicure. So far, however, things did not go;
but anxiety for the care of the hands is expressed, to
name a single instance only, in the regulations issued
concerning the use of tobacco by priests. The clerical
faculty's addiction to nicotine has indeed caused many
heart-searchings among ecclesiastical authorities. Snuff
102 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP.
soils the fingers and the dress, and has often led to
the terrible impropriety of priests, out of carelessness,
placing their snuff-boxes on the altar. Cigarettes, again,
have this demerit, that the smoke indelibly blackens
those fingers the thumb and fore-finger of the right
hand which handle the Host at the altar. If the priests
cannot renounce smoking, they ought, according to
Barbier de Montault, to make use of mouthpieces which
save the hands from becoming soiled. 39
During the Middle Ages there was no cause for
uneasiness about the marks that tobacco might leave on
the priest's fingers ; and, on the whole, the precautions
of cleanliness taken did not extend so far as those of the
modern author who has just been cited. In any case,
however, it was clearly shown how anxious the celebrant
was to avoid profaning the sacred Being by any defiling
contact. The priest must wash his hands 40 immediately
before the ceremony, and he washed them again before
the consecration. It is thus in cleanliness that we find
the origin of that moment in the Mass, which has been
explained by mediaeval authors as a commemoration of
the washing of Pilate's hands. For this ablution there
was naturally need of a special apparatus. Some cans,
so-called aquamanilia, which were usually wrought in
fantastic forms of lions, dragons, or griffins, belonged to
the altar fittings from the beginning of the fifth century, 41
and the toilet was soon completed by a basin.
In many cases the little washing basin is to be
found close by the altar, but in others, perhaps from
want of space, it has been set up in the sacristy. In the
older churches it is usually possible to observe that the
washstand, or, tc use the ecclesiastical expression, the
piscina, has been fitted into the wall after the erection
of the church ; but during the Gothic period it seems
vi THE HOLY OF HOLIES 103
that a definite place in the wall was reserved for the
washstand in the plans themselves. It is further worth
noting that we often find in these washstands two
basins beside or opposite one another. Such an
arrangement is not due, as an outsider might easily
imagine, to any striving after symmetry, but once more
affords an expression of the believer's solicitous regard
for the sanctity of the Sacrament. The one basin was
necessary, he told himself, that the priest might,
before he proceeded to his great office, be able to wash
his hands, which were to touch the holy Being "Non
licet impura tangere sancta manu " but the other basin
was no less necessary for the ablutions that took place
after the Mass had been celebrated.
To understand why this later ablution was indis-
pensable, we must give an account of a side of the
Church's care for the Eucharist that has hitherto been
ignored. However carefully the priests handle the Sacra-
ment during the celebration itself, yet there always
remained a possibility that portions of the Holy of
holies might afterwards be spilt or defiled. It was in
order to provide against such an eventuality that severe
penalties were enacted against communicants who from
carelessness let the Host fall to the ground, or expec-
torated it, or spilt any drops of the wine. 42 In some
places this fear of spilling the Sacrament led to the
communicants being made to suck up the wine through
small pipes, in order that no drops of the precious
substance should adhere to men's moustaches. 43 Thus
if the Catholic Church had retained the distribution
of the Sacrament in both its forms, it would perhaps
have unconsciously provided against all the hygienic
risks involved by the use of the common chalice.
As is known, however, the Roman ritual was not
104 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP.
content with prescribing tubes, but entirely deprived
the laity of the wine ; and it is thought by many
authors that even this refusal of the chalice, so
momentous for the Church's history, had its origin in
an extreme care for the " sacra species/' M There was
no security, it was said, that the communicants would
receive the divine blood with sufficient earnestness.
That such an anxiety troubled the minds of the
pious appears by analogy from the rules for the
reception of the bread and wine implanted in the
minds of priests. 45 " After the celebrant has taken in
the sacrifice," says Durandus, " he must not allow him-
self to cough or spit Neither must he eat the Host as
men do other food, but he should hold it in his mouth
with discretion, modesty, and caution, using his front
teeth and moistening it with his tongue, so that no
crumb can fix itself in the cavities of his teeth." 46
On similar grounds it was naturally feared that
fragments of the wafer might stick to the priest's
fingers after consecration. The old books of ritual
prescribed, therefore, that the celebrant, after breaking
the Host, should keep his thumb and forefinger closed, so
that no crumbs could fall from his hand, and that later
he should rub these fingers together over the chalice, so
that the small particles might drop into the holy vessel. 47
Such a precaution was necessary, but there could be
no certainty that it was perfectly effective. There
always remained a possibility that the priest might
carry parts of the Supreme Being away with him from
the altar. The care for the Sacrament could not there-
fore cease with the close of the ceremony. In general,
indeed, conscientiousness did not attain to the degree
displayed by the pious Herman Joseph, who reverently
preserved the clippings of his own nails and the beard
TI THE HOLY OF 105
shaved from his face because during Mass these tad
touched the incarnate God. 48 But at any rate it was
seen to that the fragments of bread and the drops of
wine, which, in spite of all precautions, might remain on
the hands of the celebrant, should not be exposed to pro-
fanation. Consequently, to return to our subject, it was
necessary to undertake ablutions after the ceremony ;
and further, as we can now understand, it was impos-
sible to perform these ablutions at the same basin that
had been used before the Mass. It could not be allowed
that even the minutest part of the Eucharist should
alight in a vessel which had been used for a previous
purification. Each washstand, therefore, had its definite
purpose to fulfil : in the one impurity was removed, in
the other that was washed off which was purer than all
earthly substances. It was, of course, only over the
latter basin that the chalices and patens were rinsed
after Mass. 49
It may, however, be asked how the faithful could
show their reverence for those parts of the bread and
wine that chanced to remain in the basin together with
the water. A basin that received and held so sacred a
content naturally could not be emptied in the same way
as other basins. This problem of how to get rid of the
washing water in a worthy fashion must, indeed, have
been one of the most difficult problems mediaeval
ritualists had to solve; but here, too, they managed
without failing in the respect due to the Holy of
holies. Thus, during the later Middle Ages, pipes
were laid from the washstand, carrying the water either
directly to the earth or by means of a spout into the
churchyard outside. In either case, there was an
assurance that not a drop of wine nor a crumb of bread
arrived anywhere save on consecrated ground; and
106 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP.
religious imagination, which loved, in thought, to follow
the holy substances as far as possible, could even find a
deep and significant meaning in the fact that the pipe
debouched into a graveyard. " This sacred water/ 3 says
a modern Catholic writer, "that perhaps carried with it
crumbs of the Host or drops of the consecrated wine
for it had washed the priest's hands after Mass > and
cleansed the chalice which had received the divine
blood and the cloths on which the Host had rested
this water trickled out over the bones of the dead to
give life to them, in the same way that the Saviour's
blood, falling from the Cross at Golgotha, according to
the legend, gave life to Adam's bones buried beneath/' 50
The modern Church does not think it necessary to
provide special basins for washing after Mass, but it
does not by any means allow the holy remains to be
thrown out upon unconsecrated ground. It gets rid of
them in a manner that is certainly reverential if not
altogether agreeable to our feelings. After the priest
has performed the ceremony, he cleanses the chalice
with wine and washes his fingers over it with a mixture
of wine and water. Afterwards, he does not pour out
this rinsing water, but we are sorry to say it he
drinks it up, out of sheer respect for the holy substance,
which must not be wasted. 51
It cannot be concealed that the majority of the facts
brought forward in this chapter are extremely ordinary
and uninteresting. Considered by themselves alone,
they cannot be referred to the sphere of religious art,
but they may, none the less, be of use in interpreting
and estimating that art. They teach us to understand
something of the piety and reverence expressed in the
religious poems, paintings, and decorations of the Middle
TI THE HOLY OF HOLIES 107
Ages. They render it intelligible why even the
apparently most insignificant ritual implements were
manufactured with an exact care, and embellished
with a loving zeal, which in many cases transformed
pieces of furniture into works of art. It is said that in
some old French churches even the liturgical lavabos
were " incensed/' i.e. the censers were swung over the
washstands to purify them and to render them homage. 52
How far this custom has been generally prevalent need
not be discussed here. It is at any rate certain that
the decorative embellishment the incense of religious
art, as the Church symbolists would say has been
disseminated most lavishly over articles of furniture
which to a layman are banal and commonplace. In
French churches of the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries numerous examples are met with of wash-
stands of varying forms, and of a perpetually changing
rich and graceful ornamentation. It is, says Viollet
le Due, extremely seldom that one washstand takes
its architecture or decoration from another. By
studying these church accessories, he continues, an idea
may be gained of the limitless power of invention
among the Gothic architects ; and merely by the aid
of pictures of liturgical washstands one could com-
pile an entire illustrated work, giving examples of
an infinity of different ways of treating one and the
same subject. 53
Beginning with the Eenaissance, there was a general
diminution, among both priests and artists, of that
respect and reverence with which men of the Middle
Ages had approached the holy objects. At the same
time the symbolical point of view decreased in
importance. After the priests had begun to drink up
the rinsing water, there was no longer any need of such
108 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
ingenious and peculiar contrivances as the Gothic wash-
stands ; but the thing itself, the liturgical washstand,
is still met with in the Renaissance churches, and in
Italian art the washing-table has received a form and
embellishment that make it a fit subject for attention
in the history of culture. It is especially the Tuscan
majolica technique that was used for this half-practical,
half-religious purpose. Thus the little church of San
Niccolo da Tolentino at Prato possesses a gracefully
composed lavabo, executed by an unknown artist of
the school of della Robbia. The sacristy of Santa
Maria Novella of Florence has been adorned by Giovanni
della Robbia with a still more notable washstand : a
little monument in marble and majolica, which repre-
sents the highest expression that could ever be desired
for so prosaic an idea. 64
By an ingenious use of the narrow space the
sculptor has here succeeded in fitting his washstand into
a niche, which is surrounded and covered by tiles, and
which is separated from the partially panelled and
frescoed walls by two pilasters and a rounded gable,
these also being constructed of glazed bricks. The
little edifice is just large enough for two monks to
cleanse the holy implements over the sink at the same
time. The practical requirements have been completely
satisfied in the size and proportion of the washstand,
not to mention in its material, which so effectually
protects floor and walls from being affected by damp.
But Giovanni della Robbia further understood that,
besides its practical purpose, his washstand was to serve
a religious end; therefore the pilasters and arch are
surrounded by rich garlands of shining majolica, like
a tabernacle hung with wreaths. Small angel -putti
support the heavy ends of the pendent festoons, and in
vi THE HOLY OF 109
the round archway over the cistern the Madonna and
Child are enthroned. Every little surface is adorned
with pictures or ornaments, and the decoration Is car-
ried out with the pious care exercised in the manu-
facture of a sacrificial present. Thus the liturgical
washstand becomes an ideal type of its kind, worthy
of being placed beside the other church objects, all of
which, owing to the influence of their religious pur-
pose, have received a nobler form and a richer
embellishment than any profane furniture and im-
plements.
The examination of the sacred utensils at the altar-
table ought, unless this inquiry has entirely failed in
its aim, to give a certain insight into the state of mind
in which pious people approached the Sacrament, i.e.
the piece of bread and the drops of wine in which they
think they see the Supreme Good. The idea that the
Divinity allows Himself to be appropriated and absorbed
through eating and drinking has given rise to a pious
etiquette the word is used here in its highest and
most serious meaning which has changed the earthly
meal into a ritual action and transformed the table into
a sacred and revered place. Purity, in its physical sense,
has been developed into a " religious kathartic," which
in its refinement even anticipates some of the prophy-
lactic precautions of modern hygiene. For the Catholic
this outer purity is only a symbol of the spiritual
state of mind. We can be sure that the devout com-
municants in the Codex Eossanensis, for example, who in
white garments and with humble reverences receive the
Host in their outstretched hands, sought also to make
their being worthy as the old ritualists express it to
serve as a dwelling-place for the eucharistie God. The
fear of wasting or profaning the highest Substance has
110 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP. vi
lent reverence, veneration, and earnestness to all the
attitudes of the body and the soul; and thus the
ritual ceremony has acted as a school in respect, and
served as a worthy pattern for the forms and move-
ments, of profane life.
CHAPTER VII
THE HOST
Conld lie Ms Godhead veil with flesh and Hood,
And not veil these again to be our food ?
His grace in both is equal in extent,
The first affords us life, the second nourishment.
DRYBEN, The Hind, and the Panther.
IT is time, now that the precautions for the protection
of the Holy of holies have been treated of, to give an
account of the ideas of the faithful about the altar
miracle itself. From the Mass - implements we must
pass to the things which constitute the central point
of the ceremony. In doing so, it is most natural to
consider especially the wafer and its transformation.
In the dogmatic conception, indeed, each of the two
elements has an equal importance for the Sacramental
action. The Supreme Being is not less present in that
which has the appearance of red wine than in that
which looks like bread. 1 But the wine which is hidden
in the chalice cannot make nearly so powerful an
impression on the sensuous vision as that eucharistie
Divinity which is handled in the sight of all at the
altar. The Host, i.e. the consecrated wafer, is a thing,
with its. own distinct form, to which the eyes can be
fastened and which can be preserved in the memory.
It can be seen from a long distance when, raised over
the priest's head, it shines through the church like a
111
112 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
fascinating little circle of white light. It is only under
the covering of the wafer that the laity, on great festivals
or at the last Mass, partake of the Supreme Being, and
it is the bread more than the wine that to the faithful
represents or rather constitutes the Sacrament. Thus
if we point out, once for all, that a good part of what
is said as to the reverence for the wafer may be applied
to the wine and the chalice, we are entitled to limit
our observation to the first of the two forms of the
Divinity's revelation in the Eucharist.
So great was pious respect for the Sacrament in the
Middle Ages that something holy was seen even in the
earthly material that was to afford a place for the
Divinity, and it was required that this material should
be as clean and perfect as possible. Just as the wine
could only be of the best quality and might under no
pretext be replaced by a substitute, 2 so the wafer too must
be better than any other bread. 3 During the twelfth
century the preparation of wafers was regarded quite
as a religious celebration. The ceremonies undertaken,
for example, in the monastery of Cluny in the manu-
facture of holy bread were very extensive. The
grains of corn were selected with care, were thoroughly
washed, and were dried on a delicate white cloth. The
monk who carried the wheat to the mill clad himself in
alba and amice, that he might worthily perform the
precious transport. He even washed the stones that were
to grind the grain to meal. When the actual baking
began, the monks prepared for their task by reciting
hymns of praise, penitential psalms, and litanies. They
put shoes on their feet, that they might not come into
contact with the dirt on the floor. They washed their
faces and hands and carefully combed their hair. Clad
in Mass-shirts, they kneaded the dough and shaped the
YH THE HOST 113
bread during an unbroken silence. Even the fire over
which the bread was baked was as clean as possible, for
it was fed with dry pieces of a special kind of wood. 4
With such a devout respect and such an anxious
solicitude was the holy labour undertaken at the time
when the making of wafers lay in the hands of the
monks. As early as the fourteenth century, however,
it became more and more common to entrust pro-
fessional bakers with the sacred duty. The memory
of the Church industry was preserved only by some
ancient ordinances, and by the very rare baking appli-
ances which are to be met with in museums and the
store-rooms of monasteries. 5 The most interesting of
these appliances are some small wafer-moulds, which were
sent by S. Francis the Host's most devout worshipper
through the brothers of his community, to all the
Franciscan provinces in order " that by their use, fine
and clean Mass-bread might be made." 6
After the wafers had been made, they were rever-
ently preserved for the occasion when they would be
transformed into Hosts. When it was a question of
procuring the supply needful for the communion of the
laity, the theurgical operation took place as a private
celebration. But even if the priest was without wit-
nesses, he knew how solemn his action was when, by
pronouncing the words of consecration, which have so
powerful a meaning for all believers, he effected the
great miracle. Still more holy, however, was the trans-
formation, when the officiant in the presence of the con-
gregation consecrated the Host, which he himself would
consume. On these occasions the mystical impression
was further increased by some theatrical arrangements
which visualised for those present the miracle of tran-
substantiation.
114 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
Especially during the earlier Middle Ages there
was a tendency to make the ceremony effective even to
the senses of the spectators. As already mentioned,
draperies were often spread between the columns of the
"ciborium," which hid the altar and the priest during
the actual work of consecration. Thus, when the
curtains were drawn aside, the faithful could see the
transformed material, without having witnessed the act
itself by which the transformation had been effected. 7
Not only was the celebration performed therefore in
a veritable magic cabinet ; this cabinet was besides often
provided with an effective theatrical machinery. Thus
in the old " ciboria " were hung up not ouly relics and
crowns, but also the shrine which guarded the Church's
supply of consecrated Hosts. In some cases, the chain
by which the shrine was fastened to the roof was made
to run over a pulley, so that the Host-receptacle was
able during the ceremony to sink down towards the altar,
and to ascend again thereafter towards the vault of the
" eiborium," which by reason of a spontaneous symboli-
sation was taken to represent the vault of heaven. 8
Such an arrangement visualised quite perfectly the
thought of the Divinity Himself, who at the moment of
the miracle was descending over the Mass-table ; and the
religiously poetic impression was further intensified by
the form given to the so-called "suspensorium." For
this shrine, which rose and sunk above the altar, was no
ordinary box, but had the shape of a bird : a little dove
wrought in gold, silver, or enamelled copper, guarding
in its body the holy bread. 9
It is not difficult to explain why the form of a
dove was given to the vessel of the Host. The dove is
a symbol of the Holy Ghost; and just as the Holy
Grhost assisted at the incarnation by which the Saviour
115
clothed Himself in human flesh, so it was thought that
the third person of the Trinity would now also effect the
transformation of an earthly bread made by men into
the Saviour's body. It is worth remarking that in the
old liturgies the " Sancte Spiritus" was specially invoked
in order that the miracle of the Mass might take place
through His assistance. 10 Here, as in so many dogmatic
ideas and artistic representations, the Holy Ghost was
regarded as a mediator between heaven and earth. It
was a dove which descended over the Saviour's head at
His baptism, and it was in the shape of a dove that the
souls of the righteous, at the moment of death, ascended
to their heavenly dwellings.
After the disappearance of the "ciboria" the use of
hanging and movable Host-boxes was not discontinued.
The pulley over which the chain ran was fixed to a
crozier which was erected immediately behind the altar,
and the dove was now placed in a small cylindrical
receptacle, the open front of which was furnished with
movable curtains. In a number of French churches,
this ingenious apparatus was still in use in the eighteenth
century/ 1 Again, when ancient Church customs began
to be revived during the last century, Mass suspenders
were in many cases introduced, Thus in some English
ritualistic churches, a cylindrical box hangs above the
altar, 12 and in the famous Benedictine monastery at
Solesmes the dove has taken its old place among
the holy vessels. 18 These, however, are only isolated
survivals of an order of things long since dead, and
long before the eucharistic doves had fallen out of
use the holy place had ceased to be hidden by
curtains. At the time when the doctrine of Tran-
substantiation received its final shape, i.e. daring the
thirteenth century, it was no longer thought necessary
116 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
to maintain the secrecy in which the miracle had been
shrouded,
As may be seen from old pictures, the altar was
indeed frequently enclosed on three sides by screens ; 14
but as it was open in front, the screens could not
serve to hide the miracle from the congregation. Their
purpose was probably to secure a needful isolation in
which the priest could perform his high office with a
quiet, earnest, and collected mind. 15 From the part of
the church occupied by the congregation one could,
during the moment of consecration, see the celebrant's
gestures and hear his words, which in themselves were
not more notable than other gestures and words ; but
one would know that when certain words had been
spoken and certain definite gestures made, the great
event had been consummated, although everything
remained externally the same. 16 Thus it was demanded
of the pious that they should readily believe in the
miracle, although it was not confirmed in any way by
the testimony of the senses. The sacramental transfor-
mation was, as was repeated time after time in explana-
tions of the Mass and in Mass-hymns, a miracle, only
visible to the eye of faith :
Quod non capis, quod non vides
Aniniosa firmat fides
Praeter rerum ordinem ;
or to quote another poem :
. . . et si sensus deficit
Ad firmandum cor sracerom sola fides sufficit.
Praestat fides supplementum sensuum defectui. 17
However, if the Mass -action had been completely
denuded of all sensuous elements, it would have been too
difficult a task for the imagination of the faithful to
vn THE HOST 117
conceive a transformation that was not indicated by a
single outer sign. The curtains of the altar-place, the
drawing aside of which told that the ritual had reached
its culmination, might be dispensed with, and the little
dove that descended from above, when the miracle was
completed, might be abolished. But in any case there
was needed some signal, however unobtrusive, by which
the attention of the spectators might be directed to the
altar at the critical moment. Such a cue is given by
the ringing of the small silver bells, which the deacon
sets in motion at the precise moment when the bread
and wine are transformed and the eucharistic God is
raised above the Mass-table in the priest's hands for his
renewed sacrifice. 18 This clear sound, the pure tones of
which carry throughout the greatest cathedrals, is by
reason of its symbolical meaning the most significant
of all the impressions that Church music can convey to a
believer's mind. It prepares the congregation for a
vision of lofty things, and awakes a reverence for the
Host and the chalice. The community falls on its knees,
while the celebrant rises to show forth the God that
is present. " Standing as upright as he can, he raises
the Host, with his eyes fixed on it, and reverently
exhibits it for the people's worship." 19
It has been mentioned earlier that this elevation,
with the accompanying bell-ringing, was explained
by the mediaeval ritualists as a dramatic commemora-
tion of the Saviour's death on the Cross ; but it was
pointed out at the same time that such an interpreta-
tion, like so many of the symbolical Mass-commentaries,
only arose after the ritual had received its definite
form. If we wish to seek for the very origin of the
ritual sound-signal, we ought, perhaps, to go back to the
bells on the robe of the Jewish high-priest, which rang
118 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
when he entered the Holy of holies. 20 It would probably
be a fruitless toil to try to determine at what time the
Catholic Church, in accordance with this Jewish custom,
first made use of bell-ringing at the Mass-ceremony,
but it has at any rate been thought possible to fix
the period during which this custom became general.
There was, indeed, a time when it was particularly
important to -represent externally also the miracle in
the Altar Sacrament.
In the early part of the eleventh century a French
priest, Berengarius of Tours, published some blasphemous
propositions which he was afterwards compelled to re-
cant asserting that the bread did not undergo any
actual transformation, but only symbolised the presence
of God. Such a heresy forced the Church to energetic
protests, and it was, say some authors, expressly to
give the lie to Berengarius's doctrine that the Sacrament
began to be raised above the altar, and the congregation
to be summoned by bell-ringing to worship the Divinity
present. At first, significantly enough, it was only the
Host that was thus ec elevated," but later from the
early fourteenth century it became customary to ex-
hibit also the chalice during the bell-ringing. 21 It was
thus, so it is said, that the Mass-ceremony adopted the
two successive sound - signals, in which the symbol-
seeking ritualists had seen a commemorative representa-
tion of the trumpet blast of the Roman legionaries and
the great earthquake at the Saviour's death. Accord-
ing to the later and more probable interpretation, the
bell-ringing and elevation served as a weapon against
the doubts of unbelievers, and as a support for the faith
of the faint-hearted.
It may, however, be objected that the exhibition
of a wafer which according to the dogmas had not
TO THE HOST 119
undergone the least alteration In its outer parts, could
hardly strengthen any one's belief in the great miracle.
Such an objection, however, overlooks the suggestive
Influences exercised by the ceremony on the minds of
the faithful. The certainty that at a given moment a
sign of God's presence would be conveyed quickened to
the uttermost the expectant attention. People waited,
often indeed impatiently, for the long introductory
ritual to finish ; they were put into a mood of reverence
by the solemn silence which precedes the consecration,
when the priest sinks his voice, "out of respect for
those miracles that are prepared " n ; and when finally
the silence was broken by the clear tones of the bells, they
were convinced that the miracle had taken place. The
faithful thought they perceived that a change had
actually occurred. Even if the earthly element retained
its appearance, yet they knew that its essence had been
transformed, and that the Supreme Being had descended
over the altar. It was as if they found themselves face
to face with God, who had clad Himself in the white
garment of the Host. 23 Henry III. of England gave an
ingenious expression to this idea, when in the presence
of S. Louis he excused his disinclination to listen to
long prayers. " If one has a dear friend/ 7 said he, " one
prefers to see him oneself, rather than to hear others
talk about him." 24 To see God, when He is lifted
above the altar, became indeed the foremost of the aims
with which men visited churches, and the viewing of
the Sacrament was regarded as a special form of devo-
tion which could in itself render valuable a man's
presence at service.
When attention was concentrated on the moment of
the elevation thus carefully led up to, it was inevitable
that in many cases the religious imagination should
120 THE SAOEEB SHEINE CHAP.
complete the impression of the senses. The pious saw
even more than, according to theology, they had a
right to see. It seemed to them as if the bell-ringing
were not the only sign of the miracle, but as if the
Supreme Being Himself revealed by some secret token
that the wafer was no longer an ordinary bread.
The intensified play of imagination and the religious
hallucinations to which the ritual gave rise thus produced
many peculiar legends in regard to the Host's relation-
ship to its pious worshippers.
It was natural that the saints were considered, above
all other men, to possess a keen faculty of recognising
the hidden God in the Sacrament. The senses of those
who lived in communion with the Highest naturally
grasped the slightest indications of His presence. Dis-
tance did not avail to weaken those impressions, which by
reason of their "psychical relation" were so much stronger
than others. Just as a mother often sleeps soundly in
noisy surroundings but is awakened by the least sound
of her child, so the saints perceived every sign, however
weak and remote, that summoned them to worship
their G-od. When S. Francesco Borgia still lived "in
the world " as a warrior, a courtier, and a diplomat
it often happened, says a pious author, that he suddenly
broke up a hunting party and turned his horse's head
towards the nearest church, that he might there kneel
before the Host; for over the fields and through the
forests he had heard the little silver bell which told
that God had descended over an altar. 25 It could also
happen to the same S. Francesco to be irresistibly
drawn, on entering a church, to the Holy Sacrament,
although the Host and the wine were not at that
moment in their usual place. 26
TO THE HOST 121
Such cases of what might be called eucharistic
telepathy are by no means rare In the literature of the
saints. 27 The affection with which the Host was regarded
by the faithful laid the foundation for a sympathetic
" rapport " which has been depicted in many naive stories.
In their power of perceiving the presence of the Sacra-
ment some saints have surpassed even S. Francesco.
Pascal Baylon, who was also a Spaniard, takes the fore-
most place in this respect. It is said that while he
was lying dead in the church, his eyes opened at the
moment of consecration, in order to take a final gaze at
the object of his lasting veneration; and after his
sacred bones had been placed in the church, a noise and
a clatter could be heard from within the relic shrine
every time the Host was raised above the altar, as if
the bones had knocked against the walls of the chest. 28
Less wonderful, but in any case remarkable enough, is
the case of Sainte Colette, who was informed of
the consummation of the Sacrament by a kind of
spiritual perception, and who was thus able one day to
call the Mass priest's attention to the fact that the
deacon had by mistake filled the chalice with water
instead of wine. 29 Again, Ursula Benincasa, S. Filippo
Neri, Sant' Angela de Foligno, and Santa Margherita
de Gortona could recognise a special taste in the wafer
after it had been consecrated. 80
All these narratives are, it seems, based on the idea
that there was in the Host something hidden from
ordinary men, but mystically revealed to the saints. 81
If they happened to be acquainted with modern
psychology, believing Catholics could cite in support
of their legends the examples of abnormal quickening
of the senses which have been noted in the case of " sub-
conscious " observation ; and they could find a further
122 THE SACEEB SHRINE CHAP.
correspondence with the facts of psychology in the
curious circumstance that, while the qualities of the
Host are imperceptible to normal human senses, they are
said to have been often grasped by lower creatures. In
the same way that animals have sight, sound, and scent,
which are receptive of impressions experienced by
mankind only under exceptional conditions such, for
example, as the hypnotic sleep, so according to Catholic
belief soulless creatures could perceive religious mys-
teries, which it was reserved to some saints to grasp
with their senses as well as with their thought.
In a number of cases it seems to have been some
specially favourable circumstances that led to the
animals being able to appreciate the sacredness of the
Host. Thus it was due to the influence of the church
milieu, in which the lamb belonging to the monastery
of the Portiuncula at Assisi grew up, that the pious
creature betook itself to the choir whenever it heard
the brothers singing, and reverently fell upon its knees
when the Sacrament was lifted above the altar. 32 The
legends referring to the bees' devout care for the Holy
of holies may be explained in a similar way. It often
happened, it was said, that bee-keepers, on the advice
of magicians, placed a Host in the bee-hive in order
thereby to promote its increase. In these cases it was
observed later that the creatures had built an altar of
wax, or even a little chapel, to protect God's body. 33 The
pure insects, whose wax was thought the worthiest
material for the altar candles, clearly stood in some
kind of sympathetic " rapport " with the Sacrament, and
it was therefore not so extraordinary that they should be
able to recognise the Supreme Being in the garb of the
Host. A relationship of this kind cannot be assumed,
however, in the case of such worldly animals as horses
VH HOST 123
and mules. It must therefore, according to Catholic
opinion, have been a subconscious perception that
induced William of Aquitaiae's horse to bend its fore-
legs and throw its rider, because Bernard of Clairvaux
had taken a Host with him when he went to meet his
enemy. 34
The same conception prevails in the legend, so
frequently illustrated, of S. Anthony and the mule.
A heretic, the story runs, had refused to recognise
the Catholic doctrine of Transubstantiation, because he
could not observe any alteration in the bread and wine
after the consecration. He declared himself willing,
however, to believe in the Mass-miracle if Anthony
could make his mule show reverence to the Sacrament,
and Anthony, on his side, undertook to produce the
convincing evidence. The animal was left without food
for three days, and on the fourth was led in the pre-
sence of a great crowd to S. Anthony, who kept a con-
secrated wafer in his hand, while a man at his side held
out a basket fall of oats. " But lo ! the mule turned
away from the proffered food, and bowing his fore-
quarters knelt before the Host." ** One can understand
that the old sacred writers intended with this legend to
level a reproach against men's lack of faith, by contrast-
ing the doubt of the over-wise heretic with the animal's
blind and humble worship. The mule here plays the
same r6le as the ox and the ass at Bethlehem, which
also knew what mankind did not understand that the
new-born Child was a God. " Cognovit bos et asinus . . .
quod puer erat dominus." But, on the other hand, it is
clear that this polemic poem-with-a-purpose if there is
any rational idea in the story at all must be based
upon conceptions of some qualities of the Host hidden to
human sense, which were grasped by the animal much
124 THE SACBED SHBINE CHAP.
in the same way that S. Filippo Neri could recognise
a consecrated wafer by its taste.
In the Church's doctrine of the Mass-miracle, how-
ever, there is no support at all for such a conception.
When Thomas Aquinas, by direction of the highest
authorities, carried out his great and lastingly-binding
work on the Transubstantiation, he laid special weight
on the assertion that the miraculous transformation was
in no way perceptible to the senses. The Eucharist
could not be grasped either by sight or taste, and no
increase of his power of observation could enable even
the holiest man to see the Being who concealed himself
behind the appearance of earthly materials. It seems
as if this unequivocal, categorically-formulated theory
could not easily be brought into harmony with the idea
that the Host reveals by means of some outer sign the
fact that it is no ordinary bread. Indeed, it cannot be
denied that there is something heretical in most of the
popular stories as to the relation of the saints to the
Sacrament. From the aesthetic and psychological point
of view, however, it is just these heterodox legends that
are of quite especial interest. They prove not only how
vividly the thoughts of both priests and laity were
occupied with the Mass -miracle, but they also show
how popular imagination for it is in popular imagina-
tion that the legends originate revolted against a dogma
which laid too great a claim upon the force of belief
and the faculty of abstraction. It seemed hard for the
pious, so one is inclined to think, that they should only
believe and know that God concealed Himself behind
the earthly materials, but that they should never see
even a glimmer of this God. Therefore little anecdotes
were evolved about some specially favoured persons
who descried in the Eucharist a glimpse of the divine
vn HOST 125
substance. And therefore, also, people were not content
as had been the case in the legends hitherto men-
tioned to tell of saints who by a dim feeling had a
presentiment of the presence of the Supreme Being.
They wished, further, to believe that God Himself had
on various occasions broken through His covering, to
step forth from the Host in bodily shape.
The Church authorities overlooked what was in-
correct in these narratives, which were so well adapted
for use in controversies with doubters and heretics ; but
though they were tolerated, they were not allowed to
influence true doctrine. Thomas Aquinas himself, who
was not a man to depart from his principles, has expressly
stated that revelations of this kind should be considered
either as subjective visions vouchsafed to individual
believers, independently of the Communion miracle, or
as due to the fact that " God was pleased to alter the
appearance of the Host for some definite purpose." In
neither case was the miracle more wonderful or holy
than the Sacrament itself. Sensuous manifestations
therefore, say the dogmatists, must not be worshipped
with greater devotion than the Host, the seeming bread
which in reality is a God. 36
In spite of these warnings, however, the extra-
ordinary revelations have made a far more powerful
impression upon the great public than has the daily-
repeated Mass - miracle, imperceptible to the senses.
The Host-miracles, as will shortly appear, have con-
tributed more than anything else to causing the Sacra-
ment to become the object of a special cult. These
miracles thus lie directly at the root of the notable art-
production which concentrates itself round the trans-
formed wafer. Therefore it is also necessary to give
a short account of the most important of those legends,
126 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
which relate how God revealed Himself In the Host in
bodily shape.
The sceptical critic finds least to object to in the
stories of the visions seen by pious men during the
moments when they stood in the presence of the euchar-
istic God. We can well believe that S. Birgitta gave
a veracious account of her own mental experiences, when
she tells how one Whit Sunday, when God's body was
raised, " she saw fire come down from heaven over the
altar and saw a living man, with blazing human counte-
nance in the bread " ; or how on another occasion she saw
in the priest's hand "a young man, exceedingly fair,
who pronounced blessings over all those who believed
and judgment over the unbelieving." 87 It is also prob-
able that many of the newly-converted barbarians, who
had been informed by the missionaries that the Sacra-
ment was the holiest object in the Christian religion, by
force of suggestion saw a child or a crucified man on
the altar. S. Patrick, for example, expressly referred
to the Host, when the Irish requested to see the God
whose power and gentleness he had so eloquently
described to them. 38 When we take into account primi-
tive man's inability to distinguish between the pictures
of his imagination and the impressions of reality, we can
understand that excited converts often thought they
beheld with their bodily eyes what, according to erudite
theology, they ought to have embraced only with their
thoughts. 39
In those cases, however, where the consecrated wafer
adopted human form in the presence of heathens or
heretics, the cause of the miracle cannot be sought in
subjective visions. Those who will not admit that the
legends have simply been invented would, therefore, do
best to adopt Thomas Aquinas's second explanation, i.e.
vii HOST 127
" that God was pleased specially to alter the appearance
of the Host/' It is also significant that most of these
miracles took place on the very occasions when, "for
some definite purpose," it was convenient to consent to
a deviation from the normal course. Typical in this
respect is the story of the Catholic priest who had been
taken prisoner by the Saracens. The heathen warriors
scoffed at his Christian religion, and finally went so far
in their defiance as to promise him his freedom if he
could prove the Mass-miracle. The priest called them
together to a service, and when he was about to raise
the Host above his head, it was no longer a wafer that
he held in his hand, but a little naked child with a glory
around its head and a cross in its hand. A fresco in the
cathedral of Orvieto commemorates his remarkable
deliverance. 40
If such a miracle could take place in order that a
single man might be freed from captivity, the anthropo-
morphic Mass-revelations were, of course, all the more
natural when it was a case of winning adherents to the
Christian faith. People who as yet knew nothing of
"substance*' and "accidents" were seized with veneration
if they saw the new God in visible form. Thus the first
successes of the Northern Missions, according to Catholic
historians, depended in no small degree upon the
astounding impressions received by the Swedish heathens
from S. Sigfrid's altar service. One has only to
read the account given by the bailiff of Olof Skot-
konung to his master, after he had visited the holy men
in Sm&land : " Then the man with the wonderful dress
took the thin bread, and after mumbling something over
it, he lifted it up, and it seemed to me just as if he
lifted up at the same time a little lad who smiled at the
old man." 41
128 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
Such miracles happened when heathens were to be
converted, and from similar stories arguments were
drawn against doubters within the Church. Typical of
these stories is the legend of the so-called Gregorian
Mass. This miracle, so often illustrated in pictorial art,
is described in a number of different legends which dis-
agree in essential points. It is most convenient first to
quote that form which is found in the oldest versions of
the story :
"A woman, who occasionally, following the [old]
Christian custom, made an offering of [Mass-] bread to
the Church, smiled one day when she heard S. Gregory "
it is Pope Gregory the Great who is referred to
" call out before the altar : ' May the body of our Lord
Jesus preserve thy soul to eternal life/ At once
Gregory drew away the hand with which he was about
to give the Host to the woman and laid the holy bread
back on the table. Then in the presence of the whole
congregation he asked what she had dared to laugh at.
And the woman answered, ' I smiled because you gave
the name God's body to bread which I had myself baked
with my own hands/ Then Gregory fell upon his
knees and prayed to God for this woman's unbelief.
And when he arose, he saw that the Host on the altar
had been transformed into flesh which had the form of
a finger. He showed this finger to the unbelieving
woman, who immediately lost her doubts. And the
saint prayed anew and the flesh took on anew the shape
of bread, and Gregory communicated the woman with
the bread." 42
That the Host was transformed into a finger seems,
however, according to the Catholic idea, not to have
been a sufficiently wonderful miracle. In a later varia-
tion of the legend, which was often narrated in prayer-
VH THE HOST 129
books of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, there did
not appear a finger In place of the wafer, but Christ
Himself stepped down upon the altar surrounded by all
the Implements of His Passion : the pillar to which He
had been bound and the rods with which He had been
scourged, the lance with which He had been pierced and
even the hands by which He had been struck. 43 This
miracle offered a suitable motive for representation on
altar-pieces and altar furniture. At the very place
where, according to the legend, the revelation had
occurred, carvings or pictures were made of the Saviour
and of all the objects that recalled His suffering. Thus
the help of art was enlisted to strengthen all doubters
in their faith, by reminding them of the miracle that
had once occurred by reason of a holy man's prayers. 44
However much such a revelation at Mass may have
contributed to stamp upon the minds of the faithful a
conception of the miraculous element in the Sacrament,
it was hardly calculated to promote the worship of the
Host as such. 45 The divine form distracted attention
from the bread which ought in itself to be regarded as a
God. Of much greater importance for the doctrine of
the Host, therefore, are the legends in which a conse-
crated wafer reveals some signs of life, and nevertheless,
so far as the senses can observe, remains a wafer. To
begin with the least remarkable, It has frequently,
according to assertions of Catholics, spoken with a
human voice. It is, indeed, intelligible that the pious,
when they felt oppressed or troubled, might believe
they heard comforting words emanating from the bread
behind whose outer form the Supreme Being was
concealed. The legend of the Host-miracle in San
Damiano outside Assisi is the most famous example of
this kind of revelation.
130 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
When, the story runs, S. Clara's convent was
threatened by a robber band of Saracens, the saint
sought help from the eucharistic God. Sick as she was
at the time, she had herself led to the entrance, and the
nuns carried to her the little shrine of silver and ivory,
"in which, in the most holy way, God's most holy body
was concealed.' 7 As soon as this Host receptacle had
been shown to the heathen robbers, who had already
won a position upon the walls, they were stricken with
panic and broke up the siege. This event, the memory
of which is still preserved in an old fresco above the
entrance to the little convent, is not in itself more
notable than many other miracles related of the Host ;
but what is peculiar is that Clara, before the critical
moment had arrived, had already received from the
Host itself a comforting promise of i deliverance. When
the nuns had all " assembled before their God, with
tears and lamentations," the Abbess addressed the holy
shrine : " * I pray Thee/ said she, ( my dear Lord, that
Thou hide [preserve] Thy servants, whom I cannot
preserve in this peril/ And immediately there was
heard from the shrine a weak voice like a child's,
saying : c I will always hide and defend you.' And then
she said : ' my Lord, preserve also this town, if it
please Thee, which maintains us for love of Thee.' And
our Lord answered her : ' Heaviness and sorrow shall this
town endure, and yet shall it be defended by my
grace/" 46
If we wish to uphold to the uttermost the love of
truth among the authors of old legends, we might inter-
pret the answers of the Host as hallucinations on the
part of S. Clara. Such an explanation is precluded,
however, in the case of the story told of a nameless
sinner in Germany. A woman, it was said, "was
YH THE HOST 131
unclean In her body, and openly lived an evil life. One
day, as she stood in her house, God's body was carried
past, and she ran out so hurriedly that she fell into a
pool of mire up to the arms. In her distress she called
out : ( Lord, if Thou art a true God that art here
borne In the shrine, forgive me my sins/ He answered
her from the shrine in Latin, and said : * I forgive thee
thy sins/ But the woman cried out : Lord, I do not
understand Latin, answer me in German/ Then He
answered her in German that her sins should be for-
given. And the woman reformed, and lived a clean
life/' 47
If the consecrated wafer was once able to talk, it is
not surprising that It was thought to possess the power
of free movement which is characteristic of living
creatures. We are told that, at least on one occasion,
in S. Gervais in 1274, it has got out of the way of thieves
who attempted to seize the Sacrament ; and in Faverney
it avoided being destroyed by a raging conflagration
by raising itself in the air. 48 Just as it favoured its
devotees with comforting words, so it also came to meet
them, that it might be one with them at the Communion.
S. Catherine of Siena, the Saviour's promised bride, on
one occasion when she was to receive the Communion
together with some Dominican nuns, had remained by
the entrance to the church, in so inconspicuous a place
that the priest did not even notice her presence. But
at the moment when the bread was broken over the
chalice, a piece of the Host went flying through the air
and disappeared. With intelligible anxiety, the priest
searched for the fragment of wafer before covering the
chalice ; and he continued the search after Mass. All
his efforts were fruitless, however. Harassed by the
thought that he had been guilty of wasting the Holy of
132 THE SACEEB CHAP.
holies, he betook himself to S. Catherine, to ease his
heart with that pious woman. She, however, smiled at
his disquiet, and informed him that the piece of wafer
had sought her out in her remote place by the church
door. " You have lost nothing," she said, " but I have
gained much," m With this miracle in mind, we should
not be surprised that the Host at S. Hieronymus's last
Mass is said to have flown from the paten into the
saint's mouth of its own accord. 50
The power of speech and of movement, however, do
not constitute all the qualities possessed by the Host in
common with living creatures. It could suffer like a
man or rather like a god-man if it was the object of
harsh treatment, 51 and it could even bleed if wounded. 52
According to mediaeval popular belief, the Jews were
peculiarly liable to insult the Holy Sacrament. If, it
was said, they once got a Host in their hands, they
did not fail to transfix it with knives, "in the same
way that they transfixed living children at their own
Easter festivals." It frequently happened that Jews
were killed and their shops plundered merely because
some blood-stained wafers had been found near their
dwellings. In a number of cases it turned out later
that this Mass-bread had neither been consecrated nor
stolen by Jews, but that some zealous Christian had
dipped a wafer (he would not, of course, have dared to
pollute a real Host) in blood, and exposed it in a
prominent place, in order to incite to a holy war against
the hated Israelites. 53 In other cases, however, the
provocators were never disclosed, and thus legends of
Hosts that bled under the knives of Jews were accepted
among the recognised miracles of the Sacrament. 54
But the Church authorities never seem to have attached
great weight to these popular traditions, which indeed
VII 133
cannot easily be Harmonised with Tiiomas Aquinas's
doctrine of Transnbstantiation.
Quite different lias been the lot of the legend accord-
ing to which the Host bled in order to convince a
doubter of the truth of the Catholic Mass doctrine.
This miracle, which took place in 1263 at the little
village of Bolsena, near Orvieto in Umbria, is indeed
the most famous and, in respect of its consequences, the
most important of all the eucharistic miracles. A
young priest, the story goes, was much oppressed by
his inability to believe in Transubstantiation. His
doubt left Mm no peace, even while he was himself
celebrating Mass. But one day, as an express contra-
diction of all his silent objections, it happened that a
stream of blood poured out from the Host and ran over
the altar-cloth. The priest, who could not fail to be
convinced by such a token, betook himself to the Pope
to relate the miracle, the authenticity of which imme-
diately received pontifical confirmation ; and a step
was taken which was hardly permissible according
to strict Aquinian principles. The altar-cloth, spotted
with drops of blood, was regarded as a relic and became
the object of a special worship, such as had not up to
this time been dedicated either to the Host or to the
consecrated wine. The precious cloth was carried in
procession from the church at Bolsena, which was not
thought worthy to house so great a treasure, to the
cathedral at Orvieto. 55 It was there enclosed in a relic-
shrine, and to-day we may still see its little temple, the
walls of which were, at the end of the fourteenth cen-
tury, decorated by Maestro Ugolino da Siena with
quaint little pictures of the different chapters of the
legend. For the faithful this sanctuary is, without
doubt, a far more notable sight than the great chapel
134 THE SACEED CHAP.
opposite, in which, art historians and tourists interested
in worldly aesthetics admire Fra Angelico's prophets
and patriarchs, and Luca Signorelli's great frescoes on
the Last Judgment
As is well known, the miracle in Bolsena furnished
the subject for one of the great wall-paintings in the
Heliodoras chamber at the Vatican. In EaphaeFs
treatment of the motive characterised by a powerful
realism and by a masterly decorative disposition which,
for us moderns, renders the fresco the most imposing of all
his works the religious purpose has entirely given place
to purely artistic ends. The legend has merely served as
a pretext for a powerful composition, which, if we fix our
attention on its essential qualities, can in no way be re-
garded as a product of pious and specifically Church art.
In other spheres of art, however, the sign by which
the priest at Bolsena lost his doubt has been of direct
importance to aesthetic development. For the new
miracle contributed a final and conclusive reason for
the Host becoming the centre of a special ritual cele-
bration, the great festival of Corpus Christi, at which
all the resources of art were made use of to glorify the
religious mysteries to a far greater extent than at the
altar service proper. How it came to pass that some
external, and apparently quite fortuitous circumstances,
so worked together that this festival was ordained
throughout the Catholic world as a universal Church
ceremony is a long and involved story, which will be
related in detail in the next chapter. Before doing so,
however, we must shortly summarise the ideas concern-
ing the Host that have been adduced here.
Pious imagination, it seems, has associated around
the holy bread a whole system of superstitions which in
vii THE HOST 135
themselves are no less Irrational than the belief in the
power of relics. Dogmatic theology the
majesty of the eeeharistie God, had inculcated the
doctrine that the actual form of the Supreme Being in
the sacramental incarnation was imperceptible to the
senses ; but popular devotion would not be satisfied
with so metaphysical an idea, Notwithstanding the
dogmas, it repeated the legends of how the Host had
proved by different manifestations that it was a living
God. This conception, which theology was powerless
to uproot, could not be without its effect upon the
relation of the faithful to the Sacrament. If the Mass-
transformation, as explained in dogmatic literature, was
above all a " mysterium terribile/' an incomprehensible
and awful miracle, it became, as interpreted by the
legends, a mystery both joyful and rich in promise, God
came nearer to mankind if one could hear words
of encouragement from the Host, and see a little
child or a suffering fellow- creature in it. Eeverence
for the Holy of holies continued undiminished, but
with reverence was mingled tenderness and affection,
and the holy bread became in imagination a Being with
which the pious could enter into a purely personal
relationship.
The Host favoured its worshippers with revelations
and comforted them in their need. It did not, indeed,
allow itself to be used to the same extent as the relics
for miraculous cures ; 56 but it gave to the faithful at
Communion a promise of eternal life, and it strengthened
the pious by its mere presence. It turned aside dangers
from holy places, and protected the Church more power-
fully than any palladium. 57 Men did not approach the
Host as commonly as the relics with prayers for help; but
it was the Host which, in its character of a present God,
136 THE CHAR vn
received all the homage and worship of the congregation.
Devotion and love gathered round the little white object
in which the Supreme Being confined Himself in visible
form.
This circumstance gives rise to a cult of the Sacra-
ment which, in spite of many essential differences,
corresponds in its outer forms with the relic cult. As
the worship of the martyrs' remains led to the holy bones
being enclosed in costly receptacles, exhibited in churches
and carried in processions, so the worship of God's body
led to the Host being preserved with a far greater
care than was accorded to relics in special Host-hiders,
to its being exhibited in Host-showers, and to its being
carried in procession to meet its worshippers at the
festival of Christ's body. Thus we come to the shrines
which Catholic art has made and decorated for the
holiest of all conceivable contents.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MONSTBAISTCE
Yous nous parlez des dietoc ! des dietcc, des dienx encore,
Chaqne autel en porte nn, qu'un saint d^Iire adore s
Holocaust eternei que tout lien seznfole offirir.
L'Jbomine et les 16ments, pleins de ce seal mystere,
K'ont eu qn'ane pensee, une ceuvre BUT la terre :
Confesser cet tre et monrir.
LAMAETIKE, Harmtmie.
THE year 1263, as has been mentioned earlier, marked a
turning-point In the history of the Host- cult. The
miracle, through which the altar-cloth at Bolsena was
spotted with the Hood of the encharistic God, gave
rise to the institution of a universal Church festival for
the glorification of the altar-sacrament The idea of
such a festival was Indeed not unfamiliar to the age, for
both dogmas and legends had led to the Host having
become more and more the object of a formal worship ;
but the Idea would not have been allowed to realise
itself at any rate so quickly in a Church institution
unless the miracle which took place in the neighbourhood
of the Catholic capital had increased and quickened
reverence for the Sacrament. And the Corpus Christ!
ceremony would not have gained its place in the Roman
calendar so easily unless, for some decades previously,
efforts had been made to secure for the consecrated
wafer the honour of a special festival.
137
138 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
In order to give a complete account of the rise of the
great Corpus Ghrlsti festival, therefore, it is necessary to
go back a step beyond the time of the miracle at Bolsena.
Thus, at the very beginning of the thirteenth century, a
proposal for a ceremony which should be exclusively
devoted to the praise of the Host had been made by
Juliana de Mont Cornilion, a young Augustine nun from
the district of Liittich. Her idea, however, was not
realised outside her own neighbourhood, and she received
no recognition for her project, which later, after its
accomplishment by others, was to have such im-
portant results. The Church has at any rate shown
its gratitude to her memory, for she is now worshipped
as a saint, and the day of her death is commemorated
in accordance with an Edict of Pio Nono in 1869
throughout the Catholic world.
In the chapter on S. Juliana in the Calendar of the
Saints (the 5th of April), we can follow her life from
childhood to the grave. From this biography, better
than from any dogmatic investigation, we learn to
understand the feelings and thoughts with which the
pious in mediaeval times venerated the great Sacrament.
Juliana was, we are told, a saint and an ascetic from
her childhood. She early became an orphan, and was
educated by the nuns and father confessors in the
cloister of Mont Cornilion. All her teachers praised
her as an obedient and humble pupil. Only one fault
was found in her, and this had its basis in her too great
religious zeal, for she undertook, without her Superior's
permission, to attempt to imitate the great saints in all
their penances. By intelligent guidance, however, the
exalted girl was gradually wooed from her tendency to
excessive mortification. Her interest was then directed
from fasting to the great feasts.
vin THE 139
She lived entirely absorbed in the circle of festivals
which extends through the Church year, and which,
In unvarying repetition, wakes in the minds of the
faithful a rich hopefulness at Advent 3 a heavy despair
on Maun day Thursday and on Good Friday, a vernal
gladness at Easter, and an ecstatic fervour at the
summer festival of Whitsuntide. The great mysteries
of Christianity the Incarnation, the Atonement, the
Resurrection, and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit
were visualised and quickened In her mind by all the
different ceremonies of these commemorative days. It
seemed to Juliana that by the liturgical celebrations
she was year by year reminded anew of the great gifts
the Church received from its Lord yet not of all of
them. Half-unconseiously, so one is apt to Imagine,
she must have experienced a feeling that there was
something lacking in the chain of festivals; and this
feeling, the ecclesiastical authors say, expressed itself
to her for the first time In a vision, the import of which
long remained unintelligible to her.
When one day, at the age of fifteen, she was sunk
in prayer, she suddenly saw in front of her the circle
of the full moon. It shone with a clear light, but over
its gleaming surface there stretched a sharply -outlined
dark spot. As in duty bound, Juliana communicated
her vision to the Abbess, who was unable, however, to
decide on the meaning of the revelation. Only after
two years did the young nun, by means of a new vision,
obtain an explanation of the sign. She now dreamed
one night that the round moon signified the circle of
Church festivals, and that the dark spot denoted that the
circle was not complete, and that the " corona " could
not yet shine with full and perfect brightness. For the
Church had omitted to celebrate the memory of the
140 THE SACEED CHAP.
most precious of the gifts received by her : the gift of
God's presence in the consecrated wafer.
Such a sign, with all the summons and reproach
which it implied, was not easy for a young girl to
accept. What could she, an insignificant nun of
seventeen years, living in a remote cloister, do to
remedy an. omission in the festivals of the Holy Eoman
Church ? She felt so oppressed and frightened by the
mission which God had entrusted to her. His weak
servant, that this time she did not dare to mention the
revelation even to her immediate superiors. She con-
cealed it in her memory while she grew up and gradually
rose in rank in the nunnery. At the age of thirty-
three she was chosen abbess of Mont Cornillon, but not
even this dignity gave her courage to publish her secret.
Not till five years later, twenty years after she had re-
ceived her vision, did she open her heart to another nun.
The two women united their prayers for this was the
only step which for the present they dared to take
asking God that the omitted festival might be in-
stituted by the Church as soon as possible. They
strengthened one another in their hopes, and the secret
did not seem so fearful now that there were two to
share it ; and as usually happens in such cases, it was
not long before a third partook of the confidence.
This new confidante, however, who was likewise an
Augustine nun, doubted Juliana's vision. It seemed to
her that the daily Mass contained a sufficient homage
to the eucharistic God. But she was soon to be cured
of her little faith. A year later she, too, had a revela-
tion : she saw how all the saints advanced towards
God's throne to speak in favour of Juliana's festival,
and she heard a voice saying that " it should be as the
saints desired." Prom that day no more doubt reigned
viii THE 141
among the pious friends. They now ventured even to
confide In the Church authorities In the district, of
whom It Is not necessary to remember the names of
more than one^ him who then wore the name of
Jacques Pantaloon.
The authorities consulted agreed that there was
nothing In Catholic doctrine to forbid the institution of
a festival such as Juliana had dreamt of. The Abbess
received full permission to arrange a ceremonial for
the new solemnity, but when the question arose of
writing the necessary hymns and composing melodies
to them, all shrank back from the lofty task. No one
dared to aspire to the credit of singing of so holy a
mystery. Only after much persuasion did a young
priest consent to undertake the work, but he did so
on the express condition that Juliana, on her side,
should help him with her prayers from the moment he
took up his pen. When the ceremonial was finished,
neither he nor she assumed any merit for themselves,
for it had originated, as the sacred writers expressed it,
"while the virgin prayed, and the monk wrote, and
God wonderfully helped them both " " Christi virgine
orante, juvene fratre eomponente, Deo autem mirabiliter
auxiliante."
Thus, as early as 1230, there had been compiled and
celebrated at Liittich a ritual which in its aim and dog-
matic import fully corresponded to the ceremony which
was to become the stateliest and aesthetically the most
important in the whole of the liturgy of the Catholic
Church. However, before this festival of the Host,
from having been merely a local institution, received a
place among the Church's great and universal celebra-
tions, the pious Juliana herself had to suffer much
shame and persecution. The people, like the priest-
142 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
hood, took up a critical attitude towards the new cere-
mony* " It was treated," we are told in one chronicle,
< like an old woman's fancy , men discussed it over their
cups, and out in the streets and market places, and
scoffed at those who attached any weight to the dreams
of a foolish nun, Juliana's person and reputation were
torn to rags in town and country, so that she finally
became a bye-word in every one's mouth/ 7
It Is not necessary to give a detailed account of the
later fortunes of the pious nun. It is sufficient to
mention that she was expelled from her cloister, and
had long to conceal herself among some faithful
adherents ; that she was, indeed, reinstated later in her
dignities, but was driven out anew, and that she died
as a fugitive without having seen her festival recognised,
i.e. without the moon surface of her vision having had
its spot effaced. Thus it seemed for a time as if
Juliana's mission had failed to achieve any result ; l but
then there happened, far away from Mont Cornillon,
the event that was to arouse men's zeal for the worship
of the Host : the great miracle at Bolsena. With
this miracle was associated another event which, at
least to believing Catholics, seemed as though designed.
For the Pope, Urban IV., who was then reigning at
Borne and who received from the priest at Bolsena the
account of the miracle, was none other than the same
Jacques Pantaleon, to whom Juliana had thirty years
before confided her visions. The occurrence in the
Umbrian town reminded him of the promises he had
made to the Belgian abbess. So in the year 1264 he
issued a Bull, to the effect that the Corpus Christi
festival should be celebrated annually on the Thursday
after Trinity as a universal Church feast-day throughout
the Catholic world.
Tin THE 143
In Juliana's fatherland there was long retained
right up to the seventeenth century that ceremonial
which had come into existence through the combination
of the nun's prayer and the monk's writing and God's
own help. In Rome, on the contrary, there was a desire
to establish a greater and more stately office, and the
authorship was entrusted to the man who had shortly
before given its definitive form to the Communion
doctrine itself, namely, Thomas Aquinas.
The result of the great scholastic's work was a
ceremonial, which not only if we can believe the
Catholic authorities surpasses from a dogmatic and
liturgical point of view all other festival -offices, but
also possesses a unique interest in literary history.
For between the prayers and Bible extracts recited
at the Corpus Christi ceremony a number of new
hymns were introduced, written for the occasion ; and
in the task of formulating poetically the doctrine
which in his dogmatic writings he had developed
systematically, Thomas Aquinas proved not only a
philosopher but also a poet. His manner of expres-
sion, indeed, is not rich, and he does not, like so
many others of the mediaeval poets, adorn Ms text
with precious similes and ingenious epithets; but his
diction is instead powerfully concentrated, and the
spare sentences teem with meaning. If judged merely
as attempts in the expression of theoretical ideas, his
poems would compel the recognition of a purely
aesthetic merit by reason of their clear and firm form,
which makes their abstract content intelligible and
alive. To this must be added, however, the artistic
verse structure, with rich rhymes, both within the
verses and at the last syllables, which with their
regular resonance impress the weightiest conceptions
144 THE CHAP.
upon our minds ; and, finally, the rhythm In which
the hymns proceed a rhythm that is stately and
majestic in the great sequence Lauda Sion Salvatorem,
and contagiously joyful in the famous hymn Pange
lingua gloriosi corporis mysterium. Church song has
seldom taken so lofty a flight as In this stern scholastic's
glorification of the consecrated wafer.
If Thomas Aquinas's hymns were imposing, yet
poetry was not the dominating element in the ritual
of the Corpus Christ! festival. It was before all by
a theatrical representation that it was attempted to
make the Host's feast-day striking. Just as on the
saints* days their relics were carried in procession,
so also It was thought needful on the day of the
eucharistic God to exhibit the holy object out in the
streets and squares. The procession of the Host, there-
fore, became from the beginning of the fourteenth
century the most conspicuous feature in the Corpus
Christi festival. 2 It was desired not only to demon-
strate to unbelievers and doubters the greatest sacra-
ment of the Catholic Church, but simultaneously to
convince them of the Church's power and wealth. No
splendour was too costly for the decoration of the
route along which the holy bread was carried, accom-
panied by all its worshippers and greeted by the
prostrations of the faithful. It was, it has been said,
a real triumphal procession which the Church had
prepared for the eucharistic God. And just as at
worldly triumphs, so too at the festival of the Host
men desired to recall all the victories which the
Church's Lord had won. Ecdesia militans celebrated
its exploits in pantomimic and dramatic representa-
tions. A beginning was made by arranging groups
of costumed characters who walked in the procession,
Tin THE 145
representing some persons drawn from Biblical Church
history. Later it became the custom to let these
groups perform a dramatic action, and gradually there
grew out of tie interludes at the Host processions
complete dramas, which were performed on special
platforms at the halting -places of the festival train.
For the English and Spanish theatres these sacramental
plays, as is known, possessed an importance which has
been fully appreciated by all literary historians. In
these cases, however, the theatre freed itself from its
dependence upon the Church, and it would be impossible
to represent the famous York u mysteries " or Lope de
Vega's e Autos sacramentales " as any kind of immediate
expressions of Host worship. Our own concern is
limited to considering those elements in the Corpus
Christi ceremony which have a direct reference to the
venerable object itself, i.e. to the transformed bread,
which is exhibited and borne round.
It is natural that during the procession the Host
should be the object of the same reverence as within
the church. This reverence, again, gave rise to some
special ceremonial implements, which could not be
omitted at any great Corpus Christi festival.
When the Host rested on the altar, it was protected
from defilement by the roof of the " ciborium " or by the
" baldachin" that rose over the Mass-table. During its
procession through the streets it was to be no more
exposed than when in its own house. Therefore a
movable roof was carried above it. These " balda-
chins," which recalled the canopies of earthly princes,
naturally contributed to the triumphal impression of
the eucharistic God's victorious progress. Although
they may have appeared earlier at funerals and
Church processions, they first came into general
146 THE SAOBED SEEINE CHAP.
use as ritual implements through the Corpus Christi
ceremonial. 3
Other objects owing their origin to this ceremony
are the little Testing-altars that were set up at fixed points
on the route of the procession. They were, as the name
denotes, designed to support the Host during the
moments when the procession halted. As no sacrifice
was performed at these tables, they might be made
out of simple material, e.g. out of wood and stretched
cloth. But since the Supreme Being would in any
case rest for a while on the "reposorium" so the
provisional altar was named there was a tendency
to give it as dignified an appearance as possible. In
its form it imitates the Church's Mass-table. In its
fittings, according at any rate to modern ecclesiastical
writings, all profane glitter must be avoided; 4 but
since the decoration of these objects was often left to
the pious zeal of individual members of the congrega-
tion, it is probable that the demands of a severe taste
were not always observed. The " reposorium " was fitted
out as a dwelling-place for an honoured guest. It was
decorated with men's finest possessions, and people were
proud that these things should be in close proximity to
the eucharistic God. If the ornamentation did not
always satisfy the demands of decorative style, at any
rate it witnessed to a touching intention among the
faithful. Pious taste is by no means always aesthetic,
and Flaubert has rightly characterised the devotion
of simple souls in the story of the old servant who
placed her stuffed parrot on the resting-table of the
Host, that thus she might honour God with her dearest
possession. 6
The " baldachins " and " reposoria," however costly
and richly decorated they may have been, took no
viii THE MONSTRANCE 147
notable place in artistic production. A canopy does not
offer a suitable surface for decorative treatment ; a
provisional altar 3 again, is altogether too transitory
a thing to stimulate a craftsman's ambition. Much.
more important aesthetically is the object which serves
to enclose and immediately to support the Host itself.
It is easy to understand that the priests could not
hold the little wafer in the hand if they wished it to be
seen by the crowds. Again, if it was carried, as was
usual at one time, in its tabernacle, i.e. in a Host-shrine,
the worshippers merely saw the covering and not the
thing itself. An implement, therefore, was needed to
enclose the Host without concealing it Such an
implement existed in the relic - showers that have
earlier been described in detail. The saint-monstrance
could easily be transformed so as to carry a Host instead
of the holy bone fragments. Thus arose, through the
martyr cult once more having lent its implements to
the eucharistic cult, that ritual object which occupies
so predominant a place in the Catholic service : the
Monstrance.
The Host - monstrance seems originally to have
been employed only at the Corpus Christi processions,
but it rapidly obtained a wider use. In proportion as
the Host-cult won a higher importance in the faith, a
greater weight began to be attached to the showing of
the Sacrament. The literature of edification impressed
upon the faithful the idea that at Mass the Supreme
Being was met face to face ; 6 and superstition associated
important advantages with such a meeting. One could
not, so it was said, be exposed to any misfortune if one
began the day by waiting upon God at the Mass-table. 7
All this testifies that the worship of the Host took
on the same character as the worship of relics. The
148 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
result of this was naturally that men were not content
with the hasty glimpses of the holy object which could be
caught at the elevation. If the laity had had its way,
" le bon Dieu " would, without doubt, have been per-
petually exposed in the church without any covering.
The priests, however, could not permit the impression of
the Holy of holies to be weakened by a too frequent
repetition. Therefore in everyday life the God, i.e. the
consecrated wafer, was enclosed in a tabernacle, but
the pious were satisfied by the institution of an
" expositio sanctissimi " upon an altar in the church on
special festivals. 8 On these occasions the same im-
plements were naturally made use of as at the Corpus
Christ! processions. It is from a monstrance that the
Host radiates its divinity over the church. Just as the
eucharistic God was often spoken of by Eoman Catholic
authors as a king, so the monstrance was compared to a
throne. When it stands erect on the altar, it is a
" throne of grace," on which the transformed bread
receives the worship of the faithful.
In their form, as has been pointed out, the oldest
monstrances correspond with the relic-showers. 9 Their
most important portion consists of a cylindrical or
polygonal crystal glass which encloses the Host. The
latter rests inside the glass on a semicircular gold
piece, the so-called lunula, which is also frequently
named Melchisedek, in memory of the first priest who
carried on his hand a sacrifice of bread and wine. 10 The
glass again is surrounded by a richly-ornamented chasing
in fine metals. During the Gothic period this chasing
usually represented a simplified cross-section of a church.
Later the forms became more capricious and fantastic.
In some cases, great works of sculpture were produced
in enamelled gold and silver, representing, for instance,
vm THE MOlNTSTEAlSrCE 149
John the Baptist carrying on Ms arm a lamb, which
in its turn supports a little transparent Host-shrine.
The Renaissance introduced circular monstrances, and
the Baroque period gave rise to the type which is still
prevalent in the Church : a great flaming sun, enclosing
the Host in its centre. This type, as the interpreters
explain, commemorated the Psalmist's words, " In sole
posuit tabernaculum suum." n The Gothic forms are
unquestionably the most graceful and noble, but it is
easy to understand that the modern monstrance, by
reason of symbolical associations, appeals more power-
fully to the minds of believers.
It is not necessary to describe in detail any indi-
vidual Host-monstrances. However interesting these
implements may be for the history of artistic craftsman-
ship, yet they teach us nothing new about religious and
aesthetic ideas. There is only one of these Host-
receptacles to which we need to direct our attention,
namely, that which is pictured in Raphael's "Disputa."
In itself, indeed, this monstrance is not particularly
notable, for it has the ordinary Renaissance shape of
a circular gold frame resting upon a candelabra-like
support ; but the manner in which the " Supreme
Good " has been introduced into the composition is in
more than one respect suggestive. 12
The painting, as is well known, is horizontally
divided into two halves. In the upper half, which
represents heaven, the centre point is occupied by the
Saviour, with God the Father above Him and below
Him the dove of the Holy Ghost, descending towards
earth in a cloud. By the side of the Trinity we
see, first and foremost, Mary and John the Baptist, and
after them, in a long circle, the prophets and saints.
This circle has its complement, in the lower half of
150 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP, vm
tlie composition, in the great figures of the Christian
Church a truly motley assembly in which even personal
friends of Eaphael have received a place. The centre
point, round which all these shapes are grouped and
which thus corresponds to the heavenly circle's centre
point, the Saviour Himself, is an altar crowned by
the shining monstrance rising above the heads of the
wise men. As the Host is exhibited here, it literally
constitutes, in the expression of the Catholic dogmatists,
" a hyphen between Heaven and earth." Again, the
dove, descending beneath the Saviour's feet towards
the altar, illustrates the same idea of the work of the
Holy Ghost in effecting the sacramental incarnation,
which in mediaeval ritual was expressed by the movable
shrine in the shape of a dove. Finally, the great men
who all turn towards the monstrance not, as is usually
supposed from a misunderstanding of the title of the
fresco, in a dispute, but rather in unanimous worship and
invocation 13 imply by their gestures and expressions
that the eucharistic miracle is the highest and greatest of
all the miracles on which they have had to test their
power of thought. Thus in his composition Raphael has
concentrated the thought which lay at the basis of the
whole Catholic Mass doctrine : that the Host was the
supreme point between Heaven and earth, the riddle of
all wisdom and the centre of all faith, and the thing
which, above all others, was worthy to be worshipped,
hymned, and glorified.
CHAPTER IX
THE TABERNACLE
Vierge portant, sans rompure encourir,
Le saerement qu'on celebre a la messe.
En ceste foy je vtieil vivre et mourir.
ILLON,
Ballade faiU a la requeste de sa mere.
ITS the foregoing chapter we have been concerned with
Church implements, which by a free use of terms might
be called Host-shrines. The monstrance in which the
eucharistic God is placed when borne in procession or
exposed for worship on the altar, is indeed a covering
for holy contents ; yet it is not a dwelling-place, but
only an occasional harbourage for the Supreme Good.
In religious importance, therefore, it cannot be compared
with the God-houses, in the word's most literal meaning,
which were erected and fitted up to preserve the Church's
supply of consecrated wafers. These so-called " ciboria "
or tabernacles are in their form, their embellishment, and
their symbolical import the most characteristic of all the
products of the Church's artistic handiwork.
Even during the first centuries the custom had been
adopted of consecrating a greater number of wafers than
was needed for one holy meal, but there are no indis-
putable proofs that this precious reserve was kept in the
church itself. The priests took the Sacrament home
with them, and even the laity were allowed to take away
151
152 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
consecrated Hosts, that they might be able to make a
last communion if they were surprised by enemies. 1 The
holy objects were wrapped in cloths which were hung
round the neck, or were placed in small boxes which
were carried about the person, in the same way that an
amulet or a reliquary is carried. 2 During the times
when persecution raged most fiercely, this kind of por-
tative Host-shrine was an indispensable ritual implement.
The more the Church was compelled to conceal its exist-
ence, the more zealously did people cling to that which
was above all other things a sign of the community's
union with the Supreme Being. Care for the Host
could even lead to martyrdom, if we may believe the
legend of Tharsicius, the young acolyte, who gave his
life to save the eucharistic God. 3 If it was not thought
advisable to give the Sacrament a public and isolated
place, it was instead hidden, as carefully as one hides
one's dearest possession. In this respect the customs of
pious Catholics have been the same during all perse-
cutions. Thus we might cite, as analogous to the old
Host-receptacles, the small boxes carried on the person in
which the Ho]y of holies was preserved by the imprisoned
priests during the Commune in Paris. 4 Most famous of
all these secret " ciboria," however, is the little silver box
which S. Fran9ois de Sales kept hidden under his mantle
when he walked through the streets of Thonon and with
prearranged signs drew his congregation to follow him
secretly, so that, unknown to the Calvinists, they might
worship the holy Host. 5
It is, however, natural that, when once they felt
secure from persecution, men wished to prepare for the
Sacrament as worthy a place as possible. After Con-
stantine had secured recognition for Christianity if not
as far back as the earlier periods of transient peace 6
ix THE TABEBKACLE 153
it was considered most proper that "God's body"
should be preserved in " God's house." A depdt was
instituted in the church for the holy reserve, from which
the priests could provide themselves with Hosts if they
were unexpectedly called to a sick person and had not
time specially to consecrate new bread. Thus the
Catholic temple became what in contrast to the Pro-
testant it still is : a room in which God is not only
spiritually present on special occasions, but in which He
dwells continually in a sensuous and visible form.
The evidence as to the manner in which the holy
reserve was kept in the churches during the earliest
period is both incomplete and contradictory. It seems
most probable that the Hosts, like the relics, were
originally enclosed in boxes which had served some
worldly or pagan purposes. After the Christians had
begun to employ their own craftsmen, special receptacles
in imitation of old models were probably made for the
Sacrament, i.e. small holy " hiders " which, to a still higher
degree than the heathen shrines, gave reason for the
name of " cista mystica." 7 It is by no means easy,
however, to decide if all the " pyxes " of stone, metal,
or ivory now shown in museums under the name of
eucharistic implements really had any connection with
the Mass -ceremony. 8 What we ought to be able to
assume, however, is, that the Host- vessel was placed
near the altar. Where this was crowned by a " ciborium "
roof, the shrine for the holy reserve was hung over the
Mass- table as a " suspensorium." Here the Holy of
holies was visible throughout the church, and at the
same time inaccessible to any blasphemous approach. 9
The Sacrament swung between Heaven, i.e. the vault of
the " ciborium " roof, and earth, which " was not worthy
to be touched by so precious a gift." When, as was men-
154 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP.
tloned in the last chapter but one, the " suspensorium "
received the shape of a eucharistic dove, the form and
position of the Host-shrine harmonised completely with
the Mass-symbolism.
When the hanging shrines were not used, another
worthy and protected place was naturally sought for
the eucharistic God. In a number of churches the Hosts
were kept in movable boxes, which were set up on the
Mass-table itself, and which perhaps because they had
formerly been hung from the "ciborium" roof con-
tinued as partes pro toto to be called "ciboria." 10 In
other churches the vessel for the holy bread was placed
in sacrament - houses fixed to the ground, and as a
rule built at the side of the altar. This arrangement,
which in Germany and Italy gave rise to important
works of art, was common during the later Middle
Ages ; but it was abandoned during the sixteenth cen-
tury, after special ecclesiastical assemblies had decided
that the shrine for the holy reserve should be kept
behind the altar, within the great reredos, 11 which
during the high and late Eenaissance took on more
monumental forms than ever before. That piece of
sacred furniture which had originally borne remnants
of saints thus became, before all, a Host -preserver.
The old strife for pre-eminence between the relic-cult
and the Mass-cult was closed, and the altar-sacrament
had won its decisive victory when it occupied the central
place on the wall which had been reserved for the bones
or pictures of saints. Like a hidden, and yet to pious
observation always discernible, eye, the Host shines out
from the altar monument, and the whole church decora-
tion appears to the faithful as a frame around the Holy
of holies, which rests in the heart of the building. The
sacrament-house has disappeared, but instead the temple
ix THE TABEKNACLE 155
itself has become a single eucharistic tabernacle, which
is made and embellished to " lodge worthily " the God
who is present in the Host. 12
Where the holy reserve, in accordance with the
older custom, did not occupy this dominating posi-
tion, care was always taken that the pious might be
able to find it without difficulty. A lamp burns day
and night before God's dwelling, 13 and the little sanc-
tuary is often further distinguished by a conope, i.e.
a kind of curtain or baldaquin, which is an infallible
sign of the presence of the Supreme. " Wherever thou
seest this curtain," exclaims Father Eio in his book on
the furnishing of churches, " bow thy knee and worship.
Magister adest et voeat te." 14 Nor do the faithful
omit to signify by bowing and kneeling their reverence
for the temple's " praecellentissimus ac nobilissimus
omnium locus." 15 In the Catholic religion, therefore,
one can literally speak of a " devotion before the
Tabernacle." How profound is the reverence for the
covering of the Holy of holies may be seen from
the example of the pious monk Suso, who never
failed to choose a circuitous way past the sacrament-
house when he betook himself through the church
to or from his cell. "He who has a dear friend/'
such were the words in which he accounted for his
habit, "who dwells in his street, will gladly go a
little further/' "um eines lieblichen Erkosens wegen."
When the same Suso, in his scrupulous piety, reproaches
himself for having failed in respect towards the Sacra-
ment, he especially repents that he so often stood
thoughtless before the place where the Host was
guarded, and he compares his own lack of devotion
with the overflowing ecstasy of David, who "joyfully
and with all his might danced before the Ark of the
156 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP.
Covenant, which nevertheless contained only earthly
bread and earthly objects." 16 This comparison is worthy
of notice as a proof of the close connection of ideas
between the Tabernacle and the Old Testament Ark, 17
and from this connection we may conclude that the
Host -preserver also, like the lofty sanctuary of the
Covenant, was regarded as in itself a holy object.
It is not necessary, however, to refer to any literary
proofs that the dwelling-place of the Sacrament occupies
a predominant place in religious and aesthetic emotional
life. This circumstance appears clearly, no less in the way
in which the tabernacle has been fitted and embellished
than from the symbolical ideas attached to it. For all
the types of tabernacle, however manifold and different
they may be, possess certain qualities in common, giving
them an aesthetic interest. It need hardly be said that
careful endeavours have been made to keep the shrine
for God's body as pure as possible. According to
ecclesiastical edicts its inner walls must be completely
covered with white silk, and kept in as good and as clean
a condition as possible. 18 Its outer sides are adorned
with pious zeal, and it is evident that the craftsmen
sought in their work to do the utmost that devotion
and skill combined could achieve. Thus there are
certain of these small temples which afford the observer
more matter for admiration than the great houses around
them, i.e. the churches in which they are erected.
In a number of cases the shrine has even assumed
not only the character, but also the dimensions of an
independent building. Adam Krafft's famous sacrament-
house, nearly 20 metres in height, in the Church of
S. Lorenz in Nuremberg, could actually not have been
placed in the church, unless the top of the slender
building had curved itself along the roof of the church.
ix THE IABEENACLE 157
Such a tabernacle Is indeed paradoxical in its abnormal
development in the vertical direction. But the thin,
slender tower which, rocket-like, first shoots up along
the vault column, to bend later in a lovely curve just
where it reaches its culmination is in any case so
gracious in its peculiarity, so sumptuously trimmed
with elegant lace-work in stone carving, and so richly
decorated with small life-like and entertaining pictures
from all the principal subjects of sa'cred history, that
in our surprised and fascinated contemplation we forget
every criticism.
If we wish to see harmonious, proportional, and less
extravagant solutions of the problem of how to
enclose worthily the Holy of holies, we may look at
any of the Florentine wall tabernacles. 19 All the naivete
and grace that make the Tuscan sculptors of the second
rank Desiderio da Settignano, Benedetto da Maiano,
or Luca della Eobbia so matchless in their art have
been combined in these small cabinets of marble or
majolica ; and the disposition of the liturgical furniture
is as ingenious as it is decoratively effective. We see
before us, let into the wall, a Renaissance portal, which
through the illusion of perspective impresses one as
leading into a deeply-hidden Holy of holies. The arch
above the door is usually occupied by the dove of the
Holy Spirit, which thus stretches its wings over the
inner room. By the side of the door stand watching
angels in small niches. They often carry a scroll with
inscriptions from Thomas Aquinas's Communion cycle,
" Ecce panis angelorum." The entire portal is framed
by infant angels or angels 7 heads, and beyond by
luxuriantly rich garlands, such as only artists of della
Eobbia's school could carve. All this is so joyful,
childlike and gracious, that the decoration, if analysed,
158 THE SACEEB SHEINE CHAP.
must be admitted to agree but little with the lofty
seriousness of the Christian religion, and especially of
the Holy Sacrament
Considered as works of art, these Renaissance taber-
nacles represent the most noteworthy of all types of the
sacred cupboard, but this type cannot convey com-
plete illustration of the symbolism of the Host-shrine.
In order to know the dogmatic and poetic ideas which
attach to the aesthetic products, we must turn from
Italian and German Eenaissance sculptures to some
older and often much less artistic, yet symbolically
more important tabernacles ; and we are compelled to
pass by the purely artistic element in the embellishment,
in order to fix our attention upon the meaning of the
forms and decoration. The first thing we notice in
examining the form of mediaeval tabernacles is that
they are usually lofty and slender. Therefore the
sacrament-house in S. Lorenz is far more typical of this
kind of liturgical furniture than are the cabinets of
Italian Eenaissance. The prominence given to the
vertical direction, which made Adam KraffVs creation
so marvellous, is to a greater or lesser extent the
characteristic of the majority of Host - preservers.
Whether the tabernacle is boastfully costly, like the
high silver temple which Juan de Arfe wrought for the
Cathedral of Seville and adorned with stately Eenais-
sance colonnades, 20 or unpretentious, like the small
wooden wafer-houses in certain French and Northern
country churches, 21 men have most frequently sought
to give to the abode of the Eucharist the shape of a
tower. This type of tower is as significant for the free-
standing Host-preservers as was the form of a church in
the case of relic-shrines. Among the many names by
which the room for the holy reserve is denoted in the
ix THE TABERNACLE 159
older liturgical literature we find more often than any
other turns, i.e. tower. 22
It cannot have been due to accident that precisely
this form was considered specially suitable for taber-
nacles. "We must suppose that some important religious
ideas were associated with the conception of a tower.
To understand this association of ideas, we must acquaint
ourselves with the tower's symbolism.
A tower is an inaccessible building, and this type
has therefore been used by preference in the erection of
ancient treasuries. When as is the case, for example,
in the German churches on the Rhine the Host had
been placed above men's heads in a strong tower taber-
nacle, 23 the Sacrament had been given a dwelling-place
in which it was secure from insult or robbery an
eventuality that had always to be reckoned with, since
the Holy of holies was often stolen, to be misused for
magical purposes. 24 When the tabernacles were small
and movable, however, this practical point of view
cannot have prevailed, but it is probable instead that
the tower form was thought to convey a symbolical
warning of the shrine's precious contents. It was easy
to recall how the tower, by reason of its impregnability,
had been used as a simile in ancient poetry when it was
desired to express the idea of invincible might. The
Psalter and the Book of Proverbs offer many examples
of the use of this comparison, which naturally were not
unknown to the mediaeval ritualists and craftsmen.
Again, the doctrine of the Host, as has been shown step
by step, was for the Catholic Church both the most
precious and the most highly valued of all religious
ideas, as well as the most strongly fortified, i.e. the most
energetically defended, of all dogmas. It was natural,
therefore, that the eucharistic God should be most
160 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
efficiently protected in a shrine having the form of a
tower. And it was by a consistent expression of the
same idea that this shrine was in many cases surrounded
by small towers and a battlemented wall, i.e. by archi-
tectural motives which further heightened the impression
of a strong, well-defended, and impregnable fortress. By
the same association of ideas the eucharistic dove was
sometimes surrounded by small pinnacles and miniature
towers. 25
Among the movable tower tabernacles, often carved
in ivory, which had their place on the altar itself, there
are many, however, which are not provided with pinnacles
or walls. If we examine these Host-preservers more
closely, we find that the idea of fortification has not
been expressed in them at all. They cannot be regarded
as fortified precious shrines, whose inaccessibility it
was desirable above all things to illustrate through the
decorative motive. The tower type must therefore, at
any rate in these cases, have another function than that
of conveying the impression of power and security,
i.e. there must be attached to the idea of a tower some
symbolical thoughts other than those which refer to the
dignity of the Sacrament and the invincibility of the
Mass doctrine. What these thoughts are can easily be
found if we examine the place occupied by the tower in
older Christian art.
A tower-like building is one of the objects most
often met with in old Christian reliefs, ivory carvings,
wall-paintings, and miniatures. Especially in sepulchral
art-works is the narrow and lofty house common. If
we know the subjects of the compositions, we under-
stand that the building is designed to represent a grave.
In all the numberless reliefs and paintings portraying
the raising of Lazarus, the dead man steps out from
ix THE TAEEEIsTACLE 161
a small house having the form of a tower. 26 In the
significantly rarer early Christian and mediaeval repre-
sentations of the visit of the Marys to the tomb, the
tomb, if not a tower, is at any rate a lofty and detached
building. 27 It is not impossible that just such a type of
grave was used in the East at the time of Jesus, but
it is not necessary to form a definite opinion as to this
archaeological problem. The important thing is that
during the first Christian centuries and a large part
of the Middle Ages, people seemed to have imagined
that the Saviour was placed in an upright grave which
was either hewn out of a rock or was a detached tower
the latter, we may say in parenthesis, being a form
of grave still to be met with here and there during
quite late periods of religious painting. 28
The grave being thus regarded as a tower, it is easy
to suppose that the small tower-shaped Host-preservers
were considered as a kind of grave. This supposition
is strengthened as soon as we turn to ancient liturgical
literature. According to the Catholic idea, the " ciboria "
enclose not bread but the body of the God-man ; and
as long as this body is hidden in the Host-shrine, it is
preserved there as in a grave. " Corpus vero Domini
ideo defertur in turribus, quia monumentum Domini in
similitudinem turris fait scissura in petra" ("But the
Lord's body was laid in a tower, because His grave was
hewn out of the rock in the likeness of a tower "), we
read in the old Gallic liturgy. 29 In the ceremonial by
which " ciboria " are consecrated for their office, they are
spoken of as " corporis Christi nova sepulcra," that is,
as new graves for Christ's body. 30 Eohault de Fleury
has even found a sentence of Bede's, in which the
venerable author states that the " ciborium " ought to
be worshipped with still greater respect than would be
163 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP
given to the actual grave of Christ. " For," he says,
" the new grave preserves the Saviour's risen and living
body, while the old one only enclosed His corpse." 81
That artists too had a clear idea that the Host-
preserver was a kind of grave Is quite evident from the
decoration with which these shrines -were adorned. The
burial and resurrection of Christ are frequent motives
in the reliefs introduced on the walls of " ciboria," 82 and
the same motives are continually found in the carvings
on tabernacles attached to walls. Italian Renaissance
art offers numberless examples of this. 33 It may be men-
tioned also, at least as a curious coincidence, that the abode
of the Host is not only adorned with pictures of the
holy grave, but is often erected on the same plan as the
great monuments to princes and holy men which occupy
the walls in Renaissance churches. Just as the altar
itself, with its superstructure, leads one's thought back
to the old hero graves, so too the architecture of the
tabernacle affords a striking resemblance to the archi-
tecture of the house of the dead. At the end of our
research, we stand before the same building which
formed the starting-point for the first chapter in this
part of our work.
The symbolism of the tabernacle, however, cannot
be completely explained by those ideas which are as-
sociated with the conception of a grave. It was
indeed natural that the shrine which, preserves the
Host, i.e. the Saviour's body, should be associated with
the holy grave, in which G-od's body had for a
time rested after the completion of the Atonement;
but it was more in consonance with religious thought to
connect the Host- preserver with another holy room
which had been an abode of the incarnate God. For if,
ix THE TABERNACLE 163
on the OBe hand, the Saviour had been hidden " after
His sacrificial death " in a grave, and if the grave had
thus become a precious shrine, yet, on the other hand,
before entering the world in human form, He had been
hidden a still longer time in His Virgin Mother's womb.
Mary is therefore the foremost of all coverings of holy
contents. She is praised by poets and preachers as a
temple of God, and her beauty and virtues are glorified
with precious epithets, which are the poetical counter-
parts of the costly objects with which decorative art
embellished the reliquaries and Host-preservers. There-
fore Durandus expresses a logical conclusion of pious
reasoning when he deliberately says in his Rationale :
"And mark well that the room in which the conse-
crated Hosts are enclosed betokens the glorious Virgin's
body." 34
This line of thought Las not left many traces in
plastic art, but it is probable that the faithful were
reminded of the Virgin by the mere outer shape of the
tabernacle. The tower which had lent its form to the
Host-preserver was, as will appear from the following
chapters, one of the standing attributes of the Madonna,
and Mary's person had been associated in numberless
hymns with the conception of a tower. In many cases,
also, deliberate attempts have been made by means
of pictures to emphasise the connection between the
Sacrament and the Madonna. Both on fixed and on
detached tabernacles the Annunciation has often been
portrayed, and the greeting words of the announcing
angel engraved. 35 There are also some small Host-
shrines shaped as statuettes of the Mother of God. 86
When the custom of preserving the Host in the altar-
pieces themselves had commenced, the thought could
with still greater ease pass over from the eucharistic
164 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
God to the incarnation of the Highest in human form,
and to the human being in whom He had His abode.
The paintings above the Mass-table, indeed, represented
not only scenes from the life of the saints whose relics
were guarded at or on the altar and events from the
great Passion story, which was repeated in the renewed
sacrifice of the Sacrament, but they also portrayed the
great and holy tabernacle : Mary, the Virgin Mother.
When followed to its logical conclusion, however,
the line of thought by which the Host was identified
with the God-man led to some further associations of
ideas which were important for the whole of religious
and aesthetic life. If Mary and the Tabernacle had a
common characteristic in that they both enclosed the
Deity, the same characteristic could be accorded also to
those who in the Communion partook of the body of
the Highest. The priest who daily celebrates Mass
and thereby appropriates the Sacrament in both its
forms the bread and the wine is regarded in con-
sequence of this as a dwelling-place of God. He is a
sacred shrine, which even externally we may think of
the Catholic Mass robes is quite as expensively deco-
rated and adorned as any tabernacle or reliquary. Quite
literally he appears to Catholic ideas as a Host-preserver.
" Special hiders of God's body," Birgitta calls the priests ;
and she asserts, with an exaggeration which is found
also in S. Bernard's writings, " that their office is higher
than the angels " since they touch with their hands and
mouth Him whom the angels would fear to handle. 37
In Thomas Aquinas's Mass doctrine this thought is ex-
pressed still more unmistakably. The wine, he says,
must not be given to laymen, since God's blood must
be preserved in specially costly vessels ; but the priest
is a vessel of solid gold, adorned with the precious
ix THE TABEENACLE 165
stones of the virtuous. 38 " How great and honourable is
the priests' calling/ 7 cries the author of De imitatione
Christi^ " since with holy words they consecrate the God
of glory, and bless Him with their lips, hold Him in
their hands, receive Him in their own mouths, and offer
Him to others. How clean should the hands be, how
clean the mouth, how holy the body, and how spotless
the heart of the priest to whom the Lord of purity so
often enters." S9 All the ideas connected with the imple-
ments of the Mass are, it seems, applied also to the
celebrant of the Mass. We have only to read how
S. Bernard specifies the duties and rights of priests. " To
the Levites it is said, purify yourselves, ye who bear the
Lord's vessels (Isaiah lii 11), but to you it should be
said, purify yourselves, ye who are the Lord's vessels.
In you is buried the honourable and glorified body that
once was buried lifeless at Jerusalem." " Woe to thee if
thou hast not laid Him in a new or at any rate renewed
grave, i.e. in a body that is pure from sin, or if thou
hast sinned, purified through repentance and penance.
Woe to thee if thou hast not buried Him in a clean
shroud, i.e. in a conscience that has been purified and
freed from every spot/' The rock grave in which none
had been buried save the Highest, and the clean wrap-
pings with which Joseph of Arimathea covered the dead
Saviour, serve as similes for the celebrant's undefiled
virtue. 40
For one who, like S. Bernard, wrote for priests, it was
natural to insist primarily on the demands for purity.
Those authors, on the other hand, who addressed
the laity, laid most stress upon the holiness of the
celebrants and the reverence due to them by reason of
their calling. By no fault or offence could the priests
entirely forfeit the rank they acquired from their con-
166 THE SACKED SHEHSTE CHAP.
nection with God. 41 S. Francis of Assisi has expressed
more sincerely and more intimately than any one else
the veneration of the faithful for those who daily bear
the Supreme Being in their bodies. il If" he says in
his testament, " I possessed all the wisdom of Solomon
and met some poor minor priests out in the country
side, I should not like to preach without their permis-
sion. Them, and all other priests, I will fear, love, and
honour as my lords, and I will not look upon their sin,
for I see God's Son in them, and they are my lords.
And I do so because here on earth I see nothing of the
Divine Son of God save His most holy flesh and blood,
which the priests partake of, and which they alone dis-
tribute to others/' The brothers of the order, according
to Francis's instructions, should even be prepared to kiss
the hoofs of the horse ridden by a priest. 42 When
we read these pious outpourings we understand how,
according to Catholics, the celebrant by the eating and
drinking partook of a holiness that made him literally
a being worthy of worship.
The same ideas must naturally be applied, if in a
lesser degree, to the communicating laymen. Every
man who partakes at Mass of God's body is transformed
thereby into a covering of the Supreme Being. He
does not become holy, but he acquires a high dignity,
and is weighted by a heavy responsibility. The pious,
who prepare themselves for Mass, seek therefore with
all their power to make themselves fit, in the religious
expression, to offer their sinful bodies as a dwelling-place
for God. Accordingly, just as in the arrangement of
the Tabernacle, the Holy Place was shielded from defile-
ment with anxious and solicitous reverence and was
adorned with devout zeal, so in their own persons men
desired to avoid all uncleanness and to deck themselves
ix THE TABERNACLE 167
as well as possible in order to receive God in a worthy
tabernacle. 43 In this aim, it was said, they imitated the
Madonna, who humbly, reverently, and piously had
offered her bosom to the Lord of worlds. In the
chief devotional book of the Middle Ages, De imitatione
Christi, " the disciple," preparing himself for Mass, ex-
pressly compares himself to the Mother of God : " Lord
God, my Creator and Eedeemer, with such great affec-
tion, n reverence, praise, and honour, with such great
thankfulness, worthiness, and love, with such good faith,
hope, and purity, I desire to receive Thee this day, as
Thy most holy Mother, the glorious Virgin Mary, received
and desired Thee when, after the angel had announced
to her the mystery of the Incarnation, humbly and
piously she answered: 'Behold the handmaid of the
Lord, be it unto me as Thou hast said/ " ** The glorious
Virgin who housed the Supreme in the pure and lovely
temple of her being was thus the pattern for all believing
communicants.
To the mystic who wrote the Imitation of Christ
the external dignity was only a symbol for the inner
state of mind. The pious ought to receive the Incarnate
God into their bodies adorned with virtues and cleansed
from sin. The idea that the Highest c'ould be enclosed
in a human being led thus to a striving which was not
merely aesthetic, but which also, if followed out in all
its results, might have succeeded in winning a far-
reaching ethical significance. It is not, indeed, probable
that the moral applications of the Mass doctrine were
known to the great majority of believers, but in the
ritualistic authors many proofs can be found that the
symbolism of the tabernacle was understood in a purely
mental sense. Durandus, for example, speaks of the
Host-shrine as corresponding to man's memory, which
168 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP, rx
carefully harbours in its repository all God's gifts to
the race. 46
The conception of the Sacred Shrine which lay at the
root of the symbolism of the altar, the reliquaries, and
the tabernacles, has thus been more and more extended.
It embraces, as appeared in the first chapters of this
research, many peculiar architectural and decorative
objects, which by reason of certain dogmas were con-
sidered sacred by those confessing a certain form of
religion. But it includes also another covering which is
precious by reason of the contents it may enclose. This
last sanctuary is a sacred shrine which, independently of
religious assumptions, is worthy of being reverenced by
every one : the body of man and the soul of man, the
noblest subject for all art and the finest groundwork of
any adornment.
The symbolism associated with these coverings and
their contents will be the subject of the latter half of
this work. There, in accordance with the nature of the
task, architecture and the decorative arts will no longer
be touched upon. It is in the representations of paint-
ing and sculpture, and above all of poetry, that we must
seek Catholicism's ideal type of physical and pioral
beauty, i.e. the human Virgin, who by reason of her
grace and her virtues was found worthy to be the
Mother of God.
II
CHAPTEE X
THE DOGMA OF MARY
Wherfore in laude, as I can best and may,
Of thee and of the white lily flour,
Which that thee bare, and is a maide alway,
To tell a storie I wol do my labour ;
Not that I may encresen hire honour,
For she hireselven is honour and rote
Of bountee, next hire son, and soules bote.
CHAUCER, The Prioresses Tale.
IN the first part of this work an account has been
given of a number of symbolical ideas derived from the
doctrine of the consecrated wafer's identity with the
Godhead. It has been shown that Catholic ritual
and ritual art meet around that mystery through which
the Highest reveals Himself to men, and allows Himself
to be appropriated by them in the shape of earthly
bread. It has also been shown that the same doctrine
of the Sacramental transformation, which gave their
sanctity to the altar -place and to the altar imple-
ments and an awful and mighty meaning to the
altar ceremonies, has also led to the dwelling-place of
the Host being associated in the minds of the pious
with the Mother of God, i.e. with the tabernacle of
God's human body. Through this association our
inquiry was immediately transferred to another idea,
which was as important for religious art and religious
and aesthetic life as was the Mass doctrine. The
171
172 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
Sacramental incarnation in the altar - miracle has its
correspondence in the birth, at oace natural and super-
natural, of the Deity as a man. This mystery is for
Catholic art, Catholic poetry, and Catholic devotion as,
important fundamentally as the great Mass mystery.
Just as the table and instruments of the Mass are
the holiest of all earthly objects, so Mary, i.e. the in-
strument through which the divine birth was made
possible, is the holiest of all earthly beings. The
symbolical ideas attached to the great Sacrament fre-
quently have their counterparts, even in the minutest
details, in the symbols of the Incarnation ; and the
state of mind with which the pious regard the Mother
of God is in many respects similar to the devotion
towards the altar-miracle. The cult of the Madonna is
based, like that of the Host, on the idea that the
Supreme Being entered into relationship with earthly
elements. The earthly elements, the bread and wine or
the human flesh, become by reason of this relationship
the objects of an adoring veneration, and the venera-
tion in each case expresses itself in an anxious care
for the inviolability of what is holy.
Our account of the Mass doctrine has shown that
the Sacrament gave rise to a ritual science, which
made the altar-service a model of earnest and careful
cleanliness. The altar is a table, and the Communion
is a meal ; but the table and its implements are ideal
types of all household goods, and the meal consists
in an eating and drinking from which it is sought to
abstract all gross elements. The appropriation of the
eucharistic God becomes an act in which nutrition is
idealised and in which the biological phenomenon
achieves to use the expression of the pious its
sanctification. Through a similar aesthetic and religious
x THE DOGMA OF MAEY 173
idealisation, the second fundamental process of life lias
been raised to a higher plane in the cult of the
Madonna. Mary is a mother, who conceives and gives
birth to and suckles a child ; but the child is a God at
the same time as it is a man, and according to the
religious idea its holiness must not be profaned by too
close a contact with what is earthly. Just as in the
handling of the eucharistic God in Catholic ritual the
utmost care was taken to avoid any wasting or defile-
ment of the Holy of holies, so in Catholic dogmatics
pious labour and subtle arguments have striven to
isolate the idea of God's life from the ideas of the low
and unclean elements which are thought to be inherent
in natural generation. Thus the Madonna becomes the
model for all mothers, an ideal type which serves as a
pattern for earthly women, but which cannot be in any
way confused with them. The principle of the in-
violability of what is holy is carried so far that it
ends in a paradox. That Mary should be a real
mother to her Divine Child was demanded by pious
devotion ; but the worship of the Holy of holies
required at the same time that she, as the Mother and
fostress of God, should be spotlessly pure. Therefore,
the Catholic process of thought logically led to the
doctrine of a woman in whom motherhood was freed
from all earthly and material elements. The processes
of life are sanctified in her person, but that person
stands so high as to be quite independent of human
conditions. For the Madonna is indeed a mother, but
she is at the same time a virgin.
It is in the union of these opposites that we must
seek the fundamental trait in the Madonna-type of the
Eoman Church. Such as this type meets us in poetry
and painting, it is a product of an aesthetic activity,
174 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
but even in this case the artistic production is based
upon dogmatic development. Just as we cannot fully
understand the decoration of the Church without know-
ing the theology of the Mass, so we cannot rightly com-
prehend the poems and pictures of the Madonna if we
have not made ourselves acquainted with the doctrine
of the Holy Virgin's personality. To a considerable
extent, therefore, the statements we are about to make
in the following chapters are based upon a study
of the purely theological literature of the Middle Ages
and early Christianity. It has, however, not been
thought necessary to give space in this work to a detailed
account of doctrinal history. The development of
dogmas is treated, therefore, only in a hasty and com-
pressed introduction, in which the reader will, as far as
possible, be spaxed explanations of mere Church history.
Many learned battles have been fought out over the
date at which the worship of the Madonna commenced.
Without examining the arguments brought forward
by experts, we may take it for granted, on good
grounds, that the cult of Mary did not originate in
the earliest Christian community. The idea that the
Mother of Jesus occupied an exceptional position among
mankind, and was thus worthy of homage by the side
of her Son, could not have won widespread acceptance
among the faithful so long as the immediate apostolical
traditions were still living. The distinctive features in
the Catholic Church's figure of the Madonna are in
many respects so openly at strife with the narratives of
the canonical gospels, that a far-reaching work of inter-
pretation must have been carried out before the text of
the Bible could be brought into harmony with the
demands of the cult of Mary. To understand the
x THE DOGMA OF MAEY 175
course of this development, It is necessary to examine
what is recorded of the Mother of Jesus in the oldest
gospels.
If we read through the narrative books of the New
Testament without preconceived opinions, we cannot
avoid being surprised at the inconspicuous place there
allotted to Mary. In S. Mark's Gospel which accord-
ing to most modern critics must be regarded as the
earliest of the Synoptic Gospels the Holy Virgin is only
mentioned once (iii. 31-35), namely, in the story of how
Jesus replied, when told that His mother and brothers
called for Him, " whosoever shall do the will of God,
the same is my brother and my sister and mother."
This utterance, which is introduced with unimportant
variations in the first and third gospels also (Matthew
xii. 46-50, Luke viii. 19-21), certainly does not indicate
that the Saviour desired to raise Mary above all other
human beings. Rather He seems to wish to deny that
He was bound to His mother by any natural bond of
kinship entitling her to a place of honour by His side. 1
Such a thought is expressed still more clearly in S. Luke's
narrative of how Jesus rebukes the woman of the people
who lifted up her voice to praise His mother : " But He
said : yea, rather blessed are they that hear the word
of God and keep it " (Luke xi. 27-28).
These utterances gain all the more importance if
placed in connection with the fact that Mary is never
spoken of as partaking in Jesus 7 work of teaching. The
canonical gospels even leave us in ignorance as to the
position His mother occupied in relation to her Son's
mission. Were it not for the short mention of her in
the first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles which
refers to the time after Jesus 7 death we should not
even know if she had attached herself to His party.
176 THE SACEED SHKIHTE CHAP.
The words of S. Mark (iii. 21), that Jesus' mother and
friends feared that His mind was deranged, do not show
that Mary was convinced of her Son's divine nature and
calling ; and we seek in vain for her name in the lists
of those who followed Jesus during the decisive events
in His life. Only S. John's Gospel (which is generally
considered to date from a later period than the others)
ascribes to the mother a place by the Cross ; but not
even here and still less in the Synoptic Gospels
is Mary named among those who shared in the great
events after the crucifixion. To judge from the
canonical narrative, she was not present when Christ
was laid in the grave; and in the story of how the
pious women go to the grave with salves and oint-
ments, there is special mention among these women of
Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary, the mother of
James (Luke xxiv. 10), but not of Mary the mother
of Jesus. Again, when Jesus rose from the grave, He
showed Himself first to Mary Magdalene, and after-
wards to His disciples ; but the Bible does not tell us
that He revealed himself to that Mary who stood closer
to Him than either the disciples or the pious women.
If the canonical writings, therefore, contain little
which corresponds with all that Catholic art and theology
tell us about the sorrowing mother, yet this does not in
itself prove that the doctrine of the Eoman Church
definitely conflicts with the oldest traditions. For,
according to the Catholic explanation, the name of
Jesus' mother has often been intentionally omitted in
the Gospels, since it could not in any way be even
questioned that she above all others supported her
Son during His sufferings. 2 Such an argument, how-
ever, can only be applied when we have to account
for the lack of reference to the Holy Virgin. It has no
x THE DOGMA OF MAEY 177
weight as against those Bible passages in which Mary is
spoken of, but spoken of in words which cannot be
harmonised with the dogmas as to her distinctive char-
acteristics. The Evangelists, indeed, leave the mother
out of view when they portray their Master's greatness
and suffering, and in doing so they give the imagination
full scope to picture for itself the Madonna's part, in the
Passion story ; but they could not do otherwise than
notice the mother when they had to speak of God's
human birth, and to describe His life as a human child.
In the first chapters of the Gospels of S. Matthew and
S. Luke, therefore, Mary is the real protagonist ; and in
these chapters there are some expressions which would be
entirely unintelligible if during the earliest period the
Madonna had in reality been regarded as Catholic dogma
would have us think her.
"We need not, however, attach any great weight to
the much-discussed Bible passages, in which mention is
made of "Jesus' brothers and sisters/ 9 These words
have, indeed, led Jewish and Protestant critics to assert
that, after the birth of Jesus, Mary bore some earthly
children to Joseph, and that consequently she did not
remain a virgin throughout her life. In support of
such a conclusion there have been quoted also those
expressions in the New Testament in which Jesus has
been specially described as Mary's Jirst-born son
(Matthew i 25, Luke ii. 7). But it has been urged on
the other side that the title " first-born," which in the
Mosaic law carried with it a judicial privilege, was often
applied even to sons who had no younger brothers or
sisters. 3 It has further been advanced that the expres-
sion "brothers" can well be understood in a wider
meaning, i.e. as referring to half-brothers or cousins. 4
Catholic apologists have, therefore, been able to repulse,
178 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
with a certain success, what was to them a disturbing'
accusation, to wit that she who had borne a God could
later lower herself to be the mother of human children.
On the other hand, the fact that S. Matthew, in
speaking of Joseph's relationship to Mary (I 25), quite
evidently refers to an earthly connection between them
after Jesus' birth, has been a bad stumbling-block for
the dogmatists. 5 Some authors have tried to evade
this inconvenient expression by means of a philological
explanation, 6 while others have chosen the safer way of
ignoring it entirely. 7 An isolated passage can, indeed,
be easily overlooked by the less careful critics. But it
seems impossible, at least for one who is no theologian,
to stifle those objections to the dogma of Mary's virginal
motherhood which are raised by the Evangelists' accounts
of Jesus' descent. As is well known, it is emphatically
asserted that the Saviour was God's Son, and not
begotten by any human father ; but at the same time
it is stated that as a man he belonged to the old
Jewish royal family, that he was "a lord of David's
line." To prove his right to this title, S. Matthew and
S. Luke produced two pedigrees, which begin, one with
Adam and the other with Abraham, but which both
end with Josepli that Joseph who, according to the
doctrine of all Christian Churches, was indeed Mary's
husband but not Jesus' father. In Luke's text the
genealogical tree is introduced at once with an assertion
that Jesus was, " as was believed, the son of Joseph."
It must strike everybody that the Evangelists quote
as proof a document which, according to their own
admissions, has no application to the case in point.
If we turn to theological literature, we seek in vain
for any solution of this contradiction. Any one who has
not previously committed himself to a definite attitude,
x THE DOGMA OF MAET 179
can never be convinced that, as modern commentators
assert, the pedigrees really referred to Mary and not to
Joseph. There is only one interpretation which can
bring clearness into this involved story, and this inter-
pretation does not harmonise with the doctrine of the
virginal motherhood : that people were inclined to
prove Jesus' descent from David through Joseph (and
did not wish to or could not find any connection with
David in the person of Mary) must have been due to
the fact that a relationship was earlier assumed between
Jesus and the man whom the Church calls his earthly
foster father. We are, therefore, justified in supposing
that the genealogical portions of the Gospels date from
a period when the dogma of the divine conception had
not yet been developed. 8
In support of this view we may refer to the doctrines
of certain religious communities which long survived by
the side of the orthodox Church, and which probably
represent the opinions of the earliest generations. The
so-called Jewish Christians, the "Ebionites," never
recognised that Jesus had been born otherwise than as
a man. In His resurrection they saw a miracle suffi-
ciently great to enable them to dispense with the dogma
of the miraculous conception, and they believed that it
was not until His baptism that He assumed His divine
nature. In the canonical account of the baptism we
can still, in the opinion of some critics, recognise traces
of such a view, which has, therefore, been supposed to
have prevailed among the compilers of the lost original
Gospel. 9 For that generation, or for those generations
which adopted this view, the sacred history proper only
began at the moment where the Gospel of S. Mark
commences that is to say, Jesus was regarded as
something more than a man, only from the moment
180 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
when the dove descended over His head at His baptism.
Mary might, indeed, appear to these Jewish Christians
as a venerable figure for she had been mother to Him
who was to become a God ; but she could not herself
be considered a holy being ; she had never taken part
in any miracle, and she was as yet no Madonna. There
was, therefore, no occasion to occupy oneself with her
personal life more than is done in S. Mark's Gospel.
This first period in the history of the idea of the
Madonna cannot, however, have had a long duration.
In the narratives of S. Matthew and S. Luke we
already meet with a fully developed idea of Jesus'
supernatural birth, and it is not difficult to understand
the original reason why the Christian faith was no
longer able to retain the view which had prevailed in
the earliest community. For the more Christianity
spread among heathen peoples, the more it must have
been influenced by the heathen way of looking at things.
As is well known, all the ancient mythologies contained
traditions of heroes and demi-gods who were born super-
naturally of a divine father and a human mother. What
is more noteworthy, there was even mention e.g. in the
myths of Buddha, Zoroaster, Pythagoras, and Plato
of cases of miraculous birth, in which the father had
been a god or spirit, and the mother had been, and
moreover remained after the birth, an earthly virgin.
These old and precious ideas of the supernatural origin
of great men were not willingly renounced by those
who accepted the new religion ; 10 nor was it necessary
to make such a sacrifice, because men thought that they
could recognise in the Jewish traditions something
corresponding to the heathen legends. In the Greek
septuagint translation of the Old Testament, Isaiah's
famous prophecy as to the young woman who should
x THE DOGMA OF MAEY 181
bear her people's Saviour Immanuel (vii. 14) was
rendered as a prophecy about a virgin who should bear
him. Instead of the Hebrew word alma there had been
introduced, not its exact equivalent veavw, but the
word T7ap0evo$. 11 Thus a fatal mistake, of which the
seventy translators were guilty, brought about that
confusion of heathen fables and Jewish tradition which
still lies at the root of the creeds of all the Christian
Churches. By applying the old prophecy to the hero
of the new religion, it could be shown that Jesus
Immanuel came into the world by means of a miracle
similar to that by which the ancient gods and goddesses
were born. In this idea the converts could find food
for that belief in the miraculous which their own
mythologies had fostered in them.
We must not suppose, however, that only former
heathens appreciated the doctrine of the Saviour's super-
natural birth. The idea served the needs of religious
polemics too well to be thrust aside by Christian apolo-
gists. There had, indeed, been spread among Jews and
heathens many slanderous tales concerning the holy
Virgin, which could not be without effect on the ideas
of her Son's dignity. 12 Even if it had been successfully
proved that Mary never had any earthly lover, but
lived as a faithful wife to Joseph, yet a struggle had
still to be fought against all those unbelievers who could
not see anything divine in a man whose father and
mother, brothers and sisters, were human beings like
themselves (Matthew xiii. 56). Both calumny and
doubt, however, were unanswerably refuted by referring
to the supernatural and virginal birth. Therefore the
error of translation in the text of the Greek Bible was
steadfastly adhered to, and all those who wished to
correct the old mistake were persecuted. When in the
182 THE SAGEED SHRINE CHAR
time of Hadrian, the old Rabbi Aquila introduced into
Ids literal rendering of the Old Testament the expression
" young woman," instead of " virgin," he was accused of
having attacked, with deliberate malice, one of the
fundamental truths of Christianity. 13 The Church's
conception soon proved victorious over all the philo-
logical science of heretics; and when the opposition
had been silenced, the idea of the Saviour's person
had become quite different from that which had
probably prevailed among the earliest communities.
Messias, it was said, had not been born in the same
way as other men, and therefore He, the virgin-born,
was from His very birth, and even before His birth, a
God. Believers needed not confine themselves to wor-
shipping an adult Jesus who partook of a higher nature
only after His baptism the very child was worthy to be
honoured and praised with devout veneration. Starting
from this line of thought, we should logically arrive at
the dogma of Mary's sanctity, Le. at the cult of the
Madonna, who bore God in her virgin womb.
The agitation against the Ebionite doctrines of the
Saviour's purely natural birth might, however, be carried
so far as to lead to a neglect of His mother's importance.
When people had once begun to emphasise the super-
natural element in Jesus' real nature, they were in
many cases driven to conceive of His whole earthly
existence as a mere illusion. He was too high and
great, it was said, to stand in any kind of relationship
to His human kinsfolk. In order to defend the Church's
doctrine, it was advantageous that Joseph could be
looked upon as merely a foster-father ; but as a result
of further progress in this direction Mary's position
in the religious hierarchy was imperilled. For it was
easy to see in her also only a foster-mother of the
x THE DOGMA OE MAEY 183
incarnate God. Indeed, it was stated by certain
gnostic sects that God tie Father and the Holy Spirit
had been Jesus' real parents. 14 If such a view had
become predominant in the Church no worship of the
Madonna could ever have arisen. It is not for an out-
sider to determine whether religious life would have
gained or lost thereby, but it is at any rate certain
that religious art would have missed its most grateful
and important subject. For the dogma which became
the Church's dogma, after the opinions of both the
Ebionites and the gnostic Doketists had been successfully
crushed, is one which, better than any other, satisfied
the demands of aesthetic production and of aesthetic
feelings. Mary's actual motherhood was emphasised
as against those who denied her physical relationship
to the God-man ; while, on the other hand, her virginity
was emphasised as against those who disbelieved in the
Child's divine nature and supernatural birth. In chang-
ing formulae, but with unvarying import, the philosophy
of beauty has always raised a demand for the blending of
ideal purity and tangible reality. This demand cannot
be more perfectly fulfilled than in the Church's paradox
concerning Mary : a woman who is virgin and mother ;
who is entirely human, yet bears God in her body ; who
is sufficiently high to be reverently worshipped, yet is
sufficiently near to be reached by affection. The Catholic
Madonna is a mythical creation, just as, from an agnostic
point of view, every personal and anthropomorphic god
is a myth; but if we judge myths merely as artistic
creations, we must recognise that no god or goddess
has given its worshippers such an ideal as the Mary of
Christian art and poetry.
It is important to establish the fact that the funda-
mental traits in the Madonna ideal, namely, purity and
184 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
sublimity, can be recognised already in the description
of Mary given by S. Matthew and S. Luke. The con-
tradictions in the accounts of the genealogy of Jesus
prove indeed, as was said above, that the authors of the
first and the third gospels depended upon older texts,
dating from a time when His supernatural birth was not
yet recognised. On the other hand, the same contradic-
tions show that when these gospels were compiled an
attempt was made to bring the traditions of the first
Christian generation into harmony with a newer con-
ception. It was this aim that lay at the foundation of the
clumsy editorial addition at the beginning of S. Luke's
pedigree to the effect that Jesus, " as was believed," was
the son of Joseph. Orthodox criticism was not aroused
by the unreasonableness of the introduction by the
Evangelist of a pedigree, the importance of which was
denied at its starting-point. All the features in the
sacred narrative which alluded to a natural course of
events were overlooked, and attention was fixed only
upon the miraculous element in the legends of the
Annunciation and Conception. It was all the easier
to emphasise merely the supernatural points, because
in the latest of the synoptic books certain expressions
were to be found which contained an undoubted glori-
fication of Mary's person. S. Luke speaks of her as
"full of grace," and as "blessed among women." This
use of terms does not, indeed, prove that Mary had
already become the object of any cult ; but it does show
that in the middle of the second century certain condi-
tions necessary for the development of the Madonna cult
already existed. 15 During this period we might expect
to find the Holy Mother pictured in art or sung in poetry.
However, the time was not yet come when Mary was
to play a prominent part in Christian devotional life.
x THE DOGMA OF MAEY 185
In order that the Holy Virgin should take a
dominating place among Christian conceptions, it was
necessary that the ideas of her purity and sublimity
should be emphasised more than they were in the meagre
descriptions of the Evangelists. This result was brought
about by the quarrels and disputes which occupied the
religious life of the faithful during the fourth and fifth
centuries. Here we must first take into account the
stream of asceticism which broke over the Western
Church at this time. The fact that men began to
regard with fear and shrinking everything belonging
to earthly life, favoured the development of the Mary
dogma in a double sense. The more people saw un-
cleanliness in the processes of human life, the more
were they driven to accentuate the idea of the perfect
purity of the Mother of God. She was, it was said,
not only a virgin in her motherhood, but throughout
her life she had been protected from every physical
and mental pollution. Only from such a being could
the Highest have been born without a profanation of
His Godhead. But if the solicitude of pious thought
for the Holy of holies thus gave an increased import-
ance to the doctrine of Mary's absolute virginity, this
doctrine in its turn promoted the ideas of her holiness.
For according to the severe and life -hating outlook,
asceticism was a bloodless martyrdom, which was quite
as pleasing to God as a bloody one. 16 It was, there-
fore, so men thought, by reason of personal merit that
Mary was able to serve as Mother to the Highest.
Previously her person had been to some extent thrust
aside in favour of the men and women who had suffered
death for their faith, but now her rank became as
high as theirs. She was worshipped in cloisters and in
the huts of hermits as the perfect model for all pious
186 THE SACEED SHBHsTE CHAP.
monks and nuns. She was regarded as the natural
protectress of those who desired to realise in their
lives the ascetic ideals, and her purity was glorified
by those authors who desired to develop in their
readers a contempt for the joys of earthly existence. 17
Though the ascetic movement thus lay at the root
of the ideas of Mary's sinlessness, yet it could not
immediately influence theological literature proper. It
was now, as always, the needs of religious controversy
which led to the doctrine being defined in a dogmatic
formula. For in the fourth century, as at the time
when the gospels were written, fierce battles had to be
fought out with unbelievers who refused to accept the
Church's point of view. The same passages about Jesus'
" brothers and sisters," and about Jesus as Mary's first-
born, that had already given rise to the ancient Ebionites'
disparaging assertions in regard to the Mother of God,
were again brought to the fore in the fourth century
by opponents of the ascetic morality. Thus Jovinianus,
the friend of Hieronymus's youth, sought, by referring to
Mary's sons and daughters, to defend earthly marriage
against the condemnation of moralisers. In the course
of the controversy which as a consequence flamed up
between him and Hieronymus, the Madonna's virginity
was demonstrated with the aid of subtle arguments
from the Old Testament prophets. At the same time
Ambrosius, with a less violent but equally ingenious
dialectic, was contending against Bonosius, who had like-
wise ventured to assert that Mary had borne children
to Joseph after the birth of Jesus. Criticism and doubt
could not shake the belief in the virginity of the Mother
of God. Their only result was that the doctrine was
held more firmly than before. 18
The second of the two dogmas fundamental to
x THE DOGMA OF MAEY 187
the Madonna cult also received its logical justification
and its paradoxical exaggeration during the struggles
against "heretical errors." After the Church Council
at Nicaea in 325 had determined that the Son was
of the same nature as the Father, the custom of speak-
ing of Mary as a theotdkos a Mother of God grew
more and more common. Especially the Eastern fathers
Athanasius, Ephraim Syrus, Eusebius, and Chrysostomus
made frequent use of this name in their writings. 19
Just as they did not weary of dilating upon the miracle
of a virgin being able to bear a child and yet remain
a virgin, so also they praised in pompous theological
rhetoric this second wonder : that a created being had
given birth to its own Creator. Such expressions, how-
ever, could not but challenge the criticism of those who
were unwilling entirely to subordinate their reason to
faith, and the contradictions only resulted in the dogma
winning greater power over the minds of the orthodox.
Nestorius, the patriarch of Constantinople, was the
advocatus diaboli, who against his will did more than
any one else indirectly to promote the worship of Mary
as Mother of God.**
Jovinianus and Bonosius represented the view which
had been held by the Ebionites. Nestorius, in his
doctrine, expressed a conception which agreed to a
certain extent with the assertions of the Doketists.
Like them, he did not admit that the two natures of
the Saviour entered into a complete union. In the
passion and humiliation the Divine Being had no part,
and it was in his opinion only the man that had been
born of Mary. The idea that the Highest Himself sub-
mitted to the conditions of earthly life was, therefore,
an abomination against which a Christian ought to pro-
test with all his might, and Nestorius did not hesitate
188 THE SACRED SHELVE CHAP.
publicly to attack those who worshipped the infant Child
as a God and its mother as a fostress of God. His zeal
even caused him to create a disturbance in the church
where Bishop Proclus had preached in glorification of
Mary theotdkos, and he was not satisfied with con-
demning the current Madonna worship by word of
mouth. He disseminated his views in small pamphlets
which circulated among the Eastern communities and
were even spread among the monks and hermits in
Egypt. In these regions, however, he was met by an
opponent who would not allow him to continue his
agitation unhindered. S. Cyril, Bishop of Alexandria,
confuted his views in a circular letter directed to all the
cloisters in Egypt. This was the beginning of a duel
between Cyril and Nestorius, which in fierceness and
importance can only be compared with that between
Arius and Athanasius.
The decisive encounter was waged in 431 at the
great and universal Church Council at Ephesus, at
which the doctrine of Mary's personality and her
relation to the Trinity were definitely fixed. There
is no need here to go into all the parliamentary and
unparliamentary stratagems by which either party,
ad maiorem Dei gloriam, sought to win the advantage
over the other. Eecourse was had, perhaps more than
at any subsequent period, to systematic obstruction.
Forcible steps were taken to silence opponents, and
people did not hesitate even to imprison too contentious
antagonists. The result of all these transactions was
that late in the autumn, when most of the participants
were wearied out by the debates and ill or impoverished
by their enforced residence in a foreign town, the ortho-
dox party that which wins bears the title for the future
received the assent both of the Council and the
x THE DOGMA OF MAEY 189
Emperor to the doctrine that Mary was a Mother of
God. The theot6kos dogma had Issued victoriously
from the strife, and Ephesus could boast of being the
birthplace of the official Madonna cult.
It seems as if it must have been something more
than a mere coincidence that it was from this town
that the worship of the Virgin Mother was proclaimed.
It was in Ephesus that the Evangelist John had lived
during the latter part of his life, and it was with him
that Jesus' mother found a home after her Son's death.
For this reason a local tradition had developed to the
effect that the Holy Virgin was buried at Ephesus. The
church in which the Council met was the first and, at
that time, the only church in Christendom which had
been devoted to the worship of the Madonna. She
had been prayed to here long before any other place
had accorded her any prominent rank among the great
saints. Thus the Church and the cult seem in this case
too to have been associated with the place where the
saint's body had been buried. 21
There Is, however, no foundation for the supposition
that Mary either lived or died at Ephesus. This sup-
position, indeed, conflicts with the majority of the
Apocryphal narratives. 22 It is easy, therefore, to see
in the Asiatic local legends a survival of old heathen
myths. The Madonna, so one is apt to imagine, might
have taken in the cult of the Ephesians the place
of some divinity which had been expelled. It would
be neither the first nor the last time that Christian
theology had met with an ancient tradition and absorbed
heathen conceptions. Besides, the moment must have
been particularly favourable for such a fusion, for as a
result of theological speculation an idea had been formed
190 THE SACBED SHKINE CHAP.
of the Madonna's perfections, which, was calculated to
make her the object of a cult similar to those of the
heathen gods and goddesses.
All these suppositions win convincing probability
if we think of the kind of memories which were attached
to the place where the great Church Council was held.
From primitive times Ephesus had been the centre for
the worship of a goddess who united in herself the
virtues of virginity and motherhood : Artemis, the lofty
divinity of hunting, of the moon, of child-birth and
chastity. Her temple was one of the wonders of the
ancient world, and her name one of the mightiest ii?t
antique mythology. Even from the Bible we can get
some idea of her greatness. When Paul tried to preach
at Ephesus, he met with opposition from all the gold-
smiths who gained a livelihood by selling small models
of the city's temple. If this man, they said, is allowed
to continue changing the people's belief, not only will
our craft die out, but there is danger also that " the
temple of the great goddess Diana should be despised,
and her magnificence should be destroyed, whom all
Asia and the world worshippeth." At this speech the
people became full of wrath and ran together through the
streets calling out : " Great is Diana of the Ephesians "
(Acts xix. 24-29).
The new religion had brought the temple of the
goddess into obscurity even more quickly and more
completely than could have been feared. Her magnifi-
cence was destroyed for the space of some generations,
and the place of her cult lost its importance. But
when Cyril and his party succeeded in establishing the
dogma that the Virgin Mary was the Mother of God, it
was as if the old cry had gone forth over the world with
a new proclamation : Great is the Madonna of the
x THE DOGMA OF MAEY 191
Epliesians. The goddess of the Christians was greater
than Diana, her name was mightier than any of the
heathen gods, and all the wonders of the ancient world
were to be put into the shade by the buildings that would
be raised by her worshippers. Even the old goldsmiths
who demonstrated against Paul would have felt com-
forted could they have survived until the Council at
Ephesus. The manufacture of small temple models,
indeed, gained no fresh importance, but it soon appeared
that the Christian cult gave a far better support to art
and craftmanship than the heathen religions. The
struggles that arose over the theotokos dogma immedi-
ately had a stimulating effect on aesthetic production.
Pictures were made of the Madonna, in order thereby
to confess that Mary had not been an ordinary human
being, but a woman who had borne God in her body.
Every one who wished to show his hatred for the defeated
heresy procured a statue or an image of the Holy Mother
with the Child at her breast. The form of the Madonna
was introduced in painting or mosaic on the walls of the
church, her likeness was set up in men's homes, and
her picture was embroidered on garments and used to
decorate furniture. 23 If we compare the rich production
of pictures of the Madonna, which dates from after the
middle of the fifth century, with the poor output of
the earlier centuries, we can understand why many
investigators consider the year 431 as the birth-year of
the representations of Mary in art. Such a conception,
however, is too much of a generalisation, and can easily
be overthrown by referring to the particular portrayals
of the Holy Virgin which are met with even in the
earliest Christian art. It seems probable, on the other
hand, that the Madonna pictures were generally wor-
shipped as objects of the cult only after 43 1. 24
192 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
In the history of literature and poetry, the Council
of Ephesus marks no decisive epoch. As mentioned
above, Mary was glorified in speech and writing as a
Mother of God even during the fourth century. The
fact, however, that the theot6kos dogma was determined
as the Church's universal doctrine, caused Mary's physi-
cal connection with the Divinity to be emphasised in
liturgical poetry and in sermons more than ever before.
And the confessional aim led to a preference for the
use of just those expressions and similes against which
Nestorius had directed his criticism. The thought that
a created being had borne its own Creator and that an
earthly virgin had enclosed in her womb Him who was
greater than the worlds, was thus varied in numberless
repetitions.
The ideas included in the dogmas as to Mary's
fundamental characteristics can be worked out and
added to indefinitely. Devotional literature has found
in them a subject which right up to recent centuries
showed itself as attractive as it was profitable. Any
essentially new conceptions, however, could not be intro-
duced into the doctrine as it was fixed during the first
centuries. The theological development did not indeed
stand still. On the contrary, attempts were made, and
are still being made to-day, to strengthen logically the
ideal conceptions of a pure and holy Mother of God.
But all the fierce struggles concerning the Madonna's
nature which were fought out during the Middle Ages
and the modern period are nothing but repetitions of
that dispute which during the second century caused the
formulation of the texts of the gospels, and which during
the fifth century led to the resolutions of the Council of
Ephesus. When the final results have been attained,
x THE DOG-MA OF MAEY 193
the corollaries have only been drawn of the argumenta-
tion of earlier generations. In the course of their in-
fluence upon one another the two fundamental dogmas
have been accentuated by a more and more paradoxical
formula. Mary's absolute virginity proves her worthi-
ness to serve as a dwelling for the Highest ; while her
capacity as Mother of God presupposes her perfect
purity. With regard to the first dogma, the develop-
ment reached its culmination in the doctrine that
the Madonna was purified from sin even when in her
mother's womb. As to the second dogma, the pious are
still waiting for official sanction for their belief that
Mary's body, the tabernacle of God, was freed from
mortal laws and was taken up to heaven unchanged ;
but this belief has none the less, as will appear from
the subsequent chapters, been as important for aesthetic
life as any of the dogmas instituted and formally ratified
by the Church.
CHAPTER XI
THE GOSPEL OF MARY
So held she through her girlhood ; as it were
An angel-watered lily, that near God
Grows and is quiet.
D. G-. ROSSETTI, Mary's Girlhood.
IN the old French invocations to Mary there is a
frequently recurring expression of which we are reminded
every time we attempt to understand the treatment ot
the Virgin in art and poetry: "Marie, ocean des graces."
The virtues of the Madonna and the grace she wields
have appeared to her worshippers incomprehensibly
great. Eeligious ecstasy deprives the pious of all the
measures by which they can gauge the object of their
devotion. Therefore they cannot compare her with any-
thing less than an ocean. It is the typically Catholic
veneration that expresses itself in this rhetorical picture ;
but it is not necessary to be a Catholic, or to share the
feelings of the religious poets, in order to understand
this bold simile. Even one who examines with cold
and objectively scientific attention all the works of art
to which the cult of Mary gave form and character is
seized by an impression of standing before boundless
expanses. Mary's influence on aesthetic life and
aesthetic production that indeed is a subject vast as an
ocean. If one approaches this wide field of study as an
uninitiated stranger, one finds it as difficult at first to
194
CHAP, xi THE GOSPEL OF MARY 195
make out one's bearings as upon an open sea; and
even If one succeeds In gaining a certain bird's-eye view
of the scene, one is met by the equal difficulty of
observing a proper balance in the treatment of so
extensive a material. It will be necessary, therefore,
in the following chapters to keep a sharp eye upon our
essential purpose, so as not to be lured into delusive
byways.
A primary measure of precaution has already been
taken. From the preceding Inquiry it should be clear
that no attempt will be made to deal with the whole
of the production by which art served the purpose of
the Madonna cult. The belief of the pious in the
influence of the Virgin as an intercessor for mankind,
and that worship of Mary which is based on the
conceptions of her share in the great work of Atonement,
fall entirely outside the scope of this work. We are
concerned only with the pictorial and poetical motives
in which the thought of the Virgin Mother's purity
and sublimity have been expressed, i.e. with those
aesthetic manifestations and ideas which are derived
from the conception of Mary as a shrine for the
incarnate God. In our account of this subject, in
order to avoid a wearisome prolixity, only so many
examples will be introduced as are necessary for the
argument in each special case ; and to avoid repetitions,
the examples from art and poetry will be arranged, not
in strictly chronological order, but according to their
logical connection with one another.
In accordance with this plan, it seems most natural
to begin with the legends concerning the Madonna's life.
After the epic poems and the narrative representations
of plastic art have been treated of, no long investiga-
tion will be necessary to explain the manner in which
196 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
the conceptions of the Madonna prevail in the symbols,
allegories, and similes of lyrical poetry and devotional
art.
In the canonical narrative, as is well known, Mary's
history commences with the Annunciation. The Bible
gives us no information about her earlier life, and
her personality is characterised only in meagre traits.
Such a state of things, however, could not satisfy the
Madonna's worshippers, who demanded as complete a
knowledge as possible of her fortunes. It was quite
unavoidable, therefore, that the Mother of God, like the
less important saints, should become the subject of
many legends ; so the imagination of believers made
claims that had to be met by adding to the Bible
texts. The legends of the Madonna were still more
necessary than those of the saints, because the gospels,
even in their final edition, retained many contradic-
tions which provoked the criticism of doubters. Even
if the orthodox, as mentioned above, could themselves
be convinced by S. Luke's attempts to mask the
old traditions which lay at the root of the pedigrees,
yet there were outside the community many inquirers
who had an eye for the weak points in the sacred
history. The difficulty of finding a refutation of the
attacks of these blasphemers in the canonical gospels
has clearly contributed to the origin of the oldest
known legend of Mary: the Apocryphal, so-called
Protoevangelion, which was, as early as during the
first centuries, often quoted by the Fathers in their
contentions with unbelievers.
In the Protoevangelion, or as it is also called, the
Gospel of James, Mary is the chief character, and her
life is described in a manner designed to forestall
xi THE GOSPEL OF MAEY 197
all heathen or heretical interpretations. In order that
this history, with its emphasising of the Madonna's
perpetual virginity, might win an increased authority,
it was ascribed to James the younger i.e. to the
very Apostle whom the doubters asserted to have
been a younger son of Mary. In order, while retain-
ing the dogma of Jesus 7 supernatural birth, to pre-
serve the doctrine that he was born of David's line,
the Mother of God herself was represented as a
descendant of David a hypothesis which, we may say
in passing, has been adopted in our own days by many
Protestant theologians. Further, in order that no doubt
should exist as to the Madonna's absolute purity and
holiness, she too, it was said, was born into the world
in a manner which, if not actually supernatural, was
at any rate unusual and supernormal. After the model
of the Old Testament stories and of the narrative of
John the Baptist's family, Mary was made the child
of a mother who throughout her earlier life had been
barren. As a correspondence to Zacharias and Eliza-
beth, Joachim and Anna were introduced: a pious
couple who grieved over their childlessness and finally
received, through messenger angels, the promise of the
birth of a holy child. Like the parents of Samuel,
Samson and John, Joachim and Anna dedicate their
child to God's service. Mary becomes a female
Nazarite, who takes the vow of chastity for the whole
of her life, and her marriage with Joseph is made out
to be a feigned marriage which cannot give rise to
doubts of her virginity.
Such is the general tendency of the book which is
the fundamental writing of the Catholic cult of Mary.
Although the Protoevangile has never been officially
recognised by the Church, it has often been quoted by
198 THE SACBED SHRINE CHAP.
the side" of the New Testament narratives. Special
Church festivals have even been instituted to com-
memorate events which are mentioned only in this
Apocryphal gospel of Mary. As regards art and poetry,
" James's " history of the Mother of God has literally
been a canonical writing. Daring the Middle Ages it
was the basis of numerous metrical lives of Mary, and
it afforded material for the series of pictures of the
Madonna's history which were so often represented in
painting and sculpture during the Middle Ages and
Renaissance. It is the Protoevangile, therefore, which
should form a natural starting-point for every portrayal
of the Holy Virgin's life ; * and there is all the more
reason for giving a detailed account of this writing,
because the oldest legend of Mary's life is none too
well known in Protestant countries.
" James's narrative of the birth of God's most holy
mother Mary " begins with a little family romance con-
cerning the Virgin's parents. We learn that Joachim,
who is to be her father, is a wealthy and respected man,
who generously shares his superfluous riches with the
poor. He has been accustomed, over and above that
part which he was compelled by law to offer in the
Temple, to give a part to God as penance for his sins,
and a part to the people. By reason of his piety
and his rank he has also so it would appear from
the text, which is here obscure in its brevity the
privilege of offering his gift before anybody else. 2 On
one occasion, however, when on the Lord's Day he
enters the Temple to make his offering, he is pushed
aside by "Reuben," who considers that Joachim has no
right to enjoy any kind of precedence. This Reuben,
of whom no further details are given, is probably a
Jewish father who can boast of a numerous family, 3
xi THE GOSPEL OF MAKY 199
for it is said that he looks Joachim in the face, and
contemptuously addresses him as the man "who had
not given any offspring to Israel." The scorn which,
according to Jewish ideas, was implied by such an
accusation sinks deep into the pious man. 4 When,
further, after having consulted the nation's registers, he
finds that he is actually alone in not having "given
any offspring to Israel," he is seized with a bitter
sorrow. The only thing that can comfort him is the
thought of Abraham, to whom God sent a son even
in his ripe old age. He resolves, therefore, to seek
help from the Lord, in order, if possible, still to be
delivered from the dishonour that oppresses him.
Without even taking leave of his wife, he withdraws
to the desert to fast for forty days, and he makes
a vow : " I will not go down from this mountain, nor
take any food or drink, before the Lord my God hath
visited me, and prayers shall be my food and drink."
In Joachim's home, however, his wife Anna has
waited in vain for his return from the Temple. She
does not know whither he has gone, and she thinks she
has lost him for ever. She does not grieve only for the
absence of her husband ; she is a Jewish woman, and
therefore she laments in a twofold song of mourning :
Bewail must I my widowhood,
And bewail must I my childlessness.
By this lamentation, however, she breaks " the Lord's
day," which ought to be celebrated by happy thoughts, 5
and when Judith, her servant, tries to cheer her she
only answers with bitter words. Then Judith turns
upon her with the same reproach that Eeuben had
directed against Joachim : " Why should I wish you
any evil for not listening to my words, since the Lord
200 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
Himself hath closed thy womb and not given thee any
offspring in Israel ? "
The correspondence in the stories of the husband
and wife is complete. Anna, too, is grieved at heart
when she is reminded of her barrenness, and she, too,
finds her only comfort in the thought of the old parents
in the patriarchal history who were freed from the
shame of childlessness in their old age. Heavy as her
heart is, she dresses herself out of respect for the holy
day? in her bridal dress, and washes her head and
goes for a walk in the garden. With a direct appeal to
the miracle which God had once before allowed to take
place, she beseeches Him for the good fortune she has
so long had to dispense with. "Hear my prayer! As
Thou didst bless Sarah's womb and send her a son Isaac."
But the prayer gives her no relief, for everything she
sees around her reminds her only of her humiliation. In
the laurel tree above her head some sparrows chirp in their
nest, and the earth is filled with the abundant fruitful-
ness of beasts and plants. Anna cannot endure all these
impressions, and bursts out into a bitter song of lamenta-
tion. She has been born, she sings, for a curse in Israel,
she who cannot even be compared with the birds of the
air or the beasts of the field. She alone is unfruitful,
while both the land and the water bring forth their
fruit in due season, and praise the Lord.
At this point the narrative, without any warning,
takes quite a different colouring. An angel appears
and proclaims that Anna shall bear a child who shall
be known throughout the world. Anna answers with a
promise that her child shall be offered as a gift to God,
and that she will perform a holy service to Him all the
days of her life. After the angel some earthly
messengers enter to announce Joachim's return ; for
xi THE GOSPEL OF MAEY 201
he, too, has learned through an angelic vision that his
prayer has been heard. He hastens home with new
offerings from the mountain : ten pure and spotless
lambs for God's Temple, twelve fat calves for the priests
and the elders, and a hundred goats for the rest of the
people. When he approaches with his herds, Anna
stands at the door to meet him. She ran towards him,
the story goes, fell upon his neck, and said : " Now I
know that God, My Lord, hath richly blessed me. For
lo ! the widow is no more a widow, and I that was
childless shall bear a child." Joachim spends the first
day resting at his house. The next day he drives his
offerings to the Temple, and there, by seeing the token
on the priest's frontal, gains a renewed confirmation
that his shame has been removed and that his gift is
acceptable. 6
When the time is accomplished, Anna brings forth
her child. Although, according to the Jewish idea, she
had reason to lament that this child was not a son, she
thankfully praises God for His gift : " My soul does
magnify the Lord." T When the appointed days were
ended, Anna washed herself and gave the child the
breast and named it Mary. That is all that the Gospel
of James tells us about the birth of the Virgin.
The little child grows up, however, and even in
earliest childhood proves that it is unlike other children.
When Mary was six months old, the story runs, her
mother put her on the ground to see if her limbs would
support her, and the girl, who was as precocious as
Buddha and Osiris, not only stood upright, but took
seven steps and then returned to Anna's bosom. 8 Then
her mother lifted her up and vowed : " As the Lord
liveth, Mary shall not touch earth again until she has
been taken to the sacred precincts of the Temple/' It
202 THE SACEED SHEEN"! CHAP.
is the ascetic idea of purity which appears here, and
which from this moment becomes more and more
prominent in the narrative. In fact, at the age of six
months Mary becomes a little cloister maiden, who lives
apart from the world's pollution. For Anna prepared
her bed-chamber as a holy place, sheltered from any-
thing low or unclean, and she called to her the
spotless daughters of the Hebrews to preside over the
child's recreation. In their company Mary spends her
early years. Only once, it seems, did she leave her
little sacrarium. When her first birthday was cele-
brated, Joachim made a great banquet, to which he
invited the " priests and the scribes and the elders and
the whole people of Israel," and he brought Mary to
the priests and high priests, who blessed her with the
highest blessing, than which there is none higher. Then
Anna carried the child back to its holy room, gave it
the breast, and sang a song of praise to God who had
taken away her humiliation. With triumphant pride
she addressed him who had scorned her husband :
" Who announces to Reuben's sons that Anna feeds a
child at her breast, hear, hear ! ye twelve tribes, that
Anna suckles a child."
When Mary grew older, her parents had to fulfil the
promise which had first been given at Anna's annuncia-
tion. Joachim wishes to transfer the child to the Temple
when she is only two years old, but Anna urges a
year's postponement, in order that the little one may
not long for her father and mother. When this time
has gone by, Mary leaves her home for ever, accom-
panied by her parents and playfellows. These latter,
at Joachim's direction, walk before her with lighted
torches, that she may not turn out of the path or
be attracted away from the Temple. The old man's
xi THE GOSPEL OF MAEY 203
anxiety, however, lias apparently been superfluous, for
when the child reaches the Temple, she goes of her
own accord into the holy rooms. The priest, it is said,
received her with blessings, kissed her, and let her sit
on the third step of the altar. " And then God poured
out His grace over Mary, so that she danced in on her
little feet and all the people of Israel loved the child.
And her parents went home full of wonder and thankful-
ness to God that the child had not turned after them.
But Mary grew up in the Temple of the Lord like a
pecking dove and received her food from the angels'
hands."
We see how the cathartic ideas influence every
detail in the story of Mary's life. The pure being who
lived in a pure room must not be defiled by any earthly
food. Only the manna which was made in heaven, and
was the food of angels, might enter the body that was
to be the dwelling for God. Thus both physically and
spiritually the Holy Virgin is separated from all other
created beings.
In this connection, however, the author of James's
Gospel is guilty of something that may be regarded as
at least an inconsistency. However spotless the chosen
one may have been, no exception was made on her
account to the rule which forbade all full-grown women
to be seen within the holy Temple walls. It was perhaps
due to an oversight that Mary was not represented as
freed from the " impurity " of her sex, but we can also
imagine that the priests were considered to have been
ignorant of her absolute virginity. However we like
to explain it, the gospel expressly states that when
Mary was twelve years old the priests took counsel as
to what course they should adopt " in order that she
should not defile God's sanctuary." It was decided that
204 THE SACEED SHBIFE CHAP.
the High Priest should pray for Mary in the Holy of
holies and await a revelation from the Highest. And
the Lord made known His will : all widowers were to be
summoned to the Temple, each bringing with him a
staff, and he on whose staff a sign appeared was to
have Mary to wife. The Virgin's husband, i.e. the
warder of God's new tabernacle, would thus be selected
by a choice similar to that which led to Aaron becoming
Israel's high priest (Numbers xvii.).
When the heralds go through the land with bassoons
to summon the widowers, the aged Joseph throws down
Ms axe and hastens to the Temple. 9 He is the last
to receive his staff back from the High Priest, but
when he takes the staff, a dove flies out of it, and
settles upon his head. The judgment of God has
decided that he shall take the Lord's virgin into his
charge. He excuses himself, indeed, by referring to
his advanced age, which would render him ridiculous as
the husband of so young a wife; but the High Priest
does not admit of evasions, and Joseph submits to the
oracle and takes Mary with him from the Temple.
Characteristically enough, he none the less regards his
duty so lightly that he immediately returns to his
building work and leaves his young ward alone in the
house. " God will protect thee while I am away," he
says to her at parting.
Mary's connection with the Temple was not ended,
however, by her marriage. The priests resolved to
have a new curtain made for the sanctuary, and this
work, according to the author of James's Gospel, was to
be carried out by unspotted daughters of David's line.
When the priests tried to make up the necessary
number of spinners, they remembered Joseph's young
wife, "who was pure before God." It is here that the
xi THE GOSPEL OF MAET 205
Apocryphal narrator Introduces his mention of Mary's
royal descent. The Virgin presents herself in the
Temple with the other daughters of David, to receive
her share of the work. The scarlet and the fine purple
threads fall to her lot. She does not work, however,
with the other women, but takes the material with her
to her home ; and it is while she is engaged upon this
church work that she receives the Annunciation.
" James/' however, with his love of angelic visions,
was not content with one annunciation. Mary receives
her first tidings one day when she went to the well to
fetch water. She does not indeed meet an angel, but
she hears a voice saying, " Hail to thee, gracious one,
the Lord is with thee ! Blessed art thou among
women/' "And she looked to the right and to the
left, to see where the voice came from, and went
trembling into the house, and put the vessel away from
her, and sat down to spin her purple " ; and when she
had spun the distaff out, an angel appeared to her and
announced the great tidings. His greeting corresponds
in the main with S. Luke's story. The only noteworthy
difference is that according to James it is the word of
the Almighty which will bring about the miraculous
conception. And Mary answers Gabriel with words
which constitute a slight yet significant variation of
the New Testament's text, " Behold the handmaid of
the Lord before Him, be it unto me as thou sayest."
It seems as if it was desired to emphasise the Madonna's
dignity by pointing out that only before the Highest
need she bow as a handmaid. 10
After the chapter on the Annunciation, the Proto-
evangile follows in the tracks of the canonical narrative.
Between the angel's greeting and the visit to Elizabeth,
however, an episode has been inserted relating how
206 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
Mary leaves her finished work with the High Priest,
and is then, for the third time, blessed by him. She
stays three months with Elizabeth, and afterwards
secludes herself in her home, to conceal her condition
from the children of Israel. Mary, it is said, is sixteen
years old when these mysterious events take place.
At this time Joseph returns from his building work.
His despair and indignation when he sees how little
Mary has been able to take care of herself during his
absence are described in much greater detail than in the
canonical narrative. He dare not believe in the Virgin's
assurances of her innocence, but, on the other hand, he
does not wish to expose her to the condemnation of the
Israelites as an adulteress. If what she bears in her
womb really came from the angels, and she was never-
theless handed over to justice, the blood of an innocent
person would be upon his head. The safest plan,
therefore, would be to separate himself secretly from
Mary. As in S. Matthew's Gospel, however, Joseph is
enlightened by an angel vision that it is by the prompt-
ing of the Holy Spirit that his ward is about to become
a mother. When he has thus become convinced of
Mary's virtue, it yet remains for husband and wife to
justify themselves before the Temple folk, for accord-
ing to the Protoevangile, it was only a formal marriage
which united Joseph and Mary. 11 The priests demand
to receive the Virgin back just as Joseph had taken her
from the Lord's Temple, and they bitterly reproach
Mary for having degraded her soul and forgotten her
God, " she who had been brought up in the Holy of
holies, and received her food from the hand of angels,
and danced before God and heard His praises." 12 By
submitting to and successfully undergoing the prescribed
ordeal the drinking of cursed water Joseph and Mary
xi THE GOSPEL OF MAEY 207
are released from condemnation, although it does not
clearly appear from the narrative If the priests and
people were really convinced of their innocence.
The journey to Bethlehem is accounted for and
described in the Protoevangile in the same way as in
S. Luke's Gospel The Apocryphal narrative is merely
more detailed than the canonical texts. "We see how
Joseph saddles his ass and lets Mary ride it. One of
his sons leads the animal, while the father walks along-
side. During this journey a miraculous sign appears,
by which, as is so often the case in the legends, the
later events of the sacred story are indicated to any
one who understands how to interpret the omens.
When Joseph, the story runs, looked up at Mary on one
occasion, he saw that her face was sorrowful, and he
thought sympathetically that she was pained by what
she carried in her womb ; but when he turned round
a moment later she was glad and smiling. Mary herself
explains this enigma to him. It was not, thus we must
understand the story, any physical sensations that hurt
her, who "should not give birth as other women." 13
Her sorrow and her joy originated in a presentiment of
all that must happen when her Child has been born, and
when for His sake the world has been divided into two
opposing camps. For, she says, referring to the story of
Rebecca in the book of Moses (Gen. xxv. 22), " I see two
peoples with my eyes the one is full of lamentation and
mourning, and the other is full of joy and gladness."
According to the Protoevangile the travellers do not
reach Bethlehem before the Child is born. In the midst
of the journey Joseph is compelled to lift Mary down
from the ass, and look for a place to shelter her. He
finds a cave into which he leads his charge, and there
he leaves her in the care of his sons. He himself goes
208 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
out to seek help in the neighbourhood of Bethlehem,
and while he is away the great wonder takes place. The
whole of nature is arrested in its course, when God is
born as a man. " I saw,' 7 says Joseph for in this chapter
he is abruptly introduced as the narrator "that the
vault of heaven stood still, and the birds were motion-
less. Some workmen who had gathered around a dish
for their evening meal were checked in their occupation,
and gazed petrified towards heaven. The flocks of
sheep that were being driven did not stir a step, and
the shepherd, who raised his hand to strike them, stood
fixed in his threatening attitude till, in a moment,
everything resumed its natural course." Thereupon
Joseph meets a midwife coming down from the moun-
tain, and he tells her of his young bride who has become
a mother through the workings of the Holy Spirit.
Then she asks, Is that true ? He answers, Come and
see. When they have reached the place where he left
Mary, the cave is overshadowed by a bright cloud.
The woman believes in the miracle, and understands
that it is Israel's Saviour who has been born. " In the
same moment," thus Joseph continues his tale, " the
cloud disappeared from the cave and a great light shone
forth, so strong that our eyes could not bear it; and
after a while this light too disappeared, whereupon the
Child became visible, and it came and took its mother
Mary's breast." But the pious woman praised the day
which had let her see the great miracle.
In contrast with this woman, who is probably
designed to be a type or symbol of pious humanity
she questions, indeed, but lets herself be instructed
by the sign the Protoevangile has introduced a repre-
sentative of sceptical unbelief. Salome, an Israelite
midwife, meets the believing woman, who is wandering
xi THE GOSPEL OF MABY 209
home from Mary's grotto. When she hears from her
that a virgin has borne a child, she answers, " As truly
as my G-od liveth, unless I have examined her, I will
not believe that a virgin can have a child/ 7 Like
the Apostle Thomas, she will not be convinced by
anything but by the witness of her own hands. Her
pusillanimous doubt is punished ; the hand which dared
to probe what she ought to have believed without
proof is paralysed and withered at the same moment
as she is convinced of the miracle. But when doubt
confesses its error, the sin can be forgiven and the
penalty removed. Therefore we are told that Salome's
hand regained its power of motion when, on the advice
of an angel who revealed himself in the cave, she lifted
the Divine Child upon her arm and worshipped it in
faithful devotion. That "James," in this episode,
desired to attack the theoretical theologians of the
time is clear from the words he makes Salome speak
when she proceeds to examine the Virgin Mother ;
" Prepare thyself, it is no small struggle that awaits
thee." The word struggle, as A. Meyer has pointed out,
can only refer to the struggle which the dogmatists
fought out over the question of Mary's virginity. 14
In the chapter on the worship of the Magi, the Proto-
evangile does not depart in essentials from Matthew's
account. The only notable difference is that the homage
does not take place in a stable at Bethlehem, but in the
cave where the Child was born. The manger is men-
tioned later, for it is said that Mary, in order to conceal
the Child from Herod's emissaries, wraps it in linen and
places it in " an ox's manger." The God-man escapes
the danger, but Herod's persecution is turned instead
upon the little John, in whose person he fears the pre-
dicted King of Israel. By a miracle Elizabeth and her
210 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
child are also delivered, for a mountain opens in order
to Mde them ; but Zacharias is murdered in the Temple
to satisfy the despot's vengeance.
This abridged review, in which we have striven as
far as possible to employ the expressions of the anony-
mous narrator, is based upon a translation of the oldest
known edition of the Gospel of James. The original is
a Greek manuscript written by some pious but unlearned
man, who gives himself out to be a Jewish Christian.
That he did not, however, himself belong to the chosen
people appears from Ms palpable ignorance of the geo-
graphy of Palestine, and from the mistakes of which he
is guilty in his description of the Jewish Temple cere-
monies. 15 On the other hand, it is clear that he has
a familiar knowledge of Hebrew literature, for Old
Testament models can be detected in every chapter of
his book, 16 and a purely Jewish atmosphere lends poetry
to his treatment of the romance of Joachim and Anna.
By the side of these Hebraic elements there are some
features which testify to an acquaintance with the life of
the classical nations. The celebration of birthdays was
unknown among the Jews and the earliest Christians,
but common among the Eomans. No pure virgins lived
in the Temple at Jerusalem, but the Egyptians had their
priestesses of Isis, and the Romans their vestals. 17 The
stories of Mary's precocity and of the birth of the Divine
Child in a rock cave were probably based on old heathen
myths. That Nature, again, is arrested in her course at
a critical event is a common motive in folklore, which is
well known to all students of popular legends. 18 It was
thus from many different sources that the anonymous
author, with none too great discrimination, collected
the material for his story; but he understood how to
xi THE GOSPEL OF MAEY 211
make use of all the various elements for Ms purpose.
Every feature in the narrative serves to emphasise just
those qualities of the Virgin Mother which his oppo-
nents wished to deny. Naive and fantastic as the
Gospel of James is, it is at the same time an effectively
calculated piece of polemic writing. It was and remained
an invaluable weapon in the dogmatic discussions as to
the nature of the Madonna.
It is, indeed, from the dogmatic literature that we
have to seek information as to the date of the writing.
According to A. Meyer, James's narrative is quoted by
the Fathers from the close of the fourth century. Even
in so early an author as Origen, we find quotations from
a certain " Book of James/' the tendency of which seems
to have corresponded with that of the Protoevangile.
Justin Martyr, again, brings forward certain information
and arguments which recur in the Apocryphal legend.
This circumstance does not, of course, justify the assertion
that the writing had appeared in its final shape in his
time, or even in that of Origen, but it proves that legends
concerning Mary circulated among the faithful at the
beginning of the second century. 19 It must be left to
experts to decide at what moment these legends were
fitted together to form the gospel which bears James's
name. Here we have only to mention that even the
earliest edition of the Apocryphal writing is evidently
composed of various older constituent parts. The
narratives of Zacharias and Elizabeth, which close the
gospel, are thus thought to spring from a special cycle
of legends, some fragments of which have been inserted
in the Mary history proper. In this history, again,
attempts have been made to distinguish two parallel
legends, one of which portrayed Mary primarily as a
Temple virgin, while the other above all accentuated
212 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
her royal origin. The junction of these two legends
may be discerned., we are told, In the chapter which
tells how, when Joseph left his home, Mary receives the
commission to work the Temple curtain. 20 The twofold
Annunciation is explained by the fact that these two
separate narratives have been fused into one, 21 and the
same circumstance further explains the curious state-
ment that Mary was sixteen years old when Joseph
returned from his building work, although she was only
twelve when he left her. Even if we cared to entertain
the improbable assumption that the worthy carpenter
abandoned his charge for so long a time, yet it would dn
any case be strange that James should not have more to
tell us about Mary's life during these four years.
More important than the pre-history of the Proto-
evangile, which can only be built up by an examination
of the oldest manuscripts, is the history of this book. We
know that the narratives of Mary's birth, childhood, and
marriage were early disseminated in the Eastern Church
in Syrian, Armenian, and Arabic translations. The
miracles were magnified and embroidered in new varia-
tions, some of which are so sharply separated from the
original text that they must be regarded as new and
independent works. In this way arose the Latin gospel
ofpseudo Matthew, from the period between the fifth
and sixth century ; the Arabic gospel of the Saviour's
childhood from the seventh century ; the Latin gospel of
Mary's birth, which is considered to be still younger than
the last-named writing ; and the Coptic legend of Joseph
the carpenter from the fourth century. 22 When, during
the latter Middle Ages, poetry began to treat religious
subjects in modern languages, the old narrative became
the subject of further reconstruction ; and it gained a
new and concrete expression, and an increased power
xi THE GOSPEL OF MAEY 213
over the minds of the faithful, through being illustrated
in devotional books and on the walls of churches. Thus
there developed from the Gospel of James a pious
romance, which was composed and completed during
centuries and was illustrated by the foremost artists of
the Catholic Church.
It is this romance which will be treated chapter by
chapter in what follows. The different garbings of the
old legend will afterwards be noticed in our account of
the representations of the story of Mary in art and
poetry. In examining these aesthetic manifestations
we shall also have an opportunity of giving an account
of the pious tales which were written to complete the
Bible narrative of the later events in the Virgin's life.
CHAPTER XII
MARY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA
Bi contro a Pietro vedi seder Anna,
Tanto contenta di mirar sna figlia,
Che non muove occhio per cantare osanna.
DANTE, Paradise, xxxii.
are told in S. Luke's G-ospel that Mary, when she
received the greeting from the messenger angel, asked :
" How shall this be, seeing I know not a man ? n The
Virgin did not doubt, say the commentators, for she
could not be guilty of any weakness in her faith ; but
quite humbly she uttered her surprise at a miracle which
she could not yet understand. 1 The aagel, again, recog-
nised the justness of her astonishment, and willingly
answered her question. The Holy Spirit should come
over Mary, and the power of the Highest should over-
shadow her ; and by way of further explanation he
added : " And, behold, thy cousin Elizabeth, she hath
also conceived a son in her old age : and this is the sixth
month with her, who was called barren. For with G-od
nothing shall be impossible."
That a barren woman might conceive a child in her old
age was not, indeed, so incomprehensible as that a virgin
should give birth without having known a man ; but
the lesser miracle paved the way for the greater, and, so
to speak, gave a justification for it. Any one who was
persuaded by Elizabeth's motherhood that for God
214
OH. XH MABY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 215
nothing was impossible could more easily believe that
Mary had been overshadowed by the Highest Himself.
The tardy fraitfulness of her old kinswoman would
strengthen the Virgin's certainty that she had "found
favour before God." Thus S. Luke represents the events
at the Annunciation, but it is quite possible that by
letting the angel recount the history of Elizabeth he
also desired to combat the doubts which might arise
among the readers of his own narrative.
The authors of the Apocryphal legends make use of
such argumentation to a still greater extent According
to their account, the miracle of Jesus' birth had already
been prepared for by His mother's birth. "James/'
indeed, does not give any particulars as to the ages of
Anna and Joachim, but it seems more than probable
that these two, who had given up all hope of having
children, were old, like Zacharias and Elizabeth. In the
Apocryphal Evangelium de nativitate Marian, it is
even expressly said that Anna had been married twenty
years before the birth of Mary, 2 and the artistic com-
positions agree with the religious poems in representing
the Virgin's parents as aged. Nature had thus, according
to the pious conception, departed from her ordinary
course when the Mother of God elect was brought into
the world. The supernatural fruitfalness was to a certain
extent explained through its happening to a house where
unusual conceptions characterised the family. But this
was not all. By the extraordinary circumstances of her
birth, Mary was placed on a par with some of the most
famous characters in Hebrew history.
Isaac, to wit, had been born of a woman who had
reached so advanced an age that she herself doubted
the prophecy concerning her motherhood (Gen. xvii.-
xviii). Manoa's wife was sterile, and, like Mary and
216 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
Anna, she had received through an angelic vision the
promise of the birth of her son Samson (Judges xiii.).
Finally, the story of Samuel's parents resembles that of
Joachim and Anna, as only a model can resemble a faith-
ful copy (1 Sam. L-ii.). 3 Thus, Israel's wise judge, one
of its patriarchs, and its national hero had all been born,
if not by a miracle, at any rate by an exception from the
ordinary course of events. They, and Mary with them,
had partaken of that distinction which popular imagina-
tion so often ascribes to its favourite figures ; for,
according to a common superstition which is visible in
many well-known legends, the heroes and the great
prophets are from their very origin independent of
natural laws. 4 That life had set aside its ordinary con-
ditions for Mary's sake, and allowed an old and barren
woman to bear a child, must therefore have been con-
sidered a confirmation of her greatness. 5
The advanced age at which Joachim and Anna
became parents might, however, influence the idea of
the Madonna's personality in yet another way. It must
have been easy to assume that the old couple could no
longer experience earthly love. The child born to then:
must therefore have been weighed down by original sin
to a lesser extent than other children. 6 In this way, it
may be argued, the legend of Mary's birth must have
promoted the doctrine of her original sinlessness ; and,
indeed, in mediaeval authors we often find passages in
which Mary's purity is explained by referring to the
passionless relationship between her parents. These
arguments, however, would not in themselves have
achieved real importance unless the old Gospel of
James, in another and more indirect way, had exercised
a powerful influence upon the development of the idea
of the Madonna.
xii MASTS CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 217
To explain this influence we must first observe the
cult in which the worship of Mary expressed itself. In
this case, as in so many others, it was the liturgy that
conveyed the influence of the legends to the dogmas. The
critical events related in the Protoevangile's account of
Mary's life were celebrated by the Church with special
festivals, and as some of these festivals could not be
justified by existing dogmas, new doctrines were set up
merely in order to account for them.
The oldest of the festivals which refer to the Apoc-
ryphal history is that of Mary's birthday. It is stated
by competent investigators that, as early as the sixth or
seventh century, the Eastern Church honoured the
Mother of God with a festival on her birthday. During
the course of the seventh century this festival which
was celebrated on September 8th was introduced
at Rome. Afterwards it gradually spread among the
Western communities, and in the ninth century it was
universally recognised throughout Christian Europe. 7
At first it does not seem to have aroused misgivings
among theologians. It was thought quite natural that
believers should thank God for the gift of that being
who was to be mother of the Highest Himself; but
after the dogmatists began to make the Church calendar
the object of a stricter study, it could not be concealed
that the festival of September 8th separated itself in
one important respect from all the other saints' days.
For the Christian festivals were not celebrated on the
days when the saints or martyrs entered this sinful and
impure world, but on the days when, by their death,
they were "born into Heaven." However piously a
man might have lived, yet his earthly birth was too
polluted for the community to be able to celebrate its
memory. From this rule there was only one departure ;
218 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
and that was, indeed, an exception which confirmed
the rule.
John the Baptist was the only person so highly
honoured as to have the memory of his entrance into
life celebrated. In his case, however, certain reasons
could be quoted to explain his exceptional position
among the saints. For of him the angel had pre-
dicted : " he shall be filled with the Holy G-host even
from his mother's womb" (Luke i. 16); and of him
S. Luke says in the chapter on the Visitation : " When
Elizabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the babe leaped
in her womb ; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy
Ghost" (i 41). The Saviour's forerunner, who had
been miraculously conceived by an old and barren
woman, 8 had thus received a divine sanctification in
his mother's body even before coming into contact with
the outer world. He was 7 pure when he was born, and
accordingly there was nothing incorrect in the Church's
celebration of the first day of his life. 9 It was only
right that all the other saints should give place to him
who had seen the light of day as a sinless being.
The Mother of God, however, had received her
festival day once for all, and it was difficult even for the
strictest dogmatists to deprive her of this honour. It
was simpler and more in consonance with the ideas of
the Madonna's worshippers to let the liturgy remain,
and to suit the doctrine to its needs. Indeed, there was
nothing over-bold in supposing that God gave His own
mother a part of the same intra-uterine sanctification
which had been granted to John and which had earlier
been accorded even to Jeremiah (Jeremiah i. 5). Mary,
too, it was said, had been purified when in her mother's
womb, and she too had been sinless at her birth.
S. Bernard, the Madonna's glorifier par excellence, was
xii MARY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 219
the first to bring forward this idea, and in doing so, he
quoted as a decisive proof of Mary's purity the very
festival which was celebrated on September 8th. " Her
birth," said he, " would not be the occasion for a festival
if she had not been born holy." 10
With this assertion S. Bernard completely broke with
Church tradition. However much the Virgin's virtues
had been exalted, and however definitely her freedom
from all real sin had been asserted, it had none the less
been held that it was only when God became incarnate
in her womb that she was released from original sin. 11
The new view, however, was so acceptable to the
Madonna's worshippers that before long Mary was
universally regarded as holy from her very birth. This
was the first result of the influence exercised on dog-
matic theology by the liturgy, which was based upon
the Protoevangile's narrative of Anna's miraculous
motherhood.
The old legend was, howeve? also through the
mediation of the liturgy to influence the doctrine of
the Virgin's original purity in a still more thorough
manner. Some centuries after the Madonna's birthday
was recognised in the "West, there came from the East a
new festival, which not only was an exception from the
other holy days, but actually stood in direct opposition
to the existing theological point of view. This festival
was celebrated on December 8th nine months earlier
than the sacred birthday and its purpose was to com-
memorate Mary's conception.
In ecclesiological literature we find no certain infor-
mation as to the time when the Eastern Church began
to celebrate the conception of the Virgin. This festival,
indeed, seems to have been confused by a number of
220 THE SACRED SHBINE CHAP.
authors with, the birthday, 12 which is all the more in-
telligible since, with regard to the earliest periods, the
date of neither of the two festivals can be fixed. 13
Moreover, the question has been still more involved
by reason of the fact that in a number of Eastern com-
munities the Virgin's birthday was regarded as a holy
day, on which homage was done, not only to Mary but
also to Anna. 14 The greater the importance achieved by
the Madonna cult, the more difficult it became to wor-
ship another saint on one and the same day. We may
therefore imagine it is advanced here only as an
hypothesis that out of solicitude for the rank of the
two saintly women concerned, the Church reserved a
special festival for the cult of the Virgin's mother, and
chose for it the day on which according to the Gospel
of James the barren woman had received the angel's
annunciation, and embraced her husband in the glad
knowledge that " she who was childless should bear a
child." This festival ^which, significantly enough, was
at first called " S. Anne's Conception day " 15 served
only, like Mary's annunciation feast, to give the faithful
an opportunity to express their gratitude for the miracle
which God bad permitted. To the Eastern Christians,
who had not adopted Augustine's severe doctrine of
original sin, there was no cause for misgiving in the
fact that this miracle referred to a natural and earthly
event.
Between the eighth and twelfth centuries (it is
safer not to express ourselves more definitely) the
feast of the Conception seems to have won a recognised
place in the calendar of the Eastern Church. 16 The
manner in which it was thence transferred to Europe
has not hitherto been made clear. All that we know
with certainty is that, as early as the first half of the
xii MAETS CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 221
eleventh century, the feast was celebrated In two
cloisters, at Winchester and in Canterbury Cathedral.
During the twelfth century, Abbot Anselm, who was
a nephew of the saint from Canterbury and who has
often been confused with his great namesake, came
forward as an ardent champion of the new festival,
and his efforts were crowned with such success that
a Council in London gave its official recognition to the
day of the Conception. 17 It should be mentioned, how-
ever, that Anselm's endeavours were effectually assisted
by no less a person than the Holy Virgin herself, who
on several different occasions expressed herself in favour
of the liturgical innovation.
Thus, as early as the preceding century, the pious
Abbot Elsi had been saved from great peril at sea on
promising to work for the institution of a festival of
Mary's Conception. When the storm was raging at
its worst, says the legend, and Elsi was sending up
burning prayers to Mary, he saw walking over the
waves towards the vessel a man with a reverend bear-
ing and a pontifical decoration on his head. The
stranger presented himself as a messenger from the
Queen of Heaven, and commanded on her behalf that
Elsi should every year recite in his church, on the
Conception day, the office for the birthday feast, with
this alteration, however, that the word " birth" should
everywhere be changed into the word "conception." 18
According to other legends, a sinful monk and a clerk
received from the Madonna forgiveness for their sins,
upon condition that they should celebrate her Concep-
tion day and persuade others to do so. 19
It was only natural that a festival which had
received such recommendations should spread rapidly.
Before long, Mary's Conception was celebrated in
222 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
certain churches in the north of France, and about
1128 the canons in Lyons resolved to keep December
8th as a holy day. This date is worthy of mention,
because it marks one of the most important turning-
points in the history of the doctrine of the Madonna.
As soon as the feast of the Conception had been
introduced into the Gallic liturgy, it was necessarily com-
mented upon by the scholastic theologians. Attempts
were made, as had been done earlier in the case of the
birthday feast, to work out the relation of the new
festival to dogmatic principles. The first man to under-
take such an attempt was S. Bernard, the same author
who had deduced from the celebration of September 8th
the doctrine of Mary's sanctification in the womb. On
this occasion, however, this strict theologian was not
inclined to allow the liturgy to give rise to any new
doctrines. He was a devout worshipper of Mary's
sanctity that he had shown clearly in his writings ;
but he could not approve of homage being rendered
to the Virgin at the very moment of her conception.
To make this instant the object of commemoration
was in his opinion to rebel against the Church's doc-
trine that every human being was conceived in sin.
Mary's birth was pure and worthy to be held sacred
S. Bernard inculcated this dogma now as before
because the stain of original sin had been removed from
her before she came into the world ; but she could not
have been sanctified before the conception, because
she did not then exist, nor during the conception,
because this was in itself sinful. The Conception
festival, therefore, was in conflict with the fundamental
doctrines of religion, and an enlightened Church, such
as that at Lyons, ought not to have followed the
example of certain ignorant and superstitious com-
xii MARY'S CONCEPTION" SAINT ANNA 223
munities by celebrating a feast of this kind. Suck was
the tenor of an indignant letter which S. Bernard
sent to the canons at Lyons, after learning that they
had begun to keep December 8th as a holy day of the
Church. 20
It seems as if S. Bernard thought he could kill the
new festival by a reductio ad absurdum. He could not
imagine, it seems, that people had taken into account
all the dogmatic consequences to which the celebration
of the Conception day might lead. It is indeed prob-
able that many pious Christians were first aroused by
Bernard's letter to the consciousness that they were
setting themselves in conflict with the Church's doctrine
of original sin every time they glorified the Madonna's
conception ; but when they were informed of this, they
were by no means willing to give up the popular feast.
Bernard had overlooked the fact that a cult-form may
be reduced ad absurdum, but may flourish none the less.
His plea led, therefore, to a repetition of the same
phenomenon which can be observed during every stage
of the history of the worship of Mary. The doctrine
grew stronger under its vindication against those who
attacked it, and the protests of the traditional dog-
matism merely served to expose the old dogmas. If, it
was argued, the celebration of the Conception festival
implied that a conception could be regarded as sinless,
then that of Mary was free from sin. Herewith the
worship of G-od's tabernacle had reached its extreme
consequence. The covering of the Highest was not
even in its origin soiled by any earthly stain, and Mary
was regarded as pure, not only from her birth, but from
the first moment of her existence in the womb.
This idea, however, could not be advanced as a
mere postulate. It must have a theological explana-
224 THE SACEED SHEIK'S CHAP.
tion to bring It into harmony with the Church's point
of view, 21 and a persistent fight had to be waged
against the scholastic authors who stubbornly opposed
the doctrine that an earthly being could at its very
origin be freed from inherited sin. If it had not been
o
possible to use the term " conception " in a twofold mean-
ing, the new dogma would probably never have been
recognised, for the idea that human generation had
even in a single case been sinless could not be accepted
by any orthodox and logical thinker. This was soon
realised by the champions of the new doctrine, who
were wise enough to transfer the discussion to a fresh
field. This could be done all the more easily since
mediaeval science established a distinction between
two different conceptions : a first one, in which the
foundation of the child's organism was laid; and a
second, the so-called animation, in which the soul
united itself with the embryo. In a sermon which
circulated under S. Anselm's name, but which prob-
ably dates from the time after S. Bernard's letter to
the canons at Lyons, a notable attempt was made to
utilise this physiological distinction in support of the
doctrine of the Madonna's absolute and original purity.
The unknown author, like the majority of the unlearned,
was disposed to worship both the natural and the
spiritual conception of the Virgin, but he did not
demand that his opponents should admit him to be
right in both these respects. If, he said, the Church
could not, without denying its theory of original sin,
do homage to the first conception, nothing ought to
prevent a recognition of the second moment's sanctity ;
and if it was once conceded that the physical element
had been purified before or during the instant of anima-
tion, it followed that Mary had been sinless from the
xii MABY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 225
very beginning of her existence as a human being, i.e.
as a creature with a soul, and her spiritual conception
was unstained. 22
The assertions in this sermon correspond closely to
the doctrine that was one day to be officially recognised,
but, as we know, more than 700 years passed before
the Church gave its sanction to the worship of the
" Conceptio immaculata." Even in the milder form
given by the theory of pseudo- Anselm, the dogma
met with opposition from practically all the theologians
of the Middle Ages. Alexander Hales, Bonaventura,
Albertus Magnus, and Thomas Aquinas opposed both
the festival of December 8th and the doctrines that
could be deduced from it. It is easy to understand
why the scholastic dogmatists could not be brought to
make any concessions, even by the acutest investiga-
tions of what had taken place before, during, or after
the animation of the embryo. For the doctrine of Atone-
ment and Original Sin, which had prevailed in the Church
ever since the time of Augustine, could not admit that
any creature, with the exception of the Virgin-bom
Saviour, was pure from its very origin. What settled
the question was, as has been pointed out by M. Herzog,
the substitution of Anselm of Canterbury's purely judicial
doctrine of offence and redemption for the physiological
idea of original sin which bad dominated Western theo-
o
logy for a thousand years. 23 The English Father was
thus indirectly even if in a different sense from what
was meant when he was confused with his nephew or
with the unknown pseudo- Anselm the most power-
ful promoter of the belief in the Virgin's immaculate
conception.
It was also through Anselm's disciple, Duns Scotus,
that the new dogma was brought into harmony with
226 THE SACEED SHKQTE CHAP.
the scholastic system. As it was no longer considered
so Scotus unfolded his argument that sin was some-
thing inevitably communicated at conception to every
earthly creature, i.e. something transferred in a purely
physical way from parents to children, but rather that
original sin was inherent in the soul, it was not incon-
ceivable that God had made an exception from the
general rule in favour of His own Mother. Even with
Mary redemption was necessary here an objection of
S. Thomas was confuted but in her case it had not
destroyed sin but prevented it. If the possibility of
such a preventive atonement was once admitted, every-
thing pointed to the probability of its having been
granted to her who was and must be purer than any
other earthly being.
The arguments of Scotus paved the way for the
Conception dogma. Many of the learned theologians,
indeed, continued to oppose it, and the Dominicans in
particular made it a point of honour to uphold the
doctrine of their master, S. Thomas ; but Duns Scotus
had his own mighty Order, the Franciscans, to back him.
With them were associated all those pious believers who
were indifferent to theological distinctions but all the
more zealous in their worship of the Madonna. This
party further gained powerful scientific support from the
University of Paris, which had at an early date embraced
the Franciscan point of view. The Popes soon found
themselves compelled to recognise officially the feast of
December 8th, and as soon as the liturgy had once been
tolerated, it was all the easier to work for a correspond-
ing dogma, against the validity of which unanswerable
theological arguments could no longer be quoted. The
earlier authors, who had opposed the Immaculate Con-
ception, were carefully " edited " and interpreted, until
xn MABY'S CONCEPTION" SAINT ANNA 227
finally all their objections were explained away. 24 The
hymns of the Eastern poets, in which Mary's pure and
immaculate motherhood was glorified, were further taken
as a proof of the Virgin's immaculate conception. All
that had been said in regard to the " active conception"
through which the Divine Child partook of human life,
was applied to the " conceptio passiva " with which
Mary's own life began. It could thus be said that it
was a time-honoured doctrine which received its con-
firmation when in 1854 the bull Ineffabilis Deus made
the Immaculate Conception a Eoman Catholic dogma,
the truth of which no one had a right to doubt. Mary's
animation thus explained the Church, following the
thesis of the pseudo-Anselm was immaculate and
pure ; but her body had been formed in a natural way
and her human conception was not holy. Such is the
import of the notable act by which Pius IX. contributed
the final word in the seven-hundred-year-old discussion
as to Mary's absolute and original purity.
The whole of the dogmatic development which has
here been summarised as shortly as possible, falls
properly within the sphere of theological history, but it
is obvious that an idea, such as that of the Madonna's
immaculate conception, must have been of eminent im-
portance as regards aesthetic life. The notion of purity
is not only a moral, but also and primarily an aesthetic
notion, and it is the idea of a necessary connection
between religious holiness and the aesthetic ideal of
purity which ultimately compelled the Madonna wor-
shippers to consider Mary as pure even in her conception.
It is, therefore, to be expected that in the manifesta-
tions of poetry and art we shall find many reflections
of the dogmatic ideas as to the Virgin's conception.
228 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
The succeeding investigations will fully confirm this
supposition.
The theological definitions, indeed, could not directly
influence aesthetic production, for they were far too
abstract and intellectualist ; but the popular fancies
which germinated from the thought of an immaculate
conception could all the better be utilised by art.
Pious devotion expressed itself, not in dogmatic ideas,
but in legends and pictures. The " simple-hearted and
ignorant," who were scoffed at in S. Bernard's letter,
would never have been able to justify their faith by
scholastic arguments, but they could clothe it instead
in a visible form which was to themselves poetically
convincing. They corrected and completed the old
traditions in order to bring them into harmony with
the claims of religious and aesthetic feeling. In this
work they were not troubled by any theological mis-
givings. Their ideas of atonement and original sin
were far too indefinite to be any hindrance to imagina-
tion, and they did not worry about the distinction be-
tween the different moments of conception. It was not
in physiological theories that they sought the explana-
tion of the Virgin's original purity, but in the popular
legend of the lives of her parents. In this legend new
motives were introduced to explain the miraculous
element in Mary's birth ; and every trait was removed
which could arouse the thought that even in the
beginning any stain had clung to her who was to
be a tabernacle of the Highest. Thus, as a parallel
to the theological edifices, a narrative of Mary's con-
ception was constructed in which everything was holy
and pure. In this narrative Anna was the protagonist.
4The ideas concerning Anna had, indeed, been inti-
mately associated from the earliest times with the
xii MABY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 229
thought of the Immaculate conception. As has already
been pointed out, it was Anna's festival which gave
rise to the first formulations of the Conception dogma.
In those districts where the agitation in favour of this
dogma was most zealous, Anna also was worshipped
with particular devotion ; 25 and during those periods
when the question of the Virgin's original purity
occupied all men's Blinds, her mother also became
the object of special attention on the part of the pious.
The appreciation of Anna's purity rose and fell with
the development of the Conception dogma. When the
earlier explanations of the conception were prevalent,
i.e. when even the " human conception " was regarded
as immaculate, the Virgin's mother was accorded a con-
siderable and, in some interpretations, even an absolute
freedom from stain. Later, when scholastic theology
formulated the dogma of the immaculate animation,
Anna necessarily lost her exceptional position among
earthly mothers, but she was still worshipped as sacred
before others, because it was in her body that the miracle
of the spiritual conception had taken place.
The simplest and most radical way of asserting
the Madonna's original purity was to make her birth as
miraculous as that of the Divine Child, i.e. to represent
her also as "conceived by the Holy Ghost." In the
Gospel of pseudo-Matthew it is even said that the angel
declared to Joachim, " thy wife has [during thy absence]
conceived a child " ; and in a variation of this text, it is
expressly said that Anna was " blessed by the Holy
Ghost." 26 This idea was naturally useful to those
authors who worked for the doctrine of the holy
family's purity. When Johann Trithemius, in his
Tractatus de laudibus sanctissime Anne, published
in 1494, glorified the pious grandmother, he used
230 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
expressions which show that, in his opinion, Anna also
was completely free from every earthly stain ; 27 and the
Neapolitan theologian, Imperiali, formulated dogmati-
cally a theory which was authoritatively condemned in
1677, and according to which Anna, like Mary, had
become a mother without having through childbirth
ceased to be a virgin. 28
This theory would undeniably have provided a simple
solution of the problem of Mary's conception, but it is
none the less easy to understand why the authorities of
the Church refused to recognise it, and why it did not
win any considerable number of adherents even among
the ignorant. It is true that by applying to the mother
all that the Bible told about the daughter, the future
temple of God could be represented as pure from its
foundation ; but this merely pushed the difficulties one
step back. Mary's organism, even if created in a super-
natural way, must at any rate have received its material
from her earthly mother, who had herself been borne in
earthly love and who, therefore, had the stain of original
sin ; and behind her stood other mothers, who had all
been conceived in sin. If it was desired to remove every-
thing impure from Mary's being, the work of purification
could not cease at any arbitrary point ; to be effectual
it must be continued through all earlier generations.
There was some amount of reason in supposing one
miracle through which a child had come into the world
without an earthly father, but if two such miracles were
once postulated, it would be necessary to assume many
more. This had been pointed out by S. Bernard,
probably with reference to theories such as Imperials,
and in this case no one could refute his argument
To avoid this long and monotonous series of similar
perpetually - repeated supernatural births, extending
xii MABY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 231
through all earlier generations, only one expedient was
conceivable : the human genealogy conld be broken
off at a convenient point in order to attach the
Virgin's race to a holy origin by a connection which
was purer than natural generation. Such an ex-
pedient was too audacious for learned theologians, but
popular imagination is not wont to hesitate in- making
use of this kind of supernaturalness. In the old
treasury of tales, stories could be found of gods and men
who had no earthly parents at all ; and by combining
these fables with the history of Mary, it should have
been possible to free the Mother of God from every
profaning contact with the fallen race. Indeed, in the
old French legend of Anna and Fanuel, an attempt
has been made to clear away all sinful ancestors from
S. Anna's pedigree. Although this attempt has by no
means been carried out consistently, it is nevertheless
worthy of consideration as an example of the pious
endeavour to rewrite the history of Mary in a romantic
spirit. 29
Curiously enough not even this legend could avoid
making the mother of Mary's race a sinful being, but
she is at any rate made as pure as an earthly creature
ever was. She is the daughter of Abraham, twelve years
old, a girl who was more beautiful than any other and
white as a hawthorn -blossom, with sweet mouth and
smiling eyes. The father of the race, again, is not a
man at all, but a tree and as such the most wonderful
that ever grew on earth. For when the gates of Eden
were closed, the legend tells us, God rooted up the tree
of knowledge and planted it in Abraham's pleasure-
garden, and He announced to Abraham that He Himself
would one day be crucified on this tree, which had
caused man's fall. Before that, however, a knight
232 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAR
should be born of the blossom, who would give life to
the virgin in whose body God should take human form.
So one day, when the young girl is wandering in her
father's garden, she plucks one of the blossoms of the
tree and smells it. No more is needed for the miracle
to take place, for she is impregnated with the scent.
Like so many other innocent women in the legends, she
is accused and condemned by the people, who doubt her
tale of the miraculous effects of the blossom ; but when
she is carried naked to the stake to be burned, the sticks
are changed into roses and lilies which cover her body,
and the flames become birds which send up sweet song.
The child who is borne by the girl grows up and
becomes a mighty king, S. Fanuel. It is he who rules
over the tree from Paradise, and with its fruits he heals
disoase and wounds among all who seek his help. 30 But
he, like his mother before him, comes to experience the
tree's miraculous fertilising power. For once, when he
cut one of its fruits, he was incautious enough to wipe
the knife on his leg. The sap impregnated Ms thigh,
which swelled up and became larger and larger until,
in " the fulness of time," the abscess opened and gave
place to a female child the child which later, after
many adventures, was to be Joachim's wife and mother
to Mary. At this point in the narrative we expect to
meet with a new miracle, by which Anna should give
life to the Holy Virgin by a miraculous conception ;
but just at the link by which Mary's birth should be
connected with the earlier supernatural productions,
the series of miracles is suddenly broken off, and the
legend shows quite unmistakably that Mary is a real
daughter of Joachim, born in his marriage with Anna. 81
The author of Le Romanz de S. Fanuel obvi-
ously did not understand how much he might have
xii MABY'S CONCEPTION SAINT AJSFNA 233
made of Ms subject. He has borrowed, perhaps from
oriental legends, the motive of the fertilising scents
and saps, and he has seen how well this motive har-
monised with the idea of a being in whose life nothing
impure might have place. None the less lie has, in con-
tinuing his history, omitted to make use of the traditions
which would have given his writing a logical consist-
ency and a coherent idea ; and, most peculiar of all, he
has chosen for this continuation one of the most realistic
variations of the tale of the marriage of Joachim and
Anna. It is true that the earlier-cited text, according
to which Mary was conceived by the Holy Ghost, forms
an exception among the legends ; but the general view of
Mary's origin corresponds far better with the doctrines
of an immaculate conception than the portrayal we
find in the story of Fanuel. If the pious bards and
artists usually represented Joachim as Mary's father,
yet they have often interpreted his fatherhood in a
spiritualised way. They have removed from the
" human conception " everything that did not harmonise
with the idea of something spotless and clean.
An example of how this idealising fiction could be
carried out was to be found in some revisions of the
narrative of the meeting of Joachim and Anna in the
G-ospel of James. In the oldest record of the Apocry-
phal legend, which was the foundation for our summary
in the preceding chapter, it is stated merely that Anna
waited for her husband at the door of their house, and
there ran to meet him and fell upon his neck. But,
according to the Historia de nativitate Mariae, Anna
is warned by the announcing angel to betake herself to
" the gate that is called the golden/' there to meet her
husband. She has a long time to wait for Joachim,
however, and even becomes despondent before she sees
234 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
him approaching with his herds. 32 In the Evangelium
de nativitate Mariae, again, the two reach the place
simultaneously, and this happens in fulfilment of an
express prophecy of the angel. " Make thyself ready/'
the angel warns Anna, "and go to Jerusalem; and
when thou hast come to the gate which is called the
golden because it is gilded this shall be to thee a
sign that thy husband, for whose safety thou art
troubled, is coming to meet thee. If this happens, then
know that what I announced to thee shall without
doubt be fulfilled." 3S
We see how the situation was made more signifi-
cant, first by the scene being laid in a public place,
near the splendid town gate, which throws its golden
shimmer over the meeting of the pair ; and, secondly,
by the fact that Joachim and Anna, without any pre-
arrangement, meet at the very place indicated by the
angel. Such a meeting is in itself a little miracle
which prepares the way for the other one foretold, that
"she who was childless should bear a child." It can
easily be understood that the pious, having once begun
to worship Mary's conception, took a further step and
made the greeting at the golden gate still more
miraculous. Previously, when with devotion they
remembered the aged woman who, full of glad hopes,
ran to meet her husband, people thought of the
promise given to Anna ; for the promise they now
substituted the fulfilment. By this alteration it was
possible, without postulating any divine origin for Mary,
to remove from her history all the markedly earthly
and human moments which did not harmonise with
the idea of her absolute purity, and the old legend
hereby received a final remodelling by which it was
brought into perfect agreement with the doctrine of the
xii MABY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 235
Immaculate Conception. The Holy Virgin, it was said,
was, indeed, born of Joachim and Anna, but she had
not been produced in the same way as other human
beings. Her spark of life was kindled in the golden
moment when Anna met her husband at the gate of
Jerusalem. She had been created, pure and immaculate,
from the kiss of two affectionate parents. 34 The con-
ception was simultaneous with the greeting, and that
which the angel had announced was fulfilled at the
moment when Anna fell upon Joachim's neck. In
some religious poems the angel was even made expressly
to prophesy this miracle also. Thus a glass painting at
S. Gervais is explained by the following device :
L'ange aussi a Adrift espleuree
Nonga qu'a la porte dore
Concepveroifc de son "bon espoux
Le fruict ealeu pardessus tout 35
It is important to familiarise ourselves with this
mystical view of the relationship between Joachim and
Anna, if we wish to understand the illustrations of the
Apocryphal narrative in pictorial art. As is well known,
the Virgin's parents attracted to a high degree the atten-
tion of religious painters. The Gospel of James, indeed,
embraces a wealth of poetical motives which in them-
selves must have exercised a powerful influence upon the
pictorial imagination, but this circumstance cannot
by itself explain why scenes from the pious tale were
so often represented in painting. The Christian artists
had not the choice of subjects in their own hands, as
their work was decided for them by those who ordered
it. 36 These, again, i.e. the churches, the monastic orders,
and the individual pious patrons, were guided not so
much by aesthetic as by dogmatic considerations. When
they desired to have their walls decorated with pictures
236 THE SACKED SHEIE"E CHAP.
from tlie history of S. Anna, this was chiefly due to the
fact that her person was then the subject of learned specu-
lation and pious devotion. In this respect Mary's parents
profited by a state of affairs that was uniquely favour-
able. For just at the time when the Protoevangile had
achieved a widespread popularity by reason of the theo-
logical discussion on the Conception doctrine, religious
painting commenced its perhaps most important period.
Thus it has happened that the legend of Joachim and
Anna furnished the motive of some of the most signifi-
cant works of the early Kenaissance.
The Apocryphal stories about this pious couple had,
indeed, been illustrated before : in the two notable
manuscripts which contain the homilies of the monk
Jacob ; in some old paintings of the eighth century in
the church of S. Paolo at Rome, which was destroyed by
fire in 1823 ; in a Greek menology of the year 1025 ;
and probably also in other compositions of which we no
longer have knowledge. 87 It is only from the thirteenth
century, however, that representations of the history
of Joachim and Anna become common. The earliest in
time, and the foremost in rank among these Renaissance
works, is the series of pictures which Giotto painted on
the walls of the Arena Chapel at Padua. No one has
attained to the dramatic power, the firm and almost
tangible visualisation, and the glory of colour with which
he gave life to the legend. All the younger painters
of Giotto's school, who portrayed the lives of Joachim
and Anna, have merely followed in their master's steps,
but there is much naive ingenuity, and many enter-
taining features also, in their method of treating the
subject. The narrative gains in intimate poetry as
soon as it is taken up by those unknown German
painters, "der Meister des Marienlebens " and his
xii MARY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANXA 237
anonymous disciples, and it finally develops Into a
monumental family romance when with a greatness
which can be compared with Giotto's, in spite of all the
dissimilarity in method it is illustrated by Albrecht
Diirer in his engraved " Marienleben."
In the majority of these series, the same situations
have been represented. Joachim's humiliation in the
Temple, and the angel's appearance to him, are met
with in nearly all the old Italian frescoes. On the other
hand, Anna's Annunciation, Joachim's journey to the
mountains and his offering at the hermit's hut, each of
which occupies its section in Giotto's series in the Arena
Chapel, have not appealed to many of the later painters.
None of them, however, has omitted to represent the
meeting at the golden gate. This motive has further
been treated in numerous single pictures, and retained
its popularity right up to the close of the sixteenth
century. It is, indeed, easy to understand why the
patrons of Church art considered the meeting of Anna
and Joachim a suitable subject for religious painting.
We should do these pious and serious men a wrong if
we believed that they allowed themselves to be guided
by merely aesthetic considerations. The artists might
value the purely pictorial possibilities of their work, but
their patrons thought first of its theological import.
For them it mattered little that all the poetry of ancient
legend had been compressed into that chapter which
describes Joachim's return with herds and herdsmen
following, and Anna's waiting for him surrounded by
her serving-women, and the affectionate greeting of
the two amidst the white woolly creatures. They did
not understand that James's narrative here takes on the
tone of an oriental pastoral, which leads the thought to
the old love-scene where Isaac, out in the fields, found
238 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
his Rebecca in the midst of camels and steep. What to
them was most important of all, and what made the motive
suitable for Church decoration, was that the meeting at
the golden gate was considered as an illustration of the
dogma of Mary's immaculate conception. 88 What was
portrayed was not an ordinary family scene, but a
miracle by which the purest of all living beings was
produced. In some cases it even happened that the
dogmatic significance of the paintings was expressly
emphasised by providing them with an inscription :
Taliter concepta est beata Maria. In other cases tho
artists themselves took care that the deeper meaning
of their compositions should be understood.
Thus it appears indubitable that it was in order to
direct attention to the miraculous conception that some
painters represented an angel bending down from heaven,
and with his hands pressing Anna's and Joachim's heads
together. Such divine assistance was more than super-
fluous, had it been only an ordinary caress that was
represented; but we can easily understand why an
angel should guide the couple to that kiss which gave
life to Mary. By this heavenly apparition, therefore, the
pious must have been reminded of the Virgin's stainless
origin when they looked at the G-iottesque frescoes in
the cloisters of Santa Maria Novella at Florence, or when
they stood before Vivarini's picture in Santa Maria
Formosa at Venice. Still more important in its religious
symbolism is a little picture in the University galleries
at Oxford, in which behind the figures of Joachim and
Anna with a little angel floating over their heads we
see a slight and almost incorporeal female figure clad in
white : the image of the virgin, say the interpreters,
who was to be born of the couple's embrace/
It is improbable that the painters, even when they
xii MARTS CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 239
neglected to suggest the great miracle by such outer
means, were unconscious of the fact that they had to
represent something more than an ordinary genre
motive. We can hardly be mistaken in supposing that
the mystical meaning of the theme influenced them to
endow their compositions with that loftiness which
continually marks the pictures of the meeting at the
golden gate. Whether Joachim takes his wife under
the chin, as is the case on the seal of the French brothers
of the conceptions, 41 or only presses her hands, as in
Benvenuto di Giovanni's predella in the Accademia at
Siena, or grasps her by the elbows or shoulders, as in
Giovanni da Milan o's and Taddeo Gaddi's compositions
in Sta. Croce at Florence, or bends forward towards her in
an embrace as in Carpaccio's picture at Venice, or kisses
her and places his cheek against hers as in Giotto's fresco
at Padua, we imagine that we see how the artists tried
to render a caress which was light and pure, but which
by reason of the unique miracle was as powerful in its
effects as the most elementary expressions of earthly
love.
That it was theological dogma which gave their
popularity to the pictures of Joachim and Anna's
meeting, also appears clearly from the fact that from
the close of the sixteenth century these pictures become
more and more rare. As has already been mentioned,
Mary's physical conception was then no longer looked
upon as holy, but the greatest weight was laid instead
upon the purity of her animation. The old and popular
view, indeed, prevailed in art a considerable time after it
had been abandoned in learned discussions ; but it proved
impossible in the long run to allow the painters to
represent an idea which was no longer recognised by
240 THE SACEED SEBINE CHAP.
dogmatic speculation. The orthodox authors of the
counter-Keformation protested with indignation, there-
fore, against the scene at the golden gate being made a
motive for devotional pictures. When Mary's immacu-
late conception was to be illustrated, the embrace of
her parents ought not, they said and it is still said
to-day to be represented, and only Mary herself, who
alone partook of miraculous purification, should be
portrayed. Mary who tramples upon the serpent's
head, or Mary who is carried by the moon or surrounded
by the sun, thus became the symbols, none too clear or
enlightening, by which the theological dogma was made
visible. 42 Anna and Joachim could no longer be brought
into direct connection with the doctrine of the Immacu-
late Conception, because their relationship was viewed
as one of marriage, in the proper meaning of the word.
As such it had, indeed, been described in many of the old
legends and poems.
If accordingly it was no longer proper to see a
miracle in the affectionate greeting of the couple, yet the
marriage of which the Virgin was the issue might still
be regarded as purer than any other earthly connection.
Piety solicited such an interpretation, and the legends
lent support to it Here, indeed, was the place to employ
that argument which has been cursorily touched upon
in the beginning of this chapter. In the case of the old
couple who had become parents by a deviation from the
ordinary course of nature, no earthly passion could be
supposed. Thus Mary's purity appeared to be fore-
shadowed, if not actually determined, by the passionless
relations of Joachim and Anna.
The most notable expression of this idea dates from
the time when the Conception doctrine had not yet
won any generally accepted recognition. In her visions,
xn MAST'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 241
S. Birgitta makes the Holy Virgin explain how she had
been conceived without sin. The manner in which the
Swedish woman, who had herself been wife and mother,
understood the union of the pious couple is so character-
istic that her words deserve to be given without abridg-
ment : " And when it had been announced to them by
the angels that they should give life to the Virgin from
whom the health of the world should come, rather
would they have died than unite in carnal love. For
lust was dead within them. And, indeed, I tell you that
they united out of pious love and in obedience to the
words of the angels, not from any lust but against their
own will in godly submission." 43
S. Birgitta was not alone in asserting that Mary's
parents obeyed the angel against their will. According
to some later authors, Joachim and Anna were so taken
up by their love of God that they could not feel any
earthly love. By one of those bold similes which occur so
frequently in religious literature, the ecstasy of their faith
is compared with Noah's intoxication, which made him
unconscious of the fact that he was embracing his
daughters. 44 More beautifully, however, and less absurdly,
the relationship is described by a prophetess of modern
times, Anna Catharina Emmerich, who in one of her
visions had a revelation of how " die heilige Jungfrau sei
in vollkommener Lauterkeit und heiligem Gehorsam
von ihren Eltern erzeugt worden, welche sodann mit
steter Enthaltung in hochster Andacht und Gottesfurcht
zusammengelebt hatten." * 5
As we see, to those who did not wish to regard her
as a virgin, Anna became an ideal type of the virtuous
wife and mother. Her marriage, it was said, was more
meritorious than virginity; for when she who would
rather have died than live in earthly love, obeyed the
242 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
angel's command, she gave an example of humble
dutifulness. S. Birgitta had learnt from the Mother of
God herself to venerate this sacrifice of Anna's. " If,"
so Mary told her in a vision concerning her parents'
marriage, " if any one wished to fast, and was ordered by
his superior to eat, and out of obedience ate against
his will such eating would be more praiseworthy than
fasting." 46 Thus Anna was a right-minded Christian
matron, who followed the commands of nature but
obeyed them only as a duty ; and to popular imagina-
tion she actually appeared as a martyr to this duty. For
it seems, indeed, as if her worshippers considered her
subserviency so praiseworthy that they could not be
content with one example of it. As if further to
emphasise her obedience, legends were written telling
how she submitted to the constraint of several new
marriages after becoming Joachim's widow. 47 These
legends, however, were calculated to appeal to pious
minds also in another respect, for if it were supposed
that Mary's mother founded several families, a certain
order could be brought into the genealogy of the holy
house. The half-brothers and sisters of the Madonna by
reason of Joachim's great age, it was difficult to suppose
that he could have been the father of many children
might have produced cousins to Jesus; and, according to
the time-honoured view, there was justification for sup-
posing that the Bible referred to cousins, when it spoke
of those " brothers of our Lord," who, as has already
been mentioned, caused the learned so much misgiving.
Therefore, James the elder and John, together with
Simeon, Judah, Joseph and James the younger, were
made out to be grandsons of S. Anna. Their mothers,
according to the legend, were two Marys, one of whom
married Zebedeus, and the other Alpheus. The latter's
xii MARY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 243
wife was tlie daughter of Anna and Cleophas, and
Zebedeus's wife was the daughter of Anna by her last
husband, who bore the name, rather unusual for a man,
of Salome. On behalf of this peculiar genealogy, with
its three daughters of one mother, all bearing the same
name, naturally no. support could be cited either in
literature or in early tradition, but none the less there
were serious Churchmen who zealously defended the
fabulous pedigree. The theologians of the Sorbonne
even declared it a heresy to doubt the doctrine of
"Anna trinuba et tripara." Anna herself, it was said,
had, in 1406, introduced in a vision all her numerous
offspring to her worshipper, S. Colette, i.e. the Belgic
nun Beata Coleta Boilet. 48
After it had thus been proved that Jesus had grown
up in a circle of numerous relations, religious painting
began to depict the holy family in its entirety, from
Anna, with her three husbands, down to James the
younger. German art particularly offers many examples
of such " Sippenbilder." 49 They are group portraits,
in which the pious cousinship has been collected in a
great family gathering. The children, as is usual in
such compositions, have their place on the floor, while
their mothers, with the tenderest infants on their laps,
sit in a row on a long bench and gravely watch the
games of the growing generation. Behind the seats, the
fathers are grouped in courteous retirement. In the
very midst, beside her daughter and her divine grand-
child, Anna, the mother of the house, the prolific German
matron, is enthroned. We imagine we are looking at a
worthy burgher family which has had its portrait taken
en groupe, for the figures are obviously painted from
models, and the dresses and furniture are rendered with
the photographic faithfulness typical of old German art.
244 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP.
The fact that the compositions illustrate the sacred story
might easily be overlooked, were it not for the quiet
and devotional expression on the faces of the uncles
and aunts. There is, however, a little detail which,
gives the attentive observer an indication of the sub-
ject of the pictures, for on the children's playthings
a prophecy of the fate they are to experience can be
deciphered. They amuse themselves indeed, according
to the manner of their age, with rattles and hobby-
horses and soap-bubbles, but at the same time they are
occupied by more serious things. James the elder, the
patron saint of all pilgrims, leans upon the staff which,
according to mediaeval legends, was to accompany him
on his long journeys. James the younger is busy with
the club which would one day kill him; and Simeon
Zelotes fingers the saw with which his body was to be
cloven, as one cleaves a board. Thus by means of their
symbolical attributes the pictures tell of the sacrifices
which the children were to make for their great kinsman,
and of the way in which Anna's family, by suffering,
was to bear witness to the divinity of Mary's Child. 50
It was, however, only during a short time that
the pictures of the " heilige Sippe " enjoyed their popu-
larity. After the first decades of the sixteenth century,
the representations of the Holy Family become more and
more rare. Theological authors now expressed their
disapproval of Anna's numerous progeny being depicted
in religious paintings. The subject was no longer
fashionable, because the dogmatists had once more
altered their views of Anna's personality. The leading
authorities gave their support to those authors who saw
something painful in the idea that the Virgin's mother
had abandoned her widowhood. In spite of the Sorbonne
and the visions of Coleta, the belief in Anna's later
xii MARTS CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 245
marriages was completely abandoned, and it was now
sought to shew that the expressions in the Bible in
regard to Mary's sisters and brothers did not in any
way conflict with the view that Anna had been married
only once. 51
The notion of the degree of Anna's pnrity has, it
seems, undergone many changes, but her sanctity has
not been dependent upon the varying theories as to the
conception. Whether Anna was regarded as a virgin,
who had been overshadowed by the Holy Ghost, or as a
mother whose only child had been produced by a kiss,
or as an honourable wife, who in earthly marriage had
given descendants to as many as three different men,
she was always worshipped as one of the very fore-
most among the Church's saints. Her cult increased
continuously during the later Middle Ages, and she was
honoured more universally than at any other time just
before the Reformation, i.e. at the very period when the
legends as to her trinubium enjoyed their greatest
popularity. It was only natural, further, that every
gain for the doctrine of the Madonna's greatness should
call forth an increased veneration for her mother. Inde-
pendently of what was thought of Anna's own history,
the mere fact that the purest being had been conceived,
or rather animated in her womb, must have conferred on
Anna a kind of secondary sanctity.
In this respect, too, the pious applied the same
concrete reasoning that has left its mark upon all
Catholic symbolism. In the Old Testament descriptions
of how God's Temple was built out of costly and pure
materials (1 Chronicles xxix.), men saw references to
Mary, who was formed without spot and grew up with-
out being even for a moment defiled by sin. 52 And if
Mary was a Temple of God, because she had borne
246 THE SACEED SHEIIO] CHAP.
the Highest in her womb, so also Anna's body was a holy
room, because in it the Virgin's shape had been formed.
She, too, was a shrine, in which precious contents had
been enclosed, and in her person, too, the shell was
sanctified by the kernel. We have only to read how
Anna is glorified in the Jungfru Marie ortagard : 53
" how great is the praise of the mother Anna, for she
is God the Father's most glorious treasure-chamber, in
which He concealed the purest and -most perfect gold
of His divinity, which is the greatest treasure of all
treasures."
This naive idea has also been expressed in pictures,
for there are works designed to illustrate the Immaculate
Conception, which represent S. Anna in such a way
that we can distinguish in her body a little embryo
with hands pressed together, and surrounded by a
glory. In a French " livre d'heures " of 1510, the artist
has even gone so far as to place Mary, bearing the
Christ child at her breast, in Anna's open womb. 54 To-
day, indeed, religious prudishness seeks to prevent such
pictures being painted and exhibited in churches, 55 but
there is no doubt that the pious often thought of
S. Anna as a casket for Mary. She was the covering of
the covering, and was less pure than her daughter, for
she stood a step farther away from the holy contents ;
but it was in any case her body which provided the
material for God's Temple. Therefore it was a natural
idea that led to her being constituted the patron saint
of the furniture-makers. Just as these used their best
skill in manufacturing the Church cabinets in which the
eucharistic God was kept, so Anna in her womb had
produced the chamber for the God incarnated in human
form. 56 We see how the shrine symbolism perpetually
pervades the religious view.
xn MARY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 247
The holiest of all contents conveys its holiness to
the body in which it has been enshrined, and accordingly
Mary's body becomes in its turn a sacred content, which
confers distinction upon its covering. In the doctrine
of her relationship to Anna, the same thoughts are
repeated which are associated with the relationship
between the Saviour and His mother. Thus Anna
becomes a kind of Madonna of the second order, to
whom a number of the Holy Virgin's functions are
transferred. Both in art and theology many curious
results are to be found of this reduplication of the
Madonna concept.
The thought has received its most noteworthy
expression in those devotional pictures which in Italian
art are called "S. Anna metterza," and in Germany
"Anna selbdritt" In these the two mothers have been
represented together with the Holy Child. In a number
of cases Anna and Mary are placed side by side, and the
infant Jesus reaches from the Virgin's bosom towards His
grandmother ; 57 but in other pictures Anna sits behind
her daughter on a higher seat, so that the composition
culminates in the aged woman's venerable form. The
second shrine stands outside the first, in an arrange-
ment which brings to mind the boxes in an oriental
box-game. The eyes of the pious spectator can turn
from the Divine Child to her who bore and gave birth
to Him, and afterwards to the being in whose womb
His mother was produced. As genealogical illustrations
these pictures are of insurpassable clearness ; from the
theological point of view they show unmistakably the
gradation in the relationship of the holy person to the
Highest, and by their way of placing the figures they
render the subordination of daughter to mother evident
to the beholder.
248 THE SACEEB SHEINE CHAP.
In this last respect, however, the compositions here
described have given rise to criticism. It is not, it has
been said, consonant with true piety that she who bore
only a human being should receive a higher place than
the Mother of G-od. On the other hand, Anna could not
be introduced between the Child and the Virgin, and the
younger woman could not be raised above the older. It
is not inconceivable, as Mrs. Jameson supposed, that it
was in order to solve this involved question of rank
that recourse was had to the expedient of letting Mary,
with Jesus, sit upon Anna's knee. 58 Such an arrange-
ment which gave rise to many grotesque pictures,
but was also the basis for that miracle of grace
and harmonious grouping created by Leonardo in his
S. Anna faithfully expresses the theological view of
the Virgin's mother. Anna bears Mary, whose figure
is often dwarfed to the proportions of a little girl, in
the same way that Mary bears Jesus ; and just as it
is through Anna that the Divine Child has His outer-
most connection with the world around, so it is in many
cases through her person that suppliants first address
themselves to the Highest. When Madonna worship
reached its culmination, it might happen that the Virgin
was regarded as too lofty for people to dare to make a
direct appeal to her. In such cases they sought in Anna
a mediator between mankind and the Madonna, and the
aged woman filled the same r61e in relation to her
daughter as did the latter in relation to Jesus. 59 It
should be mentioned, however, that the doctrine of
Anna's work of intercession never won general recogni-
tion in the Church. It did not serve any real need,
because for the majority of her worshippers Mary
retained so much humanity that they could appeal to
her with good courage in all their troubles; but this
xn MARY'S CONCEPTION SAINT ANNA 249
did not prevent Anna from continuing to be one of -the
saints most frequently invoked^ and men from appealing
to the Highest in many cases through her mediation. 60
Thus, just as Anna took over a share of Mary's
influence, so also she has borrowed many of the charac-
teristics that were especially distinctive of her daughter.
In the legends of Anna's life, which were disseminated
among the faithful during the fifteenth century, re-
flections of the old narratives of Mary's childhood can
clearly be traced. Anna, too, is described as a pure and
shy young girl, who grows up under the protection of
her pious mother Emerentia, and she, too, even during
her early years, is a model for aU Christian women.
What is related in these old and secondary stories is in
itself of considerable Interest, but it need not occupy us
in this connection. For all that has been written about
Anna's virtues is only a pale reflection of the poetry
with which the faithful have surrounded the figure of
Mary. It is Anna's rdle to serve as a preparation for
those miracles which the world was to see in Mary's
person and fortunes. About this preparation enough
has now been said, and it is time to pass over to the
story of her in whom all " types " and " examples "
were to find their fulfilment.
CHAPTEE XIII
THE CHILDHOOD OF MAKY
Maria, du jetzt em Kindlein bist,
Das sanget der heiligen Mutter Briist,
Die Kinder gern alles versclieiiken,
Drum wollest auch meiner gedenken.
Mein Groblieit, die wollest verzeihen,
Tiel Gnade dafiir mir verleihen.
PEOCOPIUS, Mariale festivals
(Des Knalen JPunderhorn).
THE old Gospel of James is, as has already been pointed
out, a didactic writing, which, to its purpose falls mainly
within the sphere of dogmatic polemics and ascetic tracts.
We can clearly, and unfortunately often only too clearly,
observe the intention that guided the author when he
composed his mosaic of Biblical texts and Eastern
legends It is difficult to attribute to him any striving
after aesthetic effect, at any rate as a conscious factor,
and whatever literary merits his work possesses are
derived in many cases from his models rather than from
his own imagination. To a great extent the same
judgment applies to the majority of the later revisions
of the Apocryphal gospel, in which the theological and
moralising element generally plays a more important part
than the narrative pure and simple. It would, however,
be none the less more than unfair to pronounce these
devotional writings destitute of all independent merit
and all aesthetic attraction.
250
CHAP. xiH CHILDHOOD OF MAEY 251
However strictly the authors might be occupied by
what they had to prove and by what they had to hold
up as examples to their readers, they could not help
being influenced by their subject. They tell their story
with an evident and contagious interest, and we see that
they themselves were carried away by the beautiful
legend. There are few of them who do not abandon
the didactic attitude when they have to describe the
youthful Virgin's grace and the charm of her being. It
seems as if the Patristic seriousness was softened and
the severe faces lit up by the smiles with which old
people regard the manifestations of young life. How-
ever severe an ascetic may have been, he could not
resist the magic with which the innocence of childhood
works its enchantment.
It was, moreover, a part of the duty of pious litera-
ture to meditate upon the Holy Virgin's childhood.
Ascetic pedagogy began with the earliest years of life,
and even at her tenderest age Mary must stand as a
model for all pious women. The more the demands of
monastic life were increased, the greater became the
need of a moral " example " in which all these demands
were fulfilled. That suggestion of priggishness which
already makes itself felt in the Protoevangile's descrip-
tion of Anna's daughter, becomes still more accentuated
in the later versions. If in the oldest legend Mary was
a kind of female counterpart to the Jewish Nazarite,
in mediaeval writings and songs she became a little
nun who instinctively adopted all the rules of the
cloister, even before they had been formulated.
The second predominant quality in the Mary type
of the Protoevangile her absolute purity was also
more and more clearly set forth by the mediaeval writers.
Just as in the Mass-ceremony the ritual cathartic was
252 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
developed at the same time as the Idea of the Sacrament's
identity with the Highest was worked out, so too the
idea of the Madonna's absolute spotlessness necessarily
acquired increased importance when men had accustomed
themselves to see God even in the child she bore and
gave birth to. Moreover, there came another influence
which caused men to work with unwearying zeal for
the idealisation of Mary. If in handling the altar imple-
ments it was necessary to ward off all profanation and
defilement threatening the Holy of holies, it was
a still more important and far more difficult duty to
preserve the purity of the living tabernacle. For
the human existence in which God and His mother
had been planted was in the Christian view more soiled
than anything else. At each step, therefore, of the
Madonna's development, it must be specially shown
how she was unlike all other women, and how she alone
was raised above the unclean race. Eeligious imagina-
tion had to create an ideal picture, which separated
itself in all its characteristics from concrete reality.
What this work implies we understand clearly, if
we acquaint ourselves with the literature in which
mediaeval asceticism's hatred of life is expressed.
Poems, sermons, and theological treatises unanimously
assert how little earthly things merit appreciation. It
is not necessary, however, to examine these writings
separately, since all that has been said in different places
as to the misery of life is insurpassably summarised
in a little book which is typical of the gloomy world-
philosophy of the Middle Ages : Innocent III.'s De
contemptu mundi. This book probably represents the
most pessimistic estimate of existence that has ever
been made. No one has dared to expose the animal
element in human existence so unmercifully as the old
xiii THE CHILDHOOD OF MAEY 253
Pope. That which appears to the "children of the
world " as the mystery of life is investigated by the
ecclesiastical critic of life with a closeness that is terrible
in its brutal realism. Love, birth, and death are pro-
cesses that are each in turn equally loathsome. The
blossoming veil,, behind which the machinery of life is
working, cannot mislead one who is at war with life, and
who will not see in it anything but its grossest basic
phenomena. Thus Innocent's looks do not rest on the
rosiness of cheeks, or the roundness of arms, or the
freshness of the skin, but only upon what is hidden
behind the fair surface ; and his outlook upon life has
not even the greatness of gloom. He does not describe
the skeleton, the dead man which we all bear within us,
and which becomes more and more prominent as its
clothing is worn away from the carcase ; but he describes
with bitter satisfaction that which is more horrible than
the skeleton, because it is alive : all the forges for
burning and decomposition which work under the
covering of the fair exterior. Man is for Mm, and for
all mediaeval moralists, a being who comes into the
world in shame and impurity, who lives amid contagion
and dirt, and who becomes only more repulsive as
he grows older. Not only is he a polluted vessel
for disgusting contents, but he also affords shelter
on his body for other unclean creatures, for vermin
and parasites, the kinds and varieties of which are
described by Innocent with a completeness which
probably exhausted mediaeval zoological science. 1
Such was, according to the ascetic view, the race
with which the Highest had to unite Himself, and such
is the life He had to experience. In contrast to this
idea, so horrible in its realism, had to be described the
woman in whose body God could take up His abode
254 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
without being defiled. It was impossible to emphasise
Mary's purity without a constant reference to that un-
cleanliness against which her figure stood out in sharply-
defined contours. Even earliest childhood, which in our
view is so innocent, was in Church theory defiled by all
the lowness of earthly life. Therefore, to convince
people of the spotlessness of the growing child, it was
necessary to dwell upon the most unimportant details
of her life, and this very striving after the greatest
possible refinement led to an indiscretion in the por-
traiture which often appears positively outrageous. The
pious authors felt secure in the consciousness that the
Madonna saw the good-will that guided their descrip-
tions, and probably they have often proffered that
excuse which one feels the need of repeating, both on
their behalf and one's own, before beginning an account
of the treatment of Mary's life in mediaeval literature :
Mein Grobheit, die wollest verzeihen.
It is only in a critical analysis, however, that the
different elements in the pious ideas as to the infant Mary
can be distinguished from one another. In the poems
and legends themselves the childlike grace, the virtues
and the purity, fuse into a poetic figure as harmoni-
ous as any creation of the free artistic imagination ; and
this figure retains its features so unchanged that all the
earlier and later versions may be regarded as variations
of the same legend. 2 Again, the illustrations of pictorial
art, as a rule, follow the narrative so closely that they
can without difficulty be treated together with the
poetical descriptions.
It is also from pictorial representations that we have
to start in our review of the Virgin's life. For unlike
the birth of Jesus, the first scene in Mary's life has not
served as the motive for any detailed literary narratives.
xin THE CHILDHOOD OF MAEY 255
From the beginning of the seventh century, indeed, a
yearly festival was celebrated in Europe in memory of
Mary's birth, with which event, in the view of the
Church, the great work of Atonement commenced. 8
Sermons and hymns expressed the joy of the community
over the birth of that being who in her virtues sur-
passed all things created. Yet in all that was said and
sung on these occasions, men confined themselves to
some rhetorical declamations about the Madonna's great-
ness. The Apocryphal gospels devoted only a very
short space to Anna's child-birth ; and the later writers
of legends do not appear to have found any occasion to
embellish this narrative with any new and noteworthy
details.
Quite different was the case with the pictorial arts.
Painters and sculptors knew well how to avail them-
selves of the profitable subject presented to them by
Anna's child -bed. Indeed, the birth of the Virgin is
a motive frequently treated in Christian art. It won its
popularity during the period when the Madonna dogmas
occupied all men's minds, i.e. during the early Renais-
sance, but the subject had been illustrated long before.
The oldest known representations are to be found in a
Greek menology of the year 1025, and in the remark-
able manuscripts containing the homilies of the monk
James, which are likewise thought to date from the
eleventh century. 4 The method of treatment naturally
varies at different times and places : from the familiar
genre of the German painters to the monumental sim-
plicity of Giotto and his pupils, and to the ceremonial
and pompous style of Ghirlandajo's frescoes. In spite of
their differences, however, all these compositions have
certain elements in common. The mother is usually
represented lying in her bed, while some serving-women
256 THE SACBED SHRINE CHAP.
or friends converse with her, and the nurses prepare
a bath for the new-born child. 5 In these respects the
disposition is quite complete in the Greek menology,
and it is even possible that, as Venturi asserts, the
composition in this manuscript is derived from still
older models, i.e. from antique reliefs representing the
birth of a child. The attendant women by Anna's bed
would correspond, according to this Interpretation, to the
three Parcae, and the nurse at the bath would be the
successor of the slave who, In heathen art- works, takes
care of the children of gods and heroes. 6
Whatever we may think of such a theory, it is certainly
remarkable that artists so often represented Mary's bath
in spite of the fact that It is not mentioned in literature.
G-rimouard de S. Laurent has even expressed a strong
disapproval of this detail in the compositions, and if
we try to place ourselves at the Catholic point of view,
we can quite understand his pious indignation. The
bath and the washing implements are, indeed, a super-
fluous, not to say an unwarranted, apparatus in Anna's
sick-room. Even if the authors did not definitely
express themselves as to the course of events at the
Virgin's birth, yet it is clear, from all they tell us of
Mary, that there cannot have been any need to purify
that being who, even in the womb, had been free from
every stain. 7 Besides, it had been revealed to S. BIrgitta
by the Saviour Himself, that His mother at her birth
was "so fair that no pollution was in her." 8 The only
motive which could be assigned for the unnecessary
purification would be that on this occasion also, as so
frequently during Mary's later life, there was a deliberate
intention to disguise her special position in creation, by
allowing her to become the object of the same treatment
as other children of men. But even such a measure of
xni THE CHILDHOOD OF MAEY 257
precaution must have been superfluous, for the absolute
purity of the Virgin had been recognised by her enemies
from the very first moment. Thus in the continuation
of the revelation just referred to, S. Birgitta tells how
the devils understood who it was that had been born :
"They looked so sorrowful and felt so unhappy that
it was as if a voice had cried from hell, saying, c A
virgin is born who is so virtuous that she surpasses
all that is created in the kingdoms of heaven and of
earth.'" 9
It cannot have been long before Mary's miraculous
qualities were revealed to others than the devils. All
the references to the first years of the Virgin, which are
to be found in the endless and highly-detailed descrip-
tions of the epic poems of Mary, testify clearly that she
was not an ordinary suckling. We are told in the Vita
Beate Virginia Marie et Salvatoris Nostri rhythmica
(from the thirteenth century) that her parents were never
disturbed in their rest by her crying or weeping, and that
her dressing never gave any trouble to her nurses, for
she was cleaner than could be believed " multo plus
quam credi possit." Walther von Eheinau who during
the fourteenth century carried out with praiseworthy
patience a poetic rendering into German of the Latin
poem expressly asserts that no stains, "gross noch
klein," were ever seen upon her clothes, either when
she was undressed to be put to bed or when she was
lifted up out of the cradle. 10 Not only was she clean
in her habits, but she was also admirable in the whole
of her behaviour. She was nourished at her mother's
breast, for, says Brother Philip, Anna was in this respect
also a pattern which all German mothers ought to
imitate ; u but Mary took her food without greediness
and her meals were never too rich. 12 Thus, even when
258 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
she was in long clothes, she knew how to exercise the
virtue of moderation.
When she had learnt to talk Mary was never
guilty of any childish and wearisome prattle, but gave
intelligent and kindly answers whenever spoken to,
and never uttered an evil word about anybody. 13 She
avoided noisy companions, like a child who understands
how to preserve its dignity. She must also have taken
great care of her little person, for it is specially stated
that her hands were white and her nails clean. 14 But
with all her eminent and intelligent precocity, she was
not one of those little pedants who have a depressing
effect on those around them. It is true that she laughed
seldom, but whenever she smiled, " the expression of
her mouth was accompanied so charmingly by that of
her eyes, that it was a joy to see her." 15 Her sympathy
made it easy for her to be sorrowful with the sorrowful,
but she could also be glad with the glad. 16 And the
mere sight of her awoke gladness, for her countenance
shone so brightly, says Gautier de Coincy, that one
could scarcely endure to see it. 17 It was, to quote the
old Swedish legend, as white as snow, and so luminous
that one could light a candle from it. 18
"When the poets of the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries thus represented Mary as a model for all
good children, they introduced into their description
many features from the ethical ideas of their own
time. What is essential in these poems, however, is
based on an ancient tradition founded by the Church
Fathers of the first centuries. Thus in his treatises on
virginity, Ambrosius describes in detail the exemplary
habits of the holy child. 19 He asserts that Mary was
sparing in her food, but lavish in pious works, and that
when at any time she had been exhausted by fasting,
xiii CHILDHOOD OF MAEY 259
she took nourishment only in order to preserve her life,
but not to satisfy her hunger. She never slept, he says,
more than was necessary, and while her body rested, her
soul was at work, repeating during sleep what she had
read, or preparing to continue, as soon as her sleep was
broken, the occupation commenced during her waking
hours. 20 She never left home except to go to church ;
she worked alone and hidden in her room; and she never
walked in the streets without companionship. These,
and many other proofs of Mary's virtuous nature, are
brought forward by Ambrosius to encourage his feminine
readers to imitation. "May, therefore, Mary's virgin
life," he expressly says, "be described for you in a
picture which like a mirror reflects the ideal of chastity
and the essence of virtue. May you draw from this
picture examples for your own life, which show you
in a perfect model what you have to correct in your-
selves, what you have to avoid, and what you have to
strive after.
" The first thing you should zealously appropriate is
the nobility of your model. "What is nobler than God's
Mother, what is more resplendent than she who was
chosen out by Heaven's resplendent King ? What is
more chaste than she who bore a child without physical
conception ? How can I tell of all her other virtues ?
She was a virgin not only in her body but also in her
soul who did not let any stain soil tier pure heart :
humble in mind, serious in her words, intelligent in
her thoughts, slow to talk and swift to learn ; building
her hope, not upon uncertain riches, but upon the
prayers of the poor ; zealous in her work, reverent in her
utterances, and seeking the principles of action not from
men, but from God. She injured no one, wished all
well, was reverent towards all her elders, and was not
260 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP
envious of those of her own age ; she avoided quarrels,
sought after reason, and loved virtue. When, indeed,
did she hurt her parents even by a look, when had she
a different opinion from her relations, when did she
humiliate an inferior, ridicule a weaker, or avoid one
who sought her help ? she who sought only such society
where innocence never need blush and where respect was
never set aside. Never was a severe expression seen on
her face, never anything disrespectful in her bearing, never
were her gestures other than comely ; her walk other
than dignified, nor her voice other than gentle. And
thus the shape and movements of her body pictured
forth the purity of her soul. For" here the pious
Father addresses a direct exhortation to his female
readers " in a beautiful house one ought to meet beauty
even in the ante-chamber, and at our first entrance
we ought to be assured that nothing soiled dwells in
the inner apartments, but that the soul's loveliness,
unhampered by all physical bonds, can shine forth like
the light from a lantern."
In spite of all his asceticism, Ambrosius, as we see,
knew well how to appreciate the significance of external
beauty. In this respect his description corresponds
with the view of the Virgin held by all the early
Christian and mediaeval authors. The worshippers of
the Madonna have always regarded her body as a clear
lantern from which the purity of the soul shines forth
unhindered In voluminous descriptions and with ex-
tensive repetitions, they have set forth how the Virgin
was, even physically, more admirable than any one else,
but it is seldom that these lists of Mary's perfections suc-
ceed in waking any living image in the reader's mind. In
their anxiety not to pass over a single feature, the pious
authors have made inventories of the elements of her
xm THE CHILDHOOD OF MAEY 201
beauty, instead of giving a pictorial description of what
theologians call the " union of graces in the Madonna's
person." We learn, to mention some striking examples,
that Mary's eyebrows were neither too long nor too
short, and extended beautifully over the eyes ; that her
teeth were white and even, without cavities or stains,
and shining Eke ivory; that her nose was straight
and her nostrils (of course Mary's childhood is here
described) were never in need of wiping ; that her
voice was pleasant and her breath " sweetly aromatic "
but we do not see before us the being of whose beauty
we are to be convinced. 21
The only thing we retain of the extensive descrip-
tions, as, for example, in the Vita rhythmica and in
Walther von Eheinau's German paraphrase of this poem,
is an impression of Mary's movements. She walked,
it is said, with an upright bearing, but her head was
always a little bent, as befits a modest virgin, who
should not hold her neck too straight; and all her
behaviour, her walk and her gestures, were decent,
courteous, and modest. 22 In this humbleness of Mary
lay undoubtedly, according to the Catholic view, the
foremost cause of her possession of that living and com-
pelling beauty, whose name, gratia, at once signifies
grace and charm. It was by her humbleness, more than
aught else, that she drew the Highest to take up His
abode in her body. 23 For what He first looked to was
not mere physical beauty <c non treccia d' oro, non
d ? occhi vaghezza," as Boccaccio sings in his sonnet to
the Madonna ; but the modesty of a humble mind :
Ma T nmiltade tua, la qttal fa tanta,
Che pote romper ogni antico sdegao
Tra DIo e noL
By the same qualities Mary won the love of men, when
262 THE SACEED SHKINE CHAP.
she went out with bent head and with neck bowed in
graceful modesty. In the mediaeval ideal of woman-
hood, grace and modesty were indissolubly united, and
the higher the rank of a woman, the greater was the
value set upon her modesty. Thus it is said in the old
Schackta/velslek concerning the modesty of queens ; 24
Then som ar howisk j sina hoga
aff blyghet skal iiennes enne loga,
aff alia kropsins daglikhet
meat tha skiner blygJIkhet.
{< She who is courteous in her mind, with shyness shall her face be
shining; of all the beauties of the body, none is more shining than
In the case of Mary, however, this charming
modesty must have been coupled with a quiet and
dignified security, in a union giving personal distinc-
tion to her entire being. It was, indeed, by an act of
childish courage that she aroused admiration when she
was brought to the Temple, and on this occasion her in-
vincible charm was for the first time revealed to " all the
people." Accordingly both art and poetry have found,
from a purely aesthetic standpoint, an invaluable motive
in the story of the Virgin's visit to the Temple.
In the Eastern Church a festival had been instituted
during the ninth century, perhaps even during the
eighth century, to commemorate Mary's "presentation."
In Europe, indeed, this festival has not achieved any
general popularity, but in many places it has been
celebrated with pious ardour, and efforts are still being
made to win a wider recognition for it. 25 To an outsider
it may seem as if the occasion were too unimportant to
give rise to any special Church ceremonies, but such a
judgment disregards the ability of Catholic authors
to introduce a deep meaning into things which to us
xiii THE CHILDHOOD OF 263
appear relatively insignificant. We need only read how
Abb6 Broussolle explains the feelings with which the
French priests regard the Presentation festival : " When
on this day we walk up to the altar, there to renew
our promises to the Church , we call to our minds the
example of the Holy Virgin, who when she was still a
little child, walked up the steps of the Temple without
once looking back." 26 It is the idea of a holy and irrevoc-
able initiation into religions mysteries that has made
Mary's visit to the Temple so favourite a subject for
pious meditation. Probably the same idea also led to
churches being named after the Madonna's achievement
on the holy staircase Maria ad gradus and to her
zeal in reaching the Temple chambers being described
at length in most of the legends and poems concerning
the Virgin. In the office for the feast of the Presenta-
tion, the coming to the Temple is spoken of as a
solemn and serious act, an ascensio mantis Domini, i.e;
an ascent to the "mountain and house of God/' 27 The
" miracle" of the three-year-old child being able with-
out help to dance up the high steps, does not seem,
however, to have acquired any great importance in
literature. In some authors the occurrence has even
been considerably modified. According to Brother
Philip, for example, the presentation only took place
during the Virgin's seventh year, 28 while the Vita
rhythmica and Walther von Eheinau retain the original
chronology, but in order to make the scene more natural,
make Mary crawl up the staircase like a child. 29
In pictorial art, the coming to the Temple has
plaved a yet more important rdle than in litera-
ture. Before the time the beginning of the fifteenth
century when Mary began to be represented as being
taught to read by Anna, it was the only scene from
264 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
the Virgin's childhood that had been portrayed. The
motive also was particularly suited for treatment in the
decoration of churches. For the Inhabitants of cloisters
nothing could be more edifying than the picture of the
female novice, who so willingly exchanged the home of
her childhood for the Temple, and in addition the subject
oiBFered many opportunities for artistic representation
a stately Temple architecture, priests In gorgeous robes,
the young girls who followed the Virgin on her leaving
home, and the crowds of people admiring the confident
and graceful bearing of the tender creature.
In oriental art the narrative of the Protoevangile Is
Illustrated with an exact fidelity to detail The torch-
bearing girls, for instance, are minutely painted on
Byzantine manuscripts, such as the Greek nienology of
the year 1025 and the homilies of the monk James. In
the illustrations to the latter manuscript, the Virgin is
followed by Solomon's sixty warriors, who by their pres-
ence lend increased dignity to the procession. " Mary
advances," so runs the text to this picture, " and purifies
the earth by the touch of her feet. She is not adorned
with costly apparel, but the mantle of her Innocence
makes her fairer than the virgins following her, even
as the light of the sun darkens the stars/ 130 This con-
trast between the Madonna and her suite has been
sacrificed by the European painters. In their pictures
we see no long procession, but only the Virgin herself,
ascending the stairs. Taddeo Gaddi and Giovanni da
Milano, indeed, with a touching inability to render the
childish proportions, have portrayed before the Temple
some dwarf-like figures, who probably represent Mary's
playfellows; but with the later painters, as also with
Giotto, even these remnants of Mary's following are
absent. If the compositions thus became less rich in
xiii THE CHILDHOOD OF MAET 265
detail, on the other hand the technical skill of the artist
has rendered possible a more expressive representation
of the chief moments of the situation. The Mary of
Gaddi and Giovanni da Milano still walks In quite an
ordinary way up the steps ; in Gaddi's picture, the
Virgin, contrary to the legend, turns tack towards her
admiring friends ; and there is neither grace nor dance in
the German painter's pictures of the visit to the Temple.
Ghirlandajo, on the other hand, makes the Virgin run up
the stairs with light steps, and we see from her flutter-
ing garments how eager she is to reach the priest
awaiting her. Carpaccio has not attempted to render
any dancing movement, but has instead made Mary a
serious aspirant, who with bowed head and a candle in
her hand humbly approaches the holy place. In Cima's
representation, we are impressed above all by the con-
scious security with which the Virgin, erect and firm,
ascends the high steps. Tintoretto, again, has achieved
a powerful effect by letting her delicate form outline itself
freely against a cloudy evening sky. No one, however,
has succeeded in giving such an impression of God having
really poured out His grace over Mary, as Titian when
he painted the little Madonna, who, surrounded by a
halo, walks up to the Temple with one hand carrying
her dress and with the other one pointing in the direc-
tion of her ascent. Her walk shows dignified grace
and happy confidence; she Is serious and at the same
time childlike ; a Nazarite who understands the high
import of mysteries, but at the same time a little girl,
whose innocent and inimitable grace make her " dear to
all the people of Israel." 81
In some renderings of the presentation, the artists
have not been content with picturing Mary's passage
up the Temple stairs. They allow us to look into one of
266 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
the inner rooms of the Temple, in the background of the
picture, in which the Virgin is received by the High
Priest, or kneels with him before the altar. 32 Such a
representation of two successive moments in one picture
was not unusual in mediaeval art, and the fact that
Mary performs her devotion at a Christian altar cannot
be regarded as a disturbing anomaly. On the contrary,
at least one Catholic art critic has had some little
misgivings because the Virgin has been represented in
some cases as praying before the Jewish Ark of the
Covenant. Thus Grimouard de S. Laurent points out
in his Gruide de Vart chretien that Israel's Palladium
had disappeared during the Babylonian captivity ; and
even if it had been preserved, it would be inconceiv-
able, he says, that the Temple servants should allow
Mary to enter a room which only the High Priest had
a right to visit. All these circumstances, however, are
brought forward by the orthodox author merely in order
that he may be able to assert more vehemently how
justifiable and how natural it was in symbolical com-
positions to represent Mary before the Ark of the
Covenant. The artists and spectators ought only to
remember that such a subject cannot be grasped other-
wise than mystically. Even if no earthly being per-
mitted a woman to enter the Holy of holies, the angels
may have often transported Mary into that chamber,
which was, as it were, made to receive her ; 83 and nothing
could be more significant to theological thought than the
idea that the new Ark, which was to contain the gospel,
was placed before the shrine which hid the tables of the
law. This ingenious idea has been rhetorically expressed
by Bossuet in a sketch for a sermon : " Open, Temple,
thine eternal gates ; behold the Church that is represented
before the Church, the sanctuary before the sanctuary,
xin THE CHILDHOOD OF 267
and the real Ark, In which. God Himself rests, before the
figurative Ark, in which He is symbolically enclosed." 84
The poetic editors of the Mary legend have strangely
enough failed to notice the symbolism contained in the
meeting between the old and the new Ark. On the other
hand, however, they have known well how to describe the
Madonna, whose person is perpetually associated in the
theological system with the Mass-miracle, as a pro-
tectress of the altar and of altar implements. Together
with the other virgins, Mary takes care that the cloths
of the Mass-table are always kept intact and clean. It
was purposely forgotten that the Jewish sanctuary was
not a Christian temple, and the Virgin was portrayed
as the ideal for a Catholic sacristan. During her
residence in the Temple Mary not only perfected her-
self in that ideal domesticity demanded by the care of
the holy linen, vessels, lamps, and candles, but she was
also initiated into all the mysteries and prophesies that
were to receive their explanation and fulfilment in her
person. It was the Temple priest who gave her that
instruction which the Renaissance artists, contrary to
all tradition, made her receive from her mother Anna ;
and the priests found in Mary a diligent pupil, who
absorbed without difficulty all the theological knowledge
that had been revealed to the Jews of the Old Covenant.
She knew all the books of the Bible, and could interpret
both their literal and their hidden meaning. How im-
posing is the impression of her learning that we receive
from the description In the Vita rhythmica : E5
Omne vetus testamentum fuit ei notum,
Sic quoque cito capidbat intellectum totum,
Sensum tropologici, mistici, moralis,
Nee non anagogici sive literalis ;
Totam saeram paginam cum pMlosophia
Celestis sapiente didicit Maria.
268 SACBED SEBINE CHAP.
It was also only natural that neither texts nor com-
mentaries could offer any difficulty to her who, even in
childhood, stood in close relationship with the Highest,
Mary lived only for sacred service, in communion with
God and His angels. These latter awoke her daily,
when as the Protoevangile informs us they brought
her the heavenly food which alone was worthy to nourish
her " viscera sacrifera." 36 Mediaeval imagination loved
to dwell upon these angel visits, and Wernher von
Tegernsee even indicates that Gabriel entertained a
virtuous " Minne " for the Holy Virgin. 37 This assertion
certainly was not thought shocking during the period
of romantic love-poetry, and it must not be inter-
preted as implying any kind of doubt as to the Virgin's
absolute chastity. She was pure in mind and thought,
and in this respect, too, she was a model for the pious
brides of Christ she had dedicated her " Magdthum "
to the heavenly Bridegroom. Therefore she felt over-
whelmed when she learnt that she had been promised
to a man. She would rather have died than be exposed
to an earthly marriage, for the Highest was so we are
told by Brother Philip "her joy and her mirth, her
laughter and her weeping, her life and death, and the
mirror of her eyes and her soul's light " :
ich mac von die gescheiden niht,
du "bist min "and ich bin din,
ich wil immer "bi dir sin. 38
When, finally, Mary consented to go with Joseph, this
was only due to the fact that an angel appeared and
assured her that Joseph, too, was pure and chaste, and
that he would be a watchful guardian of her virtue.
It had already been stated in the Protoevangile
that, according to the agreement of both parties,
the connection between Joseph and Mary was to be
xiii THE CHILDHOOD OF MARY 269
only a feigned marriage. This view was held by the
leading mediaeval theologians. The nuptials between
the holy pair were regarded as a purely formal ceremony,
and special reasons were thought out to account for the
fact that Providence had found It needful ever to guide
the Virgin Into a relationship which, at any rate for the
world, looked like a marriage. S. Bernard has ingeni-
ously summarised these motives under seven heads. The
mystery, he says, had to be concealed from the devils,
whose attention would have been aroused if an unmarried
and virtuous Virgin had borne a child. The pious
husband had to protect Mary's virginity ; and he could
give her all the help she needed during her earthly life.
Through Joseph the Divine Child's descent could be
attached to a human line, and this also served to
divert unwarranted curiosity from its mysterious origin.
Further, her marriage protected the Virgin from calumny;
and the fact that she, too, had been a wife sanctified the
position of married women. Finally, by her nuptials
Mary testified in favour of the Catholic Church's sacra-
ment of marriage. 39
This last argument is in Itself sufficient to explain
why the patrons of Catholic art were so willing to
decorate the walls of churches with pictures of the
nuptials of Mary and Joseph. The holy wedding, as is
well known, has been one of the most popular subjects of
Christian painting, and the renderings of it by lo Spagna
and Raphael are too familiar to need description. As this
motive did not afford opportunity for artists to reveal
any new sides of Mary's personality, it is not necessary
to dwell on it further here. All the different composi-
tions correspond in their essentials. Mary stretches out
her hand towards Joseph's ring shyly and seriously, and
we understand that only obedience induces her to bind
270 THE SACRED SHKINE CHAP, xin
herself in a union which, at any rate outwardly, is a
marriage ; while Joseph receives her into his care with
humility, but shows nothing of the joy or pride of a
newly -wedded husband. One is tempted to imagine
that he has learnt that he is only the representative
of a lofty and absent bridegroom. Mary's nuptials
constitute, indeed, a marriage by proxy. Her earthly
husband will guard the Lord's tabernacle on behalf of
the Highest, and the simple craftsman will offer his
home and his name to the Son of God. In virtue of
his profession, he was, even better than any one else,
entitled to represent the real father of Mary's Child,
for it must not be thought that there was no reason in
his being a carpenter. Sicardus Cremonensis has, with
a sublime play upon words, explained why the Divine
Man chose Joseph for His earthly foster father : 40 " He
preferred to be called the carpenter's son, rather than
let His mother be stoned as an unmarried child-bearer ;
and in truth He was the son of a carpenter, but of Him
who carpented the sun and the morning red."
CHAPTEE XIV
THE ANNUNCIATION
Ma vorrei mi mostrastl 11 volto e i gesti,
L' ranil risposta e quel casto timore,
L 1 ardente carita, la fede viva
Delia Donna del cielo, e con clie onesti
Desiri ascolti, accetti, onori, e scriva
I divini precetti entro nel core.
VITTOBIA COLONHA, Rime sacre e moralt.
THE Catholic legends have not much to tell about
the marriage of Joseph and Mary, but it is easy to
imagine how the faithful regarded the relationship
between them. The fact that Mary was nominally a
wife, and that Joseph had been wedded to her, did not
prevent the pious couple from being considered a model
for all Christian ascetics. Hagiographic literature
offered many examples of men and women who con-
cealed a monastic manner of living under the outer
form of marriage. All that was known of these holy
connections should be applicable to the story of the
Madonna and her aged companion. When, after much
persuasion, Joseph consented to be wedded to Mary, he
gave, so it was probably believed, his hand to his
" child-wife," or rather his young ward, and introduced
her to a marriage such as that between Cecilia and
Valerianus, Chrysanthus and Daria, or Henry and
Kunigunda. He was as pious and considerate as these
271
272 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
men ; but lie was besides, from a consciousness of his own
unimportance, a humble servant of her and her Divine
Child. Joseph, who is the patron saint of modest and
quiet people, cannot, according to Roman Catholic ideas,
be regarded otherwise than as a retiring head of the
house who in no way disturbed Mary's relationship to
the divine mysteries. After her introduction to her
new home she remained a virgin of the Lord, just as
when she had lived in the Temple ; and consequently
she was, in all but name, a single woman when she
received the heavenly message from Gabriel
In this meeting with God's envoy we have to
recognise the decisive event in the life of the Mother
of God. As may easily be understood, therefore, the
Annunciation has given matter for religious meditation,
more than any other moment in the Madonna's history.
The angel's promise embraced the whole of the glad
tidings afterwards conveyed to the faithful by the New
Testament, and in his words was found the canonical
expression of the idea of Mary as "full of grace"
and " blest among women." Consequently it is only
natural that the champions of the Madonna cult should
have glorified in picture and writing the scene when
Gabriel " came to a Virgin in Nazareth."
As early as the first' centuries, the Church Fathers
wrote sermons in praise of the Virgin, which, principally
consisted of a rhetorical piling-up of the epithets be-
stowed on Mary, preceded by the formula of greeting
in the angel's address. 1 The " Ave " was endlessly
varied both in verse and prose, and the short biblical
sentences were amplified in extensive paraphrases.
According to this simple scheme men have for two
thousand years unwearyingly continued to write and
preach on the Annunciation miracle, 2 and the artists
XIY THE ANITinsrOIATION 273
have illustrated the great subject with no less zeal,
though with greater variation.
It has been contended that the Annunciation motive
was treated even In the earliest Christian art ; but
it Is not certain that the two frescoes of the first
centuries in the Catacombs of PriscUla and In those
of Peter and Marcellinus which are brought forward
in support of these assertions really represent Gabriel's
meeting with Mary. 3 Even if this were the case,
these two compositions would stand alone in the
art-production which dates from the time previous to
the Council at Ephesus. After the dogma of Mary's
high position had been officially recognised, however,
the motive suddenly achieved unique popularity. From
the beginning of the fifth century we find It on sar-
cophagus reliefs, on small ivory pictures, in mosaic
work and on wall-paintings. Finally, during the later
Middle Ages, when the Madonna cult reached its all-
powerful position In religious life, the Annunciation
pictures occupied an absolutely dominant place In Church
decoration. Altar-pieces seldom lacked such rendering
of the glad tidings ; and even If the picture Itself treated
some other subject drawn from Christian legend, yet,
above it, or in one of the small compartments in the
predella under the picture, was represented the event by
which the Virgin was chosen as a tabernacle for God.
The outer surfaces of the doors of the altar cabinets
usually have pictures of this mystery, which is a pre-
paration and an introduction to all the mystical scenes
represented on the inner reliefs and paintings of the
cabinet. Finally, in the Church itself, the Madonna
and the announcing angel frequently appear on either
side of the great triumphal arch which separates the
nave from the holy space in the choir, or they confront
274 THE SACRED SHBIJSTE CHAP.
the worshipper above the middle doorway of the chief
fagade. 4 Thus even the outer arrangements emphasised
the importance of the Annunciation as the first great
and fundamental miracle,, which constitutes the neces-
sary condition for all the later events in the sacred
history.
It is only natural that in these numberless pictures
there should appear many different ways of interpreting
the subject. If, therefore, one wishes to gain a general
view of the renderings of the Annunciation, the super-
abundant material must be divided into groups. An
exact classification would be difficult, if not absolutely
impossible, to carry out, but even at the first view we
can distinguish two types representing two essentially
different methods of treatment. 5
In pictures belonging to the first type the Annunci-
ation is regarded as a mystic event, which is primarily
important as a step in the great work of atonement.
All historical details are unnecessary to such a concep-
tion. Just as S. Luke, in his narrative, gives no informa-
tion as to the immediate circumstances of Gabriel's visit,
so the artists confine themselves to representing the two
persons only. By this abstract method of composition
the event is removed outside the limitations of time and
space, and thereby gains in symbolical significance.
The second kind of Annunciation picture is marked
by a richer composition. The artists seek, by the aid
of explanatory details, to give an idea, or at any rate an
indication, of the place where the great meeting came to
pass. Mary is portrayed not merely as a Virgin as
such, but as a woman in a definite environment, and
thereby the situation appears to the spectator as an
historic event in the Madonna's life. For pictures
of this kind the Gospel of S. Luke offers altogether too
xiv THE AtfSTJJTOIATION 275
meagre a text. Artists have therefore been led to
illustrate the more detailed narratives of the Apoc-
-ryphal legends ; or they have, without any respect for
historical facts, borrowed from their own immediate
surroundings the milieu in which they have placed their
characters. In many cases Annunciation pictures of
this kind have the effect rather of German, Italian,
or Flemish studies from life than representations of an
universal religious motive.
By reason of its very simplicity, the first method
of treatment allowed an expression of the absolute
element in the mystery. It was therefore calculated
to appeal to those dogmatic theologians who during
the later Middle Ages laboured still further to em-
phasise Mary's r61e in the Atonement. This abstract
composition further harmonised in purely aesthetic
respects with the stylistic ideal of the Renaissance.
It is therefore richly represented during the most
flourishing period of Italian art Fra Angelico,
Donatello, Piero dei Franceschi, and Perugino have
refrained in their pictures of the Annunciation from
portraying in any way the milieu. In Giotto's paintings
on the triumphal arch in the Arena Chapel at Padua,
the motive is compressed into its most essential elements,
and even in Eomanesque churches representations of
the Annunciation exist which are as simple as the gospel
narrative itsel
Of early Christian art-production, on the contrary,
the Catacomb paintings already mentioned, and a little
ivory plate from the period between the fifth and the
seventh centuries (now in the Bibliotheque Rationale,
Paris), are the only known examples of Annunciation
pictures from which all historically descriptive elements
have been excluded. The rest of the carvings, mosaics,
276 THE SACKED SHK1NE CHAR
and manuscript illustrations represent the holy event in
a definite environment, which is either pictured in detail
or indicated by some symbolical object. This method of
treatment is predominant during the Eomanesque period,
and it continues to be employed by the side of the
simpler compositions throughout the Renaissance right
down to modern times. The traditions and the literary
models allowed of many variations in the method of
representation, which can only be briefly characterised
here.
A clear influence from the Gospel of James is evident
in those compositions which deal with the preliminary
Annunciation at the well. The artists, however, have
departed from their texts when they portrayed an angel
as well, for according to the legend Mary only heard
a voice addressing her. The Madonna is represented
either as kneeling before the well, or as standing upright
by it and letting her jug down on a line. She turns
round frightened to the angel, who in some pictures
descends towards her from heaven, and in others stands
by her side on the ground. Some small ivory plates
from the sixth and seventh centuries are the earliest
examples of this type of picture. 6 At the beginning of
the twelfth century the vision at the well was still
portrayed in illustrations to the homilies of the Byzan-
tine monk James, and the motive has received its most
famous treatment in a great mosaic, dating from the pre-
ceding century, in the transept of S. Mark's, at Venice. 7
During the subsequent period, on the contrary, the sub-
ject was completely forgotten. It is due, probably, not
to any influence from the Protoevangile, but to a striving
after aesthetically decorative effect, that some artists of
the Renaissance Andrea del Sarto, Francia, Crivelli and
Titian, for example make the Annunciation take place
XIY THE ANNUNCIATION 277
out In the open air in front of tlie faade of a stately
building. 8 It also was probably a pure coincidence that
led Francesco Rizzo to place Mary in a mountainous
region by a spring, from which a young man fetches water
in a vessel. 9 In spite of the landscape surrounding, we
have to suppose that these pictures, like most mediaeval
and modern works of art, represent the later angel-
greeting, i.e. the Annunciation proper. In the majority
of compositions, Mary, according to the canonical and
the apocryphal narratives alike, receives Gabriel's visit
in a room. 10
If the pictures harmonise in this respect, however,
they vary in their ways of representing the events
accompanying the visit, for many different views were
possible as to the circumstances in which the Annuncia-
tion took place. Thus, to begin with the subject which
lies nearest to the question of place, there might be a dis-
pute about the time of the sacred event. The Gospels
gave no indication in this respect, and the assertions of
theological authors were based only on probabilities.
Some considered that the Annunciation and Incarnation
must have taken place at the same time as the manna was
poured down upon the earth, i.e. early in the morning.
They said, further, that as Jesus had come out of His
mother's womb like the sun out of a cloud, His birth
also must have been announced at the break of day.
Other authors argued that the glad tidings were com-
municated in the middle of the day, because Sarah had
received the promise of Isaac the Saviour's prototype
in the Old Testament during the hottest hour of the
day (Genesis xviil I seq.). 11 The day, with its clear light
and its bustle of work, was, however, regarded by the
majority of authors as an unsuitable time for the great
mystery, and the famous Jesuit, Suarez, asserts that it was
278 THE SACKED SHEEN"! CHAP.
midnight when Gabriel entered Mary's room. 12 Even if
this view did not receive the Church's sanction, at any rate
the evening has been generally considered the most prob-
able time for the miracle. The twilight, the stillness, and
the rest from labour, make the evening the most religious
part of the day. There was, besides, a natural symbolism
in the idea that God joined Himself to man just at the
moment when the sun sinks to the earth. This thought
was impressed on the minds of the faithful when the
Church during the fourteenth century began to ordain
the saying of an Ave Maria during the moments when
the bells rang in the evening rest. The bell-ringing itself
was probably a purely civic signal, which at the hora
ignitegii reminded the inhabitants of town and village
that they ought in the interests of public safety to
extinguish the fires on their hearths; but when this
warning became associated with the prescribed prayers,
the message of the bells acquired a purely religious
meaning. And by the help of that a posteriori reason-
ing which is so often met with in theological -argument,
it was asserted quite definitely that the Annunciation
occurred at the evening twilight because the Angelus
prayer is read at that time. 13
It is not easy to decide how great an influence the
different theories as to the moment of the Annunciation
have exercised on pictorial art. The treatment of the
phenomena of light continues, even during the Ee-
naissanee, to be so generalised that it can seldom be
seen whether the painters desired to represent a dawn,
a midday sunshine, or an evening twilight. Where no
details show the contrary, we may suppose that the
time is early evening, i.e. the hour of the Angelus ;
but there are many pictures which indicate by easily
comprehensible signs that the artists had a later hour in
xiv THE ANNWCIA.TION 279
mind. Sometimes a lighted candle shows that It was dark
In Mary's room before Gabriel entered 14 his presence
has naturally lit up his surroundings. 15 In those cases
where the Madonna has been represented in her bed-
room we have to suppose that the Annunciation was
thought to have taken place at night. The Virgin , so
one Imagines the course of events, has withdrawn to her
innermost chamber, where she was wont to pass the
most silent hours of the day in divine meditation. She
has, as S. Bernard described it, carefully bolted her
door so that no human being may be able to disturb
her peace ; but the angel, by reason of the fineness of
his essence, has been able to make his way through closed
doors, and surprises her in her deepest devotion. 16
That Gabriel, as some painters have represented the
story, should wake Mary from her sleep, violates all
orthodox traditions. A composition, such as Rossetti's
" Ecce Ancilla Domini," would certainly not be approved
by strict Catholics.
From these controversial points it Is natural to pass
to the question of how Mary was occupied when Gabriel
entered. The Gospel of James expressly says that the
Virgin sat at her purple work This narrative has been
followed in all the earlier Christian art. Even in the
most insignificant and most primitive sculptures one
can usually distinguish a distaff, which the Virgin holds
in her hand, or a basket and a ball which stand by her
side. These attributes are even prescribed in the official
rules for the manufacture of religious pictures given in
the famous handbook of painting from Mount Athos. 17
From the beginning of the twelfth century, however,
the spinning requisites become more and more rare in
Annunciation compositions, being replaced by a desk
and a book. The artists have clearly been influenced
280 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
by the accounts of Mary's religious meditations given
by the theological authors. They make the Virgin look
up from her reading when Gabriel enters. If she is
represented as sitting, the book is usually open on a
desk in front of her, or rests in her lap. In those com-
positions, again, where the Madonna is an upright figure,
she holds the book in one hand. 18 In the lineal composi-
tion of her form this gesture has the same function as
the holding of the distaff in the older representations.
Where the book is open the artists have often in-
scribed on its leaves those words of Isaiah's prophecy,
in which, according to the theological interpretation,
Mary's virgin -birth had been foretold. Hereby the
pictures came to illustrate a thought expressed in S.
Bernard's commentary on the Annunciation. For the
Madonna, says the pious author, had reached in her
Bible reading the verses in which it is said : " Behold, a
virgin shall conceive, and bear a son" (Isaiah vii 14).
In the humbleness of her heart she was thinking to
herself how happy the woman would be of whom this
could be said when in the same moment Gabriel
entered and gave her the application of the text. 19 We
imagine that we see how astonished she was by these
unexpected tidings, when, as is observable in many
Annunciation pictures, she marks with her finger the
place in the book where she broke off her reading to
look up at Gabriel.
While we are concerned with the accessories of
Annunciation pictures, it is necessary to say a few
words also about the angel's attributes. In the older
pictures Gabriel is usually provided with a staff, which
indicates his office of God's herald. The staff or sceptre
is sometimes crowned by a mound and sometimes by a
xiv THE ANNUNCIATION 281
little cross. 20 During the Eenalssance tills insigne is
often changed for a blossoming twig, which leads the
thoughts to the root of Jesse and to the flowering staff
of Joseph. In a number of cases the artists seem to
have chosen at random the flower they placed in the
angel's hand, but usually Gabriel bears a lily.
This lily, however, is not the only thing that blossoms
in Annunciation pictures. From the beginning of the
thirteenth century it becomes a rule which is closely
observed in glass paintings and manuscript illustrations
to place between the Virgin and the angel a vase con-
taining a high-stemmed plant 21 During the Renaissance
this plant is also most frequently a lily, while during the
thirteenth century any flower seems to have been thought
suitable for the purpose. Such an arrangement naturally
heightens the decorative effect of the compositions, but
it must not be thought that it was originally adopted for
any purely aesthetic purpose. The flowers in the vase and
the flowers in Gabriel's hand have a symbolical signifi-
cance, and they therefore help to explain to the initiated
the mystic purport of the situation. For the Annuncia-
tion was the festival of early spring. Christ, whose
birth was foretold by Gabriel, was a flower that blossomed
from the stem of Jesse ; His mother, to whom the
imagery of the Song of Solomon was applied, was a
flower of the fields and a " lily of the valley." And the
place where the Annunciation occurred had a name,
Nazareth, which in Hebrew, according to an old but
incorrect interpretation, means flower. Such a meeting
of associations was naturally not left unutilised by the
theological authors. It was often set forth in sermons
how the promise of the birth of God as man was con-
nected with the spring's promise of flowers and fruit.
S. Bernard in particular worked out the flower symbolism
282 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
of tlie Annunciation in poetic and ingenious conceits.
The flower, he said, had been willing, at the time of
flowering, to be born of a flower in a flower i.e. Jesus
permitted Himself to be announced to Mary at Nazareth
in the spring : " Flos nasci voluit de flore, in flore, et
floris tempore." 22 It is a rhetorical bouquet of this kind
that the artists illustrated when they represented the
flower of spring or of Nazareth between the flower Mary
and the flower Gabriel bears in his hand as a promise
of Mary's flower child.
When, however, the plant, or the stem in Gabriel's
hand, is a lily, it does not stand for Nazareth or the
spring, but refers to the immaculate conception of the
Divine Child. For the lily is the primitive symbol for
innocence, just as it is often used as an attribute
of fruitfulness which, before Mary became a mother,
could never be combined with virginity. 23 As a
symbol of innocence it has been perpetually associated
with the Madonna's person. The legends tell, for
example, of a Jew who withstood all attempts at
conversion because he could not be convinced that
Jesus had been born without a human father. " I will
not believe in this doctrine," he said, pointing to a
withered plant, " before I see a lily spring out of that
stalk"; but he immediately consented to be baptised
when, in the same moment, a large white flower
blossomed on the stem. 24 By a similar miracle a pious
Dominican monk was cured of his doubt of the
Madonna's virgin motherhood. He had gone to S.
Aegidius for comfort in his soul's distress, and
Aegidius removed his doubt without wasting many
words. He merely struck the earth with his staff,
and immediately a lily sprang up as a sign of vir-
ginity before birth. Then he struck anew with his staff
xiv THE ANNUNCIATIOH 283
for virginity in birth, and another lily arose with, stem
and flower. Finally, he smote his staff on the earth a
third time, with the words, " Virgo post partum," and a
third lily confirmed the virginity after birth. 25 We are
reminded of this pious legend when we see that in
their Annunciation pictures artists have often given
three blossoms to the plant or to Gabriel's stem. In
some cases the demands of the situation have been so
closely followed that only one of these blossoms is
open, while the other two are buds to show that at
the Annunciation there could be question only of the
first kind of virginity, i.e. " virginitas ante partum." 26
The staff or the flower which was the starting-point for
this excursus on the symbolism of lilies is not, however,
an Invariable attribute of Gabriel. There are many
Annunciation pictures in which the angel approaches
Mary without showing any sign of his lofty mission, but
it has in these cases been denoted by other means that
he is a messenger. In some German compositions he
hands the Virgin a letter from heaven, a naive idea
which probably has some foundation in contemporary
literature; it has at any rate been expressed in old
oriental poetry on Mary. 27 In other pictures, again,
Gabriel is provided with a hunting horn, and as a
hunter of the mystic unicorn, he blows his Ave to the
Virgin, in whose bosom the fabulous creature has found
refuge. 28 The ingenious symbolism introduced into
these pictures, however, has no direct significance for
the understanding of Mary's personality. The ideas of
her held by artists and poets are characterised above
all by the way in which the bearing and expression of
the young woman and her supernatural guest have
been portrayed.
The demeanour of the Madonna is determined
284 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
clearly enougli by the text which, the painters had to
illustrate. Even had they known nothing besides the
canonical narrative, they would have been compelled,
in the figure of the Virgin, to express her fear of the
great news. The Gospel of S. Luke expressly says that
Mary " was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind
what manner of salutation this should be." These words
have been extensively commented upon, and a proof
has even been sought in them of the virgin modesty of
the pure girl. The older authors, Johannes Chrysos-
tomus, G-regorius Thaumaturgos, and Hesychius, con-
sider, in accordance with the Gospel, that it was
the import of the news which frightened her, 29 but
Ambrosius in his ascetic tracts gives quite another
explanation of Luke's text. We see how anxious he is
to represent Mary as a model for all virtuous women.
" It is the proper way of virgins," he says, " to tremble
and shake as soon as a man enters the room, and to be
terrified whenever a man addresses them. Women may
learn from Mary how to apply the proper rules of
womanhood. She was alone in her closed chamber,
that no man might see her. And only an angel could
find his way to her. She was alone, without company
and without a witness, that she might not be disturbed
by any unworthy address when the angel approached
her. Learn, virgins, to avoid unseemly conversa-
tions : Mary was terrified even by an angel's greeting." 80
It was, however, as Ambrosius is at pains to point
out in another treatise, only Gabriel's human form that
aroused Mary's fear. She, who was used to the society
of angels, regained her confidence as soon as she noticed
that her guest was not unknown to her.
Ambrosius was not alone in this ingenious explana-
tion. In his notable letter to Eustochium Hieronymus
xiv THE ASnSlTSGIATIQTSt 285
gives a similar interpretation of the Virgin's emotion at
the Annunciation. "When the angel Gabriel entered
to Mary in the form of a man and greeted her, she
became so disquieted and terrified that she could not
answer him, for never before had she been addressed
by a man. Later she recognised the messenger and
answered him. And she who had trembled before
the man, speaks with an angel unmoved by fear." 31
According to these explanations, when Mary saw
that Gabriel was an angel, she had no doubt that he
really brought a message from the Highest. Gregorius
Thaumaturgos, on the other hand, has made the Virgin
experience for a few moments those misgivings which
troubled so many of the pious ascetics and visionaries,
who often feared that their visions were illusions sent
out by the great deceiver. She asked herself, says
Gregorius, whether the Ave did not threaten some
misfortune, like the promise given to the mother of
her race by the serpent. " Had the devil perhaps dis-
guised himself anew like an angel of light ? " S2 With
a similar anxiety, Mary answers Gabriel's greeting in
Ephraim Syrus's annunciation hymn, " I fear, Lord, to
accept Thy word. For my mother Eve fell from her glory
because she listened to the friendly word of the serpent."
In the same hymn the oriental poet has described
the angel as so great and mighty that the Virgin is
frightened by his mere appearance. " I beseech thee,"
she answers him, " terrify me not. Thou bearest glowing
coals, burn me not. Strange and wonderful is what
thou sayest, and the meaning of thy words I cannot
grasp. . . . Thou art a flame. Strike me not with fear.
Thou art surrounded by glowing coals, I tremble before
thee. thou fire-being, how shall I believe thee ? All
that thou sayest is new to me." 33
286 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
Ephraim's rhetorical and effective description of
Gabriel's appearance probably stands quite alone in early
Christian literature, but in any case, the theological writers
have emphasised the element of power in the person
of the messenger. In this respect, special weight was
attached to the fact that in the opinion of mediaeval
philologists the name Gabriel signified the " strength of
God." 34 It was said that he who was chosen to announce
the miracle by which the Virgin birth was to break the
power of eternal natural laws must himself have been
powerful and glorious above all others. Gabriel, the
heavenly bridegroom's speaker, was a paranymphns, who
was comparable in power with the Highest Himself,
because he represented God's own might. This thought
has been expressed in lofty diction in a mediaeval poem,
which long bore the name of Abelard :
Hittit ad virginem
Non cjuemvis angelum,
Sed fortitudinem
Suam, archangelum
Amator hominis. 35
It is not unjustifiable to suppose that ideas as to the
Annunciation have been universally influenced by that
mighty introductory strophe, which in Church song
became well known to the faithful. The gospel too
was a mysterium terribile, a message dreadful in its
greatness ; but care was taken on the other hand
that Mary should not be crushed by the overwhelming
greeting. Just as the text of S. Luke's Gospel was care-
fully commented upon for the purpose of emphasising
the Virgin's modesty, so also zealous theologians dilated
upon the angel's comforting answer, " Fear not, for thou
hast found grace before God." The Virgin's answer,
"How shall this be, seeing that I know not a man?"
xiv THE ANNUNCIATION 287
gave rise to long and Ingenious explanations. It must
not be imagined that Mary faithlessly doubted the
tidings. Her question contains only a humble surprise,
which was immediately satisfied by Gabriel's informa-
tion. 36 The fact that Mary then obediently and sub-
missively offered herself as an Instrument for the divine
purpose with the words, " Behold the handmaiden of
the Lord, be it unto me as thou sayest," was regarded
as a personally meritorious action on her part. Her
consent was necessary for the fulfilment of the work of
Atonement, and God was indebted to her for the
help she gave by her willingness. Thus her bearing
towards Gabriel was in every way a contrast to that of
the mother of her race towards the beguiling serpent. 37
At the angel greeting, the part played by woman In
Paradise, said the Catholic philologists, was changed in
the same way that Eva's baneful name was converted into
the auspicious Ave, a word which with its a privative
signified that the world would be freed from woe.
It may appear like childish playing with language,
when in numberless poems Mary is sung of as " mutans
Evae nomen," or when s~he is invoked, " Ave transfer
nos a vae." But for mediaeval poets who exercised their
skill on acrostics and involved rhymings, this kind of
juggling with letters was quite in place in serious
religious poems ; and even for the humble worshippers
the play upon words was more than a technical artifice,
because it recalled the contrast between the obedient
submissiveness of the ideal woman and the first woman's
headstrong lawlessness. 38
The succession of different emotions described in the
literature of the Annunciation could not of course be
rendered in its entirety in any single painting. Artists
have sought to express in the Virgin's figure either her
288 THE SACKED SHRIKE CHAP.
fear at Gabriel's entrance, or her questioning wonder at
his words, or her humble acceptance of the message. In
the angel, again, they have represented either his mighty
and terrifying approach, or his quieting and comforting
appearance, or the reverence which he, although a
supernatural being, felt for her who had been chosen
by God. These different moments can to a certain
extent be united, but there is always one of them which
is emphasised at the expense of the others. The choice
has been determined partly by the personal preference
of the artist, and partly by the stylistic principles
prevalent during the different periods of art.
By reason of technical imperfections, complex mental
states could not be expressed in the oldest mosaics
and reliefs. However, the Virgin's timidity towards
Gabriel was successfully represented by means of some
simple gestures. By merely pressing the palm of her
right hand to her breast, she shows how unworthy she
feels. This movement gives a still more convincing
expression of humility when, as is the case in an
Armenian manuscript illustration, and in the wall-
painting in S. Urbano at Rome, 89 it is combined with
a slight inclination of the head. In other representa-
tions surprise is increased to fear, as Mary with both
hands outstretched seems to repel the unexpected and
overwhelming impression. 40
The motive of the extended hand is often re-
peated in Romanesque and Gothic sculpture, but the
expression is varied by new gestures. Sometimes the
Virgin presses her hand to her breast, as if she would
shun the great tidings. 41 She bends and twists her body
as one who seeks to avoid something oppressive, 42 or, on
the contrary, she shows by humbly extending her arms
that she willingly accepts the choice of the Highest.
xiv THE ANNUNCIATION 289
There are also many church-door sculptures In which
Mary's figure is motionless, and only a slight bending
of the head indicates her consent to Gabriel's words.
It Is the still and tranquil expression which gives the
dominating tone to the early Renaissance treatment of
the subject. Giotto is the great model also in the
matter of Annunciation compositions. In his frescoes
on the triumphal arch in the Arena chapel, Mary is at
once dignified and humble, as, with hands crossed over
her breast, she kneels before Gabriel ; and the angel,
who is likewise kneeling, has a majesty which Is serious
indeed, but so mild that it could not have frightened
the Virgin. Giotto's immediate pupils have represented
Mary in different positions standing upright, bending
forward or kneeling and they have also varied the
angel's bearing, but their compositions always express
a feeling of quiet devotion. We see that it is not
Mary's surprise, but her submissiveness, that they wished
to picture. This moment in the situation is the subject
also for the pictures of Fra Angelico, Piero dei Franceschi,
Filippo Lippi, and Perugino. 43 With Simone di Martin o,
Donatello, and Ghirlandajo, on the other hand, the
gestures of surprise and warding-off return, 44 and the
blending of humility and fear meet with a refined
expression in Botticelli's Annunciation. 45
With the later Italian artists this dramatically
expressive characteristic becomes more and more
predominant. Tintoretto paints the extremity of fear
in the Virgin, and he has made her terror intelligible,
for Gabriel flies like a storm-wind through the collapsing
walls of her room. 46 Lorenzo Lotto has made Mary
stretch forth her hands in almost petrified terror when
the angel surprises her from behind, and in order to
express fear still more clearly he has introduced a cat,
290 THE SACEID SHRINE CHAP.
which runs away frightened from the vision. 47 To a true
Catholic the cat probably represents a theological idea,
for this animal, which in pictures of the Last Supper was
often represented as sitting close to Judas's place, must
recall the Evil One, who was terrified at his power being
broken by Gabriel's Ave. In all other respects, how-
ever, Lotto's composition is only nominally a religious
work. According to the pious and devotional idea, it
was not a violent emotion of this kind which the Virgin
experienced at the angel's entry, and it was not with
such a surprise that the Highest called Mary to be an
instrument of His purpose. The striving for an aesthetic
effect has occupied the artist too much for the religious
import of the motive to be realised. In the same way,
it was not the Catholic idea of the Annunciation which
was expressed in pictures such as Paolo Veronese's,
where Gabriel dances towards Mary with the grace of a
ballet-dancer, 48 or as Titian's, where the announcing
angel is a little boy, who runs towards the Virgin
joyfully and like a child. 49
If we are thus compelled to disapprove of the too
worldly element in the later Eenaissance representations
of the Annunciation, still we must admit that the
subject was often treated, even during the devout
Middle Ages, in a way which did not quite harmonise
with the strict seriousness of the mystery. The
situation itself, the meeting between the young virgin
and the heavenly youth, was such that a deviation from
the severe theological interpretation could with difficulty
be avoided. The legend's manner of describing the
Annunciation was connected by inevitable and often,
probably, unconscious associations with the poetry of
earthly life. How much of the primitive and universal
lyricism of the folk-song and folk-legend was not hidden
xiv THE ANNUNCIATION 291
in the idea of a young woman surprised by a greeting
when she had gone with her pitcher to the well that
place where Rebecca had met Eleasar, where innumerable
nameless women had arranged to see their lovers, and
which the erotic poetry of all periods has associated
with the memory of love and song ? How many nai've
ideas of earthly conditions must not have been
aroused by those pictures and poems in which Gabriel
transmits to the chosen one a letter, or as a postillion
blows his greeting to her ; and even when these im-
memorial accessories were missing, how natural was it
not to think of Mary as one thinks of an earthly
maiden receiving a message from her lover ? All the Old
Testament prototypes, with which Mary was compared
in sermons and poems, lent features of their earthly
nature to that ideal type. If the Virgin surpassed
Eachel and Esther and the Queen of Sheba in beauty
and virtue, yet in any case she was, by the very
comparison, to some extent likened to them. Still
more was her image influenced by the ideas concerning
that woman in whose love for her lover both the rabbis
and the Christian theologians had seen a " type " of the
relationship of the Highest to His faithful community.
However much the commentators tried to insist that the
language of the Song of Solomon ought to be interpreted
mystically, they could not quite conceal the erotic and
sensuous purport of the ancient pastoral poem. Mary,
the new Shulamite, was therefore regarded as a bride to
the new Solomon, and the Annunciation was understood
as a wooing carried on on behalf of the bridegroom by
his spokesman, " his strength," the heavenly messenger
Gabriel,
In the poems on Mary written by secular bards,
this human or as the theologians would say, all too
292 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
human conception has naturally been more prominent
than in sacred poetry. Some French bards have
described, quite without reserve, how God saw from a
window in heaven the youthful Mary, who is wandering
in humble grace upon the earth, and how, charmed by
her beauty, He sends down Gabriel to communicate His
pleasure to her. 50 Thus not only has the Virgin been
described as a bride, but the Highest Himself has been
made into a lover. 51 This could still to some extent
be combined with respect for God, so long as it was
Solomon and his shepherdess who were taken as types
of the relationship between Mary and her heaveply
bridegroom ; but the matter became alarming when
the Bible narratives of the aged David began to be
applied to the mystic relationship. Even God Himself,
it was said, had felt a need of rejuvenation, and Mary
filled for Him the same function as the Shunammite
woman Abisag, whose warm young body gave new
vitality to the aged king (1 Kings i.). The Father
became young when he saw the young woman, and the
Son was the form in which He was renewed. 52 Therefore
it was possible, by daringly carrying this association to
its extreme conclusion, to make Mary the pyre in which
the old Phoenix was consumed at the Incarnation, only
to rise up with the Saviour's body in a glorified shape. 53
All these curious and, in their expansive details
absolutely grotesque similes are, of course, openly in
conflict with the dogmatic view. They have their
interest for universal literary history, but they are in
no way characteristic of the Church conception of the
Annunciation and Incarnation, and they therefore lie
outside the proper subject of this research. What we
have to observe is that even in sacred songs written by
priests and monks Mary is often praised as a " sponsa
xiv THE ANNUNCIATION 293
Del/' a bride of God, and Gabriel as a " paranymphus,"
or a spokesman ; 54 and there is reason to suppose that
these ideas, even when they were not clearly expressed,
played an unconscious part in pious meditations on
the Annunciation. The supersensuous, indeed, cannot
become quite comprehensible unless it is placed in con-
nection with sensuous phenomena.
From a strictly theological point of view it is certainly
regrettable that the dogmatic doctrines were thus drawn
down to the level of earthly life, but if one judges the
expressions of faith as an outsider, one cannot but feel
gratified that the dogmas received an interpretation which
gave human life and human warmth to religious art.
The pictures of the Madonna come all the nearer to us
when we can see in them an idealisation of all the
events in an earthly woman's life. Mary, who shrinks
from the great tidings, is not only a handmaid of God,
called to assist in His plans for the redemption of the
race, but she is also the type of the young woman who
is frightened at the mystery of life when it comes upon
her and drags her out from a still and untroubled soli-
tude. Her timidity is like the timidity of all virgins
before the unknown, and she gives her consent with the
confidence of a bride who, when she has lost her fear,
advances without hesitation towards her new fortune.
If the whole of her sex is thus idealised in Mary's person,
the male sex is glorified in Gabriel, the " strength
of God," who, mighty and aflame but with the careful
" Fear not " of a chivalrous protector, enters the chamber
of the youthful Virgin. One would like to think that
such a humanised conception of the mystery was not
entirely absent from any of the artists who introduced
so much of the universal poetry of mankind into their
representations of the Annunciation.
CHAPTER XV
THE INCARNATION
Den store Hyrdetime atter
til Bradefesten Tegnet gav :
Guds S0a med Guds opelskte Datter
forener sig i Jord og Hav :
berust af Elskovs Baeger
i hendes Indre praeger
han Himlens Billed af.
SCHACK STAFFELDT, Vaaren.
IN the canonical gospel nothing is told either of the time
of the Incarnation or of the manner in which it took
place. The angel merely says to Mary : " Thou shall
conceive in thy womb and bear a son. . . . The Holy
Spirit shall come over thee and the power of the Highest
shall overshadow thee." The Annunciation contains
nothing more than a promise, and Gabriel's sole function
is to foretell the miracle. The Apocryphal writings
agree in this respect with S. Luke's text ; the only new
addition to the narrative is the expression in the Proto-
evangile, that Mary shall conceive a child " by the word
of God." What is meant, however, by the " word," and
how the conception was thought to be brought about,
does not clearly appear from this meagre utterance.
If theological literature had never expressed itself
more definitely about the mystical course of events,
Annunciation pictures and poems could not have dealt
with any other moments than those dealt with in the
294
CHAP. XT THE DfOAENATION 295
last chapter that is to say, the meeting of Gabriel
and Mary would not have implied anything more
than a delivery and an acceptance of an auspicious
message.
Pious imagination, however, was not content with
any incomplete indications, but wanted to know when
and how the Highest had connected His being with
human flesh ; and it seemed most natural that the
miracle should have taken place at the Annunciation
itself, which is so closely described in the Gospels, and
which, by reason of this description, became so dear a
subject for religious meditation.
It is not easy to decide at what time the two sacred
events first began to be associated, but it seems as if the
Incarnation were described in immediate connection with
the Annunciation in one of the " Christian sibyllines,"
which are thought to date from the end of the second
century. The expressions in this writing, however, are
so obscure that the interpretation may be disputed.
Freely translated (from Geffcken's German translation
of the original, which was inaccessible), the passage
in question runs as follows : " ... At first Gabriel
revealed his mighty and holy shape, then the Archangel
addressed Mary : ' Prepare, Virgin, to receive God in
thy spotless bosom.' While he thus spake, God breathed
His grace over the tender maiden. But she was seized
with amazement and confusion when she heard it, and
she trembled; her mind was stupefied and her heart
beat fast at the marvellous message. But before long
she rejoiced and her hearfc was warmed by the voice
( c ob der Stimme '). She smiled like a bride, her cheek
flushed, joy strengthened her (' ergotzte sie'), shyness
cast a spell on her, and her courage returned.
But the word flew into her body, in time became
296 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
flesh, and, quickened in the womb, formed itself
into human shape, and the boy was born in a virgin
birth." 1
If it is not unequivocally asserted in this description
that the Incarnation stood in a direct connection with
Gabriel's greeting, and if one may perhaps be doubtful
as to what voice it was which warmed the Virgin's heart,
the Church Fathers in the following centuries allowed
no doubt that the Annunciation had brought about
the Conception. S. Augustine expressly says that it
was God who spoke through the mouth of the angel,
and that the Virgin was fertilised through her ear : " et
virgo per aurem impregnabatur." 2 The same thought
that the spark of life penetrated Mary's body while she
was listening submissively to Gabriel's words is ex-
pressed among others by S. Zeno, S. Proclus, and S.
Fulgentius. 3 S. Bphraim says that the divine embryo
was produced without Mary losing her virginity,
" because the Son abandoned the old way of life, and in
a new way, unknown both to nature and the under-
standing, descended into her body." 4 S. Gaudentius
employs quite visual expressions when he describes
how God " glides in through Mary's motherly ear to fill
her womb," 5 and the poets do not shrink from clothing
the concrete idea in terms equally unreserved. Sedulius
sings of how the chaste womb was suddenly transformed
into a temple of God, and how the untouched woman,
who knew no man, conceived the child by the word :
Domns pudici pectoris
Templum repente fit Dei ;
Intacta nesciens virum
Verbo creavit filium. 6
Ennodius compares the effects of Gabriel's words with
a natural fertilisation :
xv INOABNATION 297
Quod lingua jecit semen est,
In came verbnm stringitur.?
And Fortunatus or, rather, the unknown writer of the
great hymn "Quern terra, pontus, aethera," ascribed
to Fortunatus uses a similar kind of expression ;
Mirantur ergo saecula
Quod angelns fert semina ;
Quod autem virgo conciplt
Et corde credens accipit. 8
The naiVe idea of a fertilisation through the ear which
explained the virginity of the Conception intelligibly, 8
and which could, besides, be harmonised with the utter-
ance in the Gospel of John that the "Word became
flesh" survived in religious poetry until the later
Middle Ages. In some of the numerous songs on the
"Joys of Mary," the pious address Mary with the
following often-quoted verses :
Gaude, Virgo, Mater Christi
Quae per aurem concepisti
Gabriele niintio. 9
This expression has indeed been explained by a modern
Catholic author as referring to the Virgin's spiritual
acceptance of Gabriel's message. According to Lon
Gautier, the poet only desired to express that the
Incarnation took place in a supernatural and inexplic-
able way after Mary had heard with her ears the words
of Annunciation. 10 But even if so spiritual a construc-
tion could, by a strained use of all permissible methods
of interpretation, be applied to those Latin poems in
which Gabriel is spoken of as a " semmiverbius," and
Mary as "verbo foeta," 11 yet we have no right to
assume a figurative meaning in those popular songs
which describe the mystery of the Incarnation with
298 THE SACKED SHRI1SFE CHAP.
similar expressions. A German scourging song of the
year 1349 says quite unambiguously :
Diu "botschaft gie zeir oran in
der hailig gaist flos damit in
der worat in ir libe daz
das cristns got und mensche waz.
"The message entered through her ear, and the Holy
Ghost flew in with it, and so worked in her body that
Christ became God and man." 12
A concrete view of the Conception through the
ear also appears in a great number of the German
mediaeval hymns written by professional poets, and
it even seems as if scholastic theology itself was
not quite a stranger to this point of view. Thus
S, Bernard says in one of his sermons, " missus est
interim Gabriel angelus a Deo, ut verbum patris per
aurem virginis in ventrem et mentem ipsius eructaret,
ut eadem via intraret antidotum, qua venenum intra-
verat," i.e. the angel Gabriel was sent by God to vomit
the Father's word through the Virgin's ear into her
womb (" venter ") and mind, that thus the antidote "might
enter by the same way as the poison. 13 The poison, as
may be easily understood, is the word of temptation
which the serpent dropped into the ears of Eve. Bernard
here employs a comparison between the serpent and
Gabriel, which had already been made use of by S.
Zeno and S. Ephraim M in connection with the fertilisa-
tion through the ear.
The assumption of a "conceptio per aurem" was,
however, only one of the hypotheses by the aid of which
it was attempted to explain the miraculous Incarnation.
In one of Ambrosius's hymns it is said that the word
became flesh by reason of a mystical aspiration without
xv INCARNATION 299
the seal of Mary's virginity being broken. 15 It is
perhaps this hymn which has occasioned the change
in the recently quoted Latin song, which in a collection
of Italian scourging chants reads as follows :
Gaude, Virgo, Mater Christ!
Qnae per flamm concepisti,
Gabrlele niintio. 16
An old legend, which in its earliest form is found in
the writings of the oriental heretic Bardesanes, actually
describes what happened at this kind of Incarnation.
Gabriel, we are told, "with one finger lifted Mary's
tunic and breathed upon her bosom. In the same
moment the Virgin knew that a life had awakened in
her womb." 17 Just as the idea of a conception through
the word could, at any rate partially, be derived from
a too materialistic interpretation of the philosophical
doctrine of the logos, so also the idea of the fertilising
breath was supported by a misunderstanding of what
the Bible says about the Holy Spirit. We think of
such an influence of language over thought when we
read in S. Birgitta's visions of how Jesus explains Mary's
motherhood: "For in truth my mother was a virgin
and a mother. She had not become a mother through
connection with a man, but she was inflated by my
father's and my breath." 1S
However important results the misunderstanding of
words and ideas may have brought about in this and so
many other connections, yet it is not in them that we
have to look for the first cause of the mystical views of
God's incarnation. The source both of the apocryphal
and of the canonical narrative is that ancient popular
superstition from which so many elements in Christian
tradition can be derived. Thus the notion that the wind,
the air, and the breath can bring about fertilisation
300 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
both, in men and animals is a frequently recurring
" Volkergedanke," which we are not surprised to recog-
nise in the line " quae per flamen concepisti" 19 Another
idea, likewise universal, which, has already been men-
tioned in the chapter on S. Anne, appears in an old
Italian lauda, according to wMch the Incarnation was
brought about by the angel giving Mary the palm-
branch and a sweet-smelling fruit. 20 Flowers and fruits
have, in legends, often made virgins into mothers.
Therefore it even seems probable that the green and
blossoming branch which artists placed in Gabriel's
hand has often been regarded in accordance with the
popular point of view not as a symbol of virginity,
but as a means of procuring a pure motherhood.
The belief in the magical effects of fruits, flowers,
and scents is, however, like all other superstitions, of
a folklorist rather than an aesthetic interest. For the
history of the poetic idea it does not much matter in
which more or less peculiar way God is thought to have
joined Himself to His human mother. The essential
thing is that the Incarnation whether it was a sound
that passed through her ear, or a scent that was breathed
in, or whether the Highest Himself "kain durch
beslossen Porte" allowed Mary to remain as inviolably
virginal as before. The actual course of the mystic
fertilisation has not of course admitted of direct descrip-
tion. The pious visionaries have, indeed, thought that
they perceived how Mary received the Highest into
her womb with joy thus S. Birgitta hears the Virgin
relate how " at these words my Son was immediately
conceived in my womb with indescribable joy to my
soul and all my body" 21 and they have pictured in
their imagination how the three persons in the Godhead
betook themselves in solemn procession from Heaven to
xv THE IKTCABNATIOX 301
Solomon's new Temple, i.e. the Virgin's bosom, in which.
for nine months the Son was pleased to take up His
abode. 22 In poems and sermons, however, such accounts
of the connection between God and the human body,
which in their minute circumstantiality are quite bizarre,
are seldom to be found. When treating of the Incar-
nation mystery, the poetry of the Church has tactfully
enough employed a symbolic method of expression..
The Conception has been explained by the help of
similes referring to natural phenomena, in which men
thought they saw some analogy to fertilisation. Such
a metaphorical notion must indeed offer itself almost
unconsciously to the religious mind.
If, as can easily be understood, the Incarnation was
a subject to be handled with caution so long as the
earthly mother and the embodied God were regarded as
two human beings, the motive lost its delicate character
as soon as the mother and Son were looked upon as
representing great universal ideas. That which was
incarnated at the Conception appeared Indeed to the
religious imagination as a separate visible figure, but
at the same time it embraced a whole world of ideas
which are not easily connected with any anthropomorphic
shape. In relation to mankind, God represented what
is great, high, and supernatural; all that is separated
by the firmament and. the space thereunder from the
earth, was His kingdom. When the imagination looked
for sights which combined what was sublime in His
being, it found them in the great spectacle of the
heavens in the clouds, the sky, the sun, or in the blue
vault itself.
The contrasted being, again, who at the Incarnation
was for the first and only time united by a miracle with
its opposite, was for its part typical of a wide circle of
302 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
ideas. " Mankind against God " might be changed into
the antithesis " earth against heaven." Mary was the
highest human being, the purest and most perfect
creature born of the race of Eve, and accordingly the
whole of earthly creation was included in the person
of her who was called to meet the Creator Himself. She
stood for the sea, the earth, and the fields just as He
who became her Son represented the sky and all that
had its place beyond. Thus it was something more than
a union of two personalities that was consummated at
Gabriel's greeting to Mary. Not only were two bio-
logically incompatible principles united at the moment
when virginity and motherhood met for the first time,
but a cosmic miracle took place, for two kingdoms which
had been separated by all space were blended when
heaven and earth became one in Mary's womb.
The idea of a marriage between the earth and the
sky is one of those " folk-thoughts " which are met with
even in the lower races, and which recur time after
time in myth and legend. That this thought became
associated with the Incarnation was all the more natural
since the Annunciation was celebrated just at the break
of spring, when the earth is warmed by the proximity
of the sun. The Ave too had, according to a prevalent
Catholic belief, been uttered at sunset, when the light of
heaven seemed to unite itself on the horizon with earth.
It is not surprising, therefore, that mediaeval preachers
often explain the mystery of the Incarnation in terms
that refer to natural phenomena. "The heaven sinks
down, and the earth rises " this is how the Annuncia-
tion is described in Cornelius a Lapide's collection of
commentaries ; 2S and Heinrich von Loufenberg sings
in similar terms of " die Wunder der Menschwerdung
Gottes":
THE ES T CAENATIO^ T sos
Sich het har ab gebogen
der timel zu der erd,
der umbkrels 1st gesinogen
ein einen punct gezogen
in einer niaget werd. 24
That Heaven bowed down to earth was a thing which
had never happened, and which, just because it was
inconceivable, emphasised the miraculous element in
the union of the opposites, God and man. For the same
reasons, however, the comparison could not contribute
to explain the great paradox of religion ; but there
was another approach of the firmament to the earth
that could often be actually observed. When the
sky descended and emptied itself in rain, it was as if
heaven had connected itself with earth ; and the con-
nection was fruitful, for the crops of the field blossomed
forth after the downfall. The moisture of the clouds
had begotten the vegetation. Such an idea, as is well
known, has been at the root of many mythologies.
Among all people whose life depended upon cornfields
and pasturage, the clouds, the rain, and the dew have
been good deities.
It was easy for Christian writers who inherited their
supply of similes from the Old Testament to represent
the Incarnation under the image of a cloud which let its
fertilising rain fall npon the ground. According to the
Tahvist story of the Creation it was, indeed, the rain
that made the earth fruitful. The barren, sterile tracts
in Canaan, Syria, and North Mesopotamia had taught
the Jews, and those nations from which they borrowed
their ideas about the world, to regard moisture as the
type of all wealth. 25 In the Psalms, as in the Prophets,
the rain and the dew are continually used as images
of blessing. G-od's wrath expressed itself in sending a
304 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
drought on those who had not listened to His commands,
but His favour sent rain upon the faithful, and His
mildness sank down like a soft dew over the field. 26
These agricultural similes are used also, in a derived
meaning, to express all the spiritual effects of the
pleasure or displeasure of the Highest. We read that
the heart which has turned from God is dry and barren
like an unfruitful field ; but the answering of prayer and
grace are a heavenly dew which sinks down over the
mind to purify and refresh it In this respect the
earliest fathers follow the terminology of the Jewish
writers ; and the similes of the cloud, the dew, and the
rain are continually used by mediaeval scholastics and
mystics, no less than by modern pious writers, from
Santa Theresa and Bunyan down to the modern
preachers. 27
Those authors who possessed an independent
imagination have naturally known how to introduce
a new meaning into the old metaphors, or to deepen
their meaning by their manner of drawing the com-
parisons. The imitators, on the other hand, employ
them quite mechanically, just as signs are employed in
a prearranged cipher. They are certain of being
understood, for the meteorological phenomena have all
received time-honoured and definite meanings. The
downpour of the heavens represents in conventional
Catholic symbolism the Word of God and the divine
grace and mercy. The clouds represent the prophets
and apostles who go forth over the world to illumine
mankind with their shining light, to frighten them
with their thunders, and to comfort them with the rain
of their mild words. 28 But the cloud also, and with
much greater reason, stands for a covering for the God
who hovered above the earth, and the rain is an
xv IXCAKXATIOST 305
image of the highest gift of His mercy, which descended
upon mankind in the Incarnation.
That Mary should receive her place in this system
of similes is a natural consequence of the symbolism
in which her being was expressed. As has already been
mentioned, in contrast to the Divinity she represents
the barren earth as opposed to the fertilising Heaven ;
but in her virginity she was also a flower which needed
refreshing by the dews of heaven in order to unfold.
In her beauty she was a garden that would have
withered up had not heaven sent its dew ; and in her
chastity she was, as the fathers expressed it in an
agricultural simile, "a field unfurrowed by any culti-
vation, which gave a harvest when it was watered
by the rain/ 729 All the Bible passages in which the
blessing of rain is spoken of won a new meaning, there-
fore, when placed in connection with the Holy Virgin.
Thus, to take one example out of many, a prophecy
about Mary and her Child was seen in Isaiah's often
quoted verses about the " cloud that should rain justice " :
" Drop down ye heavens from above and let the skies
pour down righteousness : let the earth open and let
them bring forth salvation and let righteousness spring
up together ; I, the Lord, have created it " (Isaiah
xlv. 8). As originally written, this text did not
indeed admit of any application to the mystery of
the Incarnation, but the Vulgate had introduced so
many personifications of ideas in its rendering, that
no great effort was needed to see in it a prognostication
of the conception of the Divine Man: "Korate, coeli,
desuper, et nubes pluant Justum: aperiatur terra, et
germinet Salvatorem, et justitia oriatur simul: ego
Dominus creavi eum." The ground that was to open
was interpreted as Mary's womb, and the harvest that
306 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
was to spring from the virginal mother-earth was the
Saviour Himself, with whose birth justice was to go
forth over the world. In the clouds it would be most
natural to see an abode for the Highest, from whose
being the incarnate Son was sent forth. They
have, towever, in accordance with the time-honoured
symbolism, also been explained in this connection as
referring to the prophets and preachers who, with the
rain of their word, foretold the Saviour's advent.
The prophecies in Hosea vi. 3 and xiv. 5 could be
interpreted on the same principle : " His going forth
is prepared as the morning ; and he shall come unto us
as the rain, as the latter and former rain upon the
earth" "I will be as the dew unto Israel; he shall
grow as the lily and cast forth his roots as Lebanon/ 7
In the Apocryphal book of Ecclesiasticus, which is not
included in Protestant Bibles, there were also some
verses that could be spontaneously applied to Mary :
" Dixi : Eogabo hortum meum plantationum, et in-
ebriabo prati mei fructum " (xxiv. 42). The garden,
we are told in Cornelius a Lapide's exposition, is Mary ;
He who waters the garden is God, and the water is His
grace, which is outpoured over Mary. 30 When once
such a method of interpretation was recognised, it was
naturally possible to decipher references to the Incarna-
tion mystery in all those Bible passages in which there
is mention of the blessings of moisture, dew, and rain. 31
There is no need to summarise here the different
chapters and verses which can thus be taken to support
the doctrine of the Virgin's miraculous motherhood,
but it is necessary to pause over a certain story in the
Book of Judges which has given rise to one of the most
peculiar symbols of Mary in art and poetry.
It is related of Gideon that, when he was made
xv THE INCAKNATION 307
judge of Ms people, lie demanded a sign in order to be
convinced that God favoured his Intent (Judges vi.
36-40). "And Gideon said unto God: If thou wilt
save Israel by my hand, as thou hast said, behold I
will put a fleece of wool in the floor, and if the dew
be on the fleece only, and if it be dry upon all the
earth beside, then shall I know that thou wilt save
Israel by mine hand, as thou hast said. And it was so :
for he rose up early on the morrow and thrust the fleece
together and wringed the dew out of the fleece, a
bowl-full of water. And Gideon said unto God, Let not
thy anger be hot against me, and I will speak but this
once : let me prove, I pray thee, but this once with the
fleece ; let it now be dry only upon the fleece, and upon
all the ground let there be dew. And God did so that
night : for it was dry upon the fleece only, and there
was dew upon all the ground."
This narrative has not been left unutilised by those
interpreters who searched the Old Testament for
prophesies of coming events in the Church's history.
Thus Augustine has given it an ingenious meaning which
has been brought forward by many authors after him.
The dew that fell upon the fleece but allowed the earth
to remain dry, was, it was said, Christ who descended
to the Jews to redeem them ; but as the Jews rejected
His message, the dew at the second trial left the wool
untouched and moistened instead the fields of the
heathen. The gift of Heaven was in this explanation
compared with the incarnate God. 32 Mary had as
yet no place in the simile. However, Ambrosius,
Augustine's contemporary, was able to find something
in Gideon's miracle applicable to her. 33 Indeed,
nothing was more natural than to see in the fleece, which
was moistened by the clouds of the sky, a symbol of
308 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
the virgin womb ; and when once this association
of ideas had arisen, a further reference to Mary could
be found in the sixth verse of the seventy-second
psalm. 34 For the Vulgate, like the older Protestant
translations, renders the word "mown grass," 35 which
occurs in this verse, by the word " vellus " or fleece :
" He shall come down like rain upon the fleece, and like
dropping dew upon the fields/'
In a number of commentaries, attention was paid
only to that explanation of the miraculous motherhood
which Gideon's first trial had offered. The mystery
of the dew, which no one can observe in its fall,
was connected with the mystery of the Virgin's
conception. In its Annunciation office, the liturgy
adopted the Psalmist's old simile, "sicut pluvia
in vellus descendisti," and devotional literature com-
mented in detail on the import of the comparison. Thus
we read in the Jungfru Marie ortagdrd that the
Holy Ghost came to the Virgin secretly as the dew,
whose falling no one can observe. 36 The fact, again,
that the mild falling of the dew could not hurt the soft
wool, offered a comparison with the divine fertilisation
which left Mary's virginity intact. Thus John, the monk
of Salzburg, sung in his poem Uterus virgineus :
Verse 4. Als die woll fauclit wart
TOD. des hymels towe,
Also empfieng in kauscher art
die edel jungkfrawe.
Noch das fel nje wart versert
yon dem regen suesse.
Also wart maidleich zucht erwert
in des engels gruesse, 87
Here, as in the preceding example, apparently nothing
is said about the earth being moistened by dew at the
second trial, while the fleece lay dry upon the threshing
xv TSCASSATIQN 309
floor. On the other hand, Hugo de S. Victor says, slightly
modifying Augustine's ancient interpretation, that the
earth may be regarded on this occasion as a symbol of
the Church. The Virgin, he thinks, was indeed the
first to be gladdened by God's grace, but after her,
the community of the faithful, which extends over all
the world, had its share of the heavenly dew. 38 Other
authors hare succeeded in placing the miracle of the
second night in a still closer connection with Madonna
symbolism. Just as the fleece, i.e. Mary, absorbed the
moisture of the air while the surrounding earth was dry,
so she alone remained untouched while all the ground
was drenched in dew. This thought is expressed in a
hymn in the office for Notre Dame de Lourdes :
Dura, torret arescens tumus,
Tu rore sola spargeris ;
Telltire circnm rorida,
Intacta sola permanes. 39
It is hardly too audacious to suppose that the dew in
this hymn was understood in two opposite ways first
as a symbol of grace and then as a symbol of sin. 40 By
such a departure from the time-honoured interpretation,
it has been possible to see in Gideon's miracle a prog-
nostication of the two sides of Mary's being that is
to say, the first miracle refers to her supernatural
motherhood, while the second sets forth her unique
virginity.
The result of all these expositions has been that the
fleece in the Book of Judges has become one of the most
frequent symbols of the Madonna. " Vellus G-edeonis "
is never left out in the enumeration of epithets glorify-
ing the Virgin in the litanies. When the emblems of
Mary were represented in art, it was never omitted to
give a place by the shut gate, the enclosed garden and
310 THE SACEED SHEDSTE CHAP.
the lofty tower, to that miraculous fleece, which by
its moisture and its dryness indicated the Madonna's
motherhood and virginity. Often, as for example in a
Madonna picture at Nystad, in Finland, Gideon himself
was represented kneeling before the fleece, 41 for the
old Jewish judge was a type of all Christian knights,
whose foremost duty was the worship and service of
the Madonna. As the first man who had seen a miracle
which foreshadowed Mary's virgin - motherhood, he
became a patron of the brotherhood of the Golden
Fleece that high and famous knightly Order which
made the "Vellus Gedeonis" of Jewish legend as
famous as the fleece of Colchis.
Thus, in the treatment of the symbolism of rain
by theologians and poets, we find many traits corre-
sponding to the common popular superstition that
the moisture of the sky can fructify not only the earth
but also human beings. Indeed it is probable that
the story of the Saviour's incarnation was originally
influenced by ancient myths as to virgins who had
given birth to children from being exposed to rain or
dew. As met with in Church poetry, however, the
symbols have no immediate connection with the popular
ideas of magic. They are used, it must be presumed,
for a purely literary purpose as a means of explaining
and visualising a miracle which in itself is considered
to be too unfathomable to be penetrated by thought.
However great or little may be their value in illustrating
theological dogmas, they have at any rate poetically
fulfilled an important function. That old and popular
world philosophy, which the poems unintentionally
recall to our memory, gives a mythic greatness to the
theological dogma. We seem to recognise the agri-
cultural symbolism of the legends of Osiris and Demeter
xv THE INCARNATION 311
when we read the series of similes In which Ephralm Syras
epitomised the life-career of the incarnate God : He
poured out His dew and His living rain over Mary, the
thirsting earth. As the corn sinks Into the ground, so He
descended under the ground. But He arose like the
sheaf and the new crop/' ^ One thinks of all those
"sons of the ram" In the American traditions of
Montezuma, when one reads of the Virgin, a "virga
fertills" who hecame "fecunda coeli rore." Even if
one overlooks all the mythological and folklorist
parallels, the religious narrative acquires a poetical
tone through the nature pictures by the help of which
it is explained. How effective is not that com-
parison of the mystery of the Incarnation with the
invisible fall of the dew ? Mary, says Ambroslus, took
the Divinity into her entire being like a mild dew,
without her virginity suffering any loss." 43 In old
Swedish verse the same thought is expressed in the
poem " VSx frus pina " :
Som eit blit regn tha kom han nidlir
then signadha jomfru tok han widhr. 44
Mechthild von Magdeburg, the German seeress,
develops the simile with some fresh details :
Der siisze Thau der nnbeginnenden Dreifaltigkeit
Ergosz sick aus dem QueH der Gottlieit
In der auserwahlten Jungfrau Eeinigkeit
Uad dieser Blume Fraeht 1st Gott der unsterbHche. 45
Splendid as this piling up of attributes may appear,
the great mystery has been still more beautifully described
In a little English song from the time of Henry VI. :
He came also still
Where His mother was,
As dew in April
That falls on the grass.
312 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAR
He came also still
To His mother's bower,
As dew in April
That falls on the flower.
He came also still
Where His mother lay,
As dew in April
That falls on the spray.
Mother and maiden
Was never one but she.
Well may such a lady
God's mother be. 46
It was impossible for pictorial art to illustrate all
the import of thoughts and emotions expressed in
Annunciation poems. In the nature of the case, the
invisible fall of the dew could not be portrayed but only
described. Again, the effect which the mild rain might
have produced in the compositions had probably not
been appreciated by art-lovers in the Middle Ages and
Renaissance, who placed the clear sunny air foremost
among all atmospheric phenomena. Painting could,
indeed, suggest what the symbols had to explain. Fra
Angelico and Filippo Lippi, for example, could well
express the stillness of the great mystery; but if it
was required to give a picture of the mystic event,
then natural phenomena were unserviceable as subjects
for representation. Painters and sculptors preferred
to illustrate the more naive, but at the same time
more graphic view, according to which G-od at the
Incarnation descended to the Virgin in human shape.
Such representations are found as early as in the
first centuries. In the great mosaic at S. Maria
Maggiore, which is thought to date from the fifth
century, we see above the Madonna a floating angel,
and opposite it a dove, i.e. the Holy G-host, who flies
xv THE 313
down towards the Virgin's head Gabriel stands by
Mary's side, with his right hand raised in the conven-
tional gesture of speaking. 47 It is conceivable that the
two angel-figures both represent Gabriel during different
moments in Ms course towards earth. (As has been
earlier mentioned, successive moments were often repre-
sented in one picture.) According to such an inter-
pretation, the dove might refer to what would happen
when the promise of the announcing angel had been
fulfilled ; but if in this case it is uncertain whether the
Incarnation was regarded as simultaneous with the
Annunciation, there can be no doubt that in later art
the two events were represented, in harmony with the
dogmatic teaching, as standing in immediate connection
with one another.
Taddeo di Bartolo and Simone Martini have exactly
illustrated in their compositions the process described
by the Church's poets and dogmatists. We see how
Gabriel's words of greeting, printed in gold, extend from
his mouth to Mary's ear, as if to open a way for God's
Incarnation. At the Virgin's ear terminates another
golden, beam, which has its starting-point at the
uppermost edge of the picture, where Simone Martini
painted a group of seraphs, and Taddeo di Bartolo a
floating Saviour surrounded by seraphs. 48 Along this
shining way the dove of the Holy Spirit descends
towards the Madonna. There are, indeed, not many
pictures which thus make two lines meet in the Virgin's
ear, but the stream of light which proceeds from heaven
to the Madonna is seldom missing in representations of
the Annunciation. Unimportant variations were intro-
duced into the motive, but the fundamental thought
itself was maintained unaltered.
During the early Renaissance, it was usually from a
314 THE SAGEED SHRINE CHAP.
picture of the Saviour that the golden raj issued.
Later it was often preferred to represent God the
Father Himself, instead of the Son. Piero dei Franceschi,
Lorenzo Lotto, Antoniazzo Bomano, Mariotto Alberti-
nelli, 49 and others portrayed an old man who, from the
clouds, stretched forth his hands towards earth. In
some pictures by Fra Angelico and Filippo Lippi, for
example the hand alone, as a pars pro toto, has served
to represent the divine figure ; 50 whereas Benedetto
Bonfigli, again, in harmony with the idea of the Incarna-
tion of the Word, makes the golden beam issue from
God the Father's mouth. 51 A German glass-painting
has gone still further in realism by placing a tube In
God's hand, through which He blows forth His spirit
over Mary. 52 In contrast to these naively graphic
pictures we have compositions, such as those of Crivelli
and Andrea del Sarto, in which the dove and the golden
line descend not from any human figure, but from a
cloud in the sky. 53 Finally, in Titian's Annunciation, at
Treviso, all the anthropomorphic and symbolic elements
have been abandoned. The light, as in a faithful land-
scape painting, streams in rays upon Mary from a sun
hidden behind a dark cloud.
The actual union between God and Mary is repre-
sented, as has been said, by a dove descending upon
the Virgin's head. In a number of compositions the
dove appears independent and alone, i.e. without its
path being indicated by any ray of light, and without a
picture of God the Father who sends It forth. Some
artists, again, have given the entire Trinity a place in
their pictures, with the dove a little way from the
Virgin's ear, the Father in a cloud in Heaven, and
the Saviour in the middle between the two. The Son
is represented as a little suckling, who glides or runs
xv THE INCAENATION 315
down to His earthly mother. He Is often a stout "putto,"
who, with easy grace, "bears a great cross on Ms shoulder: 54
As illustrations to the mystical view of the solemn
procession of the Trinity to ic Solomon's new Temple/'
these pictures are of an exquisite naivet& Unfortunately,
orthodox theology has had no conception of their charm.
On the contrary, the figure of the little boy has caused
the dogmatists many misgivings. They saw in it a
revival of an old heresy which the Church had thought
already overcome. For the view that God descended to
earth in bodily form was a confirmation of Eutyches'
old teaching, that the Saviour's human nature came from
heaven and was not formed in the Virgin's body. It
was, therefore, a natural anxiety for the defence of true
doctrine that drove Benedict XIV. to forbid, with the
might of his papal authority, all representations of the
Second Person in pictures of the Annunciation. 55
To summarise the results of our inquiries in this
chapter, many different theories of the Incarnation
mystery come to view in the treatment of the Virgin's
Annunciation in art and poetry ; but certain essential
features are common to all the varying representations.
Ever since the fourth century if not earlier it has been
held that in one way or another the spark of life descended
into the Madonna's womb at the moment when Gabriel
pronounced his greeting. By this supernatural fertilisa-
tion, according to the dogma common to all Christian
creeds, Mary's absolute virginity was in no way affected.
Moreover, the miracle by which she was transformed into
a mother was one which could not even disturb or frighten
her. It confirmed the messenger's word that she need
not fear what would happen to her. In strained, but
often poetical and apposite interpretations, the Catholic
theologians and poets sought to show how mildly and
316 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP, xv
quietly was accomplished that great work, by which
the laws of nature were broken and the irreconcilable
opposites of thought united with one another. The
light fall of the dew was commonly cited in explanation
of the Virgin fertilisation, but this was only one of the
similes by which the Conception of God was illustrated.
The remaining symbols of the Incarnation, however,
have all been applied also to the virginal childbirth,
and they will therefore be treated in connection with
that event, which availed as little as the Incarnation
to disturb even the anatomical virginity of Mary. At
this point of our investigation there is only one circum-
stance to which attention may be directed, viz. the
fact that at the actual moment of Annunciation the
earthly woman was transformed into a tabernacle for
the Highest. Her body became, to use a pious ex-
pression, a lantern that shone and shimmered with
beauty from the moment that G-od was enclosed in
it. 56 All that was prepared by her miraculous conception
and during her pure and virginal youth is fulfilled in
the Incarnation. With this event begins a new period
in Mary's life, during which she is not only the purest
of human beings, but also something far more than a
human being.
CHAPTEE XVI
THE VISITATION
Abrazase la Madre milagrosa
Be Cristo con la inadre soberana,
De su profeta Juan ; la nina hermosa
Virgen, con la casada vieja, anciana ;
La espina seca con la bella rosa,
La bianca nieve con la roja grana,
Pone de amor dnlcisima coyunda
La.fertil Sara a la Raquel fecunda.
ESCOBAE Y HESTDOZA,
Historia de la Virgen Madre de Dios, Canto adv.
IF the theological commentaries which have been sum-
marised in tlte preceding pages, the Church's view of
the Annunciation has been by no means exhaustively
treated, for it has not been our intention to present
a complete account of all the symbolical thoughts
associated by pious devotion with the meeting of
Gabriel and Mary. So far as art and poetry are con-
cerned with the actual message of the angel, nothing
more need be said. There is, however, one detail in
Annunciation pictures which points to subsequent events
in the Madonna's life, and which is therefore worthy of a
few remarks in this chapter ; for the expressions of polite-
ness exchanged between Mary and her heavenly guest
have given rise to some remarkable interpretations.
Since the sacred history, in each of its chapters,
affords a pattern for human life, the high messenger's
visit to Mary must also have had a more dignified
317
318 THE SAOEED SHEINE CHAP.
character than any earthly visit The Virgin, as
appears from the poems about her childhood, was
modest and courteous in all her bearing. It is natural,
therefore, that artists often made her bow in humble
welcome to the angel Gabriel, again, belonged to the
heavenly circle, the "himmelska herrskapit" to use
S. Birgitta's expression in whose social life courtesy
was supposed to have reached perfection. It is incon-
ceivable, therefore, that he would not have bowed pro-
foundly on entering Mary's room. Further, the greet-
ings of the angel and the Virgin were based not merely
on common politeness. Mary did homage to Gabriel
as God's messenger; and he humbled himself before
her who had been preferred before all others to serve
the purpose of the Highest. Again, they were both
bowed to the ground in veneration of the mystery
which was announced. It is thus easy to understand
the numerous paintings and sculptures in which Gabriel
and Mary kneel opposite one another. The religious
import of the motive is beautifully set forth in these
pious compositions, which are devotional both in sub-
ject and aim; and such a disposition is, from the
purely pictorial standpoint, uniquely effective. The
Tuscan sculptors in terra-cotta had an eye for it when
they represented in their " lunette " reliefs Gabriel and
Mary kneeling and stretching their slender figures to-
wards one another in an arch over the flowering lily. 1
There are, however, many compositions in which
the position of Gabriel and Mary cannot be explained
merely as expressing devotion and mutual courtesy.
The Virgin is represented in these pictures as standing
or sitting, and Gabriel kneels in humble homage which
seems to be directed neither to God nor to the mystery,
but to Mary herself. 2 According to the pious view, such
xvi THE VISITATION 319
a grouping is just as correct as the disposition of two
kneeling figures. The angel, it is said, worships Mary,
because he sees in her, even now, a tabernacle of the
Incarnate God; 3 and the Virgin can accept Gabriel's
homage without lack of humility because the Highest
has been united with her being. Thus, in order to
justify those pictures in which Gabriel alone bows to
the ground, it has only to be pointed out that it is
not the Annunciation itself that is illustrated, but
rather the Incarnation which took place simultaneously
with it.
We do not mean to assert, however, that the artists
made this distinction clear to themselves when they
represented Gabriel's visit to Mary. It was probably no
dogmatic tendency which led Piero dei Franceschi in
S. Francesco at Arezzo to make of Mary a mighty
queen, who in majestic pride stands high and untouched
when Gabriel remains kneeling at her threshold.
On the other hand, it is indisputable that a definite
theological point of view can be introduced into such
representations ; and what interests us is that in Piero
dei Francesehi's fresco, for example, we seem to see how
the Virgin's figure has been penetrated at the Incarna-
tion by a dignity which sharply contrasts with the
modest grace of the Virgin of the Presentation and the
Annunciation pictures.
j
The first chapters in the Madonna's history
offered to artists and poets, as well as to theological
writers, motives for an ideal description of childhood.
According to this description, Mary is a young virgin,
or rather a little girl who unites in herself all child-
hood's grace and innocence. Protected in the secluded
rooms of the Temple and fed by angels, she grows up
320 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
like a white dove a little female Nazarite, whom
nothing of the world's impurity has had the chance to
defile. Such an innocent child was she when she was
given by the Temple priests into the care of the aged
Joseph, as a foster-daughter rather than as a wife ; and
she was just as innocent a child still, when one evening
at sunset she was surprised by the greeting of the
announcing angel.
"When the Incarnation was accomplished, Mary did
not lose an atom of her purity. The charm of innocence
rests upon her being now as before ; but that trait of
gay graciousness is, if not extinguished, at any rate over-
shadowed by other more prominent qualities. The
woman who became the Mother of God could indeed
remain a virgin, but she could not, from any point of
view either religious or poetic remain a child. She
is mystically wedded to the Highest. The child Mary
gives place to the queen of earthly creation ; the little
girl who had so lately sung and danced in God's Temple
becomes the Mother, who will experience the highest
pride of all mothers and live through their deepest
sorrow. Her person no longer calls forth the kindly,
and therefore to a certain degree superior, admiration
accorded to prettiness and charm; but she compels
reverence by reason of the calling to which she has
been consecrated.
To a reverence of this kind, according to the Catholic
view, Mary makes claim, more than at any other time,
during the period before she gives birth to her child,
i.e. while she still carries the Highest in her womb.
As long as her being is connected in this physical
sense with God, she partakes of all the worship with
which mankind approaches Him. It is in her character
of God-bearer that she achieves her greatness, and it is
xvi THE VISITATION 321
from this character that all her other dignities can
be logically derived. The same stately simile was
applied to Mary as was used for the Monstrance, when
it was said, repeating the verse from the Psalms :
"He made the sun to be His tabernacle" "in sole
posuit tabernaculum suum." 4 Her body was glorified
as the abode in which God had for nine months been
pleased to dwell, and numerous metaphors were in-
vented which varied the- idea that she was a receptacle
for the greatest and highest of all conceivable contents. 5
In this way the shrine became a subject for religious
poetry, and Mary, as a shrine, was adorned with poetic
epithets, which were often as precious as the jewels and
the fine metals on the reliquaries.
The delight with which pious imagination played
round the thought of the Madonna as a shrine appears
from the fact that, in spite of the delicacy of the subject,
it was attempted to embody the idea even in pictorial
art. During the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in
particular, the divine embryo was often portrayed in the
Virgin's body in representations of the Annunciation and
the visit, and of the Madonna alone. In pictures, the
tender figure was painted on the outside of Mary's
dress, or it was represented by the letters J.H.S. en-
closed by a halo. In sculpture, again, with the greater
realism permitted by the technique, a little window was
inserted in Mary's body, through which one could look
into the sacred room where the Son slept like a human
embryo. 6 Sometimes instead of this one Person, the
whole Trinity has been represented in the Virgin's
womb, in illustration of the hymns in which Mary is
invoked as "totius trinitatis . . . nobile triclinium." 7
There were also fashioned many wooden figures of the
Madonna, the front of which could be opened like a
322 THE SACBED SHRINE CHAP.
book and the inner walls of which were adorned with
pictures from the sacred history. 8 By these ingenious
works of sculpture a clear expression was given to the
thought that the entire life of the Saviour and the entire
redemption of mankind were hidden in their germs in
Mary.
While it was thus asserted that, during the period
when she bore the Highest in her womb, the Madonna
was raised to equality with God, on the other hand it
was never omitted to notice the features by which the
Virgin's life at this time corresponded or contrasted
with that of earthly women. Mary is a new Eve, who
has been purified from all the heaviness and earthliness
which cleaves to the race by reason of the first mother's
fall It is therefore natural that she who in her child-
hood and youth is the perfect Virgin, and who at the
Annunciation accepts with bridal modesty the Incar-
nation, in order to be rendered fruitful by the Highest
in the purest way conceivable, should also afford the
world a glorified picture of that condition which, for all
earthly women, is connected with pain, sickness, and
oppression of soul. It was not enough that such a
view could be deduced by analogy ; men thought that
in Luke's narrative of how Mary " arose in those days
and went into the hill country with haste" they had
found a clear proof that she was not inconvenienced by
her condition. The Church writers seem to have over-
looked the fact that even according to the freest
interpretation it would be impossible to place the visit
to Elizabeth long after the Annunciation, and they have
described the Virgin's visit to her kinswoman as if it
had taken place at a much later date. Unlike all other
women in her position, they say, she was not weighed
down by what she carried, but lightened by it. She was
xvi THE VISITATION 323
healthy and joyful throughout the time when she bore
the bearer of all things In her womb. 9 As a specific
proof of her health, Richard de S. Laurent cites the
statement that she could hasten over the mountain to
Elizabeth. 10 S. Bernard expresses himself with greater
caution, for he does not suppose that it could as yet have
been Inconvenient to her to walk, but he points out,
as something peculiar to Mary, the fact that she made
the journey in a joyful mood. " It is a great thing/'
says he, "to be a' virgin., but it Is in all respects a far
greater thing to be a virgin in spite of one's mother-
hood. Rightly was she, who alone had conceived her
child without sin and lust, released from the heavy
tedium by which all other wives are afflicted. Therefore,
in the beginning, when other mothers are most oppressed,
she could hasten up the mountains, full of joy, to help
Elizabeth." 11
The swiftness of Mary's walking, which was In-
terpreted as an expression of a joyful state of mind,
has often been set forth in Catholic commentaries even
after S. Bernard's time. It is also significant that, in the
office for the festival of the Visitation, there were intro-
duced the verses from the Song of Solomon concerning
the lover who hastens to his beloved (ii. 8, 9) : " Behold,
he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon
the hills . My beloved is like a roe or a young hart." 12
In a Visitation hymn from Spain it is told how even
nature partakes in Mary's gladness, and the mountains
rejoice at the approach of God :
Hierusalem in montana
adit virgo virginum,
Eerens titero latentem
Jesum Ckristum Dominum.
Plaudunt montes exsultantes
a conspectu numinum. 13
324 THE SACEED SHSINE CHAP.
These thoughts have been further embellished by
modern authors, who describe how Mary walks un-
wearied over the mountains, and hastens forward
without any need of rest: "The grass rejoices under
her feet, the flowers spring up, and mountains and hills
are glad when she draws nigh." M As Faber puts it, 15
and as Fiihrich painted it in his picture at Vienna, she is
accompanied by angels, " who shield the living Ark of
the Covenant, and worship the Lord of the world, who
is hidden in His Temple."
Catholic art and poetry, however, have only in
exceptional cases treated of the actual journey to Eliza-
beth. It is the meeting of the two future mothers which
has given rise to theological interpretation and aesthetic
representation. To the pious mind this moment must
appear to be above all others fraught with mystic sig-
nificance. As has been pointed out, Elizabeth's mother-
hood was a foreshadowing and a confirmation of Mary's
supernatural union with God. The miracle of the Old
Testament a barren woman who will bear a child
meets in the Visitation the miracle of the New Cove-
nant : a girl who becomes a mother and nevertheless
remains a virgin. Elizabeth represents the tradition by
which the future is connected with the past ; and she
is all the better suited for this r61e because she is a
woman of the tribe of Levi, who has grown up close
to the Temple mysteries and who has become wife of
the High Priest. It was, we are told, this familiarity
of hers with holy objects that led her to receive Mary
with meek submissiveness. She understood that it was a
new Ark of the Covenant that had crossed the threshold
of her home and that wrung from her those expressions of
veneration and worship with which she the first of all
earthly beings recognised the divinity of Mary's Child. 16
xvi VISITATION 325
By means of such ingenious, albeit far-fetched com-
binations of thought, the Visitation could be made an
inexhaustible subject of religious meditation, but to
art also this motive offered an attractive and profitable
task. The Annunciation pictures show that rich and
varying effects could be attained by the representation
of two figures bowing to one another in mutual rever-
ence. In the meeting of Mary and Elizabeth a similar
exchange of greetings has to be rendered, but here it
is not two slender and youthful bodies that graciously
lean towards one another. Elizabeth is bent with age,
and Mary is usually portrayed with the same departure
from the gospel narrative that marks the literary treat-
ment of the Visitation in a condition of indubitable
pregnancy. 17 On the other hand, the greeting between
the two kinswomen is naturally conceived of as
more familiar than that between the Virgin and the
heavenly messenger. Mary and Elizabeth often join in
a sisterly embrace, so tender that "sacri junguntur
uteri," as Johannes a Jenstein describes it in the frank
language of a religious hymn. 18 The actual gesture is
in many compositions the same as in the pictures of the
meeting at the " golden gate," but the effect is different
by reason of the contrast between the figures of the
young and the old woman. Further, the subject has
permitted of many variations both in the treatment of
the milieu and in the choice of the moment most suitable
for representation.
The meeting of Mary and Elizabeth is not among
the subjects treated by the art of the first centuries.
In certain old sculptures and carvings of the fifth
and sixth centuries critics have indeed thought they
recognised this motive, but, at any rate in the case
326 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
of some of tliese works, the Interpretation Is doubtful. 19
The stone workers of the Romanesque period, on the
other hand, delighted to introduce the figures of the
coming mothers on the Temple doors. As expressed
by their faulty technique, the motive could not attain
to any outer beauty. Thus an absolutely grotesque
effect is produced on the fagade of the bishop's palace
at Fano, where we see two coarse thick-set women
pressed against each other, while the elder of them
places her broad hand on the waist of the younger, as if
to assure herself of her condition. 20 If sculptures of this
kind have mainly an archaeological interest, it is on the
other hand a great and lofty art that appears in the
noble figures of Mary and Elizabeth on the doors of
the cathedrals of northern France. 21 There is also
beauty of line and expressive composition in many of
the numerous and nameless representations of the
Visitation, which are to be found on the walls of small
French country chapels as well as in the great cathedrals.
Where, as is usually the case, the meeting of the two
kinswomen constitutes a link in a series of sculptures
of the sacred story, Mary and Elizabeth have some-
times been placed in two different but adjacent com-
partments of the great image series. The pious women
lean towards one another over a pilaster, which marks
the transition from an earlier division to a later. By
this we are reminded that the Visitation betokens a
connection between new and old, an enjambement, one
might say, by means of which, without disturbing its
rhythm, the narrative enters upon a new chapter.
In Renaissance painting the motive has given rise
to many different renderings. Partly in order to give
greater variety to the description, partly the better to
fill up the given space, subordinate characters were often
xvi THE VISITATION 327
introduced ; and it does not constitute a departure from
the Bible narrative to represent Mary and Elizabeth as
accompanied by some serving-women. Painters have
even been defended for giving a place, as they sometimes
did, in pictures of the Visitation to Joseph, who wit-
nessed the holy meeting at a distance. 22 These details
serve to make the story entertaining to the spectator,
but it also easily gained a worldly character which could
not well be harmonised with the mystical import of the
subject. In the frescoes and pictures of Ghiiiandajo,
Carpaceio, and Sebastian del Piombo, 23 the Biblical text
has only served as a pretext for gorgeous paintings of
a young woman's visit to an elderly friend.
In purely ecclesiastical works of art, on the other
hand, everything has been avoided that might give
the composition an impression of ordinary everyday
life. The number of subsidiary characters has been
limited, or Mary and Elizabeth occupy the whole
canvas. They have been represented in an environ-
ment that has been defined as little as possible : in an
open place, in the shadow of trees, or in the vaulted
passage of a gateway, framing with its mighty
arch the smaller arch which is formed by the shapes
of the two women. 24 The transference of the figures
to an ideal milieu makes it all the more clear that
it is a mystery and not an historic event which
is portrayed, and by the position and expression of
the persons, the artists have succeeded in revealing a
good deal of the meaning concealed by the motive.
The Madonna moves with the dignity of a queen.
She knows that she bears the Highest; she is not
indeed haughty, but she feels that pride which finds
expression in her hymn, " Magnificat anima mea Deum."
She is a child compared with her aged friend, but she
328 THE SACBED SHBDTE CHAP.
receives Elizabeth's homage with the calmness of a
superior. Elizabeth's posture is equally speaking. She
raises her furrowed face to Mary with an expression
in which reverence seems to mingle with the sympathy
of an experienced woman, who knows that motherhood
means pain. As Giotto painted this scene in his frescoes
at Padua, the Visitation becomes an ideal picture of
affection combined with admiring homage.
It was usual during the earlier Renaissance to
portray the two women as two figures of an equal
height in an erect position, an arrangement which
still appears in Carpaccio. Later, on the other
hand, it was attempted to show Mary's superiority
by making her taller than Elizabeth. Giotto makes
the aged woman bow to her young guest, and the later
painters accentuate the subordination of Elizabeth still
more. Thus the same development can be observed
in pictures of the Visitation as in the Annunciation
pictures. Just as the artists, in order to emphasise
the importance of the Incarnation, even made the angel
Gabriel kneel to Mary, so they let Elizabeth sink to
the earth at the Madonna's feet. In such an act
the aged woman is represented in Ghirlandajo's
Visitation in the Louvre, in Sodoma's picture in the
Oratory of S. Bernardino at Siena, and in Andrea
or Luca ? della Eobbia's monumental sculpture in
S. Giovanni Fuorcivitas at Pistoja.
The Visitation has served still better than the
Annunciation as a model of that courtesy of demeanour
on which such great weight is laid in the Catholic
philosophy of life. Just as the Mass doctrine, with its
strict demands for purity and dignity, gave rise to a
pious etiquette, so an ideal of social politeness has been
derived from the ideas of the Madonna's person and
xvi THE VISITATION 329
life. In the Catholic view, that outer courtesy which
gives charm to men's mutual contact is not an un-
essential social convention, but a virtue issuing from
heaven ; and the patterns of this virtue heaven gave
to earth when Gabriel visited Mary, and when the
youthful Virgin, who had been raised over al creation,
gladly hastened to her aged kinswoman, to assist her
who so humbly received God's elect 25 This idea has
been naively expressed in an English motto of the
fifteenth century, designed to impress a knowledge of
life upon the rising generation :
Little children, here ye may lere
Much courtesy that is written here ;
For clerks that the seven arts cunne
Seyn that courtesy from heaven come.
When Gabriel our Lady grette,
And Elizabeth with Mary mette. 26
AH the good-will and attention which men show one
another, however, is only a weak counterpart of that
perfection of courtesy with which the faithful approach
what is holy. In the plastics of kneeling and deep
bowing the Catholic mind is expressed in its most
significant manifestation, and the perfect portrayal of
this manifestation is to be found in the pictures of
the aged woman who bows before the living tabernacle
of God. We can understand, therefore, that the Visita-
tion has been one of the most popular subjects of
Catholic art, and that the pious can read a profound
import of religious thoughts and feelings into the story
of the meeting of the holy women.
However clearly the painters and sculptors expressed
in Elizabeth's bearing her reverence for God's sanctuary,
they did not succeed in the medium of the arts of
design in illustrating the marvellous effect of Mary's
330 THE SACEED SHEIBTE CHAP, xvi
approach which, is specially mentioned in the Gospel
namely, the glad movements with which the unborn John
rejoiced at his Master's presence, and by which, as the
theologians expressed it, he showed himself holy even
in his mother s womb. During the later Middle Ages,
indeed, artists did not hesitate to paint even the two
embryos greeting each other. Jesus, in Mary's womb,
raised His hand in a gesture of blessing, and John
on his side bowed humbly towards his Master. 27 But
these attempts to represent the invisible meeting are
few in number, and they completely fail in effect, both
as works of art and as devotional pictures. That from
which art had to abstain could, however, be treated by
poetry and literature. Thus the piety of the unborn
Baptist has often been praised both in poems and
sermons, and the joy he expressed by his motions
has been compared with the devotion of Christians in
the presence of that God who can no more be seen
in human shape, and who is no longer hidden in a
living tabernacle in human form, but who is met
instead in the Eucharistic Incarnation. "How often
does it not happen," says the modern author Faber,
"that a secret joy flames up within us when we
approach the Sacrament house? . . . Joy, exultation,
praise, delight, the sense of forgiveness, and the spirit
of worship, these are exactly the fruits produced within
us, as they were produced within the Baptist's soul." 28
All the feelings of gladness and worship which the faithful
experience before the Host, are thus seen to correspond
to the feelings which Mary's coming aroused in the
holy embryo. No better proof can be desired of that
connection between the symbolism of the Mass and
the cult of Mary, of which one is unceasingly reminded
when studying the Catholic religious life.
CHAPTER XVII
THE VIRGINAL BIRTH
How life and death in Thee
Agree !
Thou hast a virgin womb,
And tomb.
A Joseph did betroth
Them both.
EICHAKD CBASHAW, Steps to the Temple.
IN the preceding chapters it has been related how, ac-
cording to the ideas of the believers, God miraculously
and mysteriously took up His abode in Mary's womb,
and how she, without being troubled by her condition,
bore the Highest in the pure tabernacle of her virgin
body. It now remains to give an account of the ideas
connected with the appearance of the Incarnate God on
earth, i.e. with the miracle by which He left the womb
without that closed and sacred shrine being broken.
The miraculous birth, it is easy to understand, is a
delicate subject, which even the plain-spoken theologians
of the Middle Ages treated with a certain caution. The
Conception, which in itself was even more delicate, could
be portrayed both in words and in pictures, when the
ingenious doctrine of a " conceptio per aurem" had been
evolved. If dogmatists had ventured to assert that
God had chosen the same "new way" in the second
case also, the doctrine would have been less perplexing
331
332 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
for both commentators and artists. That not only the
Incarnation but also the. birth took place through
the Virgin's ear was, however, an idea from which even
the Catholic theologians shrank back. 1 The Church
maintained that Mary's Child was brought into the
world in the same way as all other children ; but it
taught at the same time that the mother's virginity was
not affected either mentally or even physically. This
was an " absurdum," which could only be believed but
neither proved nor explained.
The Patriarch Sergius who, in 622, wrote the stately
hymn " Ak&tistos " which has retained its place in the
liturgy of the Greek Church until our own day has
with enviable clearness set forth the inability of reason
to grasp the doctrine of the Madonna's " virginitas in
partu." In the last of his 156 strophes he summons
the seers and wise men of the past to look at the
miracle, which they cannot comprehend ; and even
orators, to which class Sergius himself belonged, are
invoked to testify to the great marvel in a manner,
however, which the verbose poet himself failed to
imitate.
"We see/ 3 he says, "the greatest rhetoricians of all
time standing around thy throne as dumb as jishes,
Mother of God, for all their reason sufficeth not to
explain how thou wast able to bring forth thy child
and yet remain, a virgin." 2
In all that has been said of the virginal motherhood,
there is certainly nothing so imposing as the fact that
the miracle succeeded in making even the professional
orators keep silent. In the interest of truth, however,
it must be confessed that the bold expressions of the
hymn contain a good deal of exaggeration. Both in
rhetoric and in poetry, indeed, the sacred birth was
xvn THE VIBG-IHAL BIETH 333
praised In extensive descriptions. On the other hand
it is notable and this justifies to a certain extent
the statement of Sergius that usually the hymns, with
the help of well -chosen symbols and similes, move
round the outside of the miraculous event itself. With
a few exceptions, which will be specially referred to
later, they followed the example set by the author of
the Gospel of James, when, at the decisive moment, he
let a light cloud descend over the holy grotto, to
conceal the event which earthly eyes neither could nor
ought to see.
If a reverent reticence, which had already been
suggested by the difficulty of describing the unthinkable-
ness of a virginal motherhood, was thus observed with
reference to the act of birth, men spoke all the more freely
about the Virgin's condition after birth. Just as in the
Apocryphal gospel Salome ventured with impertinent
curiosity to examine the body of the pure girl, in order
to convince herself that a virgin could bring forth a
child, so the theologians have examined accurately and
in detail the question of Mary's anatomical virginity.
Through centuries they continued to discuss this
gynaecological question, which, it should be noted, had
not been settled by the establishment of the doctrine of
God's Incarnation in a virgin's womb. The debates
were long and heated, because they were connected with
some of the great doctrinal disputes which disturbed the
early Christian Church.
In the account of the miracle given, for example, by
the author of the Protoevangile, a Doketist view was
concealed. Only if it were assumed that God's human
body was an apparition, could the fact that He came
into the world without His mother ceasing to be a
virgin be logically explained. It was, therefore, natural
334 THE SACBED SHBIKE CHAP.
that those who most zealously combated the Doketist
heresy opposed the idea of a virginal birth. Tertullian,
Ireneus, and Origen asserted, in terms which at later
periods would have been regarded as violently heretical,
that the Divine Child had "opened His mother's womb." 3
In support of this view Athanasius and Epiphanius
quoted the passage in S. Luke's Gospel (ii. 23), where the
presentation in the Temple is accounted for by a reference
to the Mosaic ordinances concerning " every male who
first opens the womb." Hieronymus, who completely
altered his opinion later, expressed himself in 384, in
his controversy with Helvidius, in a purely naturalistic
manner. 4 Thus it seemed for a time, after Doketism had
been conquered by orthodoxy, as if Mary's " virginitas
in partu " had lost all prospects of being elevated to a
Church dogma.
This sect, which caused the theologians so many
misgivings, had, however, been only partially subdued.
The Church established indeed that God Himself had
submitted to all the pains of death, and it appeared,
therefore, a natural conclusion that He had also under-
gone all the humiliations of birth ; but in respect of
this latter point, it proved far more difficult to thrust
entirely aside the Doketist point of view. For this
sectarian theory found great support in the ascetic
movement, which in so many ways imperceptibly in-
fluenced orthodox theology. As we mentioned before,
those who glorified monastic life had sought in the
person of Mary the ideal for all pious nuns. In order
to serve as a model of virginity, however, the Madonna
ought to have remained a virgin throughout her life ; and
this again was impossible, at least in a physical sense,
if it was admitted that the Divine Child " opened
her womb." Therefore, by striving to emphasise
XVH THE VIKGINAL BIETH 335
Mary's virginity, dogmatists were led back, probably
unconsciously, to the point of view on which the Gospel
of James was based. It is true that all expressions
were avoided which might call to mind the Doketist
heresy. It was not admitted that the Divine Child
had only an apparitional and not a real body, but it
was asserted that this body had by a miracle left the
womb without the " seal of virginity having been
broken " ; 5 and it was thought that a proof of the
possibility of such a miracle was to be found in the
fact that the Divinity had demonstrated on other occa-
sions that no bolts could hinder His passage.
The first of the Western theologians to develop the
doctrine of "virginitas in partu" by an exposition of
this kind was that zealous champion of asceticism, S.
Ambrosius. In his controversy with Jovinianus he quoted
the much cited text in which, according to the Vulgate
translation, Isaiah prophesied that a virgin should con-
ceive and bear a son, and in support of his view he
advanced another passage which seemed to him appli-
cable to the holy birth. In the description of Ezekiel's
visions (xliv. 2) there is mention of a gate which was
and would always continue to be shut, and which none
but Israel's G-od could pass through. Is it not clear,
exclaims Ambrosius, that this shut gate is Mary, who let
God pass through, i.e. who bore the Highest, and yet
remained closed, i.e. preserved the seal of her virginity :
" Bona porta Maria, quae clausa erat, et non aperiebatur.
Transivit per earn Christus, sed non aperuit" It was,
indeed, against nature's laws that a gate could give a
passage and yet remain closed, but such an occurrence,
according to Ambrosius, was not more incredible than
that the sea had stood aside for the children of Israel,
or that the Jordan flowed back to its sources. 6
336 THE SACEED SHEIFE CHAR
The utterances of Ambrosias were soon generally
accepted by the leading theologians. At a Church
Council at Milan, the doctrine of the virginal birth was
adopted without opposition. Hieronymus recanted his
assertions of thirty years earlier, and now employed all
his ingenuity to prove that Mary's virginity was not
incompatible with her motherhood. Augustine dis-
seminated the same view in sermons, treatises and
epistles, and his theses were copied faithfully by all
the many authors who saw in him their teacher.
"Virginitas in partu" became a dogma which no one
who wished to be considered an orthodox Christian
might doubt This applied to the Oriental Church
as much as to the Roman. Thus during the Nestorian
dispute the miraculous birth and the mother's virginity
were cited as proofs that the child must have been
a god. Proclus, Theodotus of Ancyra, Ephraim Syrus,
and Johannes Damascenus may be mentioned as the
most important champions of the dogma in the
East. 7
All these authors based their arguments upon the
Bible narratives of miracles which could be compared to
the miraculous birth. Ambrosius, with his interpreta-
tion of Ezekiel's vision, had shown the way that the later
dogmatists were to follow. The closed gate became an
image of Mary, which was perpetually introduced in
hymns, and finally took its place in the enumerations
of the Madonna's epithets in the litany. Certain other
passages, which harmonised still more completely with
the doctrine of the virginal birth, were also quoted.
"When the Saviour, so it was said, entered among His
disciples through shut doors, he proved His power of
penetrating all that would hinder earthly bodies ; and
He gave a still more remarkable proof of this power
XYIX THE VIRGINAL BIKTH 337
when, at the Besurrection, He issued forth from the
closed and sealed grave.
This miracle was all the better suited for comparison
with the miraculous birth, because the grave itself had
often been likened to Mary's womb. The Virgin, indeed,
enclosed in her body the same contents as the grave.
To the symbolical mind this analogy was rich in mystic
meaning, which gave poets and preachers occasion for
many ingenious commentaries. Just as the pure rock,
said Hieronymus, in which the God-man's body had
been placed (Luke xxiii. 53; John xix. 41) had never
been used either before or after as an abode for the
dead, so Mary had neither before nor after borne any
other fruit of her womb than the Divine Child. 8 Another
similarity was pointed out by Ephraim Syrus. Just as
the Highest descended into the Virgin's body and let
Himself be born of it, so He had descended from the
grave into Hades, and through the grave had ascended
from the earth. If it was a miracle that, contrary to
the order of nature, a virgin had borne a child, it was
also a miracle that the unfruitful earth had miraculously
allowed a living god to issue from the kingdom of the
dead. Therefore Hades and Mary were two super-
natural mothers, "duo uteri preternaturales." The
only difference was that the Virgin was glad at her child-
birth, while Hades was sorrowful at God's resurrection. 9
In an old Easter hymn which has been ascribed, prob-
ably incorrectly, to S. Ambrose, the grave was similarly
compared to the Mother of God. "Thou," it says,
"who wast before born of a virgin, art born now of the
grave " :
Qui natus olim ex virgine
Nunc e sepulcro nasceris. 10
In mediaeval literature the similes used by the
338 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
early Christian Fathers recur. An author quoted by
S. Alfonso Liguori even goes so far as to make Mary
compare herself with the grave. When, we are told,
the mother stood about to leave the place where Christ
had been laid, she blessed the stone, and said : "
happy stone that dost now enclose the holy body which
for nine months was hidden in my womb, I bless thee
and envy thee. I leave in thy care my son, who is all
my wealth and all my love/' u The analogy between
the grave shrine and the human shrine which had held
the Prince of Life could not be expressed more clearly.
It is not surprising, therefore, that in the miracle of the
Resurrection it was sought to decipher symbolical refer-
ences to the virginal birth.
In order to understand exactly how this analogy
could be applied, we must investigate the ideas which
were prevalent concerning the Resurrection story.
There are, as is well known, many pictures and sculp-
tures in which the Saviour is seen to rise from a grave
whose bolt or doors are thrust aside. If these pictures
gave a correct expression of the Church's ideas, there
would have been no possibility of comparing the Resurrec-
tion with God's issuing from a virgin womb. The actual
fact is, however, that the broken gates and the bolts
drawn aside constitute a departure from the Biblical
story of the grave miracle, as that story has been inter-
preted by Catholic theology. It is indeed said in the
Gospels that the pious women, when they came to the
grave to anoint the dead with sweet smelling spices,
found the stone lifted away. From the account of
Matthew (xxviii 2), however, it may be concluded,
without doing violence to the text, that it was only
after the completion of the miracle that the " angel of
the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled
xvn THE VIRGINAL BIETH 339
back the stone from the door and sat upon it." It was
in this way, at any rate, that the event was explained
in the Catholic commentaries. The angel removed the
door of the grave, not in order to open a way for the
dead God, but in order to let men see that He had risen :
" Surrexit enim, sicut dixit." He Himself needed no
help in order to force a way out of His closed room,
and at His exit He left its gates closed as before. 12
Even the seal, which the high prie&ts and Pharisees
had set upon the grave, remained unbroken at the
Resurrection. This last-named detail was indeed neither
mentioned nor even indicated in the canonical narrative,
but the authors of the Apocryphal legends did not fail
to complete the story in this respect. In an old Syrian
history, " Concerning the Virgin Mary and the Image of
Jesus/' we read : " The watchers found that Jesus had
arisen from the grave, and that the seals and the marks
of the seals were unbroken. 51 13 Further, Ephraim Syrus
says that the grave was sealed, and he expressly com-
pares this fact with Mary's anatomical virginity : " Thus
didst Thou show, Lord, by Thy resurrection from the
grave, the miracle of Thy birth, for each was closed and
each was sealed, both the grave and the womb. Thou
wast pure in the womb and living in the grave, and
Mary's womb, like the grave, bore an unbroken seal." 14
The same thoughts are varied by the leading theo-
logians, both during the earlier centuries and during
the Middle Ages. Even if the seal is not always men-
tioned, it is invariably maintained that the grave was
closed during the Resurrection.
It may perhaps be objected that no decisive import-
ance can be ascribed to these utterances, because in
pictures of the Resurrection an opened grave is so often
met with. The view that prevailed among painters
340 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
and sculptors must, therefore, it is argued, have been
different from that of the learned theologians. Such
an objection appears at first sight thoroughly justified,
but on a closer examination the argument loses a good
deal of its effectiveness. As regards the early Middle
Ages one can hardly base any kind of conclusion on the
representations of painters and sculptors, for the mystery
of the Eesurrection belonged to the circle of subjects
which for a long time indeed, throughout the first ten
centuries were avoided by art with a kind of modest
piety. Frequently, indeed, the demonstration of the
miracle was rendered, i.e. the scene when the angel
showed the empty grave to the pious women ; but
artists shrank from any rendering of the moment when
God left the house of the dead. Thus, wherever we see
the figures of Salome and the Maries by the open grave,
it is probable that the visit to the sepulchre is the real
subject of the picture. Only we must not be confused
by the fact that we often recognise in these composi-
tions the form of the Saviour Himself, revealing Himself
to the Magdalene, or ascending from the mountains
to heaven. Mediaeval art did not shrink from repre-
senting side by side several successive moments in a
narrative. Thus even two so widely different motives
as the Ascension and the miracle of the grave were
united. This arrangement occurs very frequently upon
sepulchral monuments, and such compositions have
been incorrectly interpreted as representations of the
Eesurrection. 15
From the beginning of the thirteenth century, how-
ever, the portrayal of the actual moment when God
issued from His closed dwelling becomes more and
more common, 16 and it cannot be denied that this
portrayal conflicted with the Church's view of the
xvn THE VIEGIKAL BIETH 341
miracle. Whether it was due to the fact that in the
interest of religious and aesthetic effect the artists
desired to make the miracle more imposing, or that
they copied the mounting of religious plays, at which
it was impossible, for technical reasons, to represent
the risen Saviour issuing from a shut room, 1 * in
pictorial art the Saviour, with a banner of victory in
His hand and with His arm rhetorically outstretched,
was made to rise from a grave whose lid had been
violently thrust aside. The aid of the angel was not
represented as necessary for the Eesurrection, for the
buried one Himself broke through the barrier; but it
looked as if the stone had been removed in order to
render the miracle possible, and not, as the theologians
taught, in order to demonstrate it. As compositions
of this kind were numerous, both in northern and in
Italian painting, it is only natural that the Eesurrection
story was often subjected to misrepresentation ; but the
orthodox view was shortly to prevail in art. During
the fifteenth century the holy grave was usually repre-
sented with a closed lid. In these pictures Christ often
stood with one leg outside the chamber of death and
with the other sunk in its surface. 18 Later, however,
it became common to represent the Saviour as floating
above the closed grave, and in order to emphasise the
miraculous element in the event still more clearly,
painters did not omit to paint on the front of the grave
a great red circle, i.e. the unbroken seal. 19
The magical element is accentuated by this seal with
a clearness such as would be used to illustrate a con-
jurer's trick, and it was in this way that the Eesurrec-
tion was regarded by the faithful The Saviour was a
mighty magician who, in early Christian sculpture, was
even sometimes represented with the magician's staff
342 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
in his hand. 20 He performed greater wonders than any
heathen sorcerer, but the greatest of all His arts He
manifested at His birth and at His resurrection. The
shrines in which He was enclosed were, therefore, not
only holy, but also magical shrines, i.e. boxes which the
Highest could enter and leave without their being
opened. The idea of a sealed room being penetrated
by the Divine Power was evidently dear to the pious,
for they combined all the stories they knew about
miracles of this kind. Even the lions 7 den, which
was sealed with the king's seal and in which Daniel
nevertheless received a visit from the angel of God, was
compared by interpreters of the Bible both with the
grave and with the Virgin's womb. 21 - It may be taken
for granted, therefore, that even if the expositions of
the old Fathers of the Church had sunk into oblivion
the great seal in the pictures of the Eesurrection
reminded the faithful of that shrine from which God
had appeared without the seal of His mother's virginity
having been broken. The analogy between the two
miracles is so complete that, so far as the symbolic
mport is concerned, we can speak of the grave while
referring to the Virgin. This is all the more advan-
tageous because we are thereby spared from having to
introduce those gynaecological details which render the
virginal birth a delicate subject.
For the doctrine of the " virginitas in partu " is not
yet completely treated. It is not sufficient to say that,
according to the Church's view, God left His temporary
abode as closed as it had been. It must also be ex-
plained how this miracle actually took place. On the
one hand, it is conceivable that the mighty magician
broke the seal of the grave and then immediately
replaced it in its former condition ; but it can also be
xvn THE VIEGIFAL BIETH 343
imagined that He had the power to pass through all
closed gates without their seals being broken even
for a moment. The first interpretation was evolved
by Hieronymus, who by its help could embrace the
dogma of a virgin birth without attaching himself to
the Doketist theory. 22 In the Eastern Church the
same explanation was advanced by some writers in
the fifth century, but later this hypothesis became of
small importance. 25 The general view in which an
influence from the heresy that Hieronymus sought to
avoid cannot be denied was that the Saviour's shape,
unlike earthly bodies, could freely pass through all
material objects. It was all the easier to maintain this
opinion, inasmuch as a similar phenomenon could be
observed in nature. Light could pass through a clear
medium without hurting that medium, and without
diminishing in power. God was the great light above
all else. It was natural, therefore, that His passing
through the closed doors should be explained as a
phenomenon of radiation.
From the beginning of the ninth century theologians,
in writing about the virgin birth, commenced to quote
the analogy of the passage of light through glass, and
poets knew well how to make use of so apt and poetical
a simile. It is even probable that they would have been
led to employ this simile independently of all dogmatic
definitions. As early as the seventh century Venantius
Fortunatus had compared Mary to a church which shone
with the light of day through clear windows :
Lumine plena micans, imitata est aula Mariani.
Ilia iitero lucem, clausit et ista diem. 24
Once it was granted that God was enclosed in Mary's
body in the same way as daylight in a church, it was
344 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
easy to liken His issuing from the womb to the stream-
ing of light through a glass window. In the same way
it could be explained that the Madonna's virginity had
not been lost at the Incarnation. The window and the
rays of light became, therefore, perpetually recurring
similes, by the aid of which Church poetry illustrated
both the Conception and the Birth. In the thirteenth
century Alexander Neckham sang of the first miracle :
Intrat vitrum radius
et non violatur
vitrum ; sic castissima
verbo fecund atur. 25
During the same century the birth was described by
an anonymous writer as follows :
Si cut vitruin radio
solis penetratur,
inde tamen laesio
nulla vitro datur,
Sic, immo subtilius
matre non corrupta
deus dei filius
Sua prodit nupta. 26
S. Birgitta describes in detail how God entered " the
body of the Virgin just as the sun shines through
purest stone or glass." 2V In a French mystery of the
fifteenth century Gabriel seeks, by the help of the same
similes, to convince Mary that her virginity will not
suffer any lessening from her motherhood :
Mais tout ainssy com la verri&re
Du soleil qui demeure entikre
Quand son ray par my oultre passe,
Qui ne la brise ni ne quasse,
Ainsi demoura ton corps sains ! 28
And a German song gives a still clearer application
of the comparison :
XYII THE VIBGDTAL BIETH 345
Als die Sonn durchsclieint das Glass
mit ihreni klaren Sclieine
Und docb. nit versenret das
so mercket allgemeine :
In gleicher Weiss geboren wardt
von einer Jungfrau rein und zart
Gottes Son der werdte. 29
In all these poems nothing is said as to the kind of
glass though which the light streams in. For the
purposes of the simile it is only presupposed to be clear
and pure. In mediaeval churches, however, the windows
were most often coloured. If the many-coloured panes
in such a cathedral window were compared to the Holy
Mother, the simile afforded a still more complete
illustration of the course of events at the virgin birth.
The glass, without suffering injury, allowed the light to
pass into the church, but it also coloured the rays
which were reflected on the floor and the walls. Again,
the light was not dimmed, although it borrowed the
colour of the window; that is to say, it retained its
essence but altered the form of its manifestation. In
this phenomenon, according to the view of Catholic
theologians, a deep thought lay hidden. It was in the
same way, they said, that God, when He issued from
Mary's womb, borrowed from His mother His human
shape, without losing His divine nature. "Brader
Hans " has poetically expressed this ingenious idea in
one of his " Marienlieder " :
Went wy der sonnen glantze
Sick nacn dem glase varwet,
So hat der hymmelscnrantze
Mit dyme fleysch und blute sich. ghegarwet
Und bleyf dock god in godlicher nature,
Bo daz wort wart fleyscli ghemacht,
Und bleyf in dynen wax der prent figure. 80
If God could be compared to a ray of light, it was
346 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
still more natural to liken Him to the great source of
light itself. It has been observed by A. Meyer that
such a metaphor is indicated, if not worked out, as early
as in the Protoevangile, for the way in which Christ's
birth is described spontaneously calls to mind a sunrise.
When Joseph and Salome entered the holy grotto, they
first saw a light cloud, then a diffused shining, and
finally the Divine Child. 31 " Sol splendidissimus," this
Child was often called by the Fathers of the Church.
His mother, again, according to the symbolical view,
was a cloud in which the light of day was enclosed before
it broke forth over the world. The metaphors used to
describe the sun issuing from a cloud could, therefore,
be applied without alteration to the holy birth. In
this, as in so many other respects, the Psalms had to
pay tribute of similes to the Christian poets. One of
them in especial has been imitated time after time in
the poetry of Mary that great hymn, the mightiest of
all songs to the sun, in which the sun's issue from the
clouds is compared to a bridegroom who rises from his
bridal bed or bride-chamber, in order, like a hero, to run
forth on his course :
In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun, Which is as a bride-
groom, coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run
a race. His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and his circuit
unto the ends of it : and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.
Ps. xix. 4-6.
" In sole posuit tabernaculum suum ; et ipse tanquam
sponsus procedens de thalamo suo Exultavit ut gigas
ad currendam viam. A summo coelo egressio ejus Et
occursus ejus usque ad summum ejus; nee est qui se
abscondit a calore ejus" (Versio Vulgata, Ps. xviii.
6-7). 32
These verses were all the more applicable to the
XVH THE VIBGIKAL BIRTH 347
holy birth, because, as has already been pointed out,
the Incarnation was regarded as a marriage relationship.
Mary's womb, it was said, was a bride-chamber in which
God united Himself to mankind. Therefore, without
doing any violence to the Catholic view, Ambrosius, or
the unknown poet who wrote the great Christmas Hymn,
could sing of the virgin birth :
Proeedat e tnalamo suo
Pudoris aula regia
Geminae gigas substantiae
Alaeris ut currat viam.
" May the giant of the twofold nature rise from his
bed in the kingly hall of chastity to run forth in joy
upon his course." 33
Augustine, Pope Leo IX., and many other authors
have given varying expressions to the same idea both
in verse and prose, 34 and it is the old Psalm which is the
basis of the description of the Birth Night in Sedulius's
Carmen paschale :
" What new light goes not up over the world, what
shining over all Heaven, when Christ in shimmering
splendour issues from Mary's womb, as a bridegroom
goes forth in triumph from his richly adorned bridal
chamber, more beautiful than any child of men, and
with grace and comeliness outpoured over His shining
countenance/*
Quae nova lux mundo, quae toto gratia coelo I
Quis fuit ille nitor, Mariae cum Christus ab alvo
Processit splendore novo 1 Velut ipse decoro
Sponsus ovana thalamo, forma speciosus amoena
Prae natis honrinum, cujus radiante figura
Blandior in labiis diffusa est gratia pulchris. 35
It is noticeable that in this, as in so many others of
the Church's poems, the Child is not compared with the
348 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
sun, but is sung of as a new sun. The figurative
expression by "which the Saviour called Himself "the
Light of the World/ 7 was often understood by the
pious quite literally. As Hofmann well pointed out, we
ought, if we are to follow correctly the Catholic idea, in
speaking of the mystery of the Holy Night, not to speak
of the new-born Child as having for the first time seen
the light of the world, but of the world having for the
first time seen its true light. 36 The mediaeval writers
affirmed in their sermons that the Child's body at His
birth "shone like a sun." So far as lay in their power,
the painters also sought to illustrate this thought in
their pictures during the Middle Ages by surrounding
the little figure by a circle of golden rays, 37 and during
the late Renaissance, when technique allowed of a more
illusive treatment of optical phenomena, by making the
light extend over the whole composition from the God
who rested upon the ground.
The import of all these pictures and poems is not
difficult to understand. The old sun, so they seem to
say, had been replaced by a purer and more spiritual
light, and it was a new era that set in with the virgin
birth. Therefore the whole world stayed in its motion.
Springs welled forth from the earth's interior and the
idols tumbled down. Life was honoured by God
submitting Himself to its changes, and all relations
existing between mankind were purified in His birth.
Motherhood and virginity, conception and childbirth,
were idealised in Mary, who bore a Child without losing
her innocence. From nature and all belonging to it
the stains of sin were expunged ; but what was outside
nature, and in conflict with it, could not be purified
but only destroyed. It might not exist in a world
sanctified by the presence of the Highest. Just as
XTII THE VIRGINAL BIETH 349
the idols fell Into pieces, so at tlie moment of the
holy birth all men who had been guilty of unnatural
vices were rooted out. 38 They had offended so deeply
against the laws of nature so the legend was probably
explained that they could not survive the new birth of
nature.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE HOLY MANGER
I am not proud meek angels ye invest
New meeknesses to hear such utterance rest
On mortal lips "I am not proud" not proud !
Albeit in my flesh God sent His Son ;
Albeit over Him my head is bowed,
As others bow before Him ; still, mine heart
Bows lower than their knees.
ELIZABETH BABBETT BROWNING,
The Virgin Mary to the Child Jesus.
As has been shown in the preceding chapter, Mary's
virginal childbirth afforded Catholic theologians an
opportunity for nmch daring speculation. The mirac-
ulous event has been treated as a biological miracle,
which indeed baffled every attempt at explanation, but
which none the less lured men to repeated and far-
reaching expositions ; and God's human birth has been
represented as a cosrnological phenomenon by which
the old order of nature was entirely shattered. Such
philosophical interpretations have undeniably allowed
the great and mysterious elements in the pious legend
to acquire their due prominence, and they have further
afforded literature the occasion for ingenious conceits
and stately descriptions of nature. They are, however,
too abstract to be able to serve the purposes of pictorial
art, and they do not offer sufficient nourishment to the
poetic imagination, which demands living and graphic
ideas of the religious mysteries.
350
CHAP, xvin THE HOLY MA^GEB 351
The Gospel narratives had not educated the pious to
regard the Birth as an astronomical phenomenon, or as an
union of incompatible ideas. S. Matthew and S. Luke
made no mention of a sun that came forth from a
cloud, but of a woman, a child, and a manger in a
stable. The earthly scene in Bethlehem, therefore, was
a subject which for devotional purposes became dearer
and more profitable than all the philosophic and
dogmatic thoughts attached to the ideas concerning
God's birth. However much the rhetorical embellish-
ments, with which the theologians adorned their de-
scriptions of the Holy Night, were appreciated and
utilised, the symbols and similes were not permitted
to overshadow the purely human moments of the event.
People's thoughts lingered with the mother and the new-
born Child, and they sought to make their ideas of them
as vivid as possible. The Bible's description was com-
pleted by new features drawn from the Apocryphal
gospels, from popular legends, from the visions of seers,
and from the imagination of individual artists which
were to give the situation a richer illusion of reality.
Thus was developed, from elements derived from the
most different sources, that picture of the miracle of
the Holy Night which both in art and poetry has
exercised so immeasurable an influence on Catholic life. 1
In the earliest Christian art, so far as is known at
present, the Birth is represented not by itself alone, but
only in connection with the worship of the Shepherds or
the Magi. 2 Mary sits by the Child's bed, or holds the
little God on her knee, to receive on His behalf the
homage of the first believers. Her position is stiff and
dignified, and there is nothing to denote that she has
lately brought a child into the world. These com-
positions have clearly been influenced by antique
352 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
sculpture. As Venturi pointed out, one seems to
recognise, in the Madonna's figure and bearing, traits
belonging to the Olympian Juno or to the stern
Pudicitia those high models which, a thousand years
later, lend their dignity to the Madonnas of the early
Renaissance sculptors. 8
At the transition to the Middle Ages men began
to treat the Nativity in independent compositions.
Mary is now portrayed as the bearer of a child, lying
or half-sitting on her bed, and, in accordance with
the account in the Protoevangile, a midwife is often
represented by her side. When this woman stretches
out her right hand towards the Child, she may be
identified as the unbelieving Salome, whose arm was
paralysed as a punishment for her doubt and regained
its power of movement when she confessed her faith.
Sometimes we recognise also the faithful Joseph, who
brought the two midwives to Mary's bed. By the intro-
duction of these subsidiary persons the compositions
gain the character of genre pieces a character which
during the later Middle Ages becomes more and more
accentuated. Thus we can often see the new-born
Saviour, like the little child Mary, being bathed and
dried and wrapped in swaddling-clothes/ In the
great reliefs of Niccol6 Pisano and his pupils such a
washing scene has a regular place by the manger and
Mary ; and in Giotto's fresco at Padua a woman hands
the swathed Child to its mother, who lies stretched upon
a bed.
This last detail, however, openly conflicts with the
Gospel narrative. S. Luke says expressly that Mary
herself, when she bore her Son, "wrapped him in
swaddling-clothes and laid him in a manger." Giotto's
fresco has therefore been strongly disapproved of by
xvni THE HOLY MANGEB 353
orthodox art critics. Not only, indeed, have they
censured those compositions in which Mary is made
to accept help in her first care of the Child, but in their
opinion the whole mediaeval type of illustrations to the
Nativity scenes, which has been shortly characterised
here, contains a misrepresentation of the sacred history.
Zealous protests, for instance, have been made against
the artists' representation of the washing of the new-born
Child. It is, indeed, intelligible that all those who
disapproved of the pictures of Mary's bath, were
shocked with far greater reason by the introduction
of such a motive into pictures of God's birth. The
idea, it was argued, that He whose birth was as pure
as His conception, could have been in any need of
washing, is fundamentally erroneous. Some of the
early Fathers had already sternly rejected this idea,
and modern authors used much ingenuity to show
its absurdity. Since, however, it could not be dis-
puted that many Christian artists had painted the God-
child's bath, and that even a number of pious Fathers
had mentioned such an event, some explanation of the
inconvenient circumstance had to be sought for.
Thus Trombelli has argued that one may wash even
a clean being, "just as we often wash our hands and
face, in spite of their not being the least unclean " ; 5
but the modern writer Grimouard de S. Laurent has
found a more satisfactory interpretation which, even
if it dates from the nineteenth century, agrees admirably
with the mediaeval point of view. If, he says, it is in-
conceivable that any water could purify purity itself, on
the other hand God could cleanse the water He touched in
His bath. Such a purification was all the more fitting,
inasmuch as the water was to have a significant use in
the Church's Sacrament. In the washing after the
354 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
Nativity there should be seen, therefore, a reference to
Baptism. 6 In support of such an explanation it might
be advanced if one desires to follow Catholic art
criticism that in certain mediaeval sculptures the
bath takes a form which calls to mind a font. 7 To the
theological mind there must be something attractive
in the idea that immediately after His appearance on
earth God sanctified the element which in Baptism
sanctifies the faithful. If this interpretation became
commonly accepted, the bathing scenes in the old
Nativity compositions could not do any harm to pious
spectators, who ought only to recall that distinction
between the two different kinds of washing which
gave rise to the use of double washing-basins in the
Mass apparatus.
Grimouard de S. Laurent has further given an
orthodox explanation of the presence of the two mid-
wives at Mary's bed. It must be supposed, he says,
that they were summoned only to confirm the youthful
mother's virginity. Thus, like the angel at the grave,
they were not required in order to bring about the
miracle, but only to demonstrate it. If the artists
desired to suggest that the Holy Mother had
accepted any assistance from them, that, according to
the Catholic view, would be a heresy which could not
be condemned sufficiently strongly. 8 The utterances of
the early Fathers are in this respect quite unequivocal.
Not even Hieronymus, who had been led to a relatively
materialistic view of the Nativity during his dispute
with the Doketists, and who confessed with a defiant
frankness that he " did not blush " at all the humiliation
to which the Mother of God was subjected at her child-
birth, even he does not admit that there could have
been any need of serving-women when the highest of
xvm THE HOLY MANGER 355
all children came Into the world : " Nulla ibi obstetrix,
nulla muliercnlarum sedulitas intercessit. Ipsa [Maria]
pannis involvit infantem, ipsa et mater et obstetrix
fait" 9 The Holy Mother was herself her own midwife ;
and she could the better dispense with all external
assistance, because her birth was painless and easy.
For she who had conceived her Child without sin must
have been free from all the pangs which, with other
earthly beings, accompany delivery.
The very way in which God's birth was explained
by similes included an idea of a mild accouchement.
He came into the world as light filters in through
a window ; or as the sun, not breaks, but quietly
streams out through a dispersed cloud. Therefore the
believers could in imagination paint with naive traits
pictures of Mary, who, having been warned by no
pang or spasm, was surprised at having given birth to
the Divine Child.
This view has been developed as early as by Zeno
of Verona in one of his sermons: "Mary does not
know the suffering of motherhood, for she has taken
into her the world's Creator, and she bears Him not
with pain, but with joy. Marvellous ! she brings
rejoicing into the world a child that is older than all
Nature. And the young mother does not lament, and
the new-born babe does not, as is usually the case,
begin its life with tears. Its mother does not lie
outstretched upon a bed, she is not strained after
the birth, or prostrate in her limbs. Nor is either
Son or mother made unclean by the birth, and no bath
is necessary for Him who came into the world to purify
the race from the stains of sin." 10
In The Meditations of Bonaventura it is said that
" God's Son in the same hour issued without pain from
356 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP.
the Virgin's womb, and lay in front of her, and His
mother bent down and lifted Him up, embraced Him
affectionately, and took Him to her bosom. And at
the inspiration of the Holy Ghost she rubbed all His
noble body with her milk" u The child, indeed, received
a bath, but it was washed in an element which was purer
than water. S. Birgitta, who in her visions witnessed
the holy event with her own eyes, says that " the Saviour
was born so suddenly that she could neither see nor
understand how it happened. She only saw the glorious
child lying pure and naked and shining on the earth." 12
A still more peculiar description is given by S. Mechthild
von Magdeburg. " When the time was come," says the
pious sister in her Offenbarungen, " when other women
feel prostrated and troubled in their movements, Mary
was light of heart and merry ; for she bore in her womb
God's most perfect Son. Mary knew nothing of the
hour when God desired to be born of her, before she
saw Him resting in her bosom, on the way during the
night at the strange town of Bethlehem, where she
herself was a stranger without a lodging." The con-
tinuation is too precious to be rendered in a translation :
"Der allmachtige Gott mit seiner Weisheit, der ewige
Sohn mit seiner menschlichen Wahrheit, der heilige
Geist mit seiner wonnigen Seligkeit, gieng durch die
ganze Wand des Leibes Maria mit schwebender Wonne
und miihelos. Das war so bald geschehen, wie die
Sonne giebt ihren Schein nach dem siiszen Thau in
minniglicher Ruhe." 13
A birth which is like the sunshine over dewdrops can
naturally occasion no weariness in the mother. This
had been pointed out by Zeno, and it was repeated time
after time by the mediaeval writers. Therefore dis-
approval was also expressed of those compositions in
xviii THE HOLY MANGEE 357
which the Holy Mother was represented In a recumbent
posture ; although, on the other hand, in excuse for the
artists the suggestion was thrown out that after the birth
Mary remained at home and observed the ceremonies
usual for mothers, " in order not to distinguish herself
from other women/' 14
It is difficult to determine whether in this respect
orthodox criticism exercised any immediate influence on
artistic production. Whether it was due to a stricter
observation of theological dogmas, or to a change in
the direction of aesthetic taste, it is in any case a fact
that the realistic Nativity compositions become more and
more rare with the commencement of the Renaissance.
After the thirteenth century the figures of the midwives
gradually disappear, although, probably under the in-
fluence of the religious theatre, they became popular
once more during a transitional period ; 15 and in
later times the Madonna is but seldom represented
in a recumbent position. "When men wanted to portray
a childbirth they chose as their subject the birth of
Mary, but not that of Jesus. In accordance with the
descriptions of poets and theologians, the Mother of
God was represented as a woman who was not even
outwardly troubled by her motherhood. In many cases
it was only the manger, the ox, and the ass which
showed that the compositions referred to the Holy Night,
and these compositions did not represent the actual
moment of birth, but some later events which took its
place as subjects of devout meditation. Both in art and
poetry three motives aroused special attention, namely,
Mary's worshipping of the Child, her suckling it, and
her motherly caresses. The two later subjects could
of course be isolated from the holy birth, but as a
Catholic author has pointed out, they none the less
358 THE SACRED SHKESTE CHAP.
invite pious imagination to meditate on the mystery
at Bethlehem. 16 It is therefore most proper to give an
account of these subjects also in the chapter on the
Madonna at the manger.
That Mary worshipped her new-born Child is men-
tioned neither in the canonical nor in the Apocryphal
gospels. This idea belonged instead to those which
theological imagination derived from its dogmatic pre-
suppositions without any external prompting. When
the earthly mother had given birth to her heavenly
Son so it was argued it could not be her first care
to look after His physical well-being. She who saw the
Incarnate God before any one else, must first think of
doing homage to His greatness. She kneeled before the
tender Being, praised the power that hid itself in His
little form, and prayed to be allowed to take care of
Him as of her own child. As early as in Ephraim Syrus's
sermons the mother humbly addresses the new-born
Child before she " offers the sources of her milk to Him
who is Himself the source of all things." 17 The mystical
authors of the Middle Ages often set forth how the
Madonna subjected herself to her own child, 18 and in
the Church office it is expressly said, " Virgo quern
genuit adoravit " " the Virgin worshipped Him whom
she had borne." It is on this text that most of the
Eenaissance pictures of the Holy Night have been
composed. Sometimes, like Correggio in his famous
canvas in the Uffizi, painters confined themselves to
representing only the worshipping mother and her
Child. As a rule, however, Joseph too gets his place in
the picture, 19 and partakes in the act of homage together
with the two pious beasts, the ox and the ass, who
kneel before Creation's Lord. The angels of Heaven
xviii THE HOLY MANG-EB 359
unite In Mary's prayer with songs of praise, and the
shepherds enter as silent and humble witnesses of the
religious act. The grotto or shed becomes a temple,
with the manger as an altar, at which the first Christian
service is held. Thus the historical description gives
place to a ritual ceremonial picture, whose motive is
purely mystical in purport. Instead of the family scene,
which shocked pious feelings with its bath and swaddling
clothes and its group of busy mid wives, there appeared
a purely religious composition, the solemn character of
which was not marred by any realistic details.
In poetic and artistic descriptions of the suckling of
the child at Mary's breast we have to make a similar
distinction between the theological and the realistic
conceptions of the subject. As early as the first
centuries, religious poetry, as appears from the recent
quotation from Ephraim Syrus, had paid attention to this
motive. For those who, like the Eastern bard, specu-
lated as to the import of the dogmas, there must have
been something grand in the idea of the Creator of the
world receiving His food from an earthly being. Such
a thought was advanced all the more readily because
Nestorius in his heresy had dared to deny the possi-
bility of the Highest having in human wise " sucked a
woman's breast. 20 But no theological argumentation
was necessary to cause the suckling of the Divine Child
to become a favourite subject for pious meditation. Ac-
cording to S. Luke's narrative, it was a woman of the
people who had invoked the Saviour in the words which
were afterwards adopted by the liturgy of the Catholic
Church : " Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the
breasts which thou didst suck" (Luke xi. 27). 21 And it
harmonised well with the popular view that in worship-
360 THE SACKED SHEIFE CHAP.
ping Mary men's thoughts should be devoutly directed to
her virginal mother's bosom. The breasts and their milk
were included in the sanctity of motherhood. Through
them G-od was bound in gratitude to her who had given
Him food. He could not, so people imagined, refuse His
assent to any of her prayers, if only she reminded Him of
the time when He lay as a child at her bosom ; 22 and when
in pictures of the Last Judgment Mary was represented
as the advocate of the accused, she was made, as if to
give her pleadings more weight, to direct her hand to her
breast or to expose a part of her bosom to the Judge. 23
Accordingly the sinful saw a hope of forgiveness in " the
breasts which thou didst suck."
All these associations of thought make it intelligible
why the Church's poets unceasingly sang of "Mariae
matris mammulae," 24 and why artists often portrayed
the Madonna with her bosom exposed. 25 During the
fourteenth century, when it became usual to repre-
sent the suckling mother, the subject was still treated
with great caution, but during the Eenaissance it
sometimes happened that the sacred breasts were
entirely exposed to view. Catholic critics have even
expressed their disapproval of the Madonna being
given too deep a decolletee. There are, however,
few if indeed any pictures of the Madonna which
could arouse misgivings of this kind in any but a
Puritan beholder. Purely sensuous beauty has indeed
often been portrayed in religious works of art, but it
is usually the Magdalene or some other of the penitent
sinners who represent this type. The Virgin's figure,
on the contrary, is characterised by chastity and
sublimity even during the least rigorous periods of art.
Mary, it seems, bares her bosom in naive innocence,
because she is a mother, and because the suckling of a
xvm THE HOLY MANGER 361
child is a worthy action that can only be looked upon
with respect. Indeed the " Madonna and Child " is a
devotional picture even for those who do not confess
the Catholic dogmas ; and there have been times
when this picture -has been employed, with praise-
worthy intention but doubtful taste, for educational and
hygienic purposes. The religious paintings have been
reproduced on fly-sheets, by the help of which it was
attempted to arouse mothers to a sense of their duties
towards their children. From the Holy Virgin, it was
said, it should be learned that every mother ought
to suckle her child. 27
Such is the worldly and non-dogmatic view of the
"lactatio" motive, but Catholic theologians do not
consent to see in pictures representing this subject only
a glorification of human motherhood. Such an import
is for them far too simple and ordinary. They will not
even admit that the little child should be regarded
as a child. "The Eldest of Days" and "The Lord of
Worlds" He is called in the chants and services in
which God's suckling is celebrated. " He was the same
in the bosom of the Father and in the Virgin's womb,
in His mother's arms and on the wings of the wind." 28
Mary was not, so it was said, a mother feeding her child
at her breast, but she was a virgin giving the breast to
her own and to all Creation's father. Theological inter-
pretation even went so far as to compare the pictures of
Mary and the little Jesus with the pictures of " Caritas-
Eomana," i.e. with the representations, common in the
late Eenaissance, of the old legend of a young Roman
girl who fed her starving father in prison with the milk
of her breasts. 29
As the Divine Child was thus made into an old
person, so Mary's milk was not to be ordinary mother's
362 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP.
milk, nor her breast an ordinary breast. In the descrip-
tions of pious writers the allegories often gain such
an ascendancy that the motive, so simple in its great-
ness, obtains a purely dogmatic import. One has only
to read how Mechthild von Magdeburg describes the
vision in which she witnessed the suckling of the
Divine Child. Mary had wrapped the new-born infant
in swaddling clothes and duly laid Him in the manger :
" But then He began to cry like a little human child,
for as long as children cannot speak they weep when
they suffer a real need. And thus did Our Lord now,
for He, because of our sin, in spite of His noble nature
had so hard a bed in a narrow cattle-stall, and He wept
over the whole human race and thus concealed [by
weeping] all His sweetness and all His power. Then
was the Virgin sorrowful and the child was hungry
and cold, and the mother must quiet her Son ; it
was His Father's will and the Holy Ghost's pleasure.
Then the Virgin bowed with motherly love in virginal
humility to her suffering child and offered Him her
young breasts. Behold now the great miracle. The
shining flowers of her lovely eyes, and the spiritual
beauty of her virgin's countenance, and the melting
sweetness of her pure heart and the grace of her noble
soul these four things, according to the Father's will,
the Son's need, and the Holy Ghost's blessed joy, united
in her virgin bosom. Then the sweet milk flowed from
her pure heart painlessly, and the child sucked His food
in human wise, and His mother rejoiced lovingly,
the angels sang a hymn to God, and the shepherds
came, sought and found our true Kedeemer, swathed
in swaddling clothes, and lying in a little manger." 30
It is important to notice the symbolical way in
which Mary's motherhood is here explained. For S.
xvin THE HOLY MANGEB 363
Mechthild employs an allegory which was used by the
theological writers bo^h before and after her day, and
which was in perfect agreement with the fantastic descrip-
tions of the Incarnation mystery. The conception of
the Divine Man had been brought about by a heavenly
dew, but the dew was an image of the grace that
descended upon mankind. The sublime Child, again,
had been fed at a human bosom and was quieted by
Mary's mother's-milk ; but the bosom was an image of
the mercifulness, and the milk issued not from the
Madonna's body but from her virtues and beauty. 31 In
this manner all the natural events could be explained
as similes, and the concrete pictorial motives could be
regarded as expressions of purely theological thoughts.
Mary was looked upon not as an individual human being,
but as the incarnation of an eternal principle which
had exercised its power long before it became embodied
in the figure of the Jewish girl. The Madonna's
motherly care had previously been directed to all the
faithful, who had been fed by her " milk " in the same
way as the Child of Bethlehem. In Mechthild's
revelations it is even expressly said that the Madonna
suckled the prophets before Christ descended into the
world. Later, she fed during His childhood " the God
of her and all of us," and when He was full-grown she
offered her milk to the Christian Church. All friends
of God could get strength at her bosom. " Eja, darnach
sollen wir bekennen Die Milch und auch die Briiste
Die Jesus so oft kiisste." 32
In the great Swedish seeress we find the same daring
similes as in Mechthild. When S. Birgitta reproaches
the Pope for not having remained in Eome, but
returned to his place of exile after his short visit to the
holy city, she makes Mary say : " He had the inspiration
364 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
of the Holy G-host to come to Eome and exercise justice
and strengthen the Christian faith and renew the Holy
Church. And even as a mother leads her child whether
she will "by showing him her breast, so I led him without
any bodily peril to Rome. But now he turns his back
to me, and not his face, and will go from me.' 7 33 In
another passage of Birgitta's visions the Madonna
promises her aid to the Pope if he will only fulfil his
duty and take his place in the capital of the Church.
" Mary, the Mother of God, said : As a mild mother
who sees her beloved son lying cold on the earth and
powerless to raise himself, crying for his mother's help
with mournful voice then she lifts him up and
warms him with motherly love, and quickens him
with the milk of her breasts. So will I, the mother of
mercifulness, do to Pope Gregory, if he will come to
Rome and stay there for his soul's good and renew the
Holy Church's statutes in humility and love. Then like
a mild mother will I lift him up naked and cold from
the earth that is, separate his heart from all worldly
lust and affection that is contrary to G-od's will and I
will warm him sweetly with my breast's love and quicken
him with the milk of my prayers. how innumerable
are they who have been supported by the milk of my
prayers and fed sweetly by it." 34
It may perhaps seem as if in these and similar utter-
ances we have to do merely with a rhetorical imagery
which had no influence on the view held of the Madonna.
It is true that Mary's figure often absolutely disappears
in the allegories, and that what is said of her can in
many cases be equally well applied to any other of the
saintly personages. S. Birgitta, for instance, on one
occasion makes G-od the Father Himself speak of how He
nourished mankind with " the milk of His "Word " ; 35 and
xviii THE HOLY MANGEE 365
in Mechthild, and Catholic authors generally, the Mother
of Gk>d and the Church are often used as interchangeable
terms. When it is said that Mary nourished the
Apostles and the faithful at her bosom, the idea
"Church" has lent a number of its attributes to the
idea of the Virgin. Sometimes, on the other hand,
the Church is' in its turn described by qualities
that originally belong to Mary. This is the case when
Mechthild relates how S. Francis and S. Dominic were
" fed at the two breasts that are so full of sweet milk
that they never can run dry for these breasts are
the Old and New Testament, with which our mother
the Church suckles all the children of God/ 1 36 In read-
ing these daring similes one might feel uncertain whether,
even in those cases where she expressly mentions Mary's
name, the pious seeress was really thinking of the Virgin,
and not rather of an abstract idea. But if the theo-
logical and philosophic literature and it is under this
heading that the writings of Mechthild and Birgitta
must be classed has to do with indefinite concepts, on
the other hand the legends and works of art are quite
unambiguous in their concrete language.
Thus there can be no question of symbolism when
in the miracle-histories it is related that the Madonna
cured pious invalids with her healing milk. 37 It is also
told of some holy men that they were quite literally
refreshed by Mary's breast. The pious Suso relates
without reserve, and in a description of great detail, how
he tasted " den himmlischen Trunk " ; S8 and Bernard of
Clairvaux, who merited the Virgin's gratitude more than
any other man, was rewarded for all his panegyrics and
poems by Mary visiting him in his cell and letting his lips
be moistened by the food of the Heavenly Child. 39 This
event has been represented many times in pictorial art. 40
366 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
In all these cases it Is probable that the legends
arose from a too literal interpretation of the symbolical
language of the theologians, but the hidden meaning
of the notions " milk " and " breast " naturally remained
unknown to the majority of those who read the legends
or looked at the pictures. In the Madonna's gift to
S. Bernard a real " lactatio " was seen, just as in the
"Madonna and Child" nothing was seen save a picture
of human motherhood. All the dogmatic profundities
attached to the idea of Mary's bosom did not succeed
in exercising any immediate influence on artistic pro-
duction. All that can be supposed is that the ecclesi-
astical art-patrons perhaps excused, with the help of the
symbolical interpretation, such compositions as might
otherwise have appeared too worldly and ordinary.
The pictures themselves lose nothing of their religi-
ous or aesthetic worth through our not knowing that
the naked breasts can signify the Old and the New
Testament, or through our not remembering that the
suckling infant is " older than the worlds." For art
and poetry it is an actual woman, and not the symbol
of an abstract idea, that gives her milk to her child,
and gladdens her faithful worshippers with drops of the
Divine Food.
When once men began to conceive of the relationship
between Mary and the Divinity as a purely human rela-
tionship, they naturally wished to express the Madonna's
love for the Child. She would not have been a real
mother if she had only suckled her son. It could not
but be imagined that, as it said in the old Swedish
song, " she laid Him on her breast, and sweetly patted
Him and kissed." 41 When the Highest so far concealed
His might as to let Himself be born into the world
xvni THE HOLY MANGEE 367
as a helpless baby, He must, like other children,
have needed to be comforted with caresses, baby-talk,
and games. Mary knew well how the little one should
be cheered, and as pictured in later mediaeval art and
poetry she is, in motherly affection also, a pattern for
all earthly women. It was long, however, before this
trait became predominant in the Catholic Madonna-type,
for so much weight was attached to the divinity of the
new-born Child that men neither could nor would take
into account the possibility of any intimate and familiar
relations between Him and His mother. Therefore there
is, as a rule, no nai'vet^ in the accounts of the Nativity
given by the old Christian poets.
This rule is, however, limited by one great and
notable exception. Ephraim Syrus, the fourth-century
Eastern bard, has expressed in his Christmas Songs a
purely personal and almost dramatically vivid concep-
tion of the Holy Mother's loving play with her Child.
These Hymni de nativitate Christi in carne are all
the more interesting, inasmuch as they are not only
distinct from the poetry of the period and of the follow-
ing centuries, but also stand in sharp contrast to the rest
of the poet's works. Ephraim's diction is usually, as
appears from the examples recently quoted, stately and
cold in its rhetorical splendour. As a rule he emphasises
the theological and philosophic ideas so strongly that
he completely loses sight of the human element. " The
Eldest of Days," "The Mighty," "The Ail-Embracing "
are the epithets with which he most frequently praises
the new-born Son of God. He can even, in order to
illustrate the Child's loftiness in relation to the mother's
lowness, choose such strained similes as that in which
he compares Mary to a dove which bears an eagle on
its wings : " The tender dove bears on its wings an old
368 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
eagle, bears him and sings his praise in caressing
tones : Mighty Son, that didst will to prepare thy
conch in my poor dwelling, give power to my voice,
so that I may proclaim thy name with the voice of
Cherubim." 42
Such eloquence can naturally not be applied to
descriptions of a mother who caresses her child or
romps with it. In his Christmas Songs, however, the
old rhetorician climbs down from his high stilts and
condescends to talk in simple language. He makes
Mary say to the new-born Child : " Thou art to me a
child and a bridegroom and a God." And he describes
graphically how she comforts the little one in His
sorrows: "Mary bore the hero of the ages, the strong
giant, who issued from the Father's being, and who lay
hidden in the bosom of God. And the Virgin warmed
at her breast the new-born Child, caressed Him, and
rejoiced with gladness at His bed. And He Himself
looked smilingly at her, as a little child, where wrapped
in His swaddling-clothes He lay outstretched in the
manger of the stable. When He began to cry, His
mother arose to give Him milk from her breast, embraced
Him with affectionate caresses, and rocked Him on her
knee, and then the Child's crying ceased." 43
In another song Ephraim sets forth the humility with
which Mary fulfils her motherly duty. " She bore the
Child in her arms," he says, " caressed it, embraced it,
sung to it, and worshipped it, saying, ' Permit, Master,
that I embrace thee.'" 44 But if here, too, the poet
recalls the subordination of man to God, he does not
allow the mother to be troubled by her inferiority :
"Mary stands by thy side, thy mother, thy sister,
thy bride, and thy servant ; herself she bore thee, and
now she embraces thee with love, presses close to thee,
xvm THE HOLY MAtfGEB 369
kisses thee, praises thee, calls upon thee and thanks thee,
and offers thee milk from her breast ; she holds thee in
her arms, sings to thee, and smiles at thy childishness,
whilst thou, gay and smiling, dost receive thy food from
her bosom." 45
Over Ephraim's detailed, genre-like, and almost inti-
mate description of how the mother rocks the Child on
her knee and smiles at His joyful face, there lies a poetic
atmosphere for which one looks in vain throughout the
early Christian literature. Nearly a thousand years
passed before the Western Church made use of the
familiar method of treating religious motives. The
Roman Fathers spoke of the Divine Child as one
speaks of a dogma, and its mother was regarded either
as a dogma or as a moral example. Her qualities were
deduced with dialectical acumen from certain predomi-
nant fundamental qualities, and her beauty and virtues
were praised in majestic rhetoric ; but she was not seen
as a living and feeling human being. Only after the
Franciscan movement had taught the faithful to regard
religion as a purely personal experience, could pious
imagination form pictures of the mother's affection and
the Child's loveableness.
In his great work on S. Francis, Henry Thode has
shown how profound an influence the life and teaching
of the Umbrian saint exercised on Christian art-produc-
tion. He has specially emphasised the fact that it is in
the Franciscan poets that the earliest expression is found
of the naive poetry which is indissolubly associated
in our consciousness with the idea of the Madonna and
her Child. 46 It was Francis himself who, by his Christmas
festival at Greccio in 1223, originated the cult of the Holy
Manger that joyful and popular cult which includes
in its dramatic ritual so many naively poetical antiphons
370 THE SACBED SHKINE CHAP.
between Mary and the watcMng shepherds and kings. 47
In the Umbrian "Lauda," the Madonna's worship of the
Child and the marks of affection she showed to it is
described in a tone which unites the simple joy of
folk-song with the devotion of the religious hymn. 48
And in that Franciscan devotional book known as
The Meditations of Bonaventura is described in
detail how Mary " with joy and comfort and motherly
love " embraced and kissed Him " whom she knew to be
her God, and her son and master " ; how she " kneeled
before Him, before she took Him up from the cradle, and
when she laid Him down in it " ; and how frequently
and affectionately she gazed at His face and His " blessed
body." 49 The Meditations of Bonaventura, as is well
known, was one of the most widely read books of the
Middle Ages, and by it the Franciscan point of view
was spread through the Catholic world. Indeed, one
finds that after the thirteenth century Mary's relation-
ship to the Child was more and more regarded as a
subject which could be more suitably treated of in lyrical
poetry than in theological rhetoric ; and in this relation-
ship the mother is praised for that peculiar mixture of
reverent worship and pious familiarity which is sung of
in the Umbrian hymns, and which is so effective in the
Christmas Songs of Ephraim Syrus.
In pictorial art the motive has, to a great extent,
undergone the same development as in poetry. The
Mary who, on early Christian reliefs, presides over the
homage of the Magi or the shepherds, is too much of
a ceremonial figure to express any feeling of familiar
affection ; and we do not see any essential motherliness
in the woman who, in mediaeval reliefs, ivory carvings,
enamels, or manuscript illustrations, lies outstretched on
her bed close to the new-born Child. The artists have
xvin THE HOLY MANGER 371
often so sharply accentuated the Son's divinity that the
idea of a relationship between Him and His mother is
quite precluded. Thus, there are many works, especially
from the thirteenth century, in which the manger In
order to commemorate the connection between the sacra-
mental and the human incarnation has received the form
of an altar. 50 The woman who rests by the altar appears
here more as the foremost protectress of the high mystery
of the Sacrament than as a human parent of the tender
Child. In cases, again, where the Church j s symbolism
has not been expressly emphasised, i.e. where G-od's
bed is really a manger, this has often been placed
above Mary an arrangement by reason of which It
has been a technical impossibility to place Child and
mother In any kind of mutual relationship. 51 And
when, in exceptional cases, the mother rests beside
her Child, no motherly pride or affection has been
expressed in her bearing. She stares straight in front
of her, with a gaze which often seems sorrowful and
gloomy, and which gave some interpreters occasion to
assert that she was oppressed by presentiments of the
sufferings her Son would have to experience. 52
It should be added, however, that it is only during
a comparatively primitive period of art that the severe
and stiff Madonna-type is met with in representations
of the Holy Night. It is indeed still to be found in
Niccol6 Pisano's pulpit at Pisa, where Mary, in a
posture worthy of Juno, lies outstretched before the
manger, with eyes directed out into space in a calm
gaze, as if she were quite unmoved by the great event.
But already by Niccolb's son, Giovanni Pisano, mother-
liness has been expressed by the beautiful gesture with
which the Virgin lifts the veil from the Child's bed,
in order to look with joy and love at its face. In
372 THE SACRED SHEINE CHAP.
later art It has often been attempted to represent
Mary's feelings towards her new-born babe by the aid
of the same movement. Thus the lifting of the veil
has become the subject of manifold variations : the
gesture is a solemn one in the relief on Orcagna's
tabernacle in Or San Michele at Florence, melancholy in
the fagade sculptures of the Duomo at Orvieto, and
graceful in "Raphael's famous Madonna in the Palazzo
Pitti. However mutually unlike these compositions
may be, in all of them the ceremonial element has
been completely overcome by the expression of a purely
motherly tenderness. 53
In the history of those works which represent the
Virgin with the Child at her bosom, a similar develop-
ment may be observed from a Church severity to a
humanly poetic conception. In the earliest sculptures
and paintings there is no relationship between the God
and the earthly woman, and, although He sits upon her
lap, He appears to be as far apart from her as when,
in the pictures of the Holy Night, He lies in His manger
above or behind the resting Madonna.
Only by degrees were the two figures brought into
connection with each other. The decisive step was
taken during the eleventh or twelfth century, when
Mary was made to carry the Child on one of her arms.
This made it possible for Mother and Son to look at
each other, but it was long before a closer con-
nection between them was portrayed. Guido da Siena's
great painting in the Town Hall of his native city is
if, as the inscription says, it really was painted in 1221
one of the first compositions in which any expression
of real motherhood can be observed in the Madonna. 54
Nevertheless this Mary still stares almost absently out
of the picture. It is only in the statues of Giovanni
XYIII THE HOLY MANGEK 373
Pisano that the Virgin turns towards the Child, and their
glances meet familiarly. As soon as this arrangement
had been discovered, the group acquired a far greater
Intimacy. The mother looks into the Child's eyes,
sometimes with sad affection, and sometimes with arch
joy, and the Child reaches up towards His mother to
finger her dress or to feel her crown. Sometimes He
plays with objects that Mary offers Him : an apple which,
according to the theological interpretation. He will bless,
to take away the curse brought by Eve upon the fruit ;
some grapes, which refer to His own blood in the trans-
formation of the Sacrament ; or a little bird, which Is a
symbol for the soul. 55 It also happens that He rubs
His hands against the Virgin's cheeks or takes hold of
her chin to win from her a caress, and she fulfils with
affection His desires. Thus the pictures of the Madonna
become during the Renaissance so realistically vivid that
their high and mystic meaning is quite lost in an atmo-
sphere of human tenderness.
For an outsider it is not easy to decide where the line
Is to be drawn between the expression which harmonises
with the Church's view, and that which is too life-like
to be approved of by orthodox Catholics. Joy is not
considered in itself condemnable in religious pictures,
just as it is not banned in religious poetry, and tender-
ness Is described in exalted terms even by the preachers.
But when, as is the case with many of the late
Renaissance painters in Italy, and with the French
sculptors of the end of the thirteenth century, the
Madonna's joyful playing with her Child becomes a
coquettish archness, and when the caressing becomes a
" mignardise," then art indeed loses its religious
character. The faithful probably feel best satisfied
by compositions in which they see a motherly love
374 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP, xvm
combined with reverence for God, for Mary adores her
Child in a more literal sense than any human mother has
ever worshipped her first-born. There are, indeed, some
gestures in which this very characteristic of the
Madonna's tenderness is clearly expressed, and which,
therefore, wherever they are represented, give the
pictures a Catholic and religious character. When
Alessio Baldovinetti, for example, painted the Virgin
looking down at the Child in her lap with lowered eyes
and a translucent light over her face, we recognise that
there is devotion in her love. 56 We are reminded of
Crashaw's ingenious conceit, "'Iwas once look up, 'tis
now looke downe to heaven." 57 We seem also to see
how modest and careful was Mary's way of treating her
Child when we look at any of the pictures those of Fra
Angelico, for example in which the mother does not
kiss her little one, or embrace Him, but only lightly
rubs her cheek against His head. 58 There is tenderness
in this caress, but there is also a modest reserve, show-
ing that even to His own mother the Child is a god
more than a child.
CHAPTER XIX
THE SORROWING MOTHER
Der Mutter Antlitz blaszt in Todesschauer,
Die thranenlosen Augen sind verglommen,
Ihr stnmmer Mtuid vermag nicht melir zu flehen,
Kein sterblich Weib erfuhr so tiefe Trailer.
Das propbezeit' ihr einst das Wort des Frommen :
Bs wird ein Schwert durch deine Seele gehen.
A. W. SCKLEGEL, Mater dolorosa.
FROM the period immediately following the Divinity's
birth, the Church, has selected three events for com-
memoration : the Circumcision, the homage of the Magi,
and the Purification or Presentation in the Temple.
Of these events, the homage of the Magi, as has already
been mentioned, was often rendered in early Christian
art in connection with the miracle of the Holy Night,
In the Church calendar, however, " the day of the three
kings " is marked by a special festival two weeks after
Christmas ; and, in spite of exceptions occurring in
the production of the first centuries, both art and
poetry have as a rule made the greeting of the Wise
Men the subject of special compositions, which differ in
their whole character from the pictures and poems
which refer to the birth. While "the worship at the
manger" is conceived as an idyllic scene, where the
pious parents and the simple peasants adore the new-
born God-man, the so-called Epiphany is invariably
375
376 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
treated in the style of a festival. Here, what has to be
visualised is a meeting between earthly power, which
reveals itself in outer and visible pomp, and that
higher power which concealed itself in the person of the
little child. In proportion as art developed, such a
thought was more and more clearly emphasised. 1
Thus, during the Middle Ages, the Wise Men were
given crowns instead of the oriental caps or mitres
which they wear in the early Christian pictures, and in
literature they are more often spoken of as kings than
as Magi. Like vassals in the act of homage, they bow
meekly before the sovereign, the " rex regum," whose
empire is greater than any earthly sovereignty. By
the gifts they offer they express their reverence to each
of the dignities which distinguish the Divine Child.
Caspar, the eldest of them, brings gold to the king ;
Melchior, incense to the God ; and Balthasar, salves and
balsam to the man who will experience and conquer
death and suffering. He is all the more fitted to carry
these signs of sorrow, because he himself is a representa-
tive of the Camites, the black race oppressed by Noah's
curse, and he comes last in order because his people
were the last to partake of Christianity. Melchior, on
the other hand, stands for the race of Japhet, i.e. the
Aryans, who showed themselves the most receptive of
the doctrine of the divinity of the Saviour. The oldest
king is, of course, a Semite, who hands over the kingly
crown of the chosen people to the Jewish Messiah. Thus,
according to this interpretation, the greeting of the Magi
is equivalent to the homage of all mankind, i.e. of all
the known races, to the divine Saviour. 2
It is only natural that the little Child should occupy
a position in keeping with the solemnity of so great
an occasion. It would not do to follow the example
xix THE SORROWING: MOTHER 377
given by the Florentine painters in their pictures of the
worship of the shepherds by letting the God-man lie on
the ground and suck His finger. At the visit of the
kings, not only is His finger out of His mouth, but He
understands how to raise it, with a kingly and priestly
dignity, in a gesture of blessing towards His worshippers.
He is the new Solomon, a prince who gives audience in
His mother's lap. He sits on her knees, and leans
benevolently, not to say graciously, forward towards
the kneeling Caspar. The Madonna, again, is on this
occasion no longer the poor girl who has given birth to
her Child in a stable. She is loftily enthroned like a
Mother of G-od. She often wears a royal dress, and
occasionally, too, her head is adorned with a diadem or a
crown. Sometimes a canopy has been raised over her
place, sometimes she sits on a bishop's chair. It is
especially in northern painting that the greatness of
the Madonna has been emphasised by such outer
arrangements. The Italian artists, on the other hand,
have usually observed a simple form of composition,
but even with them the Virgin as a rule has a stiff
bearing which often gives an impression of indifference.
Only during the Eenaissance does her face begin to show
a more mobile expressiveness. We see that she shares
with interest in the homage to the little God, on whom
she looks down affectionately, and she regulates His
position with motherly care, so that Caspar may be able
to kiss the foot of the Child.
According to Venturi, the stiff expression in the
mediaeval pictures was due to the fact that the artists
desired to represent the fear experienced by Mary
when she was informed by the kings of Herod's threats.
Such a fear on the part of the Madonna has
indeed, as Venturi pointed out, been described in
378 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP.
religious poetry ; 8 but predisposition is needed in order
to discern any indication of this feeling in the sculp-
tures or paintings. We do not often find in art any
sign that Mary felt oppressed by the visit of the
lofty princes. On the other hand, this characteristic
has been set forth by those sacred poets who never lose
any opportunity of praising the Madonna's humility.
Thus, the author of The Meditations of Bonaventura
says : " See further, how shy Our Lady is of talking to
such great Lords. And how courteously she looked
down while she spoke, for she did not like to be seen or
to talk with them. But God gave her strength and
power in this great affair." 4
The Circumcision, the memory of which is celebrated
on New Year's Day, has comparatively seldom been
treated in art and poetry. It may, indeed, seem as if
such an event were in itself too unimportant to be
made an object of devout meditation. To a Catholic
mind, however, even this act is full of significance. It
was at the Circumcision that the Saviour received the
name Jesus, which to His worshippers is so full of
"sweetness, power, and greatness"; 5 and at the Cir-
cumcision was first poured out that blood which on
three later occasions on the Mount of Olives, at the
scourging, and on the Cross was to flow for the sins
of men. In those and in many other reasons, which
are expounded at length by Jacobus de Voragine, 6 lay a
sufficient cause for the Church to commemorate the day
when the God-man submitted to the ritual of the
Jewish race. It is quite intelligible, on the other
hand, why the ceremony itself did not offer many
motives suitable to artistic representation. Therefore,
also, those painters who have treated this subject the
xix THE SOBBOWING MOTHER 379
compositions of Fra Angelico, Filippo Lippi, and
Mantegna are the most famous 7 have departed from
historical accuracy in order to give the subject greater
solemnity. They have portrayed the operation as
taking place in a temple, and not, as was the Jewish
custom, in the child's home; and they have further,
as Abbe Barth61emy pointed out, been guilty of a
disturbing anachronism in representing Mary as present
in the Temple, although she would not have the right to
enter the holy place until after the purification and
sacrifice, forty days after the child's birth. 8 The way
in which the Madonna's figure has been portrayed
does not afford any opportunity for aesthetic or sym-
bolical interpretations.
If Mary does not play an important part at the
Circumcision, her place is all the more notable at the
Presentation in the Temple. 9 The Virgin is the actual
protagonist in this ceremony, in which in order that her
miraculous motherhood might be concealed from the
world, she underwent the same purification as other
mothers. 10 Candlemas, which is celebrated in memory
of this event, is therefore one of the great Madonna-
festivals, 11 and among the pictures connected with the
Presentation are some of the most important representa-
tions of Mary. One cannot speak or write of the
Madonna-type in art unless one has studied such com-
positions as Giotto's " Purificatio " at Padua and Assisi,
Ambrogio Lorenzettfs painting of the same subject in
the Accademia, and Fra AngeKco's fresco in the cloister
of S. Mark's at Florence ; for in the conception of
this motive appears an important feature which has not
come so clearly into view in any of the pictures referring
to Mary's earlier life. The Mother hands her Child
380 THE SACBED SHBIKE CHAP.
over the altar to the old priest, who receives it with
veiled arms, that his bare hands may not touch its
purity. The pictures make an impression of quiet
devotion by the mere affectionate reverence with which
the Holy Child is handled; but the figure of Mary,
as painted., for example, by Giotto, speaks of something
in addition to this. When she has parted with her
child, she stretches out her hands as if to lure it
back, and gazes after it with a long look of yearning.
In her bearing can be seen a clear harbinger of the
expression predominant with her when she has become
a mater dolorosa, and one feels all the more convinced
of the correctness of such an interpretation of the
pictures when one finds that in literature also the
motive was treated as a sad and serious one.
According to Catholic criticism, S. Luke's narrative
of the Presentation in the Temple contains a direct
prophecy of the sufferings Mary was to live through.
In the words spoken to her by the aged Simeon, we are
told, the whole great drama that the Madonna was to ex-
perience was foreshadowed : " And Simeon blessed them,
and said unto Mary His mother, Behold, this child is set
for the fall and rising again of many in Israel ; and for a
sign which shall be spoken against ; (Yea, a sword shall
pierce through thy own soul also), that the thoughts of
many hearts may be revealed" (Luke ii. 34-35). In
the Catholic Bible, the Versio vulgata, these obscure
words are translated in a more explicit sense : " Et tuam
ipsius animam pertransibit gladius " " And his sword
shall pierce through thy soul." His, i.e. the Saviour's
sword, could, according to the commentators, only be
understood as the lance which pierced Jesus' body at
the Crucifixion. By this explanation Mary's visit to
the Temple became associated with her suffering at
xix THE SOBBOWDTG MOTHEE 381
Golgotha, and the words of Simeon caused the Madonna
to be placed in a closer connection with her Son's
sacrificial death than the canonical text would in
itself have justified : " Ferrum lanceae militaris latus
quidem Salvatoris, anunam vero transivit Virginis
Matris" 12 "The point of the soldier's lance pierced
at once the Saviour's side and His Virgin Mother's soul."
On the basis of this combination of passages a special
moment was even invented in the Passion Story, the
so-called Transfixion, when "the sword went through
Mary's heart." ls It is this moment that is sung of in
the great G-ood Friday hymn :
Stabat mater dolorosa
Juxta crucem lacrymosa
Dum pendebat Filius,
Gujus animam gementem,
Contristatam d dolentm,
Pertransivit gladius.
The Transfixion at Golgotha, however, belongs to a
later stage in the Madonna's life. The " sword in her
heart," which Mary experienced during her visit to the
Temple, was only due to a presentiment of future
disasters; but the forewarning as such was a real
pain, in which all the Madonna's coming sorrows lay
enclosed as in a seed. The Presentation in the Temple
was regarded as the first station on the way of her
suffering, and this event has therefore, as an intro-
duction to the long series of sorrows, been the subject
of many pious meditations and religious outpourings.
Such meditations on Mary's temple-going became more
common than ever, when in the thirteenth century
it was made a task for devotion to seek in imagination
to live through Mary's so-called seven sorrows. Just
as, with a preference for the mystical number, seven
382 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
joyful events had been distinguished in Mary's life
the Annunciation, the Birth, the homage of the Magi,
Jesus 7 appearance after the Resurrection, the Ascension,
the Whitsun miracle, and Mary's Assumption so seven
sorrowful events were compiled in a corresponding series.
This series consisted of: (1) Simeon's prophecy; (2)
the flight into Egypt ; (3) the search for Jesus in
Jerusalem ; (4) the meeting with her Son on the way
to Golgotha; (5) the Saviour's death; (6) the descent
from the Cross; and (7) the burial. 14 These seven
sorrows formed together a Via Matris, corresponding
to the Saviour's Via Crucis. In the same way as
people ought, in imitation of Christ, to place them-
selves in His situation at every stage of His suffering,
so, in worshipping the Madonna, they ought in imagina-
tion to follow in her footsteps through all her experiences.
For the Servite monks it was absolutely a form of divine
service to think devotionally on the seven sorrows.
Religious art, again, naturally strove to represent these
situations, which had become so familiar to all believers
through devotional literature. Small song-cycles were
written, in which each separate strophe referred to one
of the seven joys or sorrows. 15 These selected events
were also portrayed in small pictures arranged side
by side on one and the same great canvas, or each of
the different sorrows was represented in a little frame
of its own, the separate pictures being united as
medallions on a single ribbon. 16 There even exist some
costly mediaeval rosaries with beads which can be opened,
and which contain inside small carved representations
of one of the joys or sorrows of Mary. 17
The first sorrow, which forebodes and includes all the
rest, is usually represented by a picture of Mary before
the altar, being addressed by the aged Simeon, but there
xix THE SORROWING MOTHEK 383
are many works in which a purely symbolical method
of illustrating the Biblical story has been employed.
Thus in mediaeval manuscripts, as in pictures and sculp-
tures, we often find representations of a solitary upright
Madonna with a sword stuck through her breast. During
the Middle Ages people were satisfied with one sword
only, which referred either to Simeon's words or to the
mother's suffering at the Cross ; but later, attempts
were made to include the whole long line of sorrows in
the pictures, Le. a special weapon was introduced for
each of the seven griefs. Thus arose those bizarre
pictures and images in which the Virgin carries a whole
set of swords stuck in her bosom. Where the images
were sufficiently large, all the sorrows represented by the
respective weapons were set forth in medallions on the
pommels of the swords. The symbolism had reached its
culmination, but the artistic effect suffered from a striving
after a too complex expressiveness. 18
The second of Mary's sorrows was caused by the
Flight into Egypt. In the canonical Gospels this event
is but shortly described, but the legends treat it all
the more fully. The apocryphal Book of the Childhood
of our Lord Jesus, especially, contains a number of
fabulous anecdotes concerning the adventures of the
Holy Family on the journey. 19 These stories, however,
have no direct nor indirect importance in the Madonna's
history. It is unnecessary, therefore, to pause over
the miracle of the idols which were shattered when
the Holy Child passed by or over that of the corn-
field wliicli grew up in a single night, so that the
sowers could truthfully answer Herod's emissaries that
they had not seen any family like the one pursued
"since they had sown their corn" or over the tale
of the robber who, moved by the Child's innocence and
384 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP.
the mother's beauty, harboured the holy fugitives in his
cave and, as a reward for his hospitality, received the
privilege thirty-three years later of being crucified on
the right hand of the Divinity. Of greater interest is
the story of the miracle performed by the Holy Child
when He commanded a palm-tree to bow its crown to
the ground, so that Mary could slake her thirst with
its fruit, 20 for it is significant that with this, His first
miracle, the Saviour does a service to His mother.
Therefore the palm-tree of the legend, which is often
represented in pictures of the Flight into Egypt, 21 affords
a proof of the good relationship which reigned between
the Holy Mother and her Divine Child, and which,
according to tradition, prevailed during all the stages
of the Saviour's life.
As regards this relationship the New Testament
narrative is altogether too meagre to satisfy the be-
lievers. They could not imagine that He. who had
been a model of all human virtues, had not also been
a good and affectionate Son, and that she, who had
borne the most perfect of all children, had not guarded
and loved it more affectionately than any other mother.
Pious visionaries, therefore, painted in imagination a
communion between mother and Son which was more
loving than any human relationship, and they de-
scribed with close details Mary's way of fostering the
little God. If the authors themselves had experienced
the joys and sorrows of parentage, they introduced,
perhaps unconsciously, their own recollections into the
tales of the perfect mother.
It was by such an unintentional act of composition
that S. Birgitta built, out of dreams and her own ex-
periences, a description which is so just in its realism, that
xix THE SOEEQWING MOTHEE 385
the fiction becomes as convincing as any reality. There is
a true motherliness in the manner in which the Swedish
Abbess makes Mary tell of all her Son's marvellous
qualities. She describes in detail His little body, the
whiteness of His limbs, His purity and His good
behaviour from the very first day of His life. She does
not even fail to say that "there was never any dis-
order nor any uncleanliness nor any insects in His
hair." 22 We see how motherly pride satisfies itself in
that garrulous talkativeness which is so unintelligible
and wearisome to all childless people, and so inexhaust-
ibly interesting to all mothers. We understand the
naive circumstantiality with which Mary describes how
" with tears of sorrow and bitterness " she clothed her
Child in the tunic which she knew would be taken
away from Him at His Passion that tunic, she adds
bitterly, " for which they who crucified Him cast lots,
and none had that tunic while He lived but He alone." n
And we are moved above all by the evident satisfaction
with which the mother speaks of all the filial solicitude
and all the proofs of affection that the God-man gave
her.
Birgitta's visions of the relationship between the
Madonna and her Son are unsurpassed in their naive
intimacy probably just because she who had experi-
enced the visions was herself a mother, who had had
to bury some of her own children. But there are in
mediaeval literature many other authors who completed
the Gospel narratives with equally detailed, if with less
life-like descriptions of the mutual affection of Mary
and her Divine Son. In The Meditations of Bona-
ventura, for example, a lengthy account is given of
many everyday details in the life of the Holy Family,
and of many small occurrences, unnoticed in the Bible,
386 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
by which the Child's obedience and His mother's
affection are shown. We learn to return to the Flight
into Egypt that during their residence in a foreign
country the Virgin supported her family by working
at the spinning-wheel and by sewing for hire. 24 We
read of how, when confronted by her third sorrow
the Search for Jesus in Jerusalem she sorrowed over
the loss of her Child, and of her joy when she found
Him in the Temple ; and one is specially struck by the
way in which the meeting between mother and Son is
described. "The boy," it runs, "immediately went
forward to her, and she took Him affectionately to her
bosom, and kissed Him lovingly and laid her face
against His, and holding him to Her breast she rested
an hour with Him." 25 It is seen that on this occasion
also Mary employs the same characteristic caress which
has been so often portrayed in artistic representations
of the Madonna and her tender Child.
It is a significant addition to S. Luke's Gospel that
the boy, as soon as He sees His mother, of His own
accord goes to meet her. As in this example, so on
the whole no opportunity was missed of showing how
happy the Son was in Mary's company. Therefore
the author of " Bona Ventura's " Meditations has specially
mentioned that Our Lord, when leaving the marriage
at Cana to begin His work of teaching, first wished
to accompany His mother to her home : " For such an
escort should Our Lady have : See now how humbly
they go home on foot, and how sweetly they walk
together Mother and Son." 26
An instance, still finer in its naivete, of God's love
for His earthly home is given in the chapter of the
Meditations dealing with the forty days in the wilderness.
When the temptations were over, says the author, the
xix THE SOEEOWING MOTHEE 387
Saviour was fed by angels, but we are not told in
the Scripture with what kind of food He was fed. We
cannot suppose, however, that the angels brought any
earthly food from heaven, and it is still less con-
ceivable that Jesus should have performed a miracle
merely to satisfy His own bodily necessities. Neither
did He need to take any unusual step, for He well knew
where He could get the meal He liked best. " Therefore
He said to the angels, ' Go to my dear mother, and get
and bring me what she has just prepared. For I eat
no food so gladly as hers/ Then two of the angels
betook themselves and were at the same hour with
Mary. They greeted her reverently and proffered their
message. And they took what little she had prepared
for herself and Joseph, together with bread and a nap-
kin and whatever is needed for a meal, and brought it
all to the Lord. And Our Lady took care to procure
some small fishes, and when she had got them she sent
them by the angels to her Son." 27
The intimacy of the relationship between Mary and
the Saviour appears most clearly, however, on those
occasions when the Son is compelled to separate Himself
from His mother. Thus Bonavenfrura [?] has described
how the Virgin takes leave of Jesus with tears, when
at the age of twenty-nine He leaves His home to begin
His work of teaching ; 2S and he has written a long chapter
on that other parting which is even sadder, because
both know that it is irrevocable when the Saviour
goes forth to celebrate the last Easter-festival at Jeru-
salem. 29 At this farewell, which has been represented
pictorially by Diirer, Correggio, and Lotto, among
others, Mary definitely takes on that expression of a
" Mother of Sorrows " which predominates with her
during all the great events of the Passion Story. 80
388 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
The drama of the Passion, as is well known, is
introduced by Mary's fourth sorrow, i.e. the meeting
between the mother and the bearer of the Cross on the
way to Golgotha. 31 S. Luke's account of how the Saviour
turned to the weeping women has given artists an
opportunity of bringing Mary into close contact with
the condemned man. For she has been given a place
at the head of the crowd, and consequently it is she
who first meets the Saviour's eye. In the composi-
tions of Giotto and his successors a severe dignity
marks the silent meeting of Mother and Son. He walks
erect, bearing His Cross over His shoulder, and she like-
wise stands upright when she answers His look. Only
by wringing her hands does she show the grief that is
rending her. In Raphael's " Spasimo," on the contrary,
and in the late Renaissance pictures, the Saviour sinks
under the Cross, and Mary falls to the earth at His side.
This arrangement is more dramatic than the composi-
tions of the earlier painters, but Catholic criticism
prefers the Trecento view, in which the religious and
divine element is better recognised.
When at the foot of the Cross Mary witnesses God's
death-struggle, her suffering has reached its culmina-
tion. One is apt to imagine that this fifth sorrow
could not have been represented either in picture or
poem otherwise than as a violent emotion. Even with
regard to this motive, however, the Church writers have
striven to impress on artists the necessity of observing
a strict and dignified reserve. In pictorial representa-
tions of the Crucifixion, therefore, may be observed
the same opposition between a hieratically stiff and a
dramatically expressive conception which has so often
been referred to in the preceding chapters.
xix THE SOBEOWEffG MOTHEE 389
In the few Passion scenes wMcli are to be met
with In early mediaeval art, both the Crucified and His
mother have been given a quiet bearing, free from
suffering. So far as the Madonna is concerned, this
is due in many cases to the fact that her figure fills
a purely symbolical function. She is expressionless,
because she is an idea and not a human being; for
in pictures of the Passion Mary often represents the
Christian Church, whose empire commences at the
moment when the synagogue which is represented
on the opposite side of the Cross by the apostle John
is shattered at the death of the sacrificial Lamb. 32
It would be incorrect, however, to apply this sym-
bolical explanation to all the earlier mediaeval repre-
sentations of the Passion. There are many compositions
in which the artists clearly desired to give purely
historical descriptions of the sad scenes of Good Friday,
but even in these pictures we seek in vain for any
expression of that violent grief which one imagines the
Holy Mother to have experienced. Mary does not weep,
and her body is undisturbedly dignified and erect.
She only puts her hand to her cheek to rest her weary
head, or raises her mantle to her face as if to conceal
her sorrow. It might be supposed that the artists
represented these gestures of still and restrained grief
which were perhaps borrowed from antique models 33
because they felt their technical inability to render
violent outbursts of feeling. It would, however, be a
misapprehension to assume only some such external
reasons for the dignified character which marks the
earliest pictures of "Maria juxta crucem." It was a
predominant conception of the Madonna which was
thus reflected in art. The faithful wished to think that
she, who had borne her Child without pain and who
390 THE SACEED SHKINE CHAP.
had been freed from all the impurity and infirmities
of human nature, could also lose her Child without
being broken by sorrow. She was a pattern of moral
self-control, as of all other virtues. In this connec-
tion she is invoked by Ambrosrus in his elegy on
the death of Valentinianus : "Durum quidem funus
videtis, sed stabat et sancta Maria juxta crucem Filii,
et spectabat Virgo sui unigeniti passionem. Stantem
illam lego, flentem non lego " " I read that she stood
[at the Cross], but I do not read that she wept." 34
These words of the old Church Father have often
been quoted in support of criticism of those art-works
in which Mary sinks to the earth in sorrow, and
many reasons have been advanced for the contention
that the Madonna could not have failed to preserve
her dignity even at her Son's death. 35 Just as the
orthodox aestheticians will not permit the Holy Mother
to be portrayed at her child-birth as lying or resting
upon a bed, so they are unwilling to admit that she
should be represented otherwise than in an erect
position at the Crucifixion. 36
As has already been mentioned, however, it is only
in earlier mediaeval art that the demands of Church
aesthetics for stoicism in expression have been fully
complied with. In contrast to the emphasis laid by
the early Fathers on the courage "and self-restraint of
the Madonna, a new conception arises, according to
which Mary not only suffered at the Cross, but also
expressed her suffering in lamentations. This view
becomes prominent in literature earlier than in art;
and, as is generally the case with the literary treatment
of holy subjects, such an emotional element is in the
first centuries more developed in the Eastern Church
than among Eoman Catholics.
xix THE SORROWING- MOTHEE 391
Thus in an old Syrian poem which, probably in-
correctly, bears the name of Ephraim Syrus, Mary
is described as weeping and lamenting over "her
heart's deep wound." 37 Her suffering receives here as
dramatic an expression as does her mother's joy in
the Birth Songs of the great Oriental bard which have
already been quoted. In Greek literature we meet with
a similar treatment of the Madonna's "fifth sorrow/'
which is dramatic also in form. In the old poem, " The
Suffering Christ/' which was long ascribed to Gregorius
of Nazianz, more than half the verses consist of an
almost unbroken monologue, in which the Mother of
God gives expression to her sorrow. In its form,
this, the oldest of Christian dramas, is an imitation
of classical tragedy. A great number of verses have
even been copied, with unimportant alterations, from
the tragedies of Euripides. 38 It is only natural, there-
fore, that Christian martyr-heroism does not show
forth in the portrayal of the Virgin's grief. In some
editions of the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus (also
called the Acta Pilati), a Greek work thought to
date from the fifth century, it is related that the
Madonna fell unconscious on the way to Golgotha,
and that at the Cross she wept in despair. 39 And in
those lyrical poems that are named Staurotheotokia,
the Holy Mother is described as crying in a loud
voice. In one of them it is even said that she tears
her hair in an excess of anguish. 40
So far as is known to us, no such descriptions of the
Madonna's sorrow occur in Latin literature throughout
the first ten centuries. 41 The only analogy to the Greek
poems that we are able to quote is the " Meditations
upon Christ's Suffering," which has been ascribed to
Bede, and in which it is related how Mary weeps from
392 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
sorrow and confides her Son to God, and, after His
death, falls on her face to the ground. 42 It Is im-
possible to say, however, whether the work actually
dates from the time of Bede or from a much later
period. All that can be definitely asserted is that
from the commencement of the twelfth century re-
ligious authors began with a marked predilection to
observe the Madonna's anguish and her share in her
Son's suffering upon the Cross. 43 This was due not
merely to the fact that from this time Mary occupied
a more and more lofty place in Christian devotional
life. It was also based to a large extent on the dog-
matic assumptions, to the effects of which we have
frequently had occasion to refer. The old Doketist
heresy, which had so often been refuted and which
nevertheless always came to the front in some new
disguise, was at work in the explanation of the Passion-
drama. However zealously the dogmatists sought to
impress the fact that the Saviour was a real human
being at the same time that He was a God, people
could not imagine that the Almighty even in His
earthly shape had suffered in a death-struggle. They
could not but think that, had He only desired it, He
could have made an end of His anguish, or at least
have won comfort from the consciousness that His
death was a passing thing. 44
Mary, on the contrary, was a human being like
all others, and her unhappiness was therefore quite
intelligible. The more intimately the relationship
between Mother and Son was conceived, the more
profoundly must she be imagined to have partaken of
His suffering. Thus was reached the conclusion
which has, of course, been of inestimable importance in
the development of the Madonna -cult that by her
xix THE SOEEOWMG MOTHEE 393
sorrows the Virgin actually had a share in the work of
Atonement. S. Birgitta, for example, in one of her visions
makes the Saviour say : " And therefore I wish to say
that my Mother and I saved mankind as with one
heart, I suffering in body and heart, and she suffering
the heart's sorrow and love." 45 In another vision the
Saviour pays this tribute to His mother : " I bear thee
witness that thou [didst suffer] more and bear more
agony in the hour of my death than any martyr." 46
And Mary herself explains: "For as Adam and Eve
sold the world for an apple, so we redeemed the world
with a heart" 47
In the Meditations of Bonaventura, indeed, Mary
is not spoken of as assisting in the Eedemption, but
her suffering at G-olgotha is set forth as emphatically
as by Birgitta. " The grief and sorrow of Mary," we
are told, " increased greatly her Son's anguish, and He
pitied her tribulations more than His own. And well
may it be said that she suffered on the Cross with her
Son, for she would have chosen to die with Him rather
than to survive Him." 48 She suffers agony with the
Crucified One, and prays to God that His anguish may
at least be lightened for she no longer dares to ask
to have Him back alive. He, again, entrusts her to His
Father's care, and points out how innocently she suffers,
"for I was to be crucified and not she." He has
such a loving solicitude for her that He avoids every
word which might increase her sorrow. It is for this
reason, says the author of the Meditations , that he said
to John : "Behold thy Mother," but to Mary : " Woman,
behold thy Son." For He would not address her by the
dear word " Mother," lest " in her affectionate love she
should grieve even more than before." 49
In the monological, and sometimes dialogical form,
394 THE SACRED SHKME CHAP.
in which Mary's fifth sorrow is treated, the chapter on
the Crucifixion in the Meditations corresponds with
the so-called Planctus poems. These remarkable songs,
which from the beginning of the twelfth century become
more and more common both in Latin literature and in
that of the modern languages, have so many points of
contact with the Greek poems just alluded to, that it
has even been supposed that they were directly in-
fluenced by them. 50 It is not necessary, however, to
assume any such influence. The personal and inti-
mate devotion, which appeared in Catholicism during
the thirteenth century, must naturally have led people
in imagination to dramatise we use the term in its
widest meaning the events of the sacred history.
Meditations were directed more than ever before to the
drama of the Passion, and in this drama, for the reasons
already given, attention was above all paid to the part
of the human mother. When by pious imagination
her sorrow had been made one's own, it was inevitable
that the utterances of poetry should become more
human and more passionate than the old orthodoxy
would have permitted. Thus arose the essentially,
and often formally, dramatic Lamentations of Mary
or Planctus, which offer so striking a resemblance
to the Syrian Good Friday hymns and the Greek
Staurotheotokia.
S. Ambrosius would certainly have had much to criti-
cise in this kind of Mary poetry. In the Planctus songs
the Mother of God does not refrain from weeping, nay,
she even weeps tears of blood. She stands by the Cross,
indeed, but she also time after time falls unconscious,
and she loses her self-control in repeated shrieks of woe.
The extent of her suffering appears in the prayer which
occurs in most Planctus and also in the lately quoted
xix THE SOREOWIKG MOTHEB 395
extract from S. Birgitta's visions that she herself may
die rather than have to survive her Child. The intimate-
ness of her feeling is seen in the bitterness with which
she recalls in memory all the joy which the Crucified
had given her from His tenderest infancy. Motherhood
thus finds a natural and purely human expression in
the Madonna's hopeless despair, but there is nothing
of the dignity of the God-bearer in her lamentation,
and still less is there any Christian resignation. In this
respect all the Planctus songs differ from that great
hymn which corresponds with them in subject, and
which has therefore often been wrongly denominated a
" Lamentation of Mary." 51 Stdbat mater dolorosa is
sadder than any other of the chants of sorrow of the
Catholic Church; but it reveals to us not so much
Mary's own lamentation, as the sympathising grief of
the unknown poet. The Madonna is represented indeed
as sorrowing, groaning and weeping, but she does not
break out in shrieks. This reserve contributes more
than anything else to the lofty and imposing character
of the hymn.
The artistic representations were of course in many
respects influenced by the literature concerning the
lamentation of Mary. Planctus poetry indeed belonged
to that branch of literature which no one could help
knowing. In all the modern languages songs were sung
about Mary's sufferings at Church festivals, at the
assemblies of the Franciscans, the Flagellants and the
Laudesi, and at religious theatrical representations. The
dramatic element in the form of these poems made them
especially suitable for recitation at the great feasts. In
many cases it even appears, from, accompanying stage-
directions, that the songs were originally intended for
theatrical purposes. 52 In other cases, again, it has been
396 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
possible to show that they formed a kernel round which
greater dramas were grouped. The religious theatre,
again, as has often been pointed out, has exercised a
direct influence on the compositions of pictorial art.
It is therefore to be expected that we shall recognise
in pictures and sculptures many of the gestures and
expressions described in the Planctus poems.
As related above, however, it was long before the
dramatic and emotional conception passed from literature
into art. In the northern countries people still preferred
in the thirteenth century to represent the Madonna as
unbroken by her grief. In Italy, on the other hand,
where the great devotional movements influenced
aesthetic production almost immediately, the figure of
Mary received a humanly agitated expression even
during this century. In his treatment of the Crucifixion,
Giotto himself portrayed the Madonna's spasimo,
though in such a way that in the excess of her grief she
yet retained her lofty dignity. 53 Later, her fainting
became a common motive, which was repeated number-
less times in Italian, German, and Dutch pictures
of the Crucifixion. At the same time, in pictures of
a symbolic rather than an historical character, the old
stiff arrangement was still employed, according to which
the Madonna and John stand upright on either side of
the Cross. 54 In some Renaissance pictures of this kind
such, for example, as Perugino's Crucifixions the ex-
pression is so quiet and restrained that the bearing of
the Madonna would satisfy even Ambrosius. During
the later Renaissance the naturalistic treatment gains the
upper hand both in the representation of the Crucified
and of His mother, but even now artists usually avoid
rendering the extreme emotions described in literature.
Mary still retains in her sorrow that grace which always
xix THE SORROWING- MOTHEE 397
distinguishes her movements, while the Magdalene on
the contrary throws out her arms and distorts her
features with violent shrieks.
The same contrast between the Madonna and the
Magdalene in their mourning over the dead appears in
the treatment of the sixth sorrow, i.e. the descent from
the Cross and the preparations for burial. The latter,
who was once a sinner, shows an almost earthly passion
in the gestures by which she expresses her intense
despair. Mary, too, is sorrowful in the presence of the
dead, but at the same time she is quiet and restrained,
and she embraces the corpse with that mild affection
peculiar to motherhood. In this respect the descriptions
of poetry and art correspond admirably.
According to an old legend, the Madonna herself
assisted in the descent from the Cross. She loosened
the Saviour's right arm and supported His body, while
Nicodemus removed the nails from the left hand and
the feet. Then she seized the Dead One's hands and
kissed them and bedewed them with tears. 55 This
motive has often been rendered In manuscript illustra-
tions and reliefs of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.
In some Western works of art perhaps in connection
with the directions given in the Greek " Painter's
Handbook " from the monastery of Mount Athos the
Madonna is even made to receive the Saviour in her arms
and kiss His face. 56 In the view of later ages it was in-
conceivable, however, that the sorrowing mother should
have had sufficient strength to partake in a work which
must have been too great a tax on her in both a physical
and a mental sense. In the description in The Medita-
tions of Bonaventura which may have been the model,
for example, for Niccolo Pisano's relief at Lucca Mary
398 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
only takes the right hand of the dead Man, kisses it and
holds it to her eyes ; 5T but even compositions of this
kind are exceptional. In the majority of Renaissance
works the Madonna lies swooning on the ground while
her son is being taken down from the Cross. Her
motherly caresses are portrayed instead in connection
with the later events which constitute the subjects of
" The Lamentation of Christ " and of the so-called
" Pieta " compositions.
The subject for these compositions is given in detail
in The Meditations of Bonaventura, Soon after Our
Lord had been taken down from the Cross, we are
told, Joseph requested Mary that the dead body might
be wrapped in a shroud and buried. But she would
not part from Him, and asked that she might keep her
Son a little longer. And she wept and dropped tears
when she saw the wounds in His side and on His hands,
and gazed at His face and His head that had been
dealt with so discourteously and contemptuously. She
plucked the hair from the wounds and removed the
stiffened blood, the spittle and the tears, " and could
not be satiated with the pitiful sight." But as it was
now late in the evening John sought to persuade Mary
to delay the burial no longer. Our Lady, who was
reasonable and forbearing, kept her friends waiting no
more but allowed them to shroud Our Lord as they
wished. And she herself held His head in her lap, and
prepared to wrap it up, while Magdalene with tears of
sorrow washed " the feet at which she had found mercy."
"When they had shrouded the dead body they looked at
Mary as if to ask that she should allow herself to be
led to the grave, and thereat they all began to weep
anew. And when she saw that she could delay no
longer she laid her face against her Son's and said :
xix THE SORROWING MOTHEK 399
" My dearest Son, now I hold tfa.ee dead in my bosom.
Hard is the band which death has to break. Glad and joy-
ful was our communion. Without malice and ill-feeling
we lived among men, and yet thou art now killed as he
who has forfeited his life. Thy Father would not help
thee and thou hast died for mankind. Where shall I
go now ? I desired to be buried with thee and may not
be, but my soul is buried with thee." " And while she
thus spake, she washed His face with the excess of her
tears far more than the Magdalene had washed His feet,
and then dried it, and kissed His mouth and eyes, and
carefully wrapped His head in a napkin. Afterwards
she blessed Him, and all fell upon their knees and
prayed to Him and kissed His feet. Then they bore
Him to the grave ; Our Lady held His head and the
Magdalene His feet, and the others bore Him in the
midst." 58
It is difficult to decide if it is this description which
originally gave rise to the representations of Christ's
burial, or if " Bonaventura's " narrative was influenced
by ancient pictures and sculptures; but it is in any
case certain that the Meditations exercised a decisive
influence on pictorial art. We are reminded of the
unknown author when we see the compositions of
Cimabue, Loranzetti, Giotto, Fra Angelico, Perugino,
and indeed of all the great Renaissance masters. The
washing of the corpse with the tears of the holy women,
the mother's kisses and embraces, and the sad proces-
sion to the place of burial have been represented
numberless times in sculpture and painting. Still
more often has that moment been rendered when Mary
holds the dead body to her breast and, with the same
caress that she had so often given the tender infant,
strokes her face against His. Such a "pieta" forms
400 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
a complete correspondence, or rather contrast, to the
pictures of the Virgin's mother-joy. We imagine that
we see the Madonna dreaming herself back to the
time when she used to play with her new-born child on
her knee.
This resemblance between the two scenes has been
set forth by some authors even more clearly than in the
Meditations. According to the Kevelations of Birgitta,
Mary experienced when caressing the dead body the
same joy as when she held her Child to her breast, " for
she knew that her Son would die no more, but live
eternally." 59 S. Bernard of Siena has given a still more
ingenious interpretation of the story of Mary and the
Saviour's body. The Madonna, he says, dreamed that
it was her little Child which she held to her bosom. She
rocked Him to and fro, and she covered Him in the
shroud as if it had been swaddling-clothes. 60 There
exist also some old sculptures which might be under-
stood as illustrations of this thought, for in them the
Saviour's body has been made so small that Mary can
comfortably carry Him on her knee like a child. It is
probable, however, that this manner of portrayal was
due rather to technical limitations than to any deliberate
purpose, 61 for the great artists have all represented the
dead Man as tall and full-grown. Few of them, however,
have succeeded in solving the problem of placing His
figure on the Madonna's bosom gracefully. In some
cases, as in the great picture of a Provengal master in
the Louvre, the Saviour lies in an arch over Mary's
knees, with His feet resting on the ground. In other
compositions such, for example, as Cosimo Tura's
picture in the Museo Correr at Venice the effect of
seeing the tall body embraced like a little child in the
arms of the aged mother is absolutely grotesque.
xix THE SORROWING MOTHER 401
Michelangelo alone, in his Pieta at S. Peter's, has suc-
ceeded in treating the subject in a powerful and dignified
style. He has made the Madonna supernaturally great
rather like the antique Demeter he has let the dead
body attach itself gracefully to the lines of the mother's
imposing shape, and he has given her countenance the
quiet expression of a strong woman in her full and
unspoiled beauty. As is well known, Michelangelo
had to meet the criticism that he had represented the
Mother of God as much too young in relation to her
Son ; but in the famous answer with which, in the
presence of his friend Condivi, he met these objections,
he proved that he had made his Church's view of the
Madonna his own. " Do you not know," he said, " that
pure virgins retain their good looks better than the
impure ? All the more must she have remained youth-
ful, in whom stirred not the slightest sensuous desire
that could affect her body. But I will say still more.
We must also remember that such a freshness and
youthful bloom, quite apart from its having been pre-
served in her in natural ways, had been brought about
by a divine miracle, simply in order that her virginity
as a mother and her eternal purity might be demon-
strated to the world." 62 This view has by no means
universally reigned among artists. Some of them
Crivelli may be mentioned as an example have even
made the Madonna much older than she was, according
to the legends, at the time of her Son's death. 63
Mary's participation in the burial, as has been said,
forms the seventh of her sorrows. The renderings of
this subject in art and poetry throw no new light upon
the doctrine of the Madonna's personality. The only
notable feature in the legend is that already touched
402 THE SACRED SHKINE CHAP.
upon in an earlier chapter namely, that the Virgin
before returning to her home blesses the grave as the
place in which God would for a time be enclosed in the
same way that for nine months He had dwelt in her own
womb.
From the grave, we are told, the mother betook
herself to the place of execution and there prayed to
the Cross on which her Son had rested. As, say the
Meditations, she had been the first to worship the
Divine Child, so she was also the first to perform her
devotions at the Cross. 64 On the other hand, she was
not among the pious, who three days later betook them-
selves to the grave with spices and ointments to do
homage to the dead. Those artists who ascribed to her
a share in that pious action have, according to Catholic
critics, been guilty of misrepresenting the true facts.
It ought not to be imagined, they tell us, that Mary
felt any need of visiting* the death-chamber. She was
too firmly persuaded that her Son would soon rise again. 65
And to her, before any one else, it was revealed that
He was alive again.
The pious worshippers of the Madonna have not
been able to reconcile themselves to the idea that the
God-man omitted to reveal Himself to Mary immedi-
ately after the Resurrection. In the Apocryphal legends,
in devotional literature, and in the poems on Mary's
life, the Bible narrative has been completed by a chapter
on how the Saviour, in filial love and reverence, betakes
Himself to His mother. 66 According to the Latin Vita
B. Virginis Marie rhythmica, He even pays her two
visits; first to inform her of His resurrection, and
later to give her the promise of her ow r n Assumption. 67
In one of S. Birgitta's visions the Madonna herself insists
with emphasis that she had been gladdened by the
xix THE SOEEOWING MOTHER 403
earliest appearance of her risen Son. " And/' she says,
" He was seen earlier by me who was His mother and
grieved by inconceivable sorrow, than He was seen by
any one else. And He appeared to me sweetly and
affectionately, gladdening me and saying that He would
ascend to Heaven in the sight of many. And although,
for the sake of my humility, this has not been expressly
written, yet it is the most certain truth that my Son
when He arose from the dead showed Himself to me
before any other person." 6S
Even this event in Mary 7 s life, which introduces the
series of her four last joys, has been described in detail
by the author of the Meditations in a short and
graphic chapter. It is interesting to see how even at
this last meeting all the affection which existed between
Mother and Son is condensed in expressions combin-
ing veneration and love. It was, we are told, early on
the Sunday morning when Our Lord arose from the
grave. His mother was sitting at home, praying to
God that He would let her Son come back to her. He
had promised to come on the third day, but still He was
not there. "But while she thus prayed, so that the
tears flowed from her heart's sweetness, suddenly Our
Lord Jesus entered from one side in whitest garments,
with shining face, mild and glad and proud and full
of honour and said to her : c Salve Sancta parens.'
While she turned she said : c Art thou my son Jesus ? '
And she fell on her knees and prayed to Him. He
likewise fell on His knees and said : ' My sweetest
mother, it is I ; I have arisen from the dead and now
am here with thee.' And when they arose she em-
braced Him with flowing tears of joy, and pressed Him
close to her, and they laid their faces side by side, and
she leaned upon Him and He supported her." 69
404 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP, xix
It is in this position, with, her face laid by His, and
affectionately embracing Him, after first having prayed
to Him on her knees, that the earthly mother should be
thought of in connection with her Divine Child. She
is familiarly tender with Him who was born of her
womb, but she never forgets that He is a higher Being
than she.
CHAPTEE XX
MABY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION
Mortals, that behold a Woman,
Rising 'twixt tlie Moon and Sun ;
Who am I the heavens assume ? an
All am I and I am One.
Multitudinous ascend I,
Dreadful as a battle arrayed,
For I bear you whither tend I ;
Ye are I, be undismayed 1
I the Ark that for the graven
Tables of the Law was made,
Man's own heart was one, one Heaven,
Both within my womb were laid.
For there Anteros with Eros
Heaven with man conjoined was,
Twin stone of the Law, Ischijros,
Agios Athanatos.
FRANCIS THOMPSON,
Assumpta Maria (New Poems}.
FROM tlie last chapters it should be clear that the
Apocryphal literature is relatively poor as regards the
period in Mary's life which coincides with the Saviour's
activity as a teacher. The legends are principally
attached to the canonical narrative, and they complete
only those chapters in it which were thought to have
been too scantily treated by the evangelists. The
Passion Story itself has indeed been enlarged by the
important additions of the Madonna's sufferings at the
Cross and of the risen Saviour's visit to His mother ;
but concerning the whole time between Jesus' birth
405
406 THE SACEED SHKINE CHAP.
and His death, the pious legends have little to tell us
about Mary. The circle of miracle -stories which is
associated with the Flight into Egypt does not add any
notable features to her character. It seems thus as if
religious authors had been shy of touching the narrative
which had been treated in the canonical text ; or it is
perhaps more correct to say that they did not wish to
write anything about Mary's life during the time her Son
claimed the devout thoughts of the faithful for Himself
alone. Before He had been born, Mary was a pro-
tagonist in the sacred story ; but for as long as He was
alive on the earth, she was thrust into the background
in favour of the Divine Man. From the moment, how-
ever, when His earthly existence had ceased, Mary
regained her rank as the foremost of all created beings,
and the legend- writers were free to treat a subject in
regard to which the canonical narratives had absolutely
nothing to relate. Therefore there exists a rich circle of
stories comparable with the legends of the Madonna's
birth and childhood referring to this last stage of
Mary's life.
Immediately after the departure of the God-man,
His mother, according to the Catholic view, occupies a
predominant place in the first Christian community.
Tradition has in this case based itself on certain meagre
indications in the canonical text, and boldly drawn
conclusions from them. It has been attempted, by the
aid of forcedly ingenious interpretations, to decipher
hidden references to the Virgin in the apostolical letters ; 1
and special weight has been laid on that passage in the
first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, in which it is
expressly said that among those who assembled with
the disciples for common prayer and devotion were
Jesus' brothers and certain women and "Mary, the
xx MARY'S DEATH A2JD ASSUMPTION 407
mother of Jesus." It was easy, on the strength of this
expression, to suppose that she had also been present at
the festival of Pentecost, when the Holy Ghost was
outpoured over the disciples. By the use of a some-
what freer interpretation, it could also be assumed that
the Madonna had witnessed the mystery by which her
Son had been taken up to Heaven. Therefore, ever
since the fifth century her figure has been introduced in
pictorial representations of the Ascension and the out-
pourings of the Holy Ghost. These events moreover,
as we have already seen, have been regarded as the two
last of Mary's seven joys.
In the earliest renderings of the Ascension Mary is
often pictured as an orant, i.e. as a praying woman
with outstretched hands. Her figure is here probably
symbolical. She represents the society of the faithful,
the Holy Church, and it is only natural, therefore, that
she should occupy the central place in the compositions.
During the later Middle Ages, when she was conceived of
as a person and no longer as an idea, it might happen
as in the case of Giotto's fresco in the Arena Chapel at
Padua that Mary's figure was placed a little on one
side; but the worship of the Madonna even at this
time, and similarly during the Eenaissance, usually
led to her being given the foremost place in the
pictures. In the representations of the miracles of
Pentecost, moreover, in the earliest as in modern art,
it is round the Madonna that the Apostles are grouped.
Thus, if we judge by the tale told by pictures and
sculptures we receive the impression that when their
Master was absent, the faithful directed their reverence
instead to His mother. 2
There are also many Apocryphal legends, according
to which Mary was an object of worship and venera-
408 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
tion even during her lifetime. In De divinis no-
minibus, a work by the half-mythical writer Dionysius
Areopagita, we read of a visit that this disciple of S. Paul
pretends to have paid to the Mother of God. " "When
John/' we are told, " presented me to the sublime Virgin,
I was surrounded by an infinite and divine light which
penetrated me, and I was filled by such a stream of
perfumes that neither my body nor my soul could bear
this full and eternal blessedness. I felt my heart and
senses fail me when I was overwhelmed by the majesty
of her glory." 3 Such gorgeous descriptions are indeed
exceptional in Mariologic literature, but the actual
fact that Mary was visited by the faithful is mentioned
time after time in the legends. The newly converted,
we are told in mediaeval poems, betook themselves
to Jerusalem in order to see her who had borne the
Divinity in her womb, and to receive from her a
confirmation in their faith. S. Paul remained some time
with her before beginning his missionary journeys, and
it was by the Mother of God herself that he was
initiated into the mystery of the Incarnation. S. Luke,
it is said, wrote his Gospel at Mary's dictation, just
as with his brush he portrayed her features in those
ancient pictures of the Madonna which, during the
Ages of Piety, were thought to possess indisputable
authenticity. Ignatius, John's disciple, exchanged
letters with the Virgin on the Christian religion, the
contents of which are still preserved for the edification
of the faithful. 4 The Madonna also visited the believers
herself when they could not come to her, and
strengthened them both by her advice and by her mere
presence. She healed the sick and brought the dead to
life, and performed more miracles than any of the
Apostles. But the greatest miracle was her own life.
xx MAEY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 409
For on the model of the Protoevangile's description of
Mary's childhood, a pious story concerning the Virgin's
last years was composed during the Middle Ages. Just
as in her childlike innocence so this legend made clear
she was a pattern for all young girls, so as an old
woman she was " a mirror of virtue " for the Christian
matron.
The same qualities which marked the infant Mary are
distinctive of the character of the old woman, with the
addition only of the dignity of advanced age. Siie
continues to be so humble that she shows reverence
for every one who comes in contact with her, and
regards herself as inferior to all others. She is lovable,
kindly, and easy of access in society ; ready to give her
sympathy to the unfortunate, but herself serene and
mild. Although she avoids all superfluous talk, she is
willing to speak of her Son, and by her tales converts
many to a belief in Him. At the same time she is so
shy that she shuns all great assemblies, and even in the
Temple seeks for some inconspicuous corner. When she
goes along the street on some pious errand, she walks with
head bowed and eyes directed to the ground. Seldom
does she look those who meet her in the face, but if she
is greeted by them she always answers Deo gratias,
tibi pax. Her dress is dignified and simple, and
has never been either stained or torn since her Son left
the earth. Her clothes and furniture are poor, but
spotlessly clean, and clean is everything belonging to
her or surrounding her.
In the whole of this description which, with many
details that are omitted here, may be read in the
old poem Vita JBeate Virginis Marie et Salvatoris
rhythmica the influence of the ascetic ideal of life can
be easily recognised. 5 In diligence and exercises of
410 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
devotion, the Madonna was a model for all cloister
sisters ; but none the less it would be incorrect to liken
her to a Christian nun. It appears from the poetical
biography that Mary does not wear a penitential dress,
since she had no need to be cured of any faults. 6 She
did not kill nature in herself, because she was by nature
absolutely pure. There was no overcoming in her life
and no struggle with temptations ; therefore she is not
ascetically severe, but graceful, humorous, and serene
as naive virtue and original instinctive innocence. She
is a perfect being, chosen to bear the Godhead in her
womb. During her years of growth she was pure, since
no pollution could cleave to the tabernacle in which the
Highest was to take up His abode, and in her old age
she was no less pure, because the temple could not be
soiled in which He for a time had dwelt. Purity, again,
was regarded in each case not only as a moral but also
as a physical notion. Just as in the Protoevangile
Mary was nourished with heavenly food, so, according
to the Vita rhythmica, the aged Mother of God
daily received angels who brought her bread from
her Divine Son's table. No other food, we are told,
might pass her lips. We see how the idea of the
sanctity of the shrine prevails even in the last chapter
of the biography of the Madonna.
This thought, however, receives its most notable
expression in the legends of Mary's death and assump-
tion. If people would not admit the possibility of any-
thing earthly polluting the living temple, still less, of
course, would they allow that this temple had been
subjected to decay and transformation. That the God-
man Himself suffered from all the conditions of human
existence was an inevitable consequence of His sacrifice ;
He had to die to perform His work of Atonement, and in
xx MABY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 411
order to convince men of His humanity H3 must undergo
physical pains and humiliations. On the other hand,
His mother, who was likewise free from sin and who was
not under the necessity of making any sacrifice (beyond
her suffering at the Cross), ought to have gone free from
the punishment for sin. She had been born without
spot, and brought her Child into the world without
pains therefore she ought also to be released from life
without the death-struggle which forms the end of
earthly beings. Just as her childbirth was not con-
nected with anything impure, so after death her body
ought not to have undergone any of the humiliating
changes to which all other human beings are subjected.
Pious feeling resisted the idea that that, which had been
a home for the Divinity, should decay in the earth and
be consumed by worms.
In the earliest Christian literature not many expres-
sions of this view are to be found/ but it may be
concluded that such a line of thought, even during the
first centuries, unconsciously lay at the root of the
faithful's idea of the Madonna. It is, indeed, significant
that as late as the fourth century the Fathers of the
Church do not apparently know anything as to the
manner of the Virgin's departure. Accounts were written
of the deaths of all the great saints, and relics were dug
up of even the least important persons who had been
mentioned in the sacred history. Only in the case of
her who stood nearest the Divinity was there nothing
to tell in this respect ; it was not known, it was said,
when she died or where she was buried, nor could the
smallest relic of her body be shown. Such reticence,
as Professor Lucius has pointed out, could only have
been due to the fact that people were shy of the mere
thought of the Madonna's death. 8 Pious imagination
412 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
sought some expedient which should release it from the
necessity of associating the idea of the Mother of God
with the idea of mortality. So long as such a way was
not found, people refrained from speaking or writing
about Mary's departure; but her death was openly
recognised, and was made the object of devout medita-
tions, as soon as a legend could be cited which served
to explain away all that was natural and human in
the event.
In this case also it was Eastern Christianity which
provided the faithful with the fiction required. Experts
have not indeed succeeded as yet in definitely deciding
when and where the legend of Mary's death originally
arose, but it is for many reasons considered most
probable that it was some Syrian worshippers of the
Madonna who composed from the old legends a new
legend concerning the Virgin's last days. In any case it
is from some Eastern country that the Transitits sanctae
Mariae was introduced during the fifth century into
the Eoman Church. At first it spread slowly, and the
Fathers expressed themselves unfavourably towards it ;
but this did not prevent the faithful from delighting in
a legend that harmonised so well with existing ideas
ab'jut the Virgin. Later, when in the seventh century
a special festival the 15th of August had been estab-
lished, on the oriental model, in commemoration of
Mary's death, the narrative of her Tran&itus, or Dormitio,
and her Assumptio won ever extending recognition.
Artists and poets made no distinction between these new
apocrypha, and the older canonical or apocryphal texts
from which they derived motives for their works.
Preachers, again, even if they did not directly intro-
duce the oriental legend, made use of the stories
related in it. Thus the idea that Mary even in
xx MABY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 413
her death formed an exception to all other created
beings, and that her body had been transported to
Heaven, entered once for all into the minds of believers ;
and the legend of the Virgin's ascent into Heaven
became the subject of numerous adaptations in the
language of both the Church and the laity. 9
It is not necessary to give an account of how all
these variations differ. If we desire to give a clear
and complete general view of the pious narrative, it is
most advantageous to confine our attention to some one
of the later versions which have borrowed features from
many different sources. Of all these mediaeval com-
pilations, again, none is so well known, and none has
exercised so great an influence on art and poetry, as
that which Jacobus de Voragine wrote for his great
Saints' Calendar. It is, therefore, the text of the
Legenda aureti, that will here be summarised and com-
mented upon.
When the Apostles so the narrative begins had
dispersed in order to preach the G-ospel to the heathen,
the Virgin remained in her home, which lay at the foot
of Mount Sion. She was, according to Epiphanius,
seventy-two years old at this time ; but Jacobus con-
siders, on the strength of what Eusebius asserts, that
she had not exceeded the age of sixty when she was
taken up into Heaven.
Mary was now more alone than ever before, for
on her recommendation John, too, had betaken himself
on missionary journeys. She lived, it seems, as a per-
petually sorrowing mother, in memory of those years
when the Saviour was on earth, for, says Jacobus, " she
did not cease to visit with assiduous piety those places
that had been hallowed by her Son, i.e. where He had
been baptised, where He had fasted, prayed, suffered,
414 THE SACBED SHKINE CHAP.
and been buried, and that from which He had ascended
into Heaven." 10 These pilgrimages, however, could not
quench her yearning, and one day her longing to see
her Son again became so strong that she burst into
bitter weeping. "But then an angel appeared, sur-
rounded by light, and greeted her reverently as his
Master's mother, and said to her : ( Hail, blessed Mary !
. . . Behold I bring thee a branch of a palm from
Paradise, that thou must have borne before thy coffin
after three days, for behold thy Son waits for His
venerable Mother.' And Mary answered the angel : ' If
I have found grace before thine eyes, I pray thee tell
me thy name. But before all I beg 1 thee that my sons
and brothers, the Apostles, may be collected around me,
so that I may see them before I die and give up my
soul in their presence and be buried by them. And
this, too, I beseech : that my soul, when it leaves my
body, may not meet any evil spirit, and may not fall
into the power of Satan.' And the angel answered :
c Why dost thou wish to know my name, which is great
and venerable ? But know that this day all the Apostles
shall assemble here, and that in their presence thou
shalt breathe out thy life. For He who once carried
the prophet of Judah to Babylon by a lock of His hair
needeth not more than a moment to bring all the
Apostles to thy side. And for the evil spirit, thou
hast nothing to fear from Mm, thou that hast crushed
his head under thy foot and robbed him of all his might.
But thy wish shall come to pass, and thou shalt not see
him/ And when the angel had said this he ascended
to Heaven, and the palm he had given Mary shone with
a blinding light. It was a green branch, but its leaves
were as bright as the morning star." n
It seems peculiar that Mary, who was guiltless,
xx MABY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 415
should feel any fear of evil spirits and the power of
the devil. 12 This passage in the legend has its explana-
tion, however, if read in connection with the twelfth
chapter of the Revelation of S. John. For it is there
said (xii. 13-14) that the great dragon, i.e. the ancient
serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, persecuted
" the woman which brought forth the Man Child." And
to the woman, it is said, " were given two wings of a
great eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness, into
her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times,
and half a time, from the face of the serpent." The
place of salvation was probably, as Renan conjectured,
the little desert town of Pella, where the Christian
Church, i.e. the woman with the Man Child, took refuge
from the persecution of the Romans after the fall
of Jerusalem. 13 This historical counterpart to the
apocryphal image was unintelligible, however, to the
later generations of Christians, and the woman of the
Book of the Revelation "clothed with the sun, and
the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of
twelve stars " (xii. 1) was explained instead as a symbol
of the Virgin Mary, who stood in perpetual conflict
with the old serpent. It was, therefore, natural to
suppose that the Madonna, when she learned that her
end was approaching, was disquieted by the thought of
the dragon's attack. On the other hand, there was con-
tained in the Revelation a prophecy that the powers of
death should not prevail against the woman; and it
would have been no unusually free interpretation had
the prophecy been taken to mean that the Madonna
had ascended on the wings of the eagle to the Child
who had gone up to Heaven before her. Professor
Lucius, at any rate, has attempted to show that the
verses in the Revelation concerning the woman and the
416 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
dragon were one of the original sources of the legend
of Mary's Assumption. 14
The story of the angel comforting Mary by recount-
ing her victory over the devil is based on a remarkable
misinterpretation of another passage in the Bible. The
great prophecy in Genesis : " It (i.e. the woman's seed)
shall bruise thy (i.e. the serpent's) head, and thou shalt
bruise his heel," has been rendered in the Vulgate by
" Ipsa conteret caput tuum, et tu insidiaberis calcaneo
ejus " " She shall bruise thy head, etc." This erroneous
translation has naturally contributed to increase the
weight laid on Mary's share in the Redemption, 15 and
it has also had its importance for the artistic representa-
tion of the Madonna. Just as, in connection with the
recently quoted verses from the Eevelation, she was
portrayed as a star-crowned figure surrounded by light
and standing upon a half-moon, so too she has also
been made to trample upon a crawling serpent.
The actual vision of the angel is, of course, a copy of
the narrative of the Annunciation. There must have
been something attractive to religious imagination in
the idea that the Madonna's death and reunion with her
Son were introduced by a message similar to that of
the Incarnation, by which she was first united with
the Godhead. Strangely enough, however, the latest
Annunciation has seldom been illustrated. The most
famous and important treatment of this motive is to be
found in one of the reliefs round Orcagna's tabernacle in
Or San Michele at Florence. 16 Mary is here represented
as an old woman with a widow's cap over her head.
Her countenance wears a grave expression, showing
that she has experienced many trials since she received
Gabriel's greeting ; but otherwise her position is the
same as in the pictures of the "Annunciation of the
xx MAEY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 417
Virgin." She sits with a book on her knees, as then,
and now, too, her right hand is raised in a defensive
movement towards her neck. The palm-branch in the
angel's hand is the differentiating characteristic of the
later angel visit. More clearly than this attribute,
however, the grave demeanour of the giver and receiver
of the message is witness to the fact that it is a greeting
of death, and not of life, which is this time brought to
the Madonna.
In the matter of the angel's gifts to Mary, the
various forms of the legend do not agree. The poetical
biography of Mary, Vita rhythmica, for example,
makes the messenger give the Madonna not only a green
branch, but also a winding-sheet, sewn by angelic hands. 17
Again, the palm-branch, which corresponds to the lily-
stem in the first Annunciation, is, according to Jacobus de
Voragine, plucked in the groves of Paradise. In another
version, on the other hand, it comes from the tree that
bowed its crest to the Madonna and her Child during
the flight into Egypt. 18 As a reward for its obedience
the palm received a promise that it should never be
withered up ; and after one of its branches had been
borne before the Virgin's coffin, the entire tree was
taken up into the garden of Paradise, where it provides
the saints with palms of victory. 19
In the chapter on the Death- Annunciation there is
nothing further to comment upon, except the angel's
mention of the prophet who had been carried by his hair
from Judah to Babylon. These words refer to the story
of Ezekiel (viii. 3 and xi. 24), who was transported to and
fro between his place of exile and his mother-city. God
was now to perform a similar miracle, for Mary's sake,
with His Apostles, but on this occasion He did not
employ so harsh a method as in the case of the Jewish
418 THE SACKED SHRINE CHAP.
prophet. For It happened, we are told in the continuation
of Jacobus de Voragine's narrative, that on the same day,
while John was preaching in Ephesus, the sky suddenly
rumbled, and a white cloud seized the Apostle, and car-
ried him through the air to Jerusalem, to the threshold
of Mary's house. 20 He was greeted with tears of joy
by the Virgin, who told him of her imminent death,
and bade him take care of her body, that the Jews
might not gain possession of it. John replied, regretting
that the other disciples were not present to partake
in the funeral and praise Mary's name ; but he had
not finished speaking when all the Apostles, at all
the different places where they were preaching, were
lifted up by white clouds and carried to Jerusalem.
They were at first utterly astonished at finding them-
selves assembled outside Mary's home, but John
explained to them why God had brought them back
to the sacred city, and warned them not to weep when
Mary died, in order that the people might not be dis-
turbed in their faith by seeing that they who preached
of the Eesurrection to others were themselves afraid
of death.
Mary, however, prepared for her death. She sat in
the midst of the Apostles, and had lamps and candles lit
around her. Thus she devoutly waited for her Son to
receive her soul. At the third hour of the night Jesus
Himself came, followed by legions of angels, troops of
patriarchs, armies of martyrs, cohorts of confessors, and
choirs of virgins. The whole of this heavenly host
grouped itself before Mary and sent up pious hymns.
At first, we are told, Jesus said to His mother, " Come,
my chosen one, to my throne, for I long for thy beauty,"
and Mary answered, " Lord, my soul is ready." Then
those who came with Our Lord sang softly in the
xx MAKY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 419
Madonna's praise. But Mary sang : " All generations
shall call me blessed ; for He that is mighty hath done
to me great things ; and holy is His name." (As we see,
the legend makes the Virgin repeat a part of the hymn of
praise which, according to S. Luke's Gospel, she sung at
her visit to Elizabeth.) And the leaders of the heavenly
choir chanted, "Come from Lebanon, my bride, come
from Lebanon, to be crowned queen" (cf. Song of
Solomon iv. 8). And Mary answered : " Behold I come,
for it has been said of me that I shall fulfil Thy will,
my God, and my soul rejoiceth in Thee." In the same
moment her soul went out from her body, and flew into
her Son's arms, and she was as free from all fleshly pain
as she had been strange to everything impure. After-
wards Jesus bade the Apostles bear His mother's body
to the valley of Josaphat and bury it in the grave that
was prepared for her, and to wait for His return in three
days.
" But her soul was surrounded now by red roses that
were the troops of martyrs, and by white lilies of the
valley that were choirs of angels, confessors, and virgins,
and carried by the Son it ascended with them towards
Heaven. The Apostles cried after her, c Whither goest
thou, wisest mother? Eemember us, thou our
mistress ! ' The saints, too, who had remained in
Heaven, heard the singing of the mounting hosts, and
saw with amazement how their King was bearing a
woman's soul in His arms, and how she leaned upon Him,
and they cried out in astonishment : ' Who is this that
comes up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?'
(cf. Song of Solomon viii. 5). But those who followed
her answered, ' She is fair among the daughters of
Jerusalem, as ye have seen that she was full of mercy
and love.' And thus Mary's soul was carried in joy to
420 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP.
Heaven, where she sits on the throne of honour at her
Son's right hand."
Such, according to the Legenda aurea, was the
course of events at Mary's death. Jacobus de Voragine's
account includes the most important of those moments
which have been rendered in poetry and art, but
many episodes were described with greater detail
in other variations of the legend. In sermons and
poems, also, the events have often been adorned with
effective details which lend a greater realism to the
narrative. Thus Metaphrastes, for example, mentions
that when Mary received the angel's message, she not
only had many candles lit in her home but also had her
room cleaned and her bed prepared. Further, we are
told, she summoned her neighbours, and all the poor of
Jerusalem, whom she used to support with her gifts, to
communicate to them her coming departure. 21 In the
Vita rhythmica, again, it is related that after the
angel left her, Mary showed her palm-branch and her
shroud to " the women who lived together with her."
Then the poet describes how these women wept at losing
her "motherly breast" and her kindly conversation. 22
In this as in so many other renderings of the legend,
Jesus makes His entry during a heavy rumbling in the
sky. The room is filled by sweet scents and the place
around Mary is surrounded by a dazzling light. The
perfume was so strong, we read in one variation,
that all present, except the Apostles and three
torch-bearing women, fell into a deep sleep, which
prevented them from seeing the heavenly guests. 28
All these details, however, have so little influence on
the general character of the narrative, that it is
unnecessary to examine them closely. 24 It is more
important to notice how the legend gained increased
xx MAKY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 421
life and vividness through being represented in pic-
torial art.
Mary's death could not, of course, be illustrated in
early Christian art, since the legend itself was unknown
at that time ; but from the tenth or eleventh century
the motive appears in ivory carvings, manuscript
pictures and mosaics, and it has often been represented
by the later Mediaeval and earlier Eenaissance painters.
In Germany this subject, like the birth of Mary, has
been very popular, perhaps because it afforded oppor-
tunities of portraying one of those house-interiors which
have always been so dear to German artists. In this
respect also the religious plays have probably had
their effect on pictorial art. 25 In their composition the
majority of the pictures roughly correspond with one
another. Mary lies outstretched on a bed, round which
the Apostles are grouped in different positions. Some
of them read in great folios, and others swing censers,
or sprinkle holy water over the dying woman. The
Saviour usually stands at the Madonna's head, and He
bears in His arms her soul, which has flown from out
her body. The soul again, in accordance with the
ancient tradition in art, is represented as a little child,
clothed in white linen or in a mantle reaching to the
feet. 26 When we see the little figure carried upon the
Saviour's arm, we think we recognise the same infant
as has been represented so often in the pictures of the
Madonna's Presentation in the Temple.
In the attitudes and gestures of the Apostles is
expressed, quietly and restrainedly, the grief they feel
at losing their own and their Master's mother. Some
of them hold their mantles in front of their faces to
conceal their tears, others appear lost in pious and
sorrowful meditation ; but they all remember John's
422 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
warning not to show any fear of death. No outburst
of lamentation occurs by the bed on which the pure
Virgin takes leave of life, and the dying woman her-
self is the calmest of all. She rests with her hands
crossed or closed in prayer, while lights shine on her
embellished and carefully -prepared bed. Her face
wears the clear and peaceful expression of one who
slumbers in a quiet sleep, 27 One is reminded of those
mediaeval preachers who zealously asserted that Mary's
departure was a " repos," and the Church does not allow
mention of her death, for the rubric of the text which is
read in memory of her departure is written not MOTS,
but Dormitio beatae Mariae Virginis**
The strictly Church point of view could, however,
be carried still further than in the compositions described
here. When believers had really steeped themselves
in the idea of Mary's sinlessness, they would not even
admit that any weakness had come upon her before her
pure soul left her body. Thus there are pictures in
which the Madonna does not lie down, but sits upon
her bed; and in the older Holbein's picture at Basle,
Mary has not gone to bed at all, but awaits her death
in a chair. From such an arrangement it was only a
step to represent the Virgin as kneeling in the midst
of the Apostles. In this way the last chapter of Mary's
history could be brought into complete harmony with
the earlier events of her earthly life. Just as she had
no need to lie down and rest when her Son was born
so it was probably reasoned and just as, in spite of
her deep sorrow, she stood by the Cross when she lost
Him, so, too, she was upright when she herself was to
depart from the earth. " I will not believe/' says
Molanus in his great work on the ways of representing
holy subjects, " that she was outstretched upon a bed,
xx MABY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 423
like the sick, and those who end this life in pain (cum
venia pictorum et sculptorum), but I will rather suppose
that she, who was not discomforted by any smarts or
oppressed by any infirmity, gave up her soul to God
with knees reverently bowed and with hands stretched
out towards heaven in prayer/' 29
There are not many works of art whose composition
would fully answer to Molanus's description, which
indeed dates from a time when Church symbolism had
lost a good deal of its vitality; but one of these
strictly orthodox pictures, that by Martin Schaffner in
Munich, belongs both symbolically and aesthetically to
the most remarkable of the representations of Mary's
departure. 30 The mild grief which, according to custom,
had to prevail in the treatment of this motive, has
seldom been expressed so beautifully as in the poetical
painting of the Ulm master. The censer, the vessel of
holy water, and the lighted candelabrum show, indeed,
that it is a death-room which is portrayed ; but we can
see clearly that Death has been powerless against the
pure Virgin. She stands upright, although her hands,
which had been lifted in prayer, have sunk to her sides.
John and James support quite lightly her lifeless body,
while over her face there still remains a look of trans-
figured calm. Her earthly existence has just ceased, it
seems, but at the same moment her celestial life
has begun. Therefore, in the upper corner of the
picture, Schaffner has represented the soul making its
entry into Heaven. It is a little girl with long flying
locks, who, borne on a cloud and surrounded by angel
" putti," stretches out her arms towards the Saviour, who
waits to receive her into His home. A second Presenta-
tion in the Temple this picture might well be called.
The attitude and gesture are here the same as those
424 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
of the Mary who with, such glad courage ascends the
lofty steps to the Tabernacle at Jerusalem. The child-
ishness and the na'ive grace by which Anne's daughter
"won all the people's love/' are retained unaltered in
the old woman's soul. A Catholic dogmatist would
probably see in the G-erman picture a proof that one
who lives a long life without being defiled is inwardly
as young in her old age as in her childhood.
Martin Schaffner's composition, as we see, departs
from the legend in making Mary's soul be received
by the Saviour only when up in the clouds. Some
Italian painters, on the other hand, following the
apocryphal writings, let the little child float up skyward
in the Divinity's arms. 31 It was, however, only in
exceptional cases that the Ascension of the Soul was
represented at all. Catholic art and poetry have usually
preferred to render the so-called Assumption (i.e. the
taking up of Mary's body), which is the subject of
the later chapter in the story of the Madonna's
departure.
The Virgin was unlike all created beings in that
even her body was perfectly pure. It was this body
which had enclosed God, and therefore it could not
be allowed to remain on the earth. To the faithful
it was in itself holy, even after the soul had aban-
doned it. Therefore the outer, purely material part
of Mary's being had its own history, which symbolically
and aesthetically is the most notable portion of the
Madonna-legend. This miraculous history, which closes
with the Ascension of the Body, takes place immedi-
ately after the "Dormitio," i.e. after the moment when
the Virgin fell asleep in a painless death.
When Jacobus de Voragine has mentioned how
xx MARTS DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 425
Mary's soul was transported to Heaven, tie returns in
Ms narrative to the room of death. We learn that the
three virgins who were present began to disrobe the holy
body in order to wash it; but as long as the work
lasted, the corpse shone with so strong a light that it
could not be distinguished even by those who were
touching it. It should not be forgotten that already
Johannes Damascenus had affirmed that at this washing
it was the water which was cleaned by the corpse. 82
Afterwards the Apostles reverently and carefully lifted
the dead woman and laid her on a bier. When Mary
was about to be carried to her grave, a noble strife
arose amongst the foremost disciples as to their pre-
cedence in the procession. John wished Peter, whom
God had chosen as shepherd of His sheep, to walk
before the bier with the angel's palm -branch in his
hand ; but Peter thought that this place was due to
John, who had become Jesus' disciple while His body
was still virginal. " It is most proper," he said, " that
a virgin should bear the Virgin's palm " ; and it was
Peter's will that prevailed. Peter and Paul bore the
dead woman with the help of the servants, while the
other Apostles walked beside the bier, and sent up
the chant which had been sung when Israel went out
of Egypt. "And the Lord surrounded with a cloud
both the bier and the Apostles, so that their voices
were heard, but they could not be seen. And the
angels joined with the Apostles and themselves sang
also, so that the air was filled with marvellous sounds."
During the procession to the grave Mary's presenti-
ment that the Jews would attempt to capture her corpse
were confirmed. The people in Jerusalem, who heard
the celestial song and saw the cloud round the Apostles,
understood that it was the tabernacle of the Lord which
426 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
was passing. They incited each other to kill the disciples
and burn the body which had borne " the impostor/' The
High Priest raged most furiously of all, and he rushed
towards the bier to overthrow it, but his hands were
paralysed and stuck to the bier, while the angels that
were hidden in the cloud struck the other Jews with
blindness. Only when the priest was converted to a
belief in the Saviour and His mother were his hands
released, and he regained the use of his arms when he
kissed Mary's bier. Those of the Jews who were willing
to believe were cured of their blindness after their eyes
had been touched by the heavenly palm-branch. The
Apostles continued their procession, and laid the Virgin
in the grave prepared for her. According to the
Saviour's command, they stayed there three days to
wait for His return.
It is not difficult to understand how the legend of
the miracle of Mary's burial arose. The Virgin's body
had been compared, in its character of a sacred shrine,
to the Old Testament Ark of the Covenant. It was
an easy step, therefore, to let that body be surrounded
by a cloud when it was carried at the head of the
procession of the faithful. Neither was much imagina-
tion required to think out the episode of the High Priest
who was paralysed when he touched the Virgin's coffin.
For the miracle is the same as that told of Uzzah, who
ventured to touch the Ark of the Covenant when it was
being carried into the city of David (2 Samuel vi.)
with the difference only that Uzzah was " smitten " for
his audacity, while the High Priest only lost the use
of his arms. This milder form of punishment recalls
the story of Salome, the unbelieving midwife in the
Protoevangile.
If we start from Peter's saying that John, as an
xx MARY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 427
undefiled youth, was most worthy of bearing the
Virgin's palm, we may find our way to another source
of the legend. For this saying is not the only example
of the pure disciple being put forward as a male counter-
part to the Virgin.
It was he who, next to Mary, had stood closest to
God, and followed Him most faithfully during His
Passion. It was also thought that there was an in-
dication in the Scriptures of John's love for the Saviour
having been rewarded. In the Fourth Gospel it is said
(xxi. 23), "Then went this saying abroad among the
brethren, that that disciple should not die." These
words were not confirmed by the canonical books ; but
in the apocryphal Acts of the Apostles, which were
widely disseminated during the first centuries, there
was a Gnostic legend concerning John, according to
which he, like Enoch and Elijah, was taken up to
Heaven, both body and soul.
If this could be told of him who had lain on the
Saviour's breast and preserved his chastity for His sake,
it must be supposed that a similar privilege would be
granted, with still greater reason, to her who bore the
Saviour in her body and who was by nature pure from
the very commencement of her life. Such a line of
thought, as Lucius pointed out, is responsible for certain
features in the story of Mary's departure being taken
from the legend of John. 83 Just as the legend of Mary's
birth was influenced by the account in the Gospel
narratives of John the Baptist's aged parents, so the
legend of Mary's death was shaped under the influence
of the legends about the Apostle John. The corre-
spondence between the two miracle-histories is indeed
striking. John, like Mary, receives an annunciation
of his departure, for the Saviour Himself, we are told,
428 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
appeared to him and told him that on the next Sunday
he would be united to his Master. John, like Mary,
summoned all his disciples and forewarned them that he
would shortly leave them. Then he went with them
outside the city of Ephesus and chose a place where
he had a grave dug. At the grave he prayed for the
last time to God, praised the Saviour as a Eedeemer
of souls and a conqueror of demons, and thanked Him
for the grace which had befallen him in that he had
succeeded in living a pure and virginal life. When
he finished his prayer, his figure like Mary's body
was encircled by so brilliant a light that no one could
endure to look at it. Then he lay down in the grave
and gave up his spirit. But when the disciples betook
themselves next morning to the open grave they did
not find John's body, but only his sandals, which clearly
proved that the Apostle had been miraculously taken
up to Heaven.
So scanty an account, however, was not sufficient in
the legend of Mary. The Saviour Himself, it is said in
the continuation of the Golden Legend, went down to
earth a second time to fetch the tabernacle in which He
had rested. He came accompanied by hosts of angels,
and He saluted the waiting disciples. And He asked
them what honour they thought He should show to
His mother. They answered : " It seems right to Thy
servants, Lord, that even as Thou, after Thy conquest
over Death, reignest through the ages, Thou shouldest
now awake Thy mother's body and give her for ever a
place at Thy side." In the same moment the angel
Michael brought Mary's soul from Heaven. And Jesus
said : " Arise, Mother, my dove, thou tabernacle of glory,
thou vessel of life, thou heavenly temple, that thy body,
which has never been polluted by fleshly sin, may not
xx MARY'S t)EATH AND ASSUMPTION" 429
suffer in the grave the decay of the flesh." Then her
soul returned with Mary's body, which arose shining
from the grave, and with the hosts of angels ascended
through space.
This, however, Is only a relatively meagre and matter-
of-fact account of the miracle. In sermons and books of
devotion the event has been the subject of far more ex-
tensive expositions. 84 In these descriptions the appari-
tion of the Saviour is accompanied by shining clouds and
heavenly sounds and sweet scents, and Mary's entry
into Heaven is described as a splendid triumph. If, it
was said, God ordained that the Ark of the Covenant
should be borne in pomp into the city of David, He
must certainly have taken care that His own mother, the
human ark, was carried into the Heavenly Jerusalem with
far greater pageantry. Elijah was taken up from earth
in a fiery chariot, but Mary was taken up to Heaven
by hosts of angels, and her approach awoke wonder
and admiration among the inhabitants of Heaven. Just
as at her soul's ascension the people of God had sung, in
the words of the Song of Solomon, of her who went up
from the desert, so now they could with still better
reason apply the terms of the old poem to the Mother
of God. 85 For Mary's body was the vessel, in which the
Holy Ghost made the incense, which the High Priest
Christ offered upon the altar of the Cross to His Father.
By carrying this incense within her, the Virgin had her-
self become sweet and fragrant in her beauty. 86 There-
fore she arose from the grave like " a pillar of smoke,
perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all
powders of the merchant" (Song of Solomon iii. 6).
Sung of and glorified in the same similes that were
used in praise of the Jewish bride, Mary was borne
as a queen up through the circles of Heaven unto her
430 THE SACKED SHBINE CHAP.
Son's kingly throne. 37 The nine angel-choirs welcomed
her with chants of praise, the thrones and principalities
glorified her, the saints came to meet her worshipping
her, the Trinity was rejoiced to receive her, 38 and the Son
opened to her a new home in return for that which she
had offered to Him at the Incarnation. 39
The legend of the Assumption, as has already been
mentioned, gives rise to numerous pictures. Most
artists have elected to treat the moment when the
holy body ascends into the air, or that when Mary is
received by the heavenly hosts ; but the events enacted
on the earth below have also, though less frequently,
been illustrated in painting and sculpture. Thus the
attack of the Jews on the funeral procession has been
portrayed, and in doing so artists have not omitted
to show two hands hanging loose by the bier. 40 The
burial, which in Greek art was made the subject
of many compositions, has seldom been noticed by
the Western painters, though Taddeo di Bartolo
devoted one of his frescoes at Siena to the moment
when the Saviour leans down from Heaven to lift
up His mother's reanimated body from the grave.
On the other hand, the grave itself, with the Apostles
surrounding it, has often been represented in pictures
of the Assumption. The Apostles gaze down at the
empty tomb from which, in accordance with a
free interpretation of the old legend, roses and lilies
spring up or up at Mary as she disappears. Wonder
and reverence at the miracle are revealed in their
attitudes. As Eaphael portrayed the holy men in his
picture at the Vatican, devotion is the predominant
feeling among them. It looks as if they tried to listen
to the heavenly music with which the angels in the
upper compartment of the picture accompany the
xx MARY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 431
Virgin's Coronation. In Titian's famous " Assumptio "
at Venice, on the other hand, it is not a mild religions
feeling, but a dramatic, not to say theatrical astonish-
ment, which is expressed by the Apostles' outstretched
hands and violent bodily attitudes.
Into the circle of the Apostles artists have often
introduced a disciple who, according to the legend, was
not present at the actual resurrection. S. Thomas, we
are told, only arrived after the miracle had taken place.
With his well-known lack of faith he hesitates on this
occasion also to allow himself to be persuaded by the other
disciples' account of the miracle ; but the Madonna,
who wished to appease his doubt and perhaps also
mildly to reproach him for his scepticism, gave him a
tangible and indubitable proof of her Ascension, for she
dropped from the clouds her own girdle into Thomas's
hands. This girdle was preserved in Jerusalem after
the Apostle's death, and during the Crusades was stolen
by a girl who fled with her Italian lover to Prato. It
is not part of our subject to tell the tale how the pure
Virgin's girdle during many adventures helped the two
lovers to a happy end of their escapade, but the result
of the story is worthy of note. Out of gratitude the
runaway Crusader deposited his precious relic in the
church of his mother-city, where it is kept in a special
chapel decorated with representations of the legend of
" la sacra cintola." 41 The transference of the girdle to
Prato caused the Madonna's gift to Thomas to become
a subject dear to Italian art. The motive has usually
been united with the motive of the Assumption that
is to say, Mary has been made to drop her girdle to
Thomas during her Ascension ; but it is also probable
that many compositions which pass under the name of
Assumption pictures do not represent the actual Assump-
432 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP.
tion, but that later moment when from her new home
the Madonna sends testimony of her resurrection to the
doubter. Artists have usually treated the legend with
so great a freedom that it is often difficult to determine
which particular situation they meant to illustrate. 42
This indefiniteness appears also in the portrayal of
the chief figure in the compositions. Jacopo Avanzi
makes the Saviour carry His mother's body in His arms,
in the same way that in pictures of the Madonna's death
He lifts the soul-child up to Heaven. 43 In a picture in
the Martin collection at London, ascribed to Giotto, it is
the ascension of the soul, and not of the body, which is
represented in connection with the burial. 44 Ottaviano
Nelli's fresco at Foligno, on the other hand, leaves no
room for misapprehension, for it is here a full-grown
woman, with aged face, who floats up enclosed in the
Saviour's arms.
It is, however, only in exceptional cases that the
Mother and Son make their entry into Heaven together.
In the majority of the pictures of the Assumption the
Madonnas figure is alone. She sits on a throne,
surrounded by an almond-shaped glory, the so-called
" mandorla," which is borne by angels, or she floats in an
erect position towards the clouds. The latter disposi-
tion is distinctive of High Renaissance art ; the former
was employed during the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries. Angels circle around the Virgin singing and
playing, and angels receive her with music into the
highest Heaven. In this manner it was attempted to
render in pictures the gorgeous descriptions of the
Madonna's Assumption given in the legends. Never-
theless, art did not employ all its resources in repre-
senting the actual journey to Heaven. The greatest
effects were reserved for the situation which forms the
xx MABY'S DEATH AND ASSUMPTION 433
culmination of the Madonna's history, and the supreme
glorification of humanity.
When Mary was received by the Trinity, that
promise was fulfilled which the Son had given her when,
in the words of the Song of Solomon, He called her soul
to Himself: "Veni de Libano, sponsa mea, veni de
Libano, veni, coronaberis" (iv. 8). She was conducted,
we are told, by the foremost princes of Heaven to the
throne of the Trinity, where she knelt humbly before
God. The angels brought her a royal robe, and the
seraphs procured the crown of the Eternal Kingdom and
handed it to the Trinity. The Father and the Son
laid the crown upon the Virgin's head and consecrated
her as Queen of Heaven and Earth. The new-crowned
queen was then set upon a divine throne amidst the
joy and wonder of all the hosts of Heaven.
It is in its representations of the Coronation of the
Virgin that art made its most important contribution to
the cult of the Madonna. All that could be achieved in
colouring and gilding, in costly apparel and effective
grouping of masses, has been combined to give splendour
to the great apotheosis, when Mary is worshipped as the
enthroned Queen of Heaven. Jacopo Torriti's mosaic of
the thirteenth century, Fra Angelico's painting in the
Uffizi, and Filippo Lippi's fresco at Spoleto, are the best-
known examples of this kind of ceremonial pictures.
The Madonna sits at her Son's side, or kneels before His
throne, while He presses the crown upon her head, and
angels in full orchestra send up music to the Virgin's
praise. Long golden bassoons, harps, organs, violins,
flutes and cithers accompany the heavenly choirs.
When further, as is the case in Fra Angelico's painting,
the divine figures are outlined against a background of
shining gold, which gleams over the picture like the
434 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP, xx
Northern lights, and throws its strong glare on all the
holy faces, the splendour has reached a culmination
which no work of Church art is able to surpass.
This external luxuriance decreases gradually during
the late Renaissance. In the pictures of the Virgin's
Coronation, as in the representations of all the other
religious motives, it can be seen how the new ideils of
style have lead to a simplification of the composition.
The gorgeous instruments disappear, the dresses become
less showy, and the figures fewer. At the same time it
becomes a more and more common custom to let the
Virgin be crowned, not by the Son alone, but by the
Father and the Son together. 45 These divine figures
dominate the pictures, from which all superfluous
personages and accessories have been removed. Sym-
metry and proportion replace the former richness of
detail. If, however, the works of art thus become poor
in colour and brilliancy, there is no doubt that to the
faithful they are still pregnant with significance. Mary's
Ascension and Coronation must indeed make a deep and
powerful impression on all pious minds. As at the In-
carnation, Earth and Heaven had united, but this time
it was Earth which had ascended to Heaven. In Mary's
body, which was rescued from the dissolution of death,
the whole created and visible world was glorified. All
that was purely human and earthly partook of her
honour. Therefore it is aptly written in Bonaventura's
Psaltare: "Ave praeclara omnibus Angelicis virtuti-
bus Cujus fuit Assumptio Nostra glorificatio." 46
CHAPTER XXI
THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN
Ich sehe dich in tausend Bildern,
Maria, lieblicli ausgedriickt,
Dock keins von alien kann dich schildern,
Wie meine Seele dich erblickt.
NOVALIS, G-eistliche Lieder.
BY following Mary's life from her birth, to her Assump-
tion we can gradually form a certain idea of her being,
but that idea remains incomplete so long as we know
only the narrative forms of art and literature. How-
ever much has been written about the history of the
Madonna, yet this constitutes only the lesser half of
piety's offering to the Mother of God. It is in the
glorification of her person that Mary's worshippers have
brought forth their richest tribute. By poetical epithets
and ingeniously selected symbols, they have sought to
embellish that ideal form so as to make it include in
itself all conceivable beauty. The idea of the Madonna
has hereby been enriched with many qualities which
cannot be visualised in external, tangible works of art,
and which cannot, moreover, appear in all their wealthy
accumulation in the historical accounts of Mary's life.
What has been said concerning the Virgin in the fore-
going chapters, must therefore be supplemented by a
general view of the purely lyrical Madonna-poetry and
the rhetorical panegyrics.
435
436 THE SACBED SHKHsTE CHAR
To avoid repetitions it is best to arrange the similes
and emblems of religious literature in small groups, each
of which answers to some special stage in the relation-
ship of Mary to the Divinity. In making such a division
it is most natural to begin with those expressions of
glorification which refer to the Virgin's youth, i.e. to
those qualities in the Madonna by reason of which she
was singled out among all as an instrument for the
Incarnation.
Purity was, as has already been pointed out, the
dominant characteristic of her who was to be a covering
for the Highest, but the child Mary was not only physi-
cally and spiritually spotless, she was also in all other
respects a model for young virgins. She was warm in
her sympathetic affection, humble, obedient, and sub-
missive, and modest even to timidity. All these inner
qualities were reflected in her outer being and lent her
that grace by which she involuntarily charmed all who
saw her. She was beautiful, for only the fairest could
be God's bride and mother ; but more important than
her beauty was the fact that she possessed the un-
conscious grace of mild humility. Accordingly her
modesty and transparent innocence, together with her
absolute purity, are the qualities which have most often
been expressed in the symbols of the youthful Mary.
To indicate how spotless the Virgin was, she was
compared with the purest things known. She is the
snow which is whiter than snow, " nix nive candidior " ; l
she is the innocent dove which has no gall ; 2 and she
is the mirror, " specula sine macula," which on its clear
surface can reflect the Divinity. 3 The precious stones
that shine with a pure light denote at once her beauty
and her virginity. It has even been attempted to form
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN 437
an analogy between each of her virtues and some special
jewel, and symbolical crowns and diadems have thus
been fashioned for the Madonna. In these " petrified
litanies " the chalcedon shines with a fire correspond-
ing to the love in Mary's heart, the emerald is pure
as she, the sardonyx has the same clear light as her
meekness, the beryl awakes thoughts of her humility,
and the agate recalls her modesty. 4 Thus the virtues
with which as a child she won the hearts of all have
their place in the radiant ornament round the brow of
Heaven's Queen. This is only natural and right, for
Mary at her highest exaltation still preserved all the
modest grace of childhood. Nevertheless, it is not in
precious stones that symbols of the youthful Virgin's
nature were primarily sought for. The diamonds and
jewels belong to the queen ; the girl, on the contrary,
who grew up in humble circumstances, is best denoted
by things less costly. Mary's beauty did not thrust
itself upon the spectator, but concealed itself shyly.
Therefore she is best likened to the flowers of the field,
whose glory of colour is natural, simple, and often
inconspicuous.
It is well known that the Madonna has in many
cases lent her name to herbs and flowers. "Mary's
bedstraw," " Mary's mantle," " Mary's mat," "hands,"
" gloves," " sandals," and many similar plant-names are
found in all modern languages. " Les yeux de Marie"
is one of the many designations of that " Bliimlem
wunderschon" that we call forget-me-not. 5 It is not
only popular imagination that has thus connected the
idea of the Virgin with herbs, which give an impression
of loveliness and purity. The religious poets also, and
even the dogmatic writers, have sought in the world
of flowers for symbols of the Madonna's virtues. The
438 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
beauty of the colours and the scents from earth's
gardens preserved for the pious the memory of the
Virgin's sweetness. 6 She is the flower of flowers, because
she is fairer than any that adorn the ground. There-
fore, also, the queen of flowers, the rose, is her natural
symbol. It represents Mary as Dante saw her in the
Highest Heaven (Paradiso xxiii. 73), but its rich colour
also corresponds to the love she bore in her heart during
her life on earth. 7 Her steadfast piety, which did not
fail even under the severest trials, made her a rose
among thorns, a "rosa inter spinas." 8 The wild rose
had fiirther, it was said, five petals, just as Maria
experienced five great joys, and just as there are five
letters in her dear name. 9
By itself, however, the red rose was insufficient as a
symbol of the Madonna, partly because it corresponded
only to one side of her nature, partly because it was
also used as a likeness of the Saviour and the martyrs. 10
Therefore when the theologians wished to characterise
the Virgin by means of a single image, they compared
her to a rose at once red and white. 11 In such a
flower both her love and her virginity were symbolised.
This fantastic plant, however, has never achieved any
common use in poetry. The simile has been completed
instead by the addition of another symbol which, unlike
the red flower of love, expressed the Madonna's perfect
purity. Mary was not only the rose, but she was at the
same time the lily, which is white, untouched and noble
in its high virginity. 12 The lily, according to old belief,
had the power of healing, and it therefore corresponded
to her who was to give the world a cure for its sins. 18
The lily also had a strong perfume, 14 and according to
the theologians, perfume is related to a flower's glory of
colour in the same way as are a woman's inner virtues
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN 439
to her outer beauty. Further, the lily was a symbol
of fertility as well as of chastity, for which reason, as
has already been pointed out, it had its given place in
pictures of the Annunciation. The stately lily, which
is Gabriel's attribute in these compositions, can, how-
ever, hardly be the same plant that is described in the
Bible poems. It is more probable that the " lily of the
valley," the "lily of Sharon," and the "lily among
the thorns" was a white anemone. 15 Such a flower,
even better than the glorious symbol of the Incarnation,
would give expression to that modesty which is always
emphasised in the youthful Mary.
In this modesty of hers the Virgin was likened to
all the small herbs that hide their crests in the grass.
Mignonette was, according to the pious, one of Mary's
favourite flowers. 16 In Ambrosius's symbolism of plants
the iris signified her solitude, but the daisy her modesty, 17
and in an old French sermon the Madonna's humility
is compared with nard : "for nard is a little low plant
of warm nature, out of which costly ointments are pre-
pared, and hereby is understood Mary's submissiveness,
her love, and her piety. These three things, that were
marvellously united, gave a strong scent that smelt
pleasant to God." 18 The type of all these unpretending
flowers, however, is that harbinger of spring, the violet,
which has so often been celebrated in mediaeval poetry.
Thus we read in S. Bernard : " Maria est viola humili-
tatis, lilium castitatis, rosa caritatis, gloria et decus
coeli" "Mary is the violet of humility, the lily of
chastity, the rose of charity, and the glory and splendour
of the Heavens." 19 The violet does not push itself for-
ward to court attention, but its scent betrays its charms ;
and it was the scent of Mary's humility which drew the
Highest to unite Himself with her.
440 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
Tlie idea of tlie odour of the flower arousing God's
pleasure leads us to a new group of Madonna-symbols,
i.e. to those likenesses and similes which refer to the
Saviour's incarnation in the Virgin's body. As has
already been mentioned, men saw in this mystery a
kind of erotic relationship between the Creator and the
foremost of created beings. Christ wedded the Virgin
just as, according to theologians, He wedded her sym-
bolical counterpart, the Holy Church. Each of these
ideas was based on a theological interpretation of that
cycle of ancient love and marriage chants which is
wrongly named " The Song of Solomon." The heroine
in the Jewish marriage songs was, it was said, not only
a personification of the community of believers, but also
a prefiguring type of the future Mother of God. All
the expressions of erotic ecstasy with which the lover
in the Song of Solomon celebrated the beauty of his
beloved could, therefore, be applied to the Virgin.
Indeed, we find that as early as the first centuries the
Church Fathers in their panegyrics of the Madonna
employed the imagery of Solomon's Song ; 20 and during
the Middle Ages proper it was the influence of the
Biblical love -songs which, more than anything else,
gave its character to the Mary -poetry. 21 Chivalry
and the Cult of Love had led men to invoke the
heavenly woman with something of the same worship
they accorded to the lady of their heart. Therefore
from all the symbols of the Madonna they selected by
preference those in which Mary was characterised, not
as an ascetic virgin or a sublime Mother of God, but
as a young bride.
In the hymns of the Church and of secular bards,
the Old Testament model was so faithfully followed that
the heavenly bride was even allowed to borrow some of
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIEGEtsr 441
the epithets that were quite individually distinctive
of " Solomon's" beloved. The youthful Shulamite had
felt humiliated when she saw the pale faces of the town
girls and compared it with her own dark complexion.
Therefore she sings (i. 5): "I am black, but comely,
ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as
the curtains of Solomon. Look not upon me, because
1 am black, because the sun hath looked upon me."
This half -apologetic characteristic, " Nigra sum, sed
formosa," is perpetually met with in the literature of
the Madonna. It has probably even contributed in
its degree to the custom of representing the Virgin as
a black-haired and dark-complexioned woman. Since
the oldest pictures of Mary had in many cases been
darkened by age and layers of smoke, it is just these
"black Madonnas" which have, with reference to the
Song of Solomon, been taken as faithful portraits of
the Mother of God. Some authors have even ventured
to find a reason for the dark colour, so often insisted
upon in poems and pictures. During her residence in
Egypt, they say, the Virgin had been burnt by the sun
in the same way as the Shulamite, when she guarded
her brother's vineyards out in the fields. 22
When so personal a characteristic, as her dark com-
plexion, was transferred from the Old Testament bride
to the Virgin Mary, it is only natural that the Madonna
shared in all the glorifying epithets with which the Song
of Solomon literally overflows. Of the Virgin, therefore,
as of her prototype, it is sung that she was " a flower in
Sharon and a lily in the valley," and a " rose among the
thorns." She became a pigeon of the rocks, whose face
peeped out from among the mountain clefts. Her walk
over the mountains to her kinswoman Elizabeth was
described, as has been mentioned in an earlier chapter,
442 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
in the same words that are used in the Song of Solo-
mon to describe the lover's hastening to his beloved :
" Behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping
upon the hills. My beloved is like a roe or a young
hart " (ii 8-9). When the Son-Bridegroom called Mary's
soul to Himself, He drew her with the words from the
ancient morning song, the inspiration of which is echoed
in numberless modern aubades, from Ronsard's " Marie,
levez-vous," to the Swedish "Upp Amaryllis" "Rise
up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the
winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the flowers
appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of birds is
come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ;
the fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines
with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my
love, my fair one, and come away. my dove, that
art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the
stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice ;
for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely "
(ii. 10-14). When Mary's body ascended to Heaven she
was welcomed by angels with those verses in which the
old folk-bards sang of the approach of the bride, when
she was brought to her bridegroom in solemn procession,
surrounded by warriors like Solomon on his chariot, and
preceded by men carrying smoking pans on high stangs. 23
" Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like
pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense ?
(iii 6). And when the angels saw her enclosed in her
Son's arms, they repeated the words in the last chant of
the Song of Solomon : " Who is this that cometh up
from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?" (viii. 5).
Mary was the " bride from Lebanon," who was called up
from the earth to be crowned in Heaven (iv. 8). She
was " all fair," and there was " no spot " in her (iv. 7) :
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN 443
"Tota pulckra es, arnica mea, et macula non est in te."
To lier could be applied, better than to any other
created being, the daring metaphors used by the lover
in the Song of Solomon to describe his beloved's
mighty and compelling beauty (vi. 10) : " Who is she
that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon,
clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners ? "
" Quae est ista quae progreditur quasi aurora consurgens,
pulchra ut luna, electa ut sol, terribilis ut castrorum acies
ordinata ? "
The majority of the similes in the Song of Solomon
are so indefinite in character that they could not be
used to express anything except the Virgin's insurpass-
able charm, but there are certain of these similes
into which a deeper reference to Mary's qualities could
be read. Thus, " terrible as an army with banners"
not only signified that Mary was invincible in her
loveliness, but the comparison aroused also thoughts
of that eternal war existing between "the woman"
and " the serpent " ; and this poetical phrase has un-
doubtedly had its share in making the Virgin a
" Madonna of the Victories." " The morning," again,
was an image which symbolised Mary's relation-
ship to the Divinity ; for if Christ, in accordance with
His time-honoured title, was "the world's true sun
and day," His mother was the morning twilight that
announced the sun's rising. "Mary," says Birgitta,
"may rightly be called the break of day, which
the true sun Jesus Christ lighted," because "she
called and led forth the Son's sun." 24
A still closer association with the dogmatic view
of the Madonna could be brought about by means of
the attributes which occur in the fourth chapter of the
Song of Solomon. In this portion of his song-cycle,
444 THE SACEEB SHKINE CHAP.
the poet praises the beauty of Ms beloved in a suc-
cession of bold similes, which are to our taste rather
far-fetched, but which to Orientals undoubtedly appear
poetical and apposite. First he glorifies her eyes
"thou hast dove's eyes within thy locks" and her
hair, which is " as a flock of goats that appear from
Mount Gilead." Then he sings of her white and
flawless teeth, which "are like a flock of sheep . . .
which come up from the washing " ; of her red lips
and blushing cheeks. Then he turns his gaze to her
neck, which rises high and straight from her body, and
which is probably in oriental fashion adorned with
great hanging metal ornaments, and when he sees
how these ornaments outline themselves against the
dark skin, he finds a comparison as apposite as
it is effective: " Thy neck is like the tower of
David buMed for an armoury, whereon there hang a
thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men." The
same simile is introduced anew in another part of the
song-cycle (vii. 1-9), which was probably sung at a
country wedding while the bride danced before the
guests. During the dance the singer so the commen-
tators tell us points out her beauty to the spectators.
He advises the bride to turn round, so that they may
see her from different sides ; he praises the beauty of her
feet with shoes, her loins, her body, and finally her
face : " Thy neck is as a tower of ivory ; thine eyes
like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-
rabbim ; thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon which
looketh toward Damascus."
The tower which is thus quoted time after time in
glorifying the Shulamite's beauty has received no less
prominent a place in the poetry of the Madonna. 25
Not only is it employed in the poets' songs to Mary, but
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN" 445
it has even won a place in the official Church services.
In the so-called Lauretan litany we find in the summary
of the Virgin's epithets those well-known attributes
Turris Davidica and Turris eburnea. Here, however,
the similes do not serve to arouse any idea of external
beauty ; they do not recall the lofty rising of Mary's
neck, but her 'religious rank and her moral deserts.
" Turris Davidica " is translated in French Psalm-books
by "G-loire de la maison de David," and "Turris
eburnea " is rendered quite freely by "Module de
puretd" 26 It is easily understood that the tower,
which is the highest part of a building, should be
compared with Mary, in whose person the house of
David culminated all the more so, because the idea
of a house can in this case be interpreted not only in
an architectural, but also in a genealogical meaning.
However, it is only one side of the symbolism which
appears in Mary's " gloire," i.e. in her splendour. The
Virgin is a "turris" also, because the tower is more
inaccessible than any other kind of building. Just as
in Mass-symbolism the tower was an image of impreg-
nable power, so in Madonna-symbolism it was an image
of inviolable purity. Thus chastity was allegorically
represented under the image of a woman enclosed in
a tower. 27 Further, when probably with reference
to some definite building in ancient Jerusalem the
tower was said to be built of ivory, its inaccessible
purity is still more emphasised. The thought of a
pre-eminent and spotless isolation has its classical
expression in the litany's " Tour d'ivoire," which words,
as is well known, have served as a motto not only in
religious, but also in romantic and aesthetic literature.
Again, the tower is also something besides a "model
of purity." It can be used as a "pars pro toto" to
446 THE SACBED SHKINE CHAP.
signify a whole fortress. In this sense, Mary, like the
eucharistic tabernacle, is " a tower of David made with
bastions/' in which the faithful can take refuge from
the attacks of the devil ; and from the sides of the
tower the worshippers of the Madonna can, in accord-
ance with the simile of the Song of Solomon, seize
" bucklers and all kinds of weapons of strong men " as
a defence against Hell. 28 Thus even the ornaments
on the Jewish bride's neck have gained an importance
in theological symbolism.
In the wedding chants of oriental peoples, however,
it is not only the beauty of the bride that is sung.
She is also glorified as the untouched maiden, whose
love no one has yet enjoyed, and whose virginity is
preserved for her husband. The bridegroom in the
Song of Solomon also praises his Shulamite in this
respect with some poetical metaphors, the erotic, not
to say phallic, implication of which it is easy to grasp ;
and the bride on her side invites him, using the same
similes, to take possession of the treasures reserved for
him alone. He likens her physical virginity to closed
and well-protected things : " A garden inclosed is my
sister, my spouse," he sings ; " a spring shut up, a
fountain sealed " (iv. 12). Her being is to him like a
grove of " pomegranates, with pleasant fruits ; camphire,
with spikenard; spikenard and saffron; calamus and
cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and
aloes, with all the chief spices" (iv. 13). "She is a
fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams
from Lebanon," but he is for the bride a wind that
streams in to the closed pleasure-garden (iv. 16): " Awake,
north wind ; and come, thou south ; blow upon my
garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my be-
loved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits."
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE YIEGIN 447
This erotic antiplion has, of course, like all the
other parts of the ancient poem, been interpreted by
theologians in an allegorical and moral sense. The
frank similes of the bride's chastity, which was to be
guarded for her husband, have been transformed into
symbols of the chastity of ascetic virgins, which was
never to be broken ; and it cannot be gainsaid that,
taken by themselves, the metaphors of the Song of
Solomon are well fitted for such an application. It
is perfectly apposite when Ambrosius, in his treatise
on the education of virgins, reminds his female readers of
the sealed spring : " Let no one trouble its waters, and
no one disturb them, so that thou mayest see thine
own picture clearly mirrored in the well." 29 And the
moral interpretation is well carried out in Ambrosius's
comment on the verse : " Hortus conclusus, soror mea
sponsa, hortus conclusus, fons signatus." " Only in
gardens," he says, "upon which, by such a sealing,
God's image has been impressed, can the well-spring
of the heart shine forth in pure waves." " There
virtue is fenced round with the lofty hedge of spiritual
walls, and hides itself from all robbers. Even as a
garden enclosed against thieves is green with vines,
smells of olives and shines with roses, so in the garden
of holy virginity there grow, smell, and shine the vines
of piety, the olives of peace and the red roses of
chastity." 80
All that could be said about pious virgins generally
was applicable in a higher degree to her who was the
model for all virgins, and in this respect also the similes
of the Song of Solomon were peculiarly applicable
to Mary. She was, says Hesychius, the fountain of
"the river of life which has filled all the earth." 01
Water is a symbol of grace, and Mary was " full of
448 THE SACKED SHRIKE CHAP.
grace." The garden, again, was an image of her being,
in which the virtues of love, chastity, and humility
shone and smelt like flowers in a field, and the
perfumes from this garden were spread over all the
world when the south wind blew over it and ripened
the fruits of the vine. 32 But "the vine" is He who
feeds His community with His own blood under the
form of the vine. Therefore the love-song of the Song
of Solomon was a prophecy of the Divine Incarnation
in the Virgin's womb.
As applied to this miracle, however, the similes of
the sealed fountain and the enclosed garden obtained a
purely literal meaning. In their boldly gynaecological
speculations concerning Mary's threefold virginity the
dogmatists could refer advantageously to the Song of
Solomon. If Ambrosius transferred the symbolism
to a spiritual sphere in his treatises on virginity, yet
that symbolism was understood by others of the Church
Fathers in as physical (although ascetically anti-erotic) a
sense as in the ancient wedding-chants. The fountain and
the garden became images of Mary's virgin womb, which
was closed both before, during, and after the miraculous
birth. 33 All that was told of the riches of the pleasure-
garden in the Song of Solomon was, it was said, matched
by the pure and holy bosom of the Madonna. The
allegorical poets of the Middle Ages strove to work
out this analogy even in the smallest details, and, in
doing so, probably carried their ingenuity further than
strict theology would approve of ; 34 but even the lead-
ing dogmatists expressed themselves in this respect with
an unreserve which to the taste of our time appears much
too naturalistic. " Hortus deliciarum," says S. Bernard,
" nobis est sacratissimus tuus uterus, Maria ; quia ex
eo multiplices gaudii flores colligimus, quoties mente
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE YIEGIN 449
recolimus, quam magna multitudo dulcedinis toti orbi
inde affulsit " " A pleasure-garden for us is thy most
holy womb, Mary, from which we can pluck manifold
flowers of joy every time we think of what wealth of
sweetness has thence streamed forth over the world." 35
As tokens of her absolute virginity the garden and
the well have been two of the most popular of all the
images of Mary, but men have not been content with
these similes in visualising the miraculous element in
her motherhood. Mary is not only a " hortus inclusus "
and a " fons signatus/' but she is also a " porta clausa."
It has already been mentioned that, ever since the time
of Ambrosius, people had seen in Ezekiel's closed gate,
which no one save Israel's God could pass through and
which would remain closed after He had passed, a prophecy
of the Madonna's body, which retained its " closed "
virginity both during and after the Divinity's birth. 36
"Porta clausa" thus has the same symbolic meaning
as "the sealed fountain" and "the enclosed garden."
Like these attributes, however, the images were used in
a derived sense to indicate the whole of Mary's being.
On the basis of a similar widening of ideas, Mary
has also been characterised as a " Vellus Gedeonis."
Gideon's fleece, which, as already mentioned, prefigured
the miraculous Incarnation, has won its place in
the list of the Virgin's attributes, and as this fleece
was moistened by the dew of Heaven, the dew also was
regarded as an emblem of Mary. Another Old Testa-
ment legend which afforded matter for Mary-poetry is
that of Aaron's blossoming staff (Numbers xvii 5).
The miracle by which Moses' brother was selected as
High Priest had indeed been the model for the token,
by reason of which Joseph became Mary's husband;
and the staff, which blossomed through a miracle, corre-
450 THE SACRED SHRIKE CHAP.
sponded to her who was fertilised through a miracle.
Mary is therefore Aaron's blossoming staff, and she is
" a branch out of the root of Jesse," which, according to
Isaiah's prophecy (xi. 1), was to give forth fruit to
Israel. 37 Further, she is not only a green and blossoming
bough, she is also a bush. For since, without losing
her virginity, she conceived and bore a child in her
womb, she was like that bush in the Old Testament
which burned without being consumed. God had
descended to her and made her a guiding sign during
the wandering in the desert. 38 Therefore the " rubus
ardens non combustus," the burning bush, is an attri-
bute of the Madonna which has often been portrayed in
art, 89 and which poetry too has not omitted to mention.
There are, as it appears, a variegated quantity of
symbols of the Divine Incarnation, but this multitude
is nevertheless far surpassed by the number of similes
which refer to that period of the Virgin's life when
God had His abode in her body. It was, indeed, a
natural consequence of the dogmatic point of view
that Mary should be glorified before all as the bearer
of the Highest. It was in this character that she
first became an object of veneration to the faithful.
Ambrosius has said emphatically that she was not
herself "a God in the temple," but "a temple for
God." 40 All that perfect purity and holiness which dis-
tinguished her even from her conception in Anna's
womb, was only a preparation for that supernatural
beauty with which she shone when she carried the
Divinity in her body. His presence radiated from her
being and made her a heavenly vessel Therefore the
Madonna was glorified as the most perfect of all sacred
shrines.
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN 451
In this praising of Mary's motherhood the same
concrete and naturalistic terminology was used as in the
lauding of her perfect virginity. In imagination, it must
be supposed, poets and preachers saw her entire person
before them, with all its spiritual and physical char-
acteristics ; but the similes they chose to express their
homage referred only to the physical shrine, and the idea
was taken in its most limited connotation. Just as
the emblems of chastity referred to the miracle of
Mary's womb remaining closed at the Incarnation and
Birth, so the symbols of her motherhood referred to
another miraculous quality of the Yirgin : her body
was not only a room which, without opening, could let
God go out and in, it was also a " receptaculum capa-
cissimum " which enclosed the greatest of all conceivable
contents. For the child that was conceived in Mary's
womb was the very God of whom it was said (1 Kings
viii. 27) that "the heaven and the heaven of heavens
cannot contain thee."
The contrast between the Virgin's body and the
infinite greatness of God was just such an one as could
be used advantageously by theological orators in their
casuistical rhetoric. When the doctrine of Mary as
the Mother of God had to be defended against the
Nestorian heresy, it was asserted in a defiant paradox
that " He, who could not be embraced by the Heavens,
did not find Mary's womb too narrow." Proclus,
Theodetus, Methodius, Zeno of Verona, and Augustine
expressed in similar formulae the same effective anti-
thesis. 41 From sermons and dogmatic treatises the
literary motive spread to religious hymns. Bphraim
Syrus clothed it in stately guise when in one of his
Songs of Mary he cried out : " Heaven and Earth were
too narrow to enclose, as with two wings, their God.
452 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
But Mary's womb was wider than Heaven and Earth, and
greater than the world." 42 The sequence of Bernardus
Morlanensis gave, in quick and lively rhythm, to the
doctrine of the great mystery the additional point of a
play upon words :
felicem
Genitricem
Cujus sacra viscera
Meruere
Continere
Continentem omnia. 43
In Latin poetry the idea of the Virgin's womb
having enclosed Him, "quern totus orbis non capit,"
became a commonplace which was unceasingly repeated
by the poets of the Madonna, without however gain-
ing any new character by the small variations in
expression ; 44 but the dogmatic paradox won a poetical
and naive formulation when it was paraphrased in
modern languages. Not much of Ephraim's ponderous-
ness remains in Lionardo Giustiniani's canzone :
o vaso picciolino, in cui si posa
Colui, che il Ciel non piglia, 45
and in Heinrich von Loufenberg's song the antithesis
has entirely lost its imposing import :
Quern totus orbis nit begreif,
Hat sich in deines ventris reif
Gar zartlich occultieret. 46
It was, as has been said, from a passage in the Book
of Kings that the expression as to the heavens being
too narrow for God's greatness was drawn. By these
words, it was said, Solomon had expressed at the dedica-
tion of the Temple at Jerusalem the vainness of build-
ing a dwelling-place for the Highest. 47 By a similar
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN 453
reasoning the author of the Acts of the Apostles showed
that God, who is the Lord of Heaven and Earth, does
not dwell in temples built by human hands. 48 Yet at
the Incarnation the Eternal had compressed His being
in order to dwell in a virgin's body. Mary's womb was,
therefore, the temple not built with hands, which ful-
filled the function which Solomon's great work could
not fulfil.
In the expositions of the dogmatists, as has been
mentioned earlier, Mary had already been compared to
a temple. This analogy was so consistently maintained
that in theological discussions the one idea was inter-
changeable with the other. When Hieronymus directed
his accusations against Helvidius, who had dared to
assert that Jesus had had brothers and sisters in the
flesh, he charged him with having in heretical fury put
into practice a Herostratic deed. " Thou hast followed,"
said he, " the example of that madman, who, to make
himself famous, set on fire the temple of Diana, Thou
hast sought to burn up the temple of God, and hast
defiled the sanctuary of the Holy Ghost, since thou
hast let two brothers and a number of sisters be born
of the Virgin." 49
Thus, just as it was a heathenish deed to deny
Mary's absolute purity, so it was a pious duty to empha-
sise all her virtues. The Virgin's qualities were the
materials out of which a temple was built, and for such
a building no objects could be too costly. Here we come
to another point of comparison between the Madonna
and the most famous building in the Old Testament.
Mary, says Birgitta, was the new " Solomon's temple "
erected by Him of whom the Jewish king was a proto-
type. The temple's gold was her virtue, and her
humility was the ivory that covered its walls. So
454 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
sliining and costly was the house in which, as Birgitta
expresses it, the true Solomon " walked and rested." 50
The symbolism of a temple was naturally often used
also in religious hymns, and it received a quite special
importance in prayers to Mary. For the Catholic
temple, by reason of the doctrine of the Sacramental
Incarnation, was not only a " House of God," but it
was also an asylum in which men could always feel safe
from persecution. Just as the pious could get from
" the tower Mary " " shields and all kinds of weapons of
mighty men " to defend themselves against the attack
of the devil, so in " the temple Mary " they could take
refuge from all his onslaughts. " Ave templum sanctum
Dei/ 7 men invoked her, and continued, " ad quod
currunt omnes rei ut ab hoste liberentur a quo capti
detinentur " : 51 " Hail, holy temple of God to whom all
sinners hasten to be freed from the enemy who holds
them captive."
God's dwelling-place was not necessarily conceived
of as a temple, however. The Saviour was also a king,
and His mother's womb was therefore a kingly castle.
" Aula regalis " Mary is often called in the Latin hymns.
She was a " splendidum palatium," " a shining palace
for the Lord of Eternity/' and she was the wedding
chamber, where the Creator united Himself with His
Creation. 52 But the Madonna could also be likened to
far less impressive pieces of architecture. She was the
tent of the Covenant into which God had entered to
carry out the work of the Atonement, and she was the
Holy Tabernacle that was " filled with the glory of the
Lord." 5S Further, if the faithful recollected that it was
only for a time that the Highest dwelt in her body,
they were led to another group of similes. It was with
her that He stayed when He began His residence on earth.
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE YIEGIN 455
Therefore Mary was a lodging-house, and, as such, the
foremost of her kind. " For," says Dante, "it was
fitting that the lodging where the King of Heaven
stayed should be perfectly blameless and pure." 54 If
one regards this comparison as too ordinary, one is
still more astonished to find Mary characterised as
a " guardarobba." To Catholic symbolism, however,
there is nothing extravagant in calling the Virgin's
womb a wardrobe. 55 It was, we are told, in this room
that the Godhead clothed Himself in the dress of the
human shape, to go forth into the world like an earthly
being. By an inversion of the analogy, the cloak-room
in the church, where the priest puts on his raiment for
Mass, to celebrate in the Saviour's stead the renewed
sacrifice, is compared to Mary's womb ; 56 and Mary in
her turn is called, by the name of the holiest of ward-
robes, a sacristy for the Trinity. 57 Often, too, the
indefinite idea of a " room for God," "camera trinitatis,"
was employed, 58 and " domus," which applies to all
the different kinds of buildings, is one of the most
frequent epithets used in praise of the Madonna. In
poems of a simpler style the Virgin's body is quite
commonly named " the little house," in which the
Great One dwelt in the form of a child. It is in
this way that an anonymous fifteenth-century bard ex-
presses himself in a song which forms a naive contrast
to Birgitta's stately description of the model where the
true Solomon " walked and rested" :
Ich weisz em hiibsclies Hauselein
Da lauft ein Kindlein aus und ein.
Es mag wohl Jesus Christus sein,
Maria 1st das Hauselein, 59
From this class of symbols betokening different kinds
of dwelling-places, it is most natural to pass on to some
456 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
smaller constructions which have been compared to
the Virgin. When the new Solomon left his heavenly
throne in order, as Zeno of Verona expresses it, to " enter
the Virgin temple's sanctuary, and to rest satisfied in
the flowering abode of chastity " 60 Mary became his
royal seat. " Sedes Salomonis " is therefore one of the
Madonna's standing attributes. 61 It was all the easier to
use this name, since Solomon's splendid bed and " chariot "
are described in the Song of Solomon (iii. 7-10), from
which so many of the symbols of the Madonna are drawn.
Mary was literally a throne when she held her Divine
Son on her knee, and she was a "chariot" in which
He let Himself be borne to suffering mankind ; for the
Divine Incarnation was often conceived of as a journey,
in which His mother was the means of conveyance.
In accordance with this view Mary was further charac-
terised as a shining and heavenly carriage. Ephrairn
Syrus, who, even when he describes the little Child,
emphasises the flaming majesty of the Godhead, com-
pares Mary to Ezekiel's burning carriage, " which shook
under the glory of the Lord, while the Virgin's weak
knees bore Him without being consumed." G2 In later
poets, e.g. in Dante, the prophet's vision has been
applied to the Christian Church. 63 But Mary is often
spoken of also as " the most worthy chariot in which the
King of Honour was pleased to visit sick and languish-
ing mankind/' In Nigils Ragvaldi's old Swedish in-
terpretation of this originally Latin text, the Virgin,
with a Northern local colouring, even bears the name of
u sledge." C4 It may be added, to account further for
the symbolism of the chariot, that Mary is a carriage
in which her adherents can ascend to Heaven. 65
Of all means of conveyance, however, none is better
suited to be compared to the Madonna than a ship
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN 457
which brings Its gifts from far lands. Ephraim Syrus
likens Mary to the vessel carrying a luck -bringing
cargo. 66 This simile was all the easier to find, inas-
much as in its panegyric of the virtuous wife who is
more precious than the costliest pearls the Book of
Proverbs makes use of the expression : " She is like the
merchants' ships ; she bringeth her food from afar "
(xxxi. 14). In the Latin translation of this passage the
term food is rendered by panis, a word which naturally
calls to mind " the bread of life," the cargo of the
vessel Mary. Thus the analogy could be carried through
even in small details. 67 The allegorising imagination
found an attractive task in seeking among Mary's char-
acteristics the moral counterparts of the mast, the anchor,
the planks, and the sails. Such a symbolical ship as
described, for example, in an old French serventois 68
was, however, both nautically and poetically, a very
artificial thing. On the other hand, there is nothing
unnatural or strained in that German folk-song which
poetically develops Ephraim Syrus's ancient simile :
Es kommt em SeMff geladen
Eeclit auf sein toclistes Port 69
If Mary could once be likened to a ship in general,
it was all the more fitting to see a correspondence to
her in those craft which had won fame in Biblical history.
Moses was a prototype of her Son ; therefore she herself,
it was said, had been prefigured by the chest, in which
Moses had lain out on the water. 70 But a worthier
symbol of the Madonna was that ancestor of all vessels,
the Ark, in which Noah saved creation from the
Flood. When Mary was created, a new Noah's Ark
was formed for the salvation of the world ; 71 and when
she received the Annunciation, then not all animals,
458 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP.
but the Lord of all animals and of mankind entered
into the house of salvation. 72 The old Ark knew that
its work would be repeated and surpassed, for on the
night when Mary gave birth to her Child the planks of
Noah's vessel sent out fresh shoots, where they lay on
Mount Ararat. 73 There was, it appears, a telepathic
sympathy between the. two Arks which corresponded
with one another in so many respects. Every physical
quality in Noah's building had its counterpart in some
mental quality in Mary. We have only to read how
Birgitta expounds the likenesses and points of difference
between these two ships. Noah was pleased because his
Ark was so well tarred both without and within that
nothing unclean could enter it, and God was pleased
because Mary was so well suffused with the unction of
the Holy Spirit that no earthly desire could approach
her heart. Noah was pleased because his Ark was so
spacious and large that all creatures could be housed in
it, while God was pleased because He whose greatness
is inconceivable could " lie and turn " in Mary's blessed
womb. Noah's Ark was light, just as Mary's virginity
was clear and pure. In addition to these and other
analogies, however, there was an essential difference.
Noah knew that his Ark would be empty when he left
it, and that he would never again have anything to
do with his temporary dwelling-place; but God knew
that, even after His birth, His mother would remain
filled with the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and that, even
though He were separated from her body at His birth,
she would be close to Him for all time. 74
This last difference refers, of course, to Mary's
Assumption. As has been explained, it was just be-
cause the Madonna had been an Ark for the Divinity,
that her body might not remain on the earth ; but it
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIEGIK 459
was not Noah's Ark that was referred to in the legend
of the Virgin's Ascension. The miracles that took place
at the bier of her dead body were borrowed from the
stories of the Ark par excellence, the Old Testament
Ark of the Covenant. The palladium of the Jewish
nation was the type which best corresponded to her in
whose person the new covenant between God and the
entire human race had been sealed. In the Ark Moses
had enclosed the most precious tokens of the Highest's
care for His people : Aaron's flowering staff, a golden
vessel with manna, and the two Tables of the Law.
The staff was in itself a symbol of the Incarnation ; the
golden vessel, " urna aurea," with its heaven-sent con-
tents, 75 was a natural image of the Virgin, in whose
body God had descended from Heaven ; and the Tables
of Stone, which represented the summing-up of all
necessary knowledge, corresponded to Him in whose life
and teaching the law had been fulfilled. The Ark
itself, again, was surrounded everywhere by a rich gild-
ing, which betokened the perfect sanctity of Mary's being.
Therefore, as early as in one of the famous sermons on
the Madonna by Proclus, the Virgin had been called an
Ark gilded both within and without. 76 The epithet has
played an important part both in religious and secular
poetry, 77 and it still survives in the words of endearment
of the Swedish love-song which would be unintelligible
if one did not know the symbolism of Mary " Thou
noble rose and gilded shrine."
Among the Jewish ritual - implements there are
others also which were chosen as symbols of Mary. The
censer hanging in front of the Ark of the Covenant
prefigured her being, which was perfumed with virtue
and which took into itself the living fire. The thought
that the Virgin bore coals in her womb without being
460 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
consumed had been lovingly developed by Ephraim
Syrus in his hymns ; 78 and the analogy between the
Madonna and the censer, as was pointed out in the
foregoing chapter, was applied to the stories of how
Mary like a cloud of incense went up through Heaven
to the Son's throne. Thus, all the objects kept in
the Holy of holies were associated with the Holiest
of mankind. Moreover, in front of the veil there
stood, in the outer tabernacle, other images of the pure
Virgin. Mary was the candelabrum that supported on
its seven golden arms the heavenly light, 79 and she was
the Table on which the Shewbread was exposed to
view. 80 And as Bread, the type of food, was a symbol
of the Saviour, so His mother was logically betokened
by all the articles of furniture which supported or en-
closed that holy substance. This reasoning had, of
course, a still greater applicability in the case of the
implements of Christian ritual. If the Madonna was
the table in the tabernacle, she was likened with still
better reason to the altar-table on which the Eucharistic
God rested in the form of bread ; and if she was the
golden manna-urn, she was also the shrine for the
Host ; the tower, the dove, or the tabernacle that pre-
served the transformed wafers.
All these epithets denote worthy store-rooms for
holy contents, and they are therefore well suited for
use in pious poems. On the other hand, we cannot
from a purely aesthetic standpoint consider the theo-
logians quite happy in comparing the Madonna's body
to a wine-cellar, " cella vinaria/' even though we may
understand how naturally the Mass-symbolism led to
this image. 81 It is also more ingenious than effective
to call the pure Virgin a library, in which all the books
of the Old and New Testaments have been set up. 82
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIBGIN 461
In better style is the simile of the box of sweet per-
fumes, which often appears in the poetry of Mary.
The Madonna, we read, is a treasury in which the
most costly spices and salves mingle their scents, as
the noble trees mix their fruits in the enclosed garden
of the Song of Solomon. Thus Adam de S. Victor
sings in praise of the Virgin :
Porta clausa, fons hortorum,
Cella custos unguentorum,
Cella pigmentaria.
Cinnamon! calamum,
Myrrhanij thus et balsamum
Superas fragrantia. 83
Such a list is as poetic in its import as it is firm and
rhythmical in its metrical structure, but the fine original
loses a good deal of its effect upon us when an anony-
mous German translator, instead of " cella pigmentaria,"
introduces the name of that room for the blending of
rich scents, which is called an Apothecary's shop :
Port beslozzen, gartes brunne,
Apothek mit lobes wunne,
Und ein cell mit lutertranc,
Cumin, balsam und eitewar,
Mirr, wirouch, aster rotvar
jFurtriffst du und rosen blana 84
The majority of the similes described in the pre-
ceding pages have referred to things which have been
made by men, or which have, at any rate, received their
peculiar shape through human intervention. All the
different chests and arks, vessels and buildings, are
artefacts, and so, too, in their way, are the sealed
springs and the enclosed pleasure-gardens. They are
each the foremost of their kind, and therefore worthy
of comparison with the foremost of God's creations ; but
they are, nevertheless, in their idea less than that which
462 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
is compared to them, and they can therefore illustrate
only certain special qualities purity, beauty, or grace
in the Virgin. If it was desired to express the sub-
limity of the Mother of God, the symbols ought not
to be chosen from among the second-hand products of
human manufacture. Only the sights of nature were
great enough to be likened to her, whose being was
raised above all human measure; and as a matter of
fact we find many notable epithets of Mary which
fall within the sphere of that original creation, which is
untouched by human hand. The Madonna is not only
a garden, but she is also, in her miraculous mother-
hood, the unploughed field which gives seed without
having been cultivated. 85 She is not only a "hortus
inclusus," but she is also we have only to read the
beautiful descriptions in Gautier de Coincy and Gonzalo
da Berc^o the free meadow full of wild flowers. 86
Further, she is that which constitutes the greatest and
most sublime portion of a wild landscape, for as the
Mother of God she is compared to the lofty mountain.
It has already been mentioned, in treating of Mary's
history, that an analogy was established between the rock
which enclosed the dead God-man and the Virgin who
carried Him in her womb. Another analogy between
the mountain and the Madonna was based on the fact
that the Saviour was born of His mother without pain
and without the assistance of midwives. In an old
Christmas hymn, ascribed to Ambrosius, the new-born
Child is addressed with these epithets among others :
Lapis de monte veniens
Mundumque replens gratia
Quern non praecisum manibus
Vates vetusti nuntiant. 87
" A stone which, according to the prophecy of the old
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN 463
seers, comes down from the mountain without having
been loosened by the hands of men, and fills the world
with blessing."
The old prognostication, to which the hymn refers,
is Daniel's narrative of the colossus on clay feet which
Nebuchadnezzar saw in his vision. " Thou sawest till
that a stone was cut out without hands, which smote the
image upon his feet that were of iron and clay, and brake
them to pieces. Then was the iron, the clay, the brass,
the silver and the gold, broken to pieces together, and
became like the chaff of the summer threshing-floors ; and
the wind carried them away, that no place was found for
them : and the stone that smote the image became a great
mountain, and filled the whole earth " (Daniel ii. 34-35).
It was natural for the oppressed Jews to see in
Daniel's prophecy a promise of the restoration of their
own power through the national Messiah. To the
Christians persecuted in the first centuries the same
prophecy gave a hope of better times for their com-
munity ; and when the Church had been established
and had conquered heathendom, the promise seemed to
have been fulfilled. The stone which struck the image
o
had become a great mountain that filled the whole
world. Thus, when "the conquering Galilean" gave
a meaning to that part of the simile in which the fall
of the colossus was spoken of, people began to look for
something corresponding to the assertion that the stone
" was loosened without hands " from the mountain. That
supernatural fact was placed in connection with the super-
natural manner in which the Saviour had appeared in the
world. The little stone that grew and grew until it filled
the earth, was like a little child which matures into a giant ;
and the mountain, from the bosom of which the stone
spontaneously loosens itself, was the child's mother.
464 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAR
Such, an interpretation was all the more natural,
because, from another point of view also, the mountain
could be explained as a symbol of the Virgin Mary. In
his Commentary on the Books of Kings, Gregory I. says
of the place in which Mount Ephraim is spoken of : " By
this name can the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God, also
be continually denoted, for was she not a mountain who
with her high dignity rose above the height of all other
human beings ? And was not Mary like a mountain-
top when, in order to receive the Incarnation of the
Eternal Word, she extended the peak of her virtues
above all the angel-hosts, up to the throne of God ? " 88
In accordance with this reasoning " mons sublimus," the
lofty mountain, resting upon the earth but rising up
over the clouds, became an epithet of the Madonna,
which was often used both in sermons and writings.
In its quality of belonging at once to the lower
and to the higher world, the symbol of a mountain
corresponds with certain other emblems of Mary. For
the Mother of God was, as theologians expressed it,
the hyphen between Heaven and Earth. Everything
which, either for the thought or for the imagination,
united the two kingdoms, could be interpreted as a
symbol of her mediation. She was " scala coeli," the
heavenly ladder which Jacob saw in his dream, and
down which God descended to men. 89 She was the
rainbow, i.e. the visible bridge which stretches its arch
across the skies from Earth to Heaven and from Heaven
to Earth. 90 She was the opening or gate through which
men could enter the Paradise of Heaven " Fenestra
coeli," the window of Heaven, she was often called in
the prayers with which the pious invoked her for their
souls' safety. But Mary was even more than this. When
God left His Heaven for her womb, His mother became a
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE YIEGIF 465
new Heaven. " Ave mater coeium/ 1 Johannes Chrysos-
tomus Invokes lier in one of his sermons. 91
The believers also saw tokens of Mary's qualities in
the sights which give Heaven its splendour. The sun
and moon recalled her beauty, and she would doubtless
often have been called a sun of the world, had not this
epithet been reserved for her Divine Son. The moon,
on the other hand, became her standing emblem, as it
had been the attribute of the chaste Diana of heathen-
dom. By reason of various associations of ideas, the
star has also been regarded as an apposite symbol of the
Madonna. It sends out its light without itself losing
any of its brightness, just as Mary gave birth to her
Child without forfeiting her virginity. It is smaller and
weaker than the sun, but as a morning star it can
announce the advent of the great light, just as Mary
announces Jesus. God's Mother is therefore the star
which bears the sun, " stella solem pariens," and she is the
first herald of the morning twilight, " stella matutina."
Still more frequently, however, she bears the name by
which she is invoked in the prayer " Ave Maris stella,"
" Hail, Star of the Sea." This expression is often
explained as an interpretation of the Virgin's Hebrew
name " Miriam," and it is even possible that it origin-
ated from a mistake in translation ; 92 but that it became
naturalised in poetry and pious literature was rather
due to the fact that men looked up to Mary from " the
sea of the world and of sin," as to a star of comfort.
The old song "Stella Maris" has, both in public
services and in private piety, become one of the most
frequently occurring devotional expressions of Catholic
religious life. On shipboard it has been breathed up
innumerable times by sailors who in storms sought help
from the mild goddess who was " the Star of the Sea,"
466 THE SACEED SHRINE CHAP.
and who for those in peril opened a " window " in the
dark and threatening skies. 93
Among the heavenly symbols of Mary is also to be
found the last, and poetically the most noteworthy of
all the many shrines which served as similes of the Holy
Virgin. When the Saviour had once been looked upon
as a sun, His mother naturally had her counterpart in
that which enclosed the sun. The sun is often hidden
in clouds ; therefore Mary is the cloud which hides the
great light. By the same reasoning, as has already been
mentioned, the Host was characterised as a cloud which
God drew over Himself in order that the eyes of men
might not be blinded by His glory. If rightly inter-
preted, the Old Testament metaphors could offer much
support for such a view. The cloud brought to the earth
the rain, which, according to the Jewish idea, was the
type of all blessing. In a cloud God had revealed Him-
self to His people during the wandering in the wilderness
(Exodus xvi. 10), and in a cloud He filled His temple
(1 Kings viii. 10). In a cloud also, according to Daniel's
dream (vii. 13), "the Son of Man" would be brought
before " the Ancient of Days," who gave Him " dominion
and glory and a kingdom." 94 A still more direct applica-
tion to the Madonna could be drawn from the prophecy
of Isaiah (xix. 1), " Behold the Lord rideth upon a swift
[according to the Vulgate, light] cloud, and shall come
into Egypt, and the idols of Egypt shall be moved at
His presence, and the heart of Egypt shall melt in the
midst of it." In this passage was seen a prophecy of
the flight into Egypt, and the miracles which took place
during the journey of the Holy Family. The analogy
was all the more complete because the apocryphal narra-
tive of the destruction of the idols had probably been
composed simply to give confirmation to Isaiah's prog-
xxi THE SYMBOLS OF THE VIRGIN 467
nostication. Thus to theologians and poets Mary became
the " light cloud," which bore the Saviour in its womb ; 95
and she was also the beneficent rain -cloud, which at
Elijah's prayer rose up from the sea and gave moisture
to the dried-up fields. 96
The symbolism of the cloud gained a still richer
significance when it was used in descriptions of the birth
of Christ. As early as in late mediaeval poetry it
became customary to sing of God's appearance on earth
by paraphrasing some verses of the 19th Psalm : " Like
a bridegroom from his bridal chamber," it was said, He
came forth from the temple of Mary. This stately
simile had, as we have already seen, been conceived by
a poet who had been fascinated by the sight of the
daylight, when it breaks forth over the firmament. The
bridegroom is the sun who " exults to run his course
from one end of the heavens to the other," and the
bridal chamber is the eastern sky which is coloured
red and gold at sunrise, or those clouds which shine
with the light hidden behind them. Thus when Mary's
temple, i.e. her virginal body, is likened to the adorned
chamber of the bridegroom, the figure of the earthly
woman has borrowed beauty from the most splendid
sight in nature. Her being shines with divine light in
the same way that the clouds are shone through by the
sun ; 97 and the relationship between the mother's little-
ness and the Son's greatness ia clearly expressed in the
difference between the cloud, which has no light of its
own, and the sun, which only for a time can be concealed
by its shimmering covering. Thus the cloud-symbolism
was used by preference by the poets who tried to make
clear in ingenious similes the subordination of one of the
Holy Persons to the other.
Since Mary, as a shining cloud, was the herald of
468 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
tlie sun, she could naturally be associated also with
other ideas of the morning twilight and the beginning
of day. It was on the basis of such an association of
ideas that the comparisons between the bride and the
morning red in the Song of Solomon were thought
particularly applicable to the Madonna. The same line
of reasoning led the early rhetoricians to employ a simile
which became famous in mediaeval and renaissance poetry.
In his invocation to S. Francis, Dante says that Assisi
ought properly to be called " Oriente," because a sun has
gone forth from this town ; 98 and Borneo exclaims :
But, soft ! what light through yonder window breaks ?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun !
One is reminded of these magnificent tropes when one
reads in Ephraim Syrus : " The East with its [pale] stars is
an image of Mary, from whose womb the Lord of all the
stars went forth." " With all their strained search after
allegories the old theologians could still find some images
which had a powerful effect and a strong poetic vitality.
With the symbolisation of Mary by the early morn-
ing hours, can be associated the idea of her representing
the Spring. 100 She was the harbinger of the Summer, as
of the day, and the month of flowers, May, bore her
name : " le mois de Marie." On the other hand for in
her person contrasts meet the stillness of evening
twilight was sanctified to her who at the time of the
Ave was wedded to God. The rest after the labours of
the day was suitable for devotion to the Mother of God,
and Saturday, which was the evening of the week of
toil, was pre-eminently the day of the Madonna.
An attempt has here been made to comment upon
the most important of the epithets used in the litera-
xxi THE SYMBOLS OE THE VIRGIN 469
tnre of the Madonna ; but it has not been possible to
achieve any completeness in the summary. In excuse
for the omissions in this chapter, however, it may be
said that, as Bernard of Morlas expressed it, the number
of Mary's virtues would cause even the profoundest and
most eloquent understanding to succumb under the task
of describing them : " Sic est densa, sic immensa laudis
tuae copia ut profunda et facunda succumbant in-
genia." 101 It is a no less difficult task to classify all the
things and phenomena with which Mary has been com-
pared. It is possible, as has been done here, to arrange
a number of them in small groups, referring to certain
special qualities of the Virgin or to certain fixed events in
her life ; but whatever system of analysis be used, a quan-
tity of epithets will always remain, for which we must em-
ploy the makeshift heading "Miscellaneous." The only
consolation is that such a division of unclassified similes
does not include any notable materials for the character-
isation of the Madonna. Therefore, on the basis of the
likenesses and symbols which have been described in the
preceding pages, we ought to be able to gain an idea of
Mary's being as it appeared to the imagination of pious
poets. That the picture may be clear, it is only necessary
shortly to recapitulate the list of the Virgin's similes.
It has appeared that the whole sphere of life and
of nature was searched for symbols to illustrate the
Madonna's virginity and. high motherhood. All that
was pure and lovely, and all that was high and great,
was enlisted in the praise of her glory. She became
inaccessible as the walled-in garden, the closed gate or
the sealed fountain. She was beautiful as the most
splendid objects human art could produce : a decorated
shrine, a golden urn, a kingly throne, a palace, a temple,
and a church. She was mighty and strong as a fortress
470 THE SACEED SHEINE CHAP, xxi
or as the lofty tower of David. But she was at the same
time shy as a young girl, affectionate as a bride, proud
as a wife, and venerable as a mother. All the caressing
and flattering likenesses, with which men have sung
their beloved, were applied to her who united in herself
all the dignities of womanhood. She was the flower of
the valleys, the rose among thorns, the lily among
thistles, and the dove of the rocks that hides itself in
the mountain-clefts. And if these fair things lent their
grace to the Virgin's figure, her greatness was set forth
by the sights of nature, which are too sublime to be
compared with earthly things. The lofty mountain's
scaling of Heaven, the infinity of the sea, the fruitfulness
of the earth, the clearness of the air and the light of the
skies become qualities of the Mother of God.
Thus, as early as the first centuries, there was de-
veloped an idea which during the Middle Ages was
formulated by theologians, and which in its shape is a
play upon words, but in its import conceals a significant
meaning. Pious authors quoted the tenth verse in
Genesis : " The gathering together of the waters called
He [God] Seas" " Congregationes aquarum appelavit
Maria"; and they continued, u congregationes gratiarum
appelantur Maria" "but the gathering together of
grace and beauty is called Maria." 102 As the innumer-
able waves meet in the infinite sea, so all separate beauty
meets in the figure of Mary. It was not merely a theo-
logical principle or a moral pattern that was honoured
in the Madonna. In her name was worshipped the
whole visible and invisible creation, as it radiates upon
us, when it is conceived of as a covering for a spiritual
principle, or when it shines in the light of a symbol
hidden behind the world of phenomena.
CHAPTER XXII
THE SACRED SHRIKE
Die Seel' 1st ein Kristall, die Gottheit ist ilir Schein,
Der Leib, in dem Du lebst, ist ihrer beiden Sclirein.
ANGELTJS SILESITTS, Cherubinischer Wandersmann.
IT may be urged, with an appearance of justification,
that it is at an arbitrary point that this work breaks off.
The history of Mary does not end when her body is
taken up to Heaven and she occupies her place by the
side of the Trinity. On the contrary, at this moment
begins a new stage of the Madonna's life, which in a
way is more important than her earthly existence. By
the miracles she has performed and still performs, she
enters into familiar relations with created beings. Her
motherhood is widened, for now it embraces not only
cc the Son of Man," but all the children of men. As
the Divinity no longer claims her care, she can bestow
her love instead upon all who need a mother's help ;
and such help none can give so richly as she, who has
experienced the highest that motherhood implies. She
understands earthly existence, because, without being
defiled by its baseness, she herself has experienced all
its joys and pains, as bride and wife, and as a happy
and a sorrowing mother. Her sympathy with suffering
is rich and generous, because she has known misfortune
but is herself no longer weighed down by it. As the
471
472 THE SACEED SHBINE CHAP.
absolutely pure being, she can give assistance to those
who strive against temptation, and she can lend encour-
agement to those oppressed by the grief which she herself
has overcome. But she is also a true mother, in that she
helps her wards even when their desires are childish and
unimportant. In their daily life she stands at their
side, orders their affairs aright for them, and nods
warnings or friendly approval at them from her images.
About all these great and small miracles legends
have been written, songs sung, and pictures painted
without number ; but all that the Madonna has effected
in human life belongs to a different story from that which
we have wished to describe here. We can with good
reason exclude all the narratives and symbols which
refer to the time after Mary's Assumption, because from
them no fresh light is to be gained with reference to
her relationship to the Divinity. It is only for the
explanation of this relation that the writings of pious
thinkers concerning the Madonna have been summarised
in what goes before. In this respect our summary
ought to have been sufficiently complete to justify some
general conclusions in regard to the religious and aesthetic
life which expresses itself in the Poetry and Art of the
Catholic Church.
It has become apparent that the same idea of the
connection of the Creator with creation, i.e. of the
Divine Incarnation, which was the basis for the thought-
structure of the Mass-doctrine, has been a cause not
the only one, but the fundamental one of the wor-
ship of the Madonna. The two dogmas by which the
Catholic Church separates itself from the Reformed
creeds are derived from a common principle ; and just
as they are based on the same fundamental doctrine,
xxii THE SACRED SHEDTE 473
so they correspond with one another in the corollaries
which have been deduced from the thesis. Thus in the
Madonna-cult one is perpetually reminded of legendary
and symbolic motives which one has learned to know
in the Mass-ritual. Not only is the actual miracle the
same in either case, but in each the great paradox is
formulated in similar antitheses. Just as the Mass-
miracle is said to consist in the priest being able " to
create his own Creator," so the Incarnation is character-
ised as an event at which " an earthly woman gives
life to her own Creator," at which " a daughter gives birth
to her Father," and at which " the Maker of all things
allows Himself to be made." The magically effective
words of the priest answer to the words with which
Gabriel greeted Mary. It is the ringing of a bell
which signifies to the pious both that the Highest has
descended over the altar and that He has taken up His
abode in the Virgin's womb. Just as the ^e-toll recalls
the idea that Heaven was joined to Earth in the body df
Mary, so the sound-signals in the Mass are to awake
the thought of the Incarnation of God in human form.
According to Catholic symbolism the altar is a manger,
and the manger is often represented in early art as an
altar. But the table which bears the holy bread is also
a symbol of the body of that woman who bore the
Divine Child; and her womb, that of a mother yet
closed like a virgin's, is a magical room in the same way
that the old altar-room enclosed with curtains was a
sorcerer's cabinet, in which the great transformation
took place without its process being visible. The altar
again is conceived of as a grave, while the Madonna
stands for the earth, which, according to the universal
mythological conceptions, is at the same time the
mother of mankind and the tomb of men.
474 THE SACBED SHEINE CHAP.
Significant analogies between tlie Mass-doctrine and
the cult of the Madonna are met with even in the means
by which the miracle was brought about. When the
young woman became a mother without losing her
virginity, this was due to the fact that the Holy Ghost
had " overshadowed" her ; and when the bread is trans-
formed into a God without changing its shape, the Holy
Ghost has descended over the Mass-table. Accordingly,
in old churches a carved dove was hung up, which with
its wings " overshadowed " the holy place. In pictures
of the Annunciation, the same dove floats down from
Heaven towards the Virgin's bowed head. In the illus-
trations to those legends according to Church dogma,
heretical which tell of some visible Mass-miracles, a
little child is often seen, lifted above the altar on the
hands of the priest ; and even in pictures of the Annun-
ciation, likewise on the basis of an heretical idea, there
appears a little child descending towards his mother.
These are, however, external and relatively un-
essential analogies. The crucial point is that the
worship of the Sacrament and the worship of the
Madonna are characterised by the same veneration for
the inviolability of Holiness. In their manner of
handling the bread and wine, and of regarding and
describing the Madonna, the pious seek to observe the
greatest conceivable reverence. The Host, it is said, is
so pure that it may only be touched by pure hands,
and if a man washes himself after having touched it,
it is only an unbeliever who can see in that washing a
purification. In the same way both the Divine Child
and His human mother are so pure that they cannot be
purified, but themselves cleanse the water with which
they have been washed. The room which preserves the
eucharistic God is fitted and embellished as the fore-
xxii THE SACRED SHEIE"E 475
most of all the shrines which artistic craftsmanship can
produce ; and the body in which the Incarnate God
rested is described as the most perfect of all the shapes
of which poetic imagination can create an ideal picture.
In the legends of Mary's life features are introduced
which are borrowed from narratives concerning the most
famous shrines of earlier ages. When the Virgin's dead
body is borne to the grave it performs the same miracles
as the Jewish Ark of the Covenant ; but it is raised from
out the grave because, by reason of what it once enclosed,
it is too holy to be allowed to decay in the earth.
Again, when artists render this Assumption, they make
Mary be carried by angels, who form an almond-shaped
glory around her figure ; and the same disposition
appears in pictures which, undoubtedly with a symbolical
reference to Mary, represent a monstrance borne up on
angel-hands to Heaven. 1 It even happens that the
connection between Mary and the Host-preserver is
called to mind in pictures of the Assumption by making
some Hosts float down from the Queen of Heaven's
mantle. 2 The two series of symbols continually blend,
so that in some cases it becomes positively difficult to
decide which one of the sacred shrines is glorified in
a given poem or picture.
This double significance of Catholic symbols is excel-
lently illustrated in one of the visions seen by the
German seeress, Anna Katharina Emmerich. " I saw,"
she relates, " how the Holy Virgin's figure was enclosed
by an image that filled the whole temple, and with its
apparition threw into shade all the light of it. I saw
under Mary's heart a glory, and understood that this
radiance betokened the promise of God's most holy
blessing. But I saw also that the glory was surrounded
by the Ark of Noah, so that Mary's head arose above
476 THE SACRED SHRINE CHAP.
the Ark. Then I saw that the Ark was transformed
into an Ark of the Covenant, and that again gave place
to a temple. Finally, the temple, too, disappeared, and
from the glory came forth a Mass-chalice before Mary's
breast, and over the chalice there shone before Mary's
mouth a wafer bearing the sign of the Cross." 3
In this, as in nearly all the meditations of the pious
German woman, it may be observed how the visions
are compiled out of impressions from devotional pictures
and recollections of early religious literature. Anna
Katharina Emmerich was versed in the Apocryphal
traditions, and had a good knowledge of the Church's
system of symbols ; but she had not mastered in its
entirety the wide sphere of the Catholic teaching on
this matter. Had she done so, she would have been
able to see in imagination a still longer series of " dis-
solving views." She might have seen how Mary's
figure includes one after another of those shrines which
became holy by reason of their costly or divine contents :
the grave, whose contours passed into the form of the
altar ; the saint-chest, which disappeared into the altar-
reredos, which became in its turn a Host-preserver ; and
the tabernacle for the holy bread, which is likened by
theologians to the mind of faithful communicants. She
might have seen how, in a last transformation scene,
the Mother of God, too, is lost in a symbolical shrine
which is as great and inclusive as the whole visible world,
and which is sanctified by God's union with creation.
So close is the connection between the Catholic emblems
that the mind spontaneously glides from one symbol to
the other from works of art to life, from life to the
world, and from the world back to those human minds
in which all these marvellous ideas have been produced
and combined with each other.
xxii THE SACKED SHEINE 477
In their rhetorical hymns the Church's poets sum-
mon the thinkers of all time to bear amazed witness to
the miracle of infinity being able to compress itself into
the shape of a little wafer, and of an earthly creature
being able to include that for which the world has no
boundary. These hymns indeed continue to fulfil their
purpose, even if in a different way from that intended ;
for they cannot be read without a feeling of amazement
at the sovereignty and power of pious imagination over
uncritical faith. 4 But not only are we surprised at all
the conclusions which have been reached from errors of
translation, plays upon words and naive argumenta-
tion ; we may severely maintain a rational disapproval
of the theologians' manner of misusing that rhetorical
ambiguity, the equivoque^ under whose influence " tout
sens devint douteux, tout mot eut deux visages "; 5 we
may carefully defend ourselves against the insidious
smuggling-in of poetic symbols in a logical demonstra-
tion a process which makes of the arguments coins
with a double impress, which cannot be set in circulation
without intentionally or unintentionally compromising
one's intellectual honesty. Yet we cannot refuse our
admiration to the powerful work shaped during the
ages by pious thought and pious art in collaboration.
If once for all we put aside the question of truth, we are
justified in judging theological constructions as purely
aesthetic phenomena ; that is to say, we can regard the
Catholic Mass-doctrine and the cult of the Madonna as
a poem, into which the faithful have introduced their
ideas of the union of infinity with what is earthly. This
poem is naively poetical, because in the description of
Mary's history and in the choice of her symbols it
expresses the worship of the beauty of Nature and of
Life ; but it is at the same time romantic and pessi-
478 THE SACKED SHKINE CHAP.
mlstic, because in its radical idealisation of Mary's
history it expresses the purely biological discontent
with all the low and earth-bound elements inherent in
the phenomena of earthly existence. By striving to
release, in imagination at least, one person from all the
impurity of human life, religious fancy has given form
to the race's dreams of an existence more perfect and
more pure than life as it is. In doing so it has, in spite
of all the objections that may be raised by a contented
and serene optimism, served a need which is not only
religious and theological, but which is also aesthetic in
the most universal and purely human sense of the
word. All the grotesqueness in the strainedly ingenious
expositions of Mary's anatomical virginity, and all the
painful refinements in the ordinances for the handling of
the Sacrament, ought not to conceal the poetic feeling
lying at the foundation of these extraordinary structures
of thought ; and the bizarre elements in the reasoning
ought not to blind us to the fact that there is in any
case an imposing unity and, in a purely formal respect,
a logical sequence in these constructions.
Such aesthetically philosophic systems as the
Catholic doctrines of the Mass and the Madonna could
only be developed during a period which did not recog-
nise the right of doubt or criticism in the presence of
that in which a divine revelation was seen. The
mediaeval scholastics knew with an enviable certainty
all that man needed to know about life and the
world. To us, who know nothing, their views can give
no answer concerning the idle questions of thought.
As regards their intellectual import, we cannot from
the Church's doctrines draw knowledge of anything
save the strayings of the human mind. But Catholic
dogma can be regarded also as something other than
xxii THE SACEED SHBINE 479
a theory. By all the artistic production germinating in
the life of faith, and by all the unconscious and unpre-
meditated poetry concealed in the theological structures,
the early Christian and mediaeval view of life has some-
thing to say even to an agnostic inquirer. It is not
entirely dead, because it has been something more than
an edifice of thought ; that is to say, because mental
longings and bodily attitudes of devotion and veneration
have been immortalised in the living and visible forms
of art.
Like all strange and remote art, this production can
be fully understood only if we try with critical sym-
pathy to place ourselves at a point of view which is
not our own. Yet there is perhaps something in the
Church's art which can come near to us immediately,
and without any advances from our side. However
completely we may have freed ourselves from religious
doctrines, we still retain certain illusions, or rather
certain inevitable perceptions of life, which enable us
to understand the power of the ancient symbols over
men's minds. The world has become wider since it
discarded those doctrines according to which the earth
was the centre of the universe ; and man has lost his
rank of being the Prince of Creation. None the less,
in this fortuitous life which does not know its pur-
pose, there are moments when the great seems to
compress itself into the little, and when thoughts or
impressions make the mind a covering for contents
"that the worlds are too narrow to include." There
are experiences during which infinity seems to descend
upon the finite, and during which men lift their happi-
ness on high, with the pride of the officiant, with the
humility of the receiver, and with the trembling rever-
ence of him who knows that he bears in his hands some-
480 THE SACKED SHEINE CHAP, xxn
thing great and costly, which must not be wasted or
profaned. "Without presuming to explain the unknown,
it should be recognised that existence in its joys and in
its toils which is what the faithful symbolically term
bread and wine can appear worthy of being regarded
with the reverence which constitutes the innermost being
of Church art. Where such a view of life prevails, there,
independently of all religious ideas, the old pictures and
poems may still call forth that response of recognition
which all living art has the power to evoke.
NOTES
NOTES
CHAPTEE I
1. For a more detailed treatment of the religious art of the lower races the
reader may be referred to the author's article, "Art Origins," in Hastings's
Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, vol. i. Allied questions are also treated
in the author's earlier publications, The Origins of Art, and Skildringar ur
Pueblofollcens Konstlif (The Art-life of the Pueblo Indians).
2. Of. e.g. Shairp's utterances on the nature-feeling of the Puritan poets
(Poetic Interpretation of Nature, pp. 108-109), and Coquerel's reflections on
the naturalism of the Protestant portrait-painters (Rembrandt et Vindiwdualisme
dans Vart t passim). It is not possible here to embark on the important
questions of the relation of the Reformation to Art. The difference between
Protestant and Catholic views of Art is excellently illustrated in the controversy
that was occasioned by Eugene Miintz's articles " I/ Art et le protestantisme "
(in La Re'oue des revues, March and July 1900). Of. especially N". "Weiss,
" I/ Art et le protestantisme," in Bulletin historique et littSraire (Societ6 de
1'histoire du protestantisme fran$ais), No. 10, 1900, pp. 505-535.
For the influence of the form of religion on literature among the Protestant
nations, cf. Texte, J.-J. Rousseau, p. 444 (Collection of the utterances of
Mme. de Stael, de Villers, Bonstetten, Sismondi, and Benjamin Constant).
3. Cf. especially Chateaubriand, Genie du christianisme, P re partie, livre 1 ;
4&me p ar tie, livres 1-2.
4. Goethe, Aus meinem Leben, Buch 7.
5. Cf. Dom Gueranger, Institutions liturgiques, i. p. 95, on the life of the
community during the earlier Middle Ages. "For the faithful the Church
took the place of both theatre and forum."
6. Otte, Handbuch der Icirchlichen Kunstarchaologie, i. pp. 10 and 13;
Bergner, Handbuch der Jcirchlichen Kunstalterthiimer, p. 260.
7. Dietrichson, Omrids af den kirkelige Kunstarkaeologi, p. 87.
8. Schultze, Archajologie der christlichen Kunst, p. 123.
9. Cf. e.g. Historia Francorum, x. 15, "sanctae crucis area." A reference
to this expression of Gregory of Tours will be found in Viollet le Due's
Dictionnaire de I' architecture, ii. p. 15.
CHAPTEE II
1. On the difference between "arcosol graves " and " sepolcri a mensa," see
Holtzinger, Die altchristliche Architektur, p. 229.
2. The theory that the catacomb chapels were the model for the churches
483
484 THE SACKED SHBINE
above ground is suggested already by Seroux d'Agincourt, Storm dell' arte
dimostrata coi monumenti, i. pp. 143-146, especially p. 145 : "II carattere che
1' architettura offriva ne' monumenti religiosi delle catacombe, modific6 quello
che prese al di fuori, quando il cristianesimo cominci6 a godere d' un intera
liberta." This view has probably been widely spread by Wiseman's famous
novel, Fabiola, p. 188 : "The early Christians thus anticipated underground,
or rather gave the principles which directed, the forms of ecclesiastical archi-
tecture." An attempt to explain the transept of the basilica with triumphal
arch and apse as a gigantically enlarged copy of the monumental arcosol
graves in the Catacombs has been made by J. P. Richter in his Der Ursprung
der abendlandischen Kirchengeb&ude, pp. 41-44.
That the table-like sarcophagi and arcosol-graves in the Catacombs were
regularly used during the persecutions as Mass -tables is maintained by
d'Agincourt (op. tit. i p. 144), de Kossi (quoted by Wieland, Mensa und
Confessio, p. 6), Caumont (Abdce'daire, p. 7), Kraus (Roma sotterranea, pp. 585-
586, and Geschichte der christlichen Kunst, i p. 260), A. Schmid (in Kraus,
Realencyklopadie, i. 35), Aspelin (Siipialttarit, p. 2), Hildebrand (Sveriges
Medeltid, iii. pp. 253 and 607), and by most of the popular writers. In his-
torical novels underground services at the so-called grave -altars have often
been described : cf. Chateaubriand, Les Martyrs, pp. 91 and 238 ; Wiseman,
Fdbiola, p. 133 ; Newman, Callista, p. 261.
3. Wieland, op. dt. p. 72 ; Kauffmann, Sandbuch der christlichen Archdologie,
pp. 120, 142 seq. ; Kichter, op. cit. pp. 4-9 ; Holtzinger, op, dt. pp. 229, 237 ;
Mkolaus Miiller, Koitneterien (in Herzog-Eauck, EealencyklopOdie, x. p. 836).
The three last-named authors maintain that the grave-chapels were used at
memorial festivals and death-meals, but that regular services were never cele-
brated in them.
4. Cf. e.g. the general view of the theories of the origin of the Basilica given
by Kaufmann, op. cit. pp. 145 seq.
5. Minucius Felix, Octavius, cap. x.
6. The stone altars, supported by independent legs, seem to have been still
erected in French churches during the later Middle Age. Cf. Caumont, AUc6-
daire, pp. 528-529, 682 ; Viollet le Due, Dictionnaire de V architecture, vol. ii.
art. "L'Autel"; Enlart, Manuel d'archdologie, i. pp. 732-733.
Cf. also Otte, Handbuch der kirchlichen Kunstarch&oloyie, i. p. 99, on altar
tables resting on columns in German churches of the eleventh and twelfth
centuries. This type has perhaps been borrowed by Crusaders from the Oriental
Church, where it survived till our. own day.
For detailed information about the earliest altars, see Rohault de Fleury,
La Messe, i. pp. 47 seq. ; Laib und Schwarz, Studien tiber die Gfeschichte des
christUchen Altars, pp. 10-12, 17 ; Stanley, Christian Institutions, pp. 187,
198-252 ; Atchley, Ordo Romanus primus, p. 19.
7. Cf, e.g. the cupola mosaic in S. Giovanni in Fonte, at Ravenna.
8. Schultze, Arckciologie, p. 119.
9. The statement that the Christian communities were legalised as burial
colleges, in order that they might under tins name possess land and common
buildings, seems to have been first made by de Rossi. This view has been
adopted by a great number of investigators (cf. e.g. Kraus, Geschichte der
christlichen Kunst, i. p. 37, and Roma sotterranea, p. 97 ; Kaufmann, op. cit. p.
143 ; Dietrichson, Den JcirJcelige Kunstarkaeologi, pp. 15, 58). But there are
also authors who think the theory unproved (cf. Sybel, Christliche Antike, i.
NOTES TO CHAP. II 485
p. 121). It is not within our competence to express any opinion npon this
juridical question. The only thing to be borne in mind is that the Christians,
even if this was not based on any legal ordinance, felt relatively secure at
the places where the dead were buried. According to Kenan, it was only
during the worst persecutions, under Valerianus and Maximianus, that the
right of the Christians to dispose of their graves was not recognised (Kenan,
Marc-Aurele t p. 539). As is well known, during the reign of Valerianus, Sixtus
II. was attacked and executed "in coemeterio." When, during the worst per-
secutions, respect for the abodes of the dead had once been weakened, the
Christians were, as Wieland rightly states, more exposed at the burial-places
than anywhere else (Wieland, Mensa und Confessio, p. 91). But the very fact
that it was known they could be found there shows that these places had earlier
been used as places of assembly.
10. Kichter, Der Ursprung der abendlandiscken Kirchengebdude, p. 21 ;
Wieland, op. tit pp. 76-81 and 91. The latter author, like many modern
investigators, considers that memorial festivals were celebrated in these over-
ground chapels, but not any regular service.
11. Kraus, Geschichte der christlichen Kunst, i. pp. 261-265 ; Kaufmann,
Jffandbuch, p. 145.
12. Holtzinger, Die altchristliche ArchiteJctur, pp. 5-6 ; Enlart in Michel,
Histoire de Fart, I. L p. 97 (on French churches outside the town walls).
13. Cf. Hennas, Pastor, cap. 16. (On how the heathen descend to baptism
as [spiritually] dead, but ascend from it alive. Lightfoot, The Apostolic
fathers, p. 472. ) The octagonal form of the earliest fonts was interpreted
already by the old Fathers of the Church with symbolical reference to the round
or octagonal grave monuments (Holtzinger, op. tit. p. 213 ; Otte, Haiidbuch,
i. p. 17 ; Barfoed, Altar off Prcedikestol, p. 284 ; Dietrichson, Den kirkelige
Kunstarkaeologi, p. 23). An expression of the same association of ideas may be
seen in the fact that romanesque fonts were often adorned with reliefs repre-
senting Christ's death and resurrection (Bergner, Handbuch der kirchlichen
Kunstalt&rthumer, p. 276).
As Barfoed points out (op. at. p. 284), the grave-symbolism loses its appli-
cation to baptism as soon as immersion in the font began to be replaced by a
sprinkling of the head.
14. Schultze, ArcMologie, p. 135 ; Lucius, Anfdnge des Heiligenkults, p. 25.
Walter Pater, in his historical novel Marius the Epicurean, has more beautifully
and clearly than any one else described the influence of the Christian doctrine of
immortality upon the cult of the dead.
15. Kraus, JRoma sotterranea, p. 109 ; Lucius, op. tit. p. 305 ; Kenan, Marc-
Aurele, pp. 524-525.
16. Augustinus, Confessiones, vi. cap. 2.
17. Lucius, op. tit. pp. 71, 283, and 309.
Probably the oldest mention of these festivals is to be found in the narrative
of Polycarp's martyrdom (about the middle of the second century) : "And so
we afterwards took up his bones which are more valuable than precious stones
and finer than refined gold, and laid them in a suitable place ; where the Lord
will permit us to gather ourselves together, as we are able, in gladness and
joy, and to celebrate the birthday of his martyrdom for the commemoration
of those that have already fought in the contest and for the training and
preparation of those that shall do so hereafter." Lightfoot, The Apostolic
Fathers, pp. 196 (text) and 209 (English translation).
486 THE SACKED SHKINE
A description of the Christian cult of the dead, romanticised but based on
careful study, is to "be found in Walter Pater's novel, Marius the Epicurean,
ii p. 103.
For the heathen memorial festivals on the death-days of the deceased, and
for the meals laid upon the grave, of. the rich collection of facts given by
Lucius, op. cit. pp. 18-19, 22, 291 seq. ; Schultze, op. tit. p. 135 ; N. Miiller,
JZoimeterien, in Herzog-Hauck's Realencyklopadie, x. p. 833 ; Kenan, Marc-
Aurele, p. 33 ("The Emperor always keeps the philosophers' graves adorned
with flowers, and offers sacrifices on their death-days ").
18. Lucius, op. cit, pp. 27 and 29, cites utterances of Cyprian, Eusebius, and
Ambrosius upon the Mass-cult performed at funerals, at which the souls of
the dead were thought to partake of the blessing of the mystical sacrifice.
For the Mass at memorial festivals, cf. ibid. pp. 71, 76, 318 ; Wieland, Mensa
und ConfessiOj pp. 59 and 62,
19. Schultze, op. cit. p. 139 ; cf., however, Holtzinger, Die altchristliche
Architektur, p. 237.
20. Schultze, op. cit. pp. 155 seq., on martyr graves and memorial chapels
erected over the graves.
21. Prudentius, Peristephanon, xi. vv. 153 seq. These verses are cited and
utilised by Kraus, Geschichte der christlichen JZunst, vol. i. p. 41. Kraus
considers himself justified, by reason of Prudentius's poem, in supposing that
even during the persecutions grave-masses were celebrated in the Catacombs.
Schultze, peculiarly enough, has paid no attention to the description of
Hippolytus's grave-altar.
An ordinance in Felix I.'s Pope-book, according to which masses should be
celebrated over the graves of martyrs, has been often quoted. Cf. e.g. Durand,
national, ii. p. 23 ; Kraus, Mealencyklopadie, i. p. 39 ; Kaufmann, Sfandbuch,
p. 179. It should be remembered, however, that the earliest edition of the
Liber pontificalis was written only in the time of Felix IV. Cf. Holtzinger,
Die altchristliche Architektur, p. 120 ; "Wieland, Mensa und Confessio, p. 148.
Kock, The Church of our Fathers, iii. pp. 10-12, describes old Anglo-Saxon
memorial festivals, at which Mass was celebrated at temporary tables erected
over the actual saint-graves.
22. Otte, ffandbuch, i. pp. 40-42 ; Holtzinger, op. cit. p. 121 ; Kaufmann,
op. dt. p. 179.
23. Cf. Auber, Histoire du symbolisme, ii. pp. 179-180 ; Barfoed, Altar og
Prcedikestol, p. 331. It may here be left unsettled whether the apocalyptic
vision was a model for the old Christian cult arrangements, or if the reverse
was the case. For an interpretation of the passage, see Koestlin, Geschichte des
christlichen Gott&sdienstes, p. 6. Kenan, Marc-Aurele, p. 517, emphatically
maintains the influence of the Book of Revelation on Christian Liturgy.
Wieland (Mensa und Confessio, p. 45) considers that the vision refers to the
Jewish altar, at the foot of which the blood of the sacrificial animal, which
corresponds to the souls of the martyrs, was poured out. In his opinion the
revelation has had no importance for the development of the Christian cult.
24. For the influence of the heathen " cippa " on the forms and decoration of
the confess, cf. Holtzinger, Die altchristliche ArchiteMur, pp. 130-131.
25. Ibid. pp. 122-133.
26. The legend of Saint Varus offers a typical example of the transference of
a saint's body from the grave to the altar (Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints,
xii. p. 484 ; Acta Sanctorum, October 19, Ivii. pp. 432-433).
1STOTE3 TO CHAPS. II-III 487
27. Schultze, op. cit. pp. 119-120.
28. As early as at the second Council of Mcaea it was ordained that every
altar should enclose some relics. According to Lucius, HeiligenJcult, p. 278,
this order did not create any new custom, but only established a usage
already time-honoured. For historical information as to the age of the
usage and its introduction into northern communities, see Bock, Hierurgia,
ii. pp. 17-24 ; Frere, Pontifical Services, i. p. 2, and Religious Ceremonial,
pp. 84-85 ; Hildebrand, Sveriges Medeltid, iii. pp. 254-255. Scholastic and
symbolical interpretations of the significance of relics are set forth, among
others, by Honorius Augustodunensis (Sacramentarium, cap. 102. JPatrologia
Latina, vol. clxxii. col. 806, and Gemma animae, lib. i. cap. 134. - Patr. Lat.
clxxii. col. 586).
29. Daniel, Codex liturgicus, p. 54 (Ordo Romanus and Ordo Ambrosianus.
The Gallic and Mozarabic liturgies contain in this passage no reference to the
relics).
30. Laib und Schwarz, Studien, pp. 23-25 ; Kohault de Fleury, La Messe, ii.
pp. 1 seq. ; Holtzinger, op. cit. pp. 133-146 ; Atchley, Ordo JRomanus primus,
p. 20. For the comparatively rare " ciborium " altars in German churches, see
Otte, Handbuch, i. pp. 102-105 ; Bergner, Handbuch, p. 269.
31. Cf. the facts about German "ciborium" buildings adduced by
Meinander, Medeltida altarskdp, pp. 97-98.
32. Holtzinger, op. cit. p. 243.
33. Ibid. pp. 243 seq. 134 ; Schultze, Archaologie, pp. 121 seq. In explain-
ing the origin of the " ciborium " Schultze refers not only to the grave-buildings,
but also to the little "aedicula," which in heathen temples was often erected
above the images of the gods.
34. Viollet le Due, Dictionnaire de I' architecture, ii. p. 15 ; Binterim, Denk-
wurdigJceiten, iv. i. pp. 104-107 ; Rock, The Church of our Fathers, i. pp. 194*0.;
Laib und Schwarz, Studien, pp. 45-46 ; Rohault de Fleury, La Messe, v. pp.
24-25 ; Atz, Die christliche Kunst, pp. 17-18 ; Hildebrand, Sveriges Medeltid,
iii. p. 310 ; together with the frequently cited works of Kraus, Bergner, and
Otte.
CHAPTER III
1. The relationship between saint-miracles and relic-miracles should not,
however, be interpreted as supplying any ratio between the miraculous power
of the living men and of the remains of the dead. There are many saints
whose posthumous deeds are far more noteworthy than the miracles they
performed during their lives. Cf. Lucius, Heiligenkult, p. 174.
2. Cf. Maury, Croyances et Ugendes du moyen dge, pp. 116 seq.
3. Lucius, op. cit. pp. 205-245.
4. Cf. the facts collected by the author in The Origins of Art, pp. 278-286,
and in Skildringar ur PueblofolJcens Konstlif, pp. 109-110.
5. Renan, Nouvelles Etudes, p. 115.
6. Le Braz. La Terre dupasse", p. 171.
7. Schultze, Archaologie, p. 36 j Lucius, op. cit. pp. 144-145.
8. Cf. Fustel de Coulanges, La Cite' antique, pp. 191-193.
9. Schultze, op. cit. p. 136.
10. Lucius, 02?. cit. pp. 181, 136, 182.
488 THE SACEED SHRINE
11. Rohault de Fleury, La Messe, 1 p. 114.
12. Lucius, op. cit. pp. 273-274. It is an exception from the general rule
that is recorded in the legend of St. Wolfgang (t 994). When this saint became
Bishop of Regensburg he offered the inhabitants the choice between having, after
his death, his body or his miracles. People thought they had done good business
in asking to have the relics, without which the dead man would not be able
to perform any miracles. But Wolfgang, who probably saw through the com-
munity's calculations, cheated all expectations. His bones rest at Regensburg,
but perform no miracles, while, on the other hand, Wolfgang elsewhere gladly
helps those who invoke him (Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, xii. p. 732).
13. Lucius, op. cit. p. 136.
14. Ibid. pp. 246 seq.
15. Ephraim Syrus, Oarmina Nisibena, xiii., cited by Burkitt, Early Eastern
Christianity, pp. 98-99.
16. Lucius, op. cit. pp. 404-405. Saint Marcianus (t 388) exacted from his
disciples the promise that they should bury him secretly, because he was
distressed by seeing how, even during his lifetime, chapels were erected in
different places to receive his bones (Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, xiii,
p. 58 (2 Nov.) ; Acta Sanctorum, vol. Ixv. p. 541). Of. the precautions that
had to be taken to prevent the dying Saint Francis from being stolen by the
inhabitants of Perugia (Speculum perfectionis. ed. Sabatier, pp. 44 and 236 ;
JgJrgensen, Den hellige frans, p. 261). For the stealing of saints' bones, see
Sabatier, S. Francois d'Assise, p. 410.
17. Lucius, op. cit. p. 191 (citation from Augustine). The outgrowths of the
relic-cult were condemned in still stronger terms during the twelfth century
by the for his time particularly enlightened Abbot Guibert de Nogent-sous-
Coucy in his notable work, De pignoribus sanctorum, Patr. Lat. vol. clvi. (see
esp, coll. 621, 623-627) j cf. on this author Abel Lefranc's article in Etudes
cFhistoire du moyen dge dtdi&s a Gabriel Monod.
18. Lucius, op. cit. pp. 177 seq.
19. Richter, Der Ur sprung der abendlandischen Kirchengelaude^ p. 41 ; Lucius,
op. cit. p. 189.
20. Ibid. pp. 195 and 303. These pieces of cloth could, as substitutes for
relics, be enclosed in the altar's "sepulchral chamber," Kraus, jReaUncyklopadie,
i. p. 39.
21. On the preference of parts of the body over articles of clothing, see the
utterances of old authors collected by Lucius, op. cit. p. 405.
22. Lucius, op. cit. p. 303 (citation from Gregory of Tours, Gloria Martyrum,
28). According to a view 'worked out during the sixth century, and formu-
lated by Gregory the Great, the pieces of cloth had not absorbed emanations
from the martyrs, but had been transformed into their bodies. Thus the
reasoning which is at the base of the transubstantiation doctrine was applied
to the relic-cult. What is external, the accidents, remain unaltered, while the
substance undergoes transformation. The truth of this theory was confirmed,
it was asserted, by miracles similar to those which are related in the literature
about the Mass. J ust as there were bleeding Hosts, so also bleeding pieces of
cloth were known (Lucius, op. cit. p. 195). Those who believed in these miracles
could not, if they were consistent, admit that parts of the body had any pre-
ference over pieces of clothing ; but neither could they, if they upheld the
analogy with the eucharistic transubstantiation, have allowed that the pieces
of cloth underwent any change in weight
NOTES TO CHAP. Ill 489
23. Lucius, op. cit. pp. 386-387, 402.
24. Ibid. pp. 298-299 ; Kock, The Church of our fathers, HI p. 354.
25. Ibid. op. cit. p. 168 (citation from Sulpicius Severas) ; Dobschiitz,
Christus-Bilder, p. 98 (citations from Arculf and Beda).
26. Glover, Life and Letters in the Fourth Century, p. 285 (citation from Paulinus
de 3STola, Epistola XXXL ). The same passage is introduced by Lucius, op. cit.
p. 168. Calvin asserts that the fragments of the holy Cross would fill the hold
of a ship (TraicU des reliques, opera m. col. 420). Baring Gould says, in
opposition to this " ignorant calumny," that the particles in question are often
as small as pin's heads and as thin as hairs (Lives of the Saints, v. p. 63
(May 3)).
27. Baring Gould, op. cit. iii. p. 95 (March 6). Similar stories are related of
S, Tyllo (Feb. 9) and S. Abban (Oct 27). The last-named miracle is explained
by Baring Gould as follows : There were originally two saints with the name
Abban, who were fused by popular imagination into one person. The legend
of a doubling would thus have arisen to justify the appearance of two saint-
bodies, which were each authentic remains of a S. Abban. It need not be
said that these popular tales were not recognised by learned theologians even
during the Middle Ages. Where there was any inclination to criticise, the
multitudinous copies of relics of the same saint awoke a lively dissatisfaction.
Thus Guibert de Nogent, in terms that recall Calvin's polemic, jokes over the
fact that John the Baptist's head was preserved at two different places. " Can
one, indeed," he exclaims, "say anything more absurd about so great a man
than that he had been provided with two heads " (De pignoribus sanctorum.
Pair. Lat. vol. clvl col. 624). The curious correspondence between the writings
of the mediaeval author and Calvin's Traictb des reliques are set forth by
Lefranc, jfitudes d'histoire du moyen dye, p. 306.
28. Cf. Lucius, op. cit. p. 164. The same criticism is applied by enlightened
heathen authors to the ancient idols. Strabo, e.g., mocks at the numerous
"veritable" palladia which were all said to come from Troy (Dobschiitz,
Christus-Mlder, p. 20).
29. Lucius, op. cit. p. 171.
30. Digby, Mores catholici, i. p. 295, reference to Sardagna's Theologia
dogmatica. S. Carlo Borromeo had eight copies made of the holy nail at
Milan. One of these imitations, which was sent to Philip II., is now regarded
as an original, and is exhibited as such, in the Escorial (Baring Gould, op. cit.
v. p. 63).
31. Cf. Him, The Origins of Art, pp. 291-292. In the modern Catholic
Church it can still often be observed that pictures of saint-images are thought
to receive an increased power through contact, The monks at Ara Coeli in
Kome, who distribute to all visitors reproductions of II santo bambino, never
omit to rub the small pictures against the wall of the glass case in which
the wonder-working Child rests.
32. In our summary of the Veronica legend the differences between the
several variants have, for the sake of brevity, been omitted. For a detailed and
critical treatment of all the Christian Acheiropoiit legends Agbar's and
Veronica's Christ -pictures, the miraculous impression of the Saviour's form
on the pillar at which He was scourged, and on the shroud in which He was
laid, the Mary -picture at Dikaspolis and the pictures of S. George see
DobscMte, Christus-Mlder (passim). As Dobschiitz asserts, p. 269, all these
pictures have originated through contact with, i.e. through the impression
490 THE SACRED SHRIKE
of the model : " This thought is the natural expression for the Christian
Acheiropoiit belief."
The story of Veronica, and kindred legends, is also treated by Hackwood,
Christ Lore, p. 110 ; and by Renan, Marc-Aurele, p. 460 (rich bibliography).
It is worth mentioning that Aghar's cure corresponded exactly to the treat-
ment that is still practised by the medicine-men of the Navajo Indians, when
they let their patients roll over the great pictures made out in sand-mosaic.
Cf. Hirn, The Origins of Art, p. 292; Pueblofolkem konsttif, pp. 109-110.
33. Seuse [=Suso], Deutsche Schriften, i. pp. 87-88.
34. Lucius, op. cit. p. 197. The numerous legends about animated pictures
prove that between the saints and their representations there existed a relation-
ship similar to that existing between them and their relics. Of. the stories of
S. Catherine of Alexandria and S. Catherine of Siena, of S. Teresa and of
S. Rosa of Lima, etc.
CHAPTER IV
1. Lucius, ffeiligenkult, p. 140.
2. We deliberately leave out of consideration here the assertion of
educated Catholics that in the relics men really worshipped the saint in the
same way as God is worshipped in a picture or a symbol (cf. Esser, art.
" Reliquien '' in Wetzer-Welte, JKirchenlexikon}. It cannot be doubted that
relic worship for the earlier Christians as for the mass of believers to-day
was based on utilitarian ideas of the help that might be had from the sacred
remains.
3. Lucius, op. cit. p. 298 (utterances of Balaeus and Hilarius as to how the
demons howl for fear at the graves of martyrs).
4. Honorius Augustodunensis, Gemma animae (Patrologia Latina, vol. clxxii.
col. 567).
5. Cf. e.g. the description of how the faithful strove to touch Poly carp before
he was carried to the pyre, Lightfoot, The Apostolic Fathers, p. 207. Lucius,
op. cit. p. 402, introduces several narratives of how the great ascetics during
their lives were sought for by fellow-believers, who asked to touch their bodies
or apparel.
6. Rock, The Church of our fathers, iii. pp. 312-319 ; Lucius, op. cit. pp. 287
and 299.
7. Delehaye, Les Ldgendes hagiographiques, p. 178 (citation from Gregory of
Tours about the altar in St. Peter's, De gloria martyrum, 27).
8. Viollet le Due, Dictionnaire de r architecture, ii. p. 16 (art. "L'Autel") ;
Otte, Ifandbuch, i. p. 98 ; Bergner, ffandbuch, p. 261.
9. Lucius, op. cit. p. 278.
10. Otte, op. cit. i. pp. 34, 61, and 139.
11. For reliquaries in Swedish churches see Hildebrand, Sveriges Mcdeltid.
iii; pp. 607-646.
12. Bergaer, op. cit. pp. 350, 356.
13. These profane objects of adornment were in many cases presented to the
Church (Otte, op. cit. p. 158).
14. Cf. note 17 to Chap. II.
15. Cf. Sybel, Christliche Antike, ii. pp. 50 seq. Clermont Ganneau (Revue
critique, 1880, No, 47) attempts to derive the form of the Capsa, not fronx the
NOTES TO CHAP. IV 491
Christian sarcophagi, but from the old Jewish bone-chest, the so-called "ossuaria."
Of. Kraus, Geschichte der christlichen Kunst, ii. p. 476, note 7. "Woermann,
again, thinks that these relic-shrines maybe regarded as "new, refined, and
spiritualised editions of the prehistoric funeral urns in the form of buildings "
(Geschichte der Kunst, ii. p. 243).
16. Otte, op. cit. L pp. 149-150 (pictures of reliquaries in the form of towers
and church-cupolas) ; Bergner, op. cit. p. 353.
17. Enlart in La Grande Encyclopedic, xxviii. (art. "Reliquaires") ; Otte,
op. cit. i. pp. 150-153 ; Bergner, op. cit. pp. 353-355 ; Meinander^ AUarskdp,
p. 100.
18. Of. Hirn, The Origins of Art, p. 291.
19. Of. Lucius, op. cit. pp. 298-299.
20. Otte, op. cit. 1 p. 147 ; Bergner, op. cit. p. 356.
21. Otte, op. cit. i. p, 157 ; Bergner, op. cit, p, 356. For Swedish
monstrances, Hildebrand, op. cit. iii, pp. 691-693.
22. It was imagined that on their feast-days the saints were present in all
places where their bones were preserved. Lucius, op. cit. p. 310 (extracts from
Gregory of Hyssa, De S. Theodoro, Patr. Graec. xlvi. col. 745).
23. A similar function was performed, Hildebrand supposes, by the
many window openings in the church of S. Lawrence at Visby, op. cit. iii.
p. 644.
24. The custom of setting up relics on the altar was legalised by Papal letters
and the resolution of a Council during the ninth century. Laib und Schwarz,
Studien, pp. 2, 49, 65-66 j Miinzenberger, Zur Kenntniss und Wurdigung der
mittelalterlichen Altar e, i. p. 19 ; Otte, op. cit. i. p. 139.
Durandus, who wrote in the thirteenth century, mentions the custom of
placing upon the altar small phylacteries (i.e. according to Durandus'
terminology, small vessels of costly material) which contained saint -relics
(Rational^ i. p. 54, French transl.). He also says that in some churches saint-
relics and consecrated wafers were preserved in a tabernacle placed on the altar.
This, in his opinion, is an imitation of the arrangement on the Old Testament
Ark of the Covenant (ibid. i. p. 35). Where the altar was crowned by a
" ciborium " roof, the small reliquaries, like the lamps and wreaths (the so-called
" regna," which will bo mentioned in Chap. V.), were probably hung by chains
from the roof. Cf. Sauer, Symtolik des Kirchengelaudes, p. 176 ; Otte, op. cit.
i. p. 139.
25. ViolletleDuc, Dictionnairedel'architecture,ii. p. 37 ; Rock, The Church
of our Fathers, iii. p. 319.
26. Viollet de Due, Dictionnaire du mooilier, 1 p. 70 ; Laib und Schwarz,
op, cit. p. 52 ; Gaidoz, Un Vieux Hits vnMical, pp. 35-54 ; Miinzenberger, op. cit.
i. p. 36. Delehaye (Les Ltyendes hagiographiques, p. 177) makes a reservation to
Gaidoz's method of comparing the Christian relic-cult with the old magical
healing-rites. For the cure in question, cf. Hirn, op. cit. pp. 285-286.
27. Viollet le Due, Dictionnaire de F architecture, ii. p. 25 ; Laib und Schwarz,
op. cit. pp. 52 and 69 ; Eohault de Fleury, La Messe, ii. p. 43 ; Dietrichson,
Omrids af den kirkelige Kunstarkaeologi, p. 94.
28. Rock, Hierurgia, ii. pp. 285-287 ; Otte, op. cit. i. p. 156 ; Bergner, op. cit.
p. 355. The relic-plates described in what follows should not be confused
with the diptychs in which the saint-calendar was recorded.
29. Laib und Schwarz, op. cit. p. 68 ; Bergiier, op. cit. p. 264 ; Enlart in La
Grande Encyclopedic, xxviii. p. 493.
492 THE SACKED SHEINE
30. Of. Otte, op. cit. i. pp. 109, 110, 113 ; Aspelin, Siipialttarit, pp. 17-18,
57-58, 107 ; Meinander, Medeltida altarskap, p. 99 ; Wallem, De islandslce
Mr Jeers udstyr i Middelalderen, pp. 51-52, 54.
31. According to Meinander's ingenious theory the wings of the altar-cabinet
have developed from the velaria round ancient ciboria. Even in this author's
opinion, however, both "the architectonic erection and the embellishment with
figures were borrowed from reliquaries and retabula," op. cit. pp. 97, 103, and
98-102.
CHAPTEE V
1. Of. e.g. Leprieur i Michel, Histoire de I'art, i, 1. p, 412. Illustrations and
descriptions of the most famous of these votive crowns are given also in Par-
mentier, Album historique, i. pp. 34 and 69.
2. 1 Cor. xi. 24-25 ; Philipp. iii. 14 ; 2 Tim. iv. 7-8 ; Hebr. xii. 1 ; 1 Peter
v. 4 ; James i. 12 ; Bev. ii. 10, iii. 11. Pictorial representations of this idea
are often met with in earlier Christian art, e.g. in the great nave mosaic in San
Apollinare Nuovo at Ravenna, where the martyrs, men on one side and women
on the other, Avalk in solemn procession towards the choir, each with his crown
in his hand. Of. also the fresco in Domitilla's Catacombs, and the mosaics in
S. Cosma e Damiano, in S. Lorenzo fuori le mura, in S. Prassede e Pudenziana
(all at Kome), and in S. Giovanni in Fonte at Eavenna. For information about
other pictures of martyrs, receiving crowns from Christ or offering them to Him,
see Kaufmann, JZandbuch, pp. 426-427.
3. Barbier de Montault, Iconographie chre'tienne, i. p. 43.
4. Eohault de Fleury, La Messe, v. pp. 101-115.
5. Cf. the utterances about the altar as a place for Christ's body, collected by
Rock, Hierurgia, ii. pp. 297-298.
6. Rock, The Church of our Fathers^ i. p. 35. Auber, Histoire du
symbolisme, iii. p. 263.
7. Koestlin, Qeschichte des christlichen Gottesdienstes, pp. 75-76.
8. A picture of this altar (which was originally erected in the church of S.
Bartholomew, and is now kept in Das Grosse Garten Museum at Dresden) is
given in Bergner's Handbuch, p. 262.
9. The comparison between the altar and Christ's grave is often found in
mediaeval liturgists. Amalarius of Metz, who lived as early as the ninth
century, returns time after time to this thought. Cf. De ecclesiasticis officiis,
Pair. Lat. cv. cols. 1144, 1154, 1155 ; JSclogae de officio mi$sae t Patr. Lat.
cv. cols. 1325-1326 ( "Ecce habes hie tumulum Christi quern conspicis aram ").
These expressions perhaps refer to the table-surface rather than to the altar-
chest. But it is impossible strictly to maintain the distinction between these
two parts of the altar.
10. On the Eucharist as the absolute ruler of the altar - table cf.
Barthelemy's notes to Durand's ^Rational, i. p. 325.
11. Gezo Abbas Dertonensis, Liber de corpore et sanguine Christi (Patr. Lat.
cxxxvii. col. 402). The same legend is found, quoted from Odo of Cluny, in
Viollet le Due's Dictionnaire de V architecture, ii. pp. 16-17.
12. For the consecration of these stone plates and their introduction into
the surface of the altar, cf. Atz, Die christliche %unst % pp. 17-18.
13. Hugo de S. Victore [?], Speculum ecclesiae (Patr. Lat. clxxvii col. 340) ;
Sicardus Cremonensis, Mtirale, L. i. caps. 7 and 9 (Patr. Lat. ccxiii. cols.
FOTES TO CHAP. V 493
32 and 35) ; Durand, national (French translation), i. p. 117 ; Daniel, Codex
liturgicus, i. p. 377.
14. Of. Bion, Le Monde de I'eucTiaristie, p. 9.
15. La Bouillerie, Symbolisme de la nature, p. 67.
16. "Ipsum vides, ipsum tangis, ipsum comedis," S. Johannes Chrysos-
tomus, ffomil. 83 in Matth., quoted by Bion, op. cit. p. 35.
17. Innocent III., De sacro altarismysterio (Pair. Lot. ccxvii. cols. 833-834) ;
Sicardus Gremonensis, Mitrale (Patr. Lat. ccxiii. col. 91). In the Roman
Mass-ritual adopted at the Council of Trent, express reference is made to the
memorial element in the Mass (Daniel, Codex liturgies, i. p. 76).
18. Albertus Magnus, quoted by Koestlin, Geschichte des christlichen
GottesdiensteS) p. 101 ; Martinus von Cochem, Srkl&rung des heiligen Messopfers,
pp. 5-7, 70-72 ; Broussolle, TMorie de la messe, p. 164.
19. The Koman Mass differs in this respect from the Greek-Catholic altar
service, which is so distinctively theatrical in character that some writers have
even thought that survivals of the Greek heathen ritual-drama could be traced
in it. Cf. Koestlin, op. cit. p. 62 ; Barfoed, Altar og Prcedikestol, p. 361.
20. Cf. Sauer, SymboliJc des Kirchengebaudes, p. 39 ; also Barthelemy in the
introduction to Durand's Rational, i. p. xxviii.
21. In Isidorus's De officiis ecclesiasticis (Patr. Lat. Ixxxiii. cols. 752 seq.\ none
of the symbolical interpretations, so universal at a later time, are yet intro-
duced. On the other hand, the symbolising element appears in an explana-
tion of the Mass ascribed to Bishop Germanus of Paris (JSxpositio brews liturgiae t
Patr. Lat. Ixxii. cols. 89-98). This work, however, forms an exception in
Western literature of that period. Cf. Franz, Die Messe, p. 340. For Ama-
larius and his Mass-doctrine, see Franz, op. cit. pp. 351 seq. Amalarius's exposi-
tion was opposed by his enemy, the deacon Florus, and at the Synod of Kierzy
(838) was declared heretical.
22. Honorius Augustodunensis, Gemma animae (Patr. Lat. clxxii. col. 570).
Similar utterances are found in Sicardus Cremonensis, Mitrale (Patr. Lat.
ccxiii. cols. 144-148). Some isolated remarks about divine service as a "theatre "
for the pious are to be met with as early as Tertullian (De spectaculis, xxix, and
xxx.), also in Johannes Damascenus (Parallel, iii. 47), quoted in Ancona's
Origini del teatro italiano, i. pp. 12-14.
23. Sicardus Cremonensis, Mitrale (Patr. Lat. ccxiii. cols. 144 seq.)*
24. Honorius Augustodunensis, Gemma animae (Patr. Lat. clxxii. col. 544),
" Episcopus de sacrario ornatus procedit, et Christus de utero Virginis decore
indutus tamquam sponsus de thalamo procedit. " The same thought occurs in
Hugo de S. Victore [?], Speculum ecclesiae (Patr. Lat. clxxvii. col. 357) ;
Sicardus Cremonensis, Mitrale (Patr. Lat. ccxiii. col. 92) ; Durand, Rational,
i. p, 27, ii. p. 42. Cf. also Sauer, Symbolik des Kirchengebaudes, p. 213.
25. Durand, op. cit. i. p. 215, ii. pp. 21-22, 49-50.
26. Sicardus, Mitrale (Patr. Lat. ccxiii. cols. 144-148).
27. Innocent III., De sacro altaris mysterio (Patr. Lat. ccxvii. cols. 815 and
894) ; Durand, op. cit. ii. pp. 101, 310.
28. Sicardus, Mitrale (Patr. Lat. ccxiii. cols. 144 sgq.).
29. For a more exact exposition of the mediaeval liturgists' explanation of all
these points, see Ancona, Origini del teatro italiano, i. pp. 21-22. Cf. also the
quotations given by the modern writer Durand (not to be confused with the
famous author of the Rational), Trteor liturgig/ue des fideles, pp. 27, 33, 44,
51, 53-54, 59.
494 THE SACEED SHEINE
30. Huysmans, En route, p. 257. At the French " military masses" the
elevation of the Sacrament was still during the last century accompanied by the
beating of drums and blowing of trumpets (Broussolle, Thforie de la messe,
p. 144).
31. Durand, Tr&or liturgique des fiddles, pp. 60 and 65 ; cf. also Robertus
Paululus, Appendix ad Hugonis de 8. Victore opera (Pair. Lat. clxxvii. col. 435).
32. Amalarius, De ecclesiastics offidis (Patr. Lat. cv. col. 1144). Edogae
de officio missae (ibid. col. 1327) ; Honorius Augustodunensis, Gemma animae
(Patr. Lat. clxxii. col. 558) ; Sicardus Cremonensis, Mitrale (Patr. Lat. ccxiii.
col. 134) ; Innocent III., De sacro altaris mysterio (Patr. Lat. ccxvii. col. 895) ;
Durand, Rational, ii. p. 366.
33. Cf. besides the authors just quoted, Speculum Missae, in " Svenska kyrko-
bruk," esp. p. 89 (Sv, Fornskr-Sallsk. Saml.) ; Durand, Tr&or liturgique des
fiddles, p. 67 ; Huysmans, La Cathddrale, pp. 161-162 ; Barfoed, Altar og
PrcediJcestol, p. 376 ; Sauer, op. cit. p. 199.
34. Durand, Rational^ ii. p. 177 ; Rock, ffierurgia, i. pp. 107-108 ; Durand,
Tre'sor liturgique des fideles, p. 21 ; Renault de Fleury, La Messe, vi. pp. 172-174,
194 ; Sauer, op. cit. p. 201.
35. Gueranger, L'Anne'e liturgique, ii. 2, pp. 58 seq. ; Martinus von Cochem,
ErUarung des heiligen Messopfers, pp. 54-55.
36. Durand, National, iv. p. 108 ; Sauer, op. cit. pp. 158 seq.
37. Durand, Rational, ii. pp. 69-70, 90, 102, 402, 406 ; Durand, Trtsor
liturgique des fiddles, pp. 33, 44, 51, 53. The same thought is expressed by
the way in which the deacons walk up to their desks on one side, and down on
the other side. Innocent III., De sacro altaris mysterio (Patr. Lat. ccxvii.
col. 823). For the symbolical ideas connected with the north and south sides of
the church, see Gherit van der Goude, Bat jBoexken van der Missen, p. 29
(Percy Dearmer's explanations).
38. Cf. Chambers, The Mediaeval Stage t ii, pp. 4 seq.
39. Cf. the facts cited by Cohen, Histoire de la mise en scene dans le thtdtre
religieux frangais, pp. 19-23. Detailed information and a rich bibliography of
the occasional "Easter-graves" are given in Chambers, op. cit. ii. pp. 16-20.
For completion of these, see Rock, The Church of our Fathers, iii. p. 76, iv. pp.
277 seq. ; and Dale, The Sacristan's Manual, p. 67. For a Swedish Easter-grave
erected during the Middle Ages in the Cathedral at TJpsala, see Hildebrand,
Sveriges Medeltid, iii. p. 563. For other Swedish Easter-graves, ibid. pp. 647,
648.
40. It is not impossible, however, that the simple forms of a dramatic liturgy
in many cases survived by the side of the developed dramas (Meyer, Wilhelm,
Fragmenta Burana, p. 32, in Festschrift d. K. Ges. d, "Wissensch. Gottingen,
Phil. -hist. Cl. 1901).
41. Best known is the narrative of Brother John, who fell down as though dead
after uttering the words of consecration (Fioretti, cap. 53). Petrus Celestinus,
the unhappy Pope against his own will, had before his elevation felt unworthy
of celebrating Mass. Cf. Hello, Physionomies de saints, p. 72. S. Filippo
N"eri, when he stood at the altar, was seized by such devotion that he could
with difficulty collect his thoughts for the necessary ceremonies. JjzJrgensen,
Romerske H&lgenHUeder t pp. 174, 194-195. See also the stories of S. Thomas
de Villanova ; Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, x. p. 343 (Sept. 22).
NOTES TO CHAP. VI 495
CHAPTER VI
1. Of. Witting, Die Anfange christlicher Architektur, pp. 24-25, 29 seq. t
48-56, 69-89. Witting's argument should be compared with Zestermann's
theory advanced in 1847 (cf. the summary in Otte's Handbuch, i p. 277, and
Kaufmann, Handbuch, p. 146).
2. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, i. p. 9.
3. The mystery is so terribly great that a man cannot retain his senses even
when trying to explain it. Thus, Innocent III. says, when, in his commentary
on the Mass, he begins the chapter on the consecration: "Deficit lingua,
sermo disparet, superatur ingenium, opprimitur intellectus," De sacro altaris
mysterio (Patr. Lat. ccxvii. col. 851). This phrase has been transcribed word
for word by Durand in his national, without giving its source (Rational,
ii. p. 227).
Among modern writers there is reason to quote Yianey, the pious "cure
d'Ars," who absolutely thought that a man could not survive a complete insight
into the altar-mystery. " If one knew what the Mass is," he used often to say,
"one would die, yes, one would die of love and gratitude" (cf. Durand,
Trtsor liturgique desfideles, p. 25).
4. Caumont, Ab&ddaire, p. 116 ; Otte, Ifandbuch, i. p. 102; Kraus, Gfeschichte
der christlichen Kunsl, i. p. 155. Although, as Otte and Kraus assert, during
the first centuries the use of chalices made of wood or of clay was permitted,
yet it should be stated that even during the primitive period of Christianity
a special Church industry had arisen. Cf. Renan, S. Paul, p. 266 ; Marc-
Aurele, p. 546. According to modern research the costly gold glasses found
in catacombs, and spoken of by earlier authors as liturgical vessels, have
nothing to do with the Mass (cf. Schultze, Archaologie t p. 310). A short his-
tory of the ordinances concerning Mass-vessels and Mass-apparel is given by
Honorius Augustodunensis in Gemma animae (Patr. Lat. clxxii. col. 574).
5. For pictures and descriptions of altar- vessels, see Renault de Fleury, La
Messe, iv. pp. 46-47, 75, 102, 125 ; also the often-quoted handbooks of Otte,
Kraus, and Bergner. Cf. also Tikkanen, Nattvardskalken i org& domkyrka,
in Ateneum, i. 1902 ; also, with reference to the same gem of the goldsmith's
art, Aspelin, Suomalaisen taiteen historia, p. 23. For Swedish chalices cf.
Hildebrand, Swriges Medeltid, iii pp. 649-667.
6. Laib und Schwarz, SLudien, p. 58 ; Otte, op. at. L pp. 102-103. Otte
quotes some verses from the younger Titurel :
Sammet der grune gewebete, geschnitten iiber Ringe,
Ob jeden Altar schwebte fur den Staub."
We transcribe the following note from Meinander's Medeltida altarsMp, p, 93 :
Cf. Bishop Hemming's statutes of the year 1352 : " Tertius quod in Ecclesiis
testitudinatis pannus unus sou vestis inter altare et testudinem superius exten-
datur, propter immunditias removendas." Porthan, Opera selecta, i. p. 248.
7. Atz, Die cbristliche Kwnst, p. 14.
8. Cf. Dale, The Sacristan's Manual, pp. vi-viii.
9. Acta /Sanctorum, xliv. p. 42 ; Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, x. p. 182
(Sept. 12).
496 THE SACEED SHBINE
10. Speculum perfections, ed. Sabatier, pp. 102 and 105; Sabatier, Vie de
S. Francois, p. 376.
11. Ibid. pp. 118 seq. ; J0rgensen, Den 7iellige Frans, pp. 220-221.
12. Fornici, Institutions liturgiques, p. 41 ; Amalarius, Megula canonicorum
collecta (Pair. Lat. cv. col. 881 ; references to Sixtus's Pontifical Book
and the Council of Laodicea). For further references, and for ethnological
parallels to the exclusion of women from holy places, see Westermarck, The
Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas, i. pp. 664-66.
13. Durand, Rational, ii. p. 178.
14. Sabatier, Fie de S. Francois d'Assise, p. 180 (reference to Acta Sanctorum) ;
Jjtfrgensen, Den hellige Frans, p. 106.
15. Of. Viollet le Due, Dictionnaire de I 1 architecture, ii. p. 21. As regards the
form of the altar, people were guilty of great offences against the strict prin-
ciples of style, especially during the rococo period.
16. Concerning flowers on the altar-table, of. Binterim, Denkwurdigkeiten, iv.
pp. 1 seq. ; Laib und Schwarz, Studien, pp. 45 and 77 ; Essays on Ceremonial by
Various Authors, pp. 67, 103 seq. (Legg, On some Ancient Liturgical Customs).
17. It is significant that, according to the modern Church usage, the relics are
removed from the altar at the times when the Sacrament is exposed (Esser,
"Keliquien" in Wetzer-Welte's Kirchenlexikon, xi. p. 1040).
18. Durand, Rational, ii. p. 177 ; Sauer, SymbolikdesKirchengebdudes, p. 168.
19. For the embellishment of the gospel-books, cf. the rich information col-
lected by Sauer, op. cit. p. 178.
20. The Catholic doctrine of symbols, according to which the different stones
represented definite Christian virtues or holy persons, probably had its influence
on the use of crystals and diamonds in the Church's art. Cf. Birgitta,
Uppenbarelser, ii. pp. 220-222 ; La Bouillerie, Synibolisme de la nature, i. pp.
185-218 ; Otte, op. cit. ii. p. 869 ; Huysmans, La-las, p. 422 (citation from
Giambattista Porta).
21. The candle -sticks were probably stationed, until the fourteenth cen-
tury, on the floor in front of the altar. Only from the beginning of this
century did they get a place on the Mass-table itself. Cf. Laib und Schwarz,
Studien, p. 62 ; Hildebrand, Sveriges Med<id, iii. p. 555. On the symbolism of
the candelabra, see Innocent III., De sacro altaris tnysterio (Patr. Lat. ccxvii.
col. 811) ; Durand, Rational, i. p. 54 ; Augusti, Denkwiirdigkeiten, i. p. 117 ;
Sauer, Sijmbolik des l&rchengebaudes, p. 177. According to Bergner (Handbuch,
p. 338), the candles were placed on the altar to commemorate the fact that it
was night when the holy meal was instituted. Such an interpretation, which
would harmonise well with the old painters' way of indicating the time of the
holy mystery at Bethlehem by means of a lighted candle, does not find much,
support in the writings of the earlier authors. From the extracts from Patristic
literature given in Barthelemy's notes to Durand (Rational, ii. pp. 442-
446), the lighted candles seem usually to have been interpreted as signs of joy
at the divine light. It is said that there was a precedent for the custom in
Jewish ritual. Finally, it should be mentioned that the light itself, in Catholic
symbolism, represents Christ (Durand, op. cit. i. p. 28, iv. pp. 418-430 ; cf.
the explanations of the ritual at Baptism, Candlemas, and Easter, given in Dom
Gue"ranger's L'Ann&e liturgique, and in Sauer, op. cit. pp. 181-191).
22. Rupertus Tuitiensis, Dedivinis officiis (Patr. Lat. clxx. col. 171). Cf. for
the purity of the wax Ivo'Carnotensis (Yves de Chartres), Sermones (Patr. Lat.
clxii. col. 576). Other examples are mentioned by Sauer, op. cit. p. 1.87.
NOTES TO CHAR VI 497
23. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, L p. 157.
24. Ibid. i. pp. 143-151, 159-171, 219 ; ii. p. 118 ; in. pp. 13, 257 ; Honorius
Augustodunensis, JBlucidarium (Pair. Lat. clxxii. col. 1130).
25. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, ii. pp. 112, 118-19 ; Honorius Augustodunensis,
Mucidarium, col. 1130, "unde a pessimis non pejoratur, et ab opttmis non
melioratur ; sicut solis radius a coeno cloacae non sordidatur, nee a sanctuario
splendificatur." This passage is transcribed word for word, without citing
the source, by Durand (Rational, ii. p. 266). The same idea is expressed
in " Freidanks Bescheidenheit " :
" Was der Priester mag begehen,
Der Messe Eeinheit bleibt bestehen ;
Man kann in keinen Sachen
Sie schwachen oder besser machen ;
Die Messe und der Sonne Schein
Bleiben immer licht und rein."
Quoted according to FRAXZ, Die Messe, p. 295.
26. Rock, The Church of' our Fathers, ii. pp. 101-104 ; Rohault de Fleury,
La Messe, viii. pp. 167-173 ; Otte, Eandbuch, i. pp. 252-253 ; Kraus, GescMchte
der christlichen E/wnst, i. p. 522 ; ii. p. 502 ; Hildebrand, Sveriges Medeltid,
p. 667. The liturgic combs seem to have survived on Iceland to the later
Middle Age (of. Wallem, De islandske kirkers udstyr, p. 87).
27. Rock, op. cit. iv. pp. 229-234 ; Rohault de Fleury, op. tit. vi. p. 125 ;
Kraus, Realencyklopadie, i. pp. 529-531 ; Durand, according to his wont, tries
to read a deeper meaning into the waving of the fan. This custom, he says,
symbolises the priest's devotion, at which the " flabellum " of the spirit drives
away all unclean thoughts that, like flies, can pollute his pious mind (Rational,
ii. p. 224). For representations of flabella see Sommerard, Les Arts au moyen
dye ; Atlas, ch. xiv. pi. iv., and Album, 9 e serie, p. xvii.
That there was real occasion to protect the Sacrament from the proximity of
insects appears from that chapter in Bishop Anno's biography which relates how
a fly, to the horror of the holy man, snapped up a portion of the Host, which,
however, at Anno's earnest prayers, the creature brought back again (Baring
Gould, Lives of the Saints, xv. p. 46).
According to the selections from ancient patristic literature made by Raible,
Der Tabernakel, p. 26, even during the first centuries care was taken to shield
the Sacrament carefully from the proximity of insects.
28. Braun, Die liturgische Gewandung, pp. 514 seq. ; Rohault de Fleury, op. cit.
pp. 35-47 ; Kraus, Realencyklopttdie, ii. pp. 194-196. For symbolical interpretations
of the purpose of maniples see Sicardus Cremonensis, Mitrale (Pair. Lat.
ccxiii. col. 78) ; Innocentius III., De sacro altaris mysterio (Pair. Lat. ccxvii.
col. 796) ; Durand, Rational, i. pp. 235-238, 268, 434-435.
29. According to Durand, op. cit. i. p. 238, the maniples also could be used to
cover the Jiands, '* out of respect for the holy objects." For the hand veils cf.
Kraus, Realencyklopadie^ ii. p. 105; Atchley, Ordo Romanus primus, p. 30 ; and
the art. " English Ceremonial " in JSssays on Ceremonial, p. 9 ; Matthews, The Mass
and its Folklore, p, 86 (citation from Pellicia as to how the faithful during the
first centuries brought their gifts of Mass-bread to the altar in white linen cloths).
30. Bergner, Handbuch, p. 471 ; Rydbeck, Medeltidakalkmalningar i Sk&nes
kyrkor, p. 23 (triumphal arch in Vinslof church).
31. Cf. the mosaics in S. Cosma e Damiano, S. Praxede, and S. Maria in
498 THE SACEED SHEINE
Domnica all at Rome. Representations, e.g. in Michel, Histoire de I' art) L 1.
pp. 71, 81, 83.
32. Of. e.g. the mediaeval and early Renaissance pictures reproduced in Venturi,
La Madone, pp. 274-276, 279, 286 ; Reinach, Repertoire depeintures, i. pp. 368,
369, 371, 372 ; Broussolle, Le Christ de la Legende dorde, pp. 27 and 51 ;
Bergner, op. cit. p. 482.
33. GaiTUcci, Storia della arte crist'tana, v. tav. 346-349. Quotation in
Kaufmann, Handbuch, p. 505.
34. Kaufmann, op. cit. p. 342. Veiled hands are met with also in some repre-
sentations of the worship of the Magi, and of the angels who receive Mary's
soul (Venturi, op. cit. pp. 254, 388, and 402). In a picture of the Flight into
Egypt in Basilius's Menologium, we see a woman who hastens forward, with her
hands wrapped in a covering, to meet Mary and the Child (illustration in
Detzel, Christlicke Ikonographie, i.'p. 223).
35. For illustration and description of this composition cf. e.g. Schultze,
Archaologie, p. 367. It does not appear probable, however, that the hand veil
was at any time obligatory for all communicants. Thus, in the above-mentioned
picture in the Codex Rossanensis a disciple appears, stretching out his bare
hands to a bowl for bread. The Host is similarly received by an Apostle in the
Communion picture in the S. Gallen Antiphonar (illustration in Bergner,
Handbuch, p. 495). These representations correspond closely to an ordinance in
Cyril's catechism, dating from the fourth century (see Raible, Der Tabemakel,
p. 27). For practical reasons it was more advantageous to use the hand veils in
touching the holy vessels than in receiving the Host. That laymen were
earlier allowed to touch the eucharistic God appears from a resolution of the
Council of Auxerre in the middle of the fifth century, according to which the
women, but. the women only, were forbidden to receive the Sacrament with bare
hands (cf. Westermarck, The Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas, i.
p. 666). The later liturgical development has made all such statutes superfluous.
At the modern Catholic communion, as is well known, the wafer is placed by
the priest in the communicant's mouth.
36. Anrich, Das antike Mysterienwesen in seinem Mnfiuss auf das Christen-
tum, pp. 222 seq.
37. Palladius, Historia Lausiaca, ca^. 143 (Patr. Graeca, xxxiv. col. 1246),
quoted by Lucius, HeiligenJcult, p. 359.
38. Schultze, Archdologie, p. 126, resolutions of several Councils set
forth. For the more liberal ordinances of later periods see Dale, The Sacris-
tan's Manual, p. vi ; cf. also Ivo Carnotensis (Yves de Chartres), Sermones
(Patr. Lat. clxii. col. 515).
39. Barbier de Montault, Le Costume et Us usages eccttsiastiques, i. pp. 151-156.
40. For the washing of hands before Mass cf. Daniel, Codex liturgicus, i. p.
114 ; Fornici, Institutions liturgiques, p. 83 ; Rock, jffi&rurgia, i. p. 114, It
should not be concealed that the washing was interpreted by the mediaeval
ritualists as a symbolic act, referring to the purification of the soul. Cf. Amalarius,
De ecclesiastics officiis (Patr. Lat. cv. col. 1143) ; Honorius Augustodunensis,
Gemma animae (Patr. Lat. clxxii. col. 558 and 587) and Sacramentarium
(Patr. Lat. clxxii. col. 794) ; Duraud, National, i. p. 27 ; ii. p. 174 j cf. also
Koestlin, Geschichte des christlichen Gottesdienstcs, p. 55, on the formulae of
the apostolic constitutions for vpo<r<f>op<L (A server brings the priest water, with
which he rinses his hands to symbolise the purity of the souls dedicated to
God.)
NOTES TO CHAP. VI 499
41. Reproductions of these implements in Hildebrand, Sveriges MedeUid, iii.
pp. 537-539.
42. Durand, Rational, ii. pp. 298-299 ; Martene, De antiques ecdesiae ritibus,
i. pp. 653-673. It is asserted, however, by ecclesiastical writers that the
eucharistic God could not suffer any detriment from being thus wasted. Of. Gui-
bertus de Novigento (Guibert de Nogent), De pignoribus Sanctorum (Pair. Lett.
clvi. cols. 635-643) ; Durand, op. tit. ii. p. 279. Just as the Mass was not
profaned if celebrated by an unworthy priest, so the body of the Highest was
not exposed to any danger from an unworthy handling. It was, we imagine,
primarily for their own sates that men were expected to observe an outer
reverence and respect with regard to the Holy of holies.
43. Rock, The Church of our Fathers, i. pp. 128-132; Kraus, Geschichte der
kirchlichen Kunst, ii. 1, p. 474 ; Bergner, Handbuch, pp. 320-321. When the
communicants drank out of a chalice, they were often offered, after the com-
munion, water " ad puriticationem oris. "
Fear of wasting the wine seems also to have influenced the directions as to
the material of chalices. Thus we read in Sieardus Cremonensis, Mitrale
(Patr. Lat. ccxiii. col. 55), " Debet esse calix . . . nonde vitro, quia cum sit
frangibile, effusionis periculum immineret ; non de ligno, quoniam cum sit
porosum corpus, et spongiosum, sanguinem absorberet." Cf. note 4 in the fore-
going. The same idea is expressed by Durand, Rational, i. pp. 62-63.
44. Durand, op. cit. ii. pp. 519-520 (Barthelemy's notes) ; Stanley, Christian
Institutions, p. 94.
45. It is significant that the priests on board vessels celebrate a ' ' missa sicca,"
i.e. an altar-service without the consecration and communion, for it is feared
that the sea will cause the wine to be spilled out of the chalice (Durand,
Rational^ ii. p. 13 ; Benedictus XIV., Commentarii, p. 177).
46. Durand, op. tit. ii. p. 400.
47. Frere, Religious Ceremonial, p. iii (quotation from " Use of Sarum ") ;
Benedictus XIV., Commentarii, p. 108. Even into this simple gesture Durand
seeks to read a symbolic meaning (Rational, ii. p. 311).
The danger of the crumbling of the Host was naturally all the greater at the
time when soft bread was generally used at Mass. It is probable that the stiff
wafers were introduced because they could more easily be broken without any
part of the Host being wasted.
48. Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, iv. p. 19 (April 7).
49. Over this basin were also burned pieces of cloth that had been stained by
the sacred blood. Hildebrand, Sveriges MedeUid, iii. p. 535, gives some notable
extracts on this point from Archbishop Nils Ragnvaldsson's collection of Church
ordinances. These ordinances closely correspond with the prescriptions in
Durand's book (of. Rational, ii, p. 296).
60. Didron, quoted by Rohault de Fleury, La Messe, iii. p. 143. For the
double washing-stands cf. Caumont, Abectdaire, pp. 303 and 619 ; Enlart,
Manuel d'archfologie, i. p. 750. For the pipes from the washing-basin see
Hildebrand, Sveriges MedeUid, iii. pp. 311-312. It is worth mentioning that in
Catholic churches other pipes were sometimes introduced to carry the baptismal
water from the font to the consecrated ground underneath the church. In the
Greek Church the baptismal water was regularly poured out in the churchyard
(Barfoed, Altar og Prcedikestol, pp. 276 and 384).
51. Daniel, Codex liturgicus, i. p. 106 (Ordo Rornanus XXVIII. "abluit
digitos, extergit et sumit ablutionem") ; Schneider, Manuale sacerdotum, p. 355.
500 THE SACEED SHKINE
According to Barthelemy's notes to Durand, Rational, ii. p. 403, the drinking
of the washing water was ordained as early as 1212 by Innocentius III., i.e.
fifteen or sixteen years after Innocentius wrote the earlier mentioned treatise on
the Mass-ritual. The custom had then already existed in some monastic
orders. This custom naturally caused the double washing-basins to be regarded
as superfluous (cf. also Sauer, Symbolik des Kirchengebdudes, p. 138).
52. Rohault de Fleury, La Messe, iii. p. 143.
53. Viollet le Due, Dictionnaire de I' architecture, vii. p. 198.
54. A brilliant and apt, if too subtle a commentary on this work of sculpture
is given by Vernon'Lee in her essay, "Art and Usefulness," Contemporary
Review, 1901, pp. 368-370.
CHAPTEE VII
1. Of. Thomas Aquinas's sequence :
Caro cibus, sanguis potus ;
Manet tamen Christus totus
Sub utraque specie.
2. The older Lutherans were, as appeared in the famous dispute in Sweden
in the sixteenth century, as rigorous in this respect as the Catholics. See
Schuck, Svensk literaturhistoria, i. pp. 253-254.
3. During early Christian times the communicants brought the Communion
bread with them to the churches. For the care with which this bread was
prepared in their homes, see Daniel, Codex liturgicus, iv. p. 385. For the
strict demands made during the Middle Ages with regard to the quality of
the bread, see Durand, Rational, ii. p. 293.
4. Daniel, op. cit. iv. p. 385. Summary of the same text, Durand, op. cit.
ii. p. 488 (Barthelemy's notes) ; Rohault de Fleury, La Messe, iv. pp. 38-39 ;
Barfoed, Altar og Prcedikestol, p. 378 ; and Huysmans, La Cathddrale, pp. 287-
288. For further information about the preparation of wafers see Martene,
De antiquis ecclesiae ritibus, i. pp. 315-320 ; Durand, op. cit. ii. p. 22 ; and
Rock, The Church of our Fathers, i. p. 124 (Anglo-Saxon and the early English
ordinances concerning the sacred baking).
5. Otte, Eandbuch, i. p. 177.
6. Speculum perfectionis, ed. Sabatier, p. 120. In a note Sabatier has
collected a number of examples of that worship of the Host which in the case of
S. Francis was the expression is by no means too strong "Tame de sa
piete."
For a description and reproduction of one of S. Francis's wafer-moulds,
preserved at Greccio, see J0rgensen, Pilgrimsbogen, pp. 78 sg, Cf. also
J^rgensen, Den hellige Frans, p. 23.
7. Laib und Schwarz, Studien, p. 26, quotation from Johannes Chrysostomus ;
Raible, Der Tabernakel, p. 39 ; Durand, Rational, ii. p. 245. For a discussion of
the ancient statements that the altar was hidden during the consecration, see
Laib und Schwarz, op. cit. pp. 25-26 j Otte, op, cit. i. p. 259 ; Rohault de Fleury,
op. cit. i. p. 54 ; Frere, Principles of Religious Ceremonial, pp. 69, 88-89, 285 ;
Sauer, Symbolik de$ JZirchengebaudes, p. 172.
One may suppose that the concealing of the act of consecration had its basis
to some extent in the same fear that led the priest to utter the words of con-
STOTES TO CHAP. YII 501
secration in a low tone. For it was thought that laymen also, by imitating the
ritual, could perform the eucharistic miracle, and thus transform ordinary bread
into God's body. Those who ventured on so heathen an imitation of the holy
action were severely punished for their audacity. Cf. the anecdotes recorded in
Barthelemy's notes to Durand, Rational, ii. pp. 499-501, and in Stanley's
Christian Institutions, pp. 65 seq. (quotation from Moschus's Pratum spirituale).
For chronological information as to the development of the custom of reading
parts of the canon with inaudible voice, see Frere, op. cit. p. 287.
Whatever may have been the motive for the introduction of the altar-curtains,
this arrangement must have powerfully emphasised the miraculousness and
mysteriousness of the transformation.
8. Laib und Schwarz, Studien, p. 23.
9. Binterim, DenJcwilrdigkeiten, ii. 2, pp. 148 and 172 ; Caumont, Ab6c6daire,
pp. 573-574 ; Viollet le Due, Dictionnaire du mobilier, i. p. 251 ; Laib und
Schwarz, op. cit. pp. 27 seq. ; Otte, op. cit. pp. 179 seq. ; Rohault de Fleury, op.
cit. v. p. 78 ; Kraus, Oesch. d. christl. Kunst, ii. pp. 465-466 ; Sommerard, Les
Arts au moyen Age ; Atlas, ch. xiv. pi. iii
10. Barfoed, Oldkirkens liturgier, p. 33.
11. Viollet le Due, Dictionnaire du mobilier, i. p. 253.
12. Rock, The Church, of our Fathers, iv. p. 304.
13. Huysmaus, La Cathtdrale, p. 266 (description of the monastic church at
Solesmes). In the Cathedral of Amiens, in accordance with a tradition five
hundred years old, the Sacrament is still exhibited in a dove that hangs above
the altar. Raible, Der Tabernakel, pp. 148 seq.
14. Hope, English Altars from Illuminated Manuscripts, pis. x.-xi.
15. Gherit van der Goude, Dot Boexken van der Missen, ed. Dearmer, p. 60
(reference to the resolution of the Council of Soissons in 1404 as to the erection
of screens around the altar, that the priest may not be disturbed by the
onlookers) ; Laib und Schwarz, op. cit. p. 57.
16. The circumstance that it was only by hearing, i.e. by perceiving the
priest's words, that it was known that God had concealed Himself in the wafer,
gave rise to a curious symbolisation among the mediaeval interpreters of the
Mass. A reference to the altar-miracle was found in the Mosaic narrative of
Isaac, who blessed Jacob instead of Esau. The old man, it is said, was deceived
by his eyes, for he did not recognise the disguised impostor, and he was deceived
by his sense of smell, which told Mm the scent of Esau's clothes. Even his
touch failed him, when he thought he was touching Esau's rough hands ; but
his hearing did not lead him astray when he said, " The voice is the voice of
Jacob." In the same way the pious ought to rely only on their ears, and when
they hear the priest's words, think with all their might that the bread is God's
body. Jacobus de Voragine, Legenda aurea, p. 931 ("Legendae a quibusdam
aliis superadditae ") ; Broussolle, Th&riede la messe, p. 48.
17. Thomas Aquinas, Lauda Sion and Pange lingua.
18. In some mediaeval churches the eucharistic dove was connected by a chain
with a bell on the outer wall of the church, which rang every time the Host-
shrine ascended or descended above the altar. Eock, The Church of our Fathers,
iv. ppi 240-241. As earlier mentioned, the elevation of the Sacrament was in
some places accompanied by a ringing in the bell- towers (cf. Chap. V.). During
the days of sorrow before Easter the Mass-bells are replaced by wooden rattles
or by hammers that are struck upon a board. For symbolical interpretations
of these signals cf. Sauer, Symbolik des JZirchengebaudes, pp. 151-152.
502 THE SACKED SHRINE
19. Schneider, Manuale sacerdotum, p. 346.
20. Exodus xxviii. 33-35. Of. Dietrichson, KirJcelig Kunstarkaeologi, p. 125.
As corresponding to these sacred sound-signals, we might quote the handbells
of the Egyptian priests of Osiris, the Roman "tintinnabula," and the small
bells with which the Brahmans at their services invoke the god's attention.
21. For the development of the elevation ceremony see Benedictus XIV.,
De sacrificio missae, p. 103 ; Root, Hierurgm, i. pp. 132-133 ; Frere, Religious
Ceremonial, pp. 94-95, 135 ; Legg, Ewlesiological Essays, p. 43.
22. Martin von Cochem, Erklarung des heiligen Messoyfers, p. 190.
23. For the influence of the elevation-ceremony upon the mind of the faithful
cf. e.g. Jjzfrgensen, Den Jiellige Frans, p. 45, and Gueranger, L'Annte liturgique,
iii. p. 40. A noteworthy description of the exhibition of the Host is to be
found in Wackenroder's Herzensergiessungen eines fcunstliebenden Klosterbruders,
pp. 187-189. The author of this description, a fictitious German painter of the
time of Albrecht Diirer, receives so powerful an impression from the holy rite
that he instantaneously becomes a Catholic.
Franz, Die Messe, pp. 22-23, mentions some characteristic ordinances, dating
from the end of the fourteenth century, as to the devotion with which the
elevated Host ought to be regarded. Special prayers were recommended or
rather short pious invocations to be said at the moment (The Lay Folks
Mass Book, pp. 40 seq., 285 seq. } 367 seq.). In Hope's English\ Altars from
Illuminated Manuscripts, pi. v., an interesting manuscript illustration is
given, representing Edward the Confessor and his suite doing homage with
reverential gestures to the uplifted Host.
24. Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, ix. p. 303.
25. We have not succeeded in finding this miracle in any of the old biographies
of the Jesuit General. The legend is probably derived from the imagination of
modern devotional writers.
26. Bion, Le Monde de I'eucharistie, p. 101.
27. Cf. the narratives in regard to Germaine Cousin (Baring Gould, Lives
of the Saints, vi. p. 216) and S. Maria Francesca (Shapcote, Legends of the
Sacrament, p. 146).
28. Bion, op. cit. p. 102.
29. Ibid. p. 101. A similar miracle is told of Maurice de Sully, who was
Bishop of Paris during the twelfth century (Durand, Rational, ii. p. 269).
30. Shapcote, op. cit. pp. 105-106 ; Huysmans, Mn route, p. 328.
81. Cf. the stories as to the increased power of the senses in the saints, given
by Ribet, Mystique divine, ii. pp. 560-570. It is said of Anna Katharina
Emmerich that she was able to distinguish consecrated and unconsecrated
objects, that she felt herself "magnetically attracted" to relics, and that she
could decide from which saints various fragments of bone had come (Clemens
Brentano in his introduction to A. K. Emmerich's Das bittere Leiden unseres
Herrn, p. 5). Similar stories are told of Sibyllina of Pavia, Ida of Louvain,
and Louise Lateau (Huysmans, En route, p. 209).
32. Cf. Sabatier, S. Francois d'Assise, p. Ixxxvii (reference to an anecdote
in Bonaventura's Vita, which is not related in the earlier biographies of S.
Francis. )
33. Cf. the miracles related in Mussafia, Marienlegenden, i. pp. 17-18, 20 ; ii.
p. 59, pp. 20 and 43.
34. Broussolle, Le Christ de la ttgende dorfa, p. 223 (reference to a fresco in
S. Giovanni-in-Argentella). In Jacobus de Voragine's story of the meeting of
NOTES TO CHAP. VII 503
Bernard and the Duke of Aquitaine no mention is made of the latter's horse
(cf. Legenda aurea, p. 536). Similarly this miracle is unknown to Ernaldus
Bonevallensis, who in his life of Bernard gives a detailed description of his
strife with Duke William (Bernardi Vita in Pair. Lat. clxxxv. col. 290 ; see
also Ett fornsvenskt legendarium, pp. 785-786).
35. Liber miraculorum S. Antonii de Padua in Ada sanctorum, xxiii. p. 217 ;
Broussolle, op. cit. p. 223.
The most notable representations of this legend are Donatello's relief in
II Santo at Padua, a painting by Campagnola in the same church, a minia-
ture in the Codex Grimani at Venice, and an altar-piece by Van Dyck at Malines.
36. Bion, op. cit. p. 72.
37. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, iii. p. 203.
38. Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, iii. p. 299.
39. To this group of legends may be referred the story of the converted Jew,
who saw how the Saviour bled in the priest's hands when the latter broke the
bread at the altar (Gezo, De corpore Christi in Patr. Lat. vol. cxxxvii. coll.
393-395).
40. Broussolle, Le Christ de la Ugende dorde, p. 222.
41. Johannes Magnus, Swea och Gotha Oronika, p. 498. This description is
quoted by Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, ii. pp. 10-11.
42. Acta Sanctorum, vol. viii. pp. 133-134 ; Gezo, De corpore Christi, in Patr.
Lat. vol. cxxxvii. col. 395 ; Jacobus de Voragine, Legenda aurea, pp. 197-198 ;
Ett fornsvenskt legendarium, p. 717.
43. Weigel und Zestermann, Die Anfdnge der Druckerkunst, i. p. 155 ;
Detzel, Christliche Ikonographie, ii. p. 457. In Weigel's work a large number
of old wood-engravings representing the Gregorian Mass are described and re-
produced. The motive seems often to have been used in letters of indulgence.
44. For the iconography of the Mass of Gregory cf. Bergner, Sandbuch,
pp. 546 - 547. For reproductions of northern altar-pieces see Hildebrand,
Sveriges Medeltid, p. 284, and Den kyrkliga konsten, p. 96 ; Altertavler i Dan-
mark, pis. vL, xiv., and Ixii., text pp. 32, 159-160, According to an hypothesis
advanced by Mile, L'Art religieux de la Jin du moyen dge, p. 92, the legend that
Christ Himself appeared -to Gregory had its origin as an interpretation of a
Byzantine devotional picture, preserved in the Church of the Holy Cross at
Rome.
45. As further examples of anthropomorphic visions in the Host might be
quoted the stories told of S. Teresa (Graham, Santa Teresa, p. 173) ; of S. Hugh
of Lincoln and of S. Waltheof (Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, xiv. p. 400,
and ix. p. 30) ; and of B. Maria Colet (Martin Cochem, Messerklarung, p. 72).
Various similar anecdotes are cited by Franz, Die Messe, pp. 5-6 ; Shapcote,
Legends of the Sacrament, p. 79 ; Ribet, Mystique divine, pp. 42 - 43 ; and
Mussafia, Marienlegenden, i. p. 17.
46. Klosterld&ning, pp. 338-339. A shorter summary of the same legend in
Svenska kyrkobruk, p. 44. Cf. also Sabatier, Vie de S. Francois, p. 189, and
Jjrfrgensen, Den hellige Frans, p. 110.
47. Svenska kyrkolruk, p. 44.
48. Bion, Le Monde de Veucharistie, p. 42.
49. Acta Sanctorum, xii. pp. 941-942 (Raymundus Capuensis, Vita S.
Oatharinae Senensis).
50. Broussolle, Le Christ de la Ugende dorte, p. 226. We have not succeeded
in ascertaining from what source Broussolle derives his assertion that the
504 THE SACRED SHKINE
Host flew of itself into Hieronymus's mouth. As this subject is mentioned
in connection with Domenichino's painting in the Vatican, " The Communion
of S. Hieronymus," it is possible that we have to do here with one of the
many legends that have arisen from interpretations of works of art In the
picture in question, as in Agostino Caracci's picture at Bologna, the Host
actually stands upright upon the paten, as though ready to float through the
air. In Eusebius's [?] De morte Sieronymi (Patr. Lot. xxii.), which seems
to have been the basis for the compositions of the Italian painters, nothing
is said of any movement of the Host (of. especially col. 274 on the Saint's
communion).
51. Biori, op. cit. p. 91.
52. Stanley (Christian Institutions, p. 89) advances the hypothesis that the
legends about bleeding Hosts have their origin in a natural phenomenon. It has
been observed, he says, that bread is coloured red by a kind of small insects,
the traces of which are like drops of blood.
53. Of. Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, iii. p. 463.
54. Cf. Baring Gould, op. cit. v. p. 229, and xii. p. 596 ; Bion, Le Monde de
I'tucharistie, p. 72. The most famous of all stories of Hosts which bled under
the knives of the Jews is that of the miracle in the Rue des Billettes in Paris
in 1290. In the Church of S. Jean S. Fra^ois a service is still celebrated for
the atonement of the injury the Sacrament was here exposed to (Huysmans,
Trois eglises et trois primitifs, pp. 118-119). In the Cluny Museum at Paris is
preserved a processional insigne in chased copper, representing the miracle that
took place when a Host which two Jews sought to destroy in boiling water rose
out of the kettle in the form of the Saviour (reproduction of this object in Par-
mentier, Album historique, ii. p. 152). In this connection it is worth mention-
ing the legend of the Jewish boy who, after having taken the sacrament at
Mass, was cast by his father into a burning oven, but was saved by the power
of the Host and the help of the Madonna. This miracle is illustrated in a
thirteenth-century fresco in the cathedral at Orvieto. Gregorius Turonensis,
De gloria martyrum (Patr. Lat. Ixxi. cos., 714-715) ; Broussolle, Le Christ de
la Ugende dwree> p. 221.
55. The miracle of Bolsena was by no means unique of its kind. For other
stories of bleeding Hosts see Broussolle, Thtorie de la messe, pp. 174476.
56. According to popular belief in the Middle Ages, the priests could heal the
sick by touching them with their fingers after handling the Host at Mass.
Kauffmann (Caesarius von Heisterbach, pp. 164-196) gives various examples of
this kind of miracles. Not only the Host, but also the corporale, was thought
to possess a healing power (Franz, Die Messe, pp. 88 and 94). It seems, how-
ever, as if a certain shyness was felt of using the Host for these utilitarian
purposes, for which recourse was preferably had to relics. On the other hand,
the Holy of holies, as is well known, was a powerful means in black magic.
57. At a fire at the Louvre the advance of the flames is said to have been
checked after Bossuet had brought out the Host-shrine. This miracle is said to
have had an influence on Turenne's becoming a Catholic (Shapcote, Legends of
the Sacrament, pp. 115-116).
For the use of the corporale as a fire-sail see Franz, op. cit. p. 88 ; Raible;
Der Tabernafal, p. 178.
NOTES TO CHAPS. VIII-IX 505
CHAPTER VIII
1. Bradbury, The Life of S. Juliana of Oornillon ; Baring Gould, Lives of
the Saints, iv. pp. 76-87 ; Acta Sanctorum, x. pp. 435-475.
2. For more detailed information as to the development of the festival and
the time at which, the procession was introduced, see e.g. Augusti, Denkwur-
digkeiten, iii. pp. 304-311.
3. Binterim, JDenkwurdigkeiten, vi. p. 347 ; Otte, Handbuch, i. p. 256 ;
Bergner, Eandbuch, p. 358. Baldachins are used, when possible, even when
the Sacrament is taken to the sick (cf. e.g, Daniel, Codex liturgicu$ t i. p. 169).
4. Atz, Die christliche Kunst, pp. 227-228.
5. Flaubert, " Un coeur simple " in Trois Contes.
6. Shapcote, Legends of the Sacrament, p. 143 (quotation from S. Alfonso
de Liguori).
7. Cf. Matthews, The Mass and its Folklore, pp. 13, 15, 18, 20, 27, 93, 100 ;
The Lay Folks Mass Book, p. 130.
8. Cf. Gihr, "Aussetzung des AUerheiligsten, " in "Wetzer-Welte's birchen-
lexicon, i. pp. 1713-1716.
9. For the forms of the monstrances cf. Otte, JSandbuch, i. pp. 181-183, ii.
p. 798 ; Bergner, Handbuch, p. 329 ; Kraus, Gfeschichte der christlichen Kunst,
ii, pp. 472-473. One must distinguish from the monstrances the custodia, the
exhibition- tabernacles used in the Spanish Corpus Christi processions (cf. Justi,
"Die Goldschmiedfamilie Arphe" in Zeitschrift fur christliche Kunst, vii. pp.
290-298, and 333-335).
10. For Melchisedek's sacrifice as a prototype of the Mass sacrifice cf. Psalm
ex. 4 (Versio vulgata, cix. 4) ; and Hebrews v. 7 and vii.
11. Ps. xix. 5 (Versio vulgata, xviii. 6) ; Barbier de Montault, Xconographie
chr&ienne, i p. 110.
12. In his treatise Raffaels Disputa, Groner has, by an extensive but, in our
opinion, by no means convincing argument, sought to prove that the Host does
not occupy the centre of the composition. It is not necessary here to dispute
this interpretation. To an unprejudiced observer the Disputa fresco must
appear as it was shortly but aptly characterised by Velasquez in one of his
letters from Rome, namely, as '* the great painting in which theology is har-
monised with philosophy, and 'in the midst of which the Supreme Good stands
upon the altar " (cf. Justi, Velasquez, i. p. 288).
13. For the name of the composition and the interpretations to which this gave
rise see Passavant, Rafael, i. p. 140, and Miintz, Raphael, p. 334.
CHAPTER IX
1. For references to the patristic literature see Binterim, Denkwurdigkeiten,
ii. 2, pp. 134 seq. ; Durand, Rational, i. pp. 334 seq. (Barthelemy's notes) ; Laib
und Schwarz, Studien, pp. 27 seq. ; Otte, Handbuch, i. p. 178 ; Hertkens, Sakra-
mentshauschen, p. 3.
2. Kock, Hierurgia, i. p. 260 ; Binterim, op. cit. ii. 2, p. 99 ; Wiseman,
Fabiola, p. 301 (reference to Ambrosius, De excessu Satyri}.
3. See Acta Sanctorum, xxxvii. p. 201 ; Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, ix.
506 THE SACEED SHEINE
p. 143. Falguiere's statue in the Luxembourg has made the legend of Tharsicius
widely known.
4. Bion, Le Monde de I 'eucharistie, p. 229.
5. Baring Gould, op. cit. i. p. 453.
6. Cf. Laib und Schwarz, op. cit. p. 27.
7. Thiers, Trait4 del' exposition duS. Sacramentdel'autel, passim; Binteritn,
op. cit. ii. 2, p. 134 ; Rohault de Fleury, La Messe, v. p, 59 ; Otte, op. cit. i.
pp. 177-178.
8. Cf. Schultze's criticism of the information given in earlier literature as to
eucharistic vessels of the first centuries (Archaologic der altchristlichen Kunst>
pp. 275 and 310). See also Raible, Der Tabernakel, p. 67.
9. Rock, The Church of our Fathers, iv. p. 240.
10. This etymology is advanced by Otte, op. cit. i. p. 180, and adopted by
Bergner, Handbuch, p. 329. According to another interpretation the name
"ciborium" refers to the Host-vessel's function of enclosing the heavenly food,
tibus (cf. A. Mu'ller, art. Hostie in Ersch und Griiber, Encyklopadie, ii. Sec. Th. xi.
p. 186). Hildebrand (Sveriges medeltid, iii. p. 568) considers that the Sacrament-
preservers were the first "ciboria," and that the term was transferred from them
to the erection above the altar. The general view is that " ciborium " is derived
from the Greek name of a cup-shaped fruit, the form of which recalled the
vaulted roof above the altar (cf. e.g. Raible, op. cit. p. 163).
11. For more exact chronological information as to the origin of the new
custom see Laib und Schwarz, op. cit. p. 73. It is supposed that the first man
to begin the preserving of the Sacrament in the altar-piece was Guibertus of
Verona (Bishop 1524-1543 ; cf. Raible, op. cit. pp. 238 seq.}.
12. The idea that all Church art involves a homage to the eucharistic God is
of fundamental importance to the ritual system of the Benedictines (cf. Dom
Besse, Le Moine ISne'dictin, esp. p. 181).
13. For exceptions from this rule, and for information as to the time when the
sacramental lamp was introduced, see Legg, JEcclesio logical J3s$ays t pp. 29-30.
14. Rio, JEssais liturgiques sur I 'ornamentation, des fylises, p. 102. For the
conopies see Raible, op. cit. pp. 207 and 269.
15. Rio, qy. cit. p. 99.
16. Sense, Deutsche Schriften, pp. 166 and 462. Devotion towards the taber-
nacle is one of the most remarkable traits in the life of the modern French
Church. Some notable examples of the ecstasy experienced by the faithful
before the dwelling-place of the Host are to be found in the diary of the French
nun Marianne Herv6 Bazin (Mine. S. S., Une Religieuse rdparatrice, pp. 91-92,
198, 347).
17. For the influence of the Ark of the Covenant on the architecture of the
tabernacle see Rohault de Fleury, op. cit. ii. p. 65.
18. Binterim, op. cit. iv. L pp. 118-119 ; Rock, The Church of our Father.i,
iv. pp. 235-236, 239, 264 ; Jakob, Die Kunst im Dienste der Kirche, pp. 74-77 ;
Dale, The Sacristan's Manual, p. 23.
19. For chronological and topographical information as to the origin of the
freestanding and attached tabernacles see Laib und Schwarz, op. cit. pp. 59-60,
72 seq. ; Otte, op. cit. i. pp. 183 seq. Hertkens, Salcramentshauschen, p. 6 ;
Raible, op. cit. pp. 69, 171, 173 seq.
20. For a reproduction of this gorgeous tabernacle see Schmidt, Sevilla,
p. 75. Another famous example of this type is the tabernacle sculptured in
stone by Corneille Floris de Yriendt.
NOTES TO CHAP. IX 507
21. Cf. e.g. the little wooden tower at Senanque (Yaucluse), reproduced in
Enlart's Manuel d' archdologie, i. p. 746.
22. This type is represented iu Finland by a slender little tabernacle in the
church at NadendaL An aquarelle by Albert Edelfelt is preserved in the
Historical Museum at Helsingfors. For historical information as to the .tower
tabernacle during the early Middle Ages see Laib und Schwarz, op. cit, pp. 29 seq.
The eucharistic dove seems in some cases to have been represented on the top
of a tower (cf. Binterim, op. cit. ii. 2. p. 172).
23. Cf. Weerth, E. aus'm, JKunstdenkmiler in den Rheirilanden (passim}.
24. Not only was there a fear of the Jews, who, according to popular Catholic
belief, never omitted any opportunity of getting possession of the Host.
Magicians and witches were eager to acquire the Sacrament ; and still more was
the Holy of holies threatened by the Satanists, whose black masses haunted
the minds of the faithful for centuries. Cf. the information as to the theft
of wafers given in Huysmans's preface to Jules Bois's Le Satanisme et la maffie,
and in Rock, The Church of our Fathers, iv. p. 241. Further information
as to the black cults is to be found in Gorres, Ohristliche Mystify pp. 286 seq.
25. For the fortifications around the doves and the other Host-shrines see
Caumont, Abdctdaire, pp. 573-574, and Eohault de Fleury, op. cit. v. pp. 70 and
79. The fortress motive is often met with in the embellishment of other
ecclesiastical implements besides "eiboria" (Hildebrand, Sveriges medeltid, iii.
pp. 327, 331, 351). The significance of the tower as a symbol of power is also
set forth by Hildebrand (ibid. p. 569).
26. Cf. e.g. Perate in Michel, Histoire de Fart, i. p. 32.
27. The best-known examples are the graves represented in the famous ivory
reliefs at Munich, at Florence, and in the British Museum.
28. It seems probable that these grave-pictures, in a number of cases, imitate
the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which has also been the model for many
reliquaries (Rohault de Fleury, La Messe t v. p. 69).
29. Rohault de Fleury, op. cit. v. p. 62 ; Kraus, Geschichte der christlichen
Kunst t ii. p. 466.
30. Rohault de Fleury, op. cit. v. p. 67.
31. Rohault de Fleury, op. cit. ii. p. 65. For the connection between the grave
and the Host-preserver cf. also Honorius Augustodunensis, Gfemma animae^
(Patr. Lat. clxzii. col. 163).
32. Cf. the reproductions in Rohault de Fleury, op. cit. v. pp. 65 and 67.
33. Cf. e.g. Lorenzo Vecchietta's sacrament-house in the Cathedral of Siena,
crowned by a statue of the Risen Saviour ; Benedetto da Majano's tabernacle in S.
Damiano at Siena, also crowned by the Risen Saviour ; Donatello's tabernacle
in the sacristry of S. Peter's at Rome, with a relief of the entombment in the
top compartment; Andrea Sanso vino's sacrament-altar in S. Spirito at Florence,
with the entombment in. relief and the Risen Saviour on the door of the Host-
shrine ; Desiderio da Settignano's tabernacle from S. Lorenzo at Florence and
Andrea della Robbia's sacrament-altar in S. Maria delle Grazie at Arezzo, both
with the entombment ; and Luca della Robbia's tabernacle at Peretola, with the
entombment in the lunette and the Risen Saviour on the door.
34. Durand, Rational, i. p. 53.
35. Hildebrand (Sveriges medeltid, iii. p. 570, KyrUiga Konsten, p. 129) says
that, according to the Protestant view, these embellishments are not very suit-
able. To pious Catholics, however it was quite natural to recall the Madonna
in the decoration of the Host-shrine.
508 THE SACEED SKRINE
36. Laib und Schwarz, op. cit. p. 30.
37. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser t ii. p. 105.
38. Thomas Aquinas, Sacrament, of the Altar, pp. 182-183.
39. 2)e imitations Ckristi. p. 343 (lib. iv. cap. xi.). These expressions corre-
spond generally with some phrases of Johannes Chrysostoruus, Hepl lepuxrtivr)*
(De sacerdotio] (Pair. Graec. xlviii. col. 681).
40. S. Bernardus, Instruct sacerdotis (Pair. Lot. clxxxiv. col. 786).
41. It should not he overlooked that Birgitta saw in the high calling of
the priests a reason for severely condemning all those who celebrate the Mass
with unworthy thoughts (Uppenbarelser, i. pp. 143-151, 157, 159, 171 ; ii. pp.
118 seq. Hi. pp. 13 and 257). Of., however, cap. vi. note 25 as to how, even
in Birgitta's opinion, the Sacrament lost none of its effectiveness if celebrated
by an unworthy priest.
42. Jjzfrgensen, Den kellige Frans, pp. 29, 144-145, 176-178 ; Speculum per-
fectionis, p. 94.
43. Of. e.g. the contributions to the psychology of communicants to be found
in Huysmans's En route, pp. 180, 278, 377-379, and iu Rodenbach, Mus6e de
Bfyuines, pp. 190 and 129.
44. De imitatione Christi, p. 359 (lib. iv. cap. xvii.)-
45. Durand, op. cit. i. p. 53.
CHAPTEE X
1. C Renan, Vie de Jtsus, pp. 44-45.
2. Of. Rohault de Fleury, La F~ierge, I p. 225 ("L'JiJvangile ne dit rien
d'inutile ").
3. Cook, Holy Bille with Commentary, N.T. 1 p. 320.
4. Renan, Les J$vangiles, p. 542 (Appendice : Les freres et les cousins de
Je"sus).
5. Of. e.g. Meyer, ffandtuch, N.T. i. p. 67 (bibliographical information
as to early interpretations of this passage).
6. See Herzog, La Sainte Vierge, pp. 26-27, on Hieronymus's explanations.
7. In Cook's Anglican Bible Commentary, op. cit. p. 7, this passage is,
strangely enough, left quite unexplained.
8. Herzog, op. cit. p. 3 ; Strauss, Pas Leben Jesu, p. 333.
9. Cf. Renan, Les jfivangiles, pp. 49-50, 105 ; Strauss, op. cit. p. 344.
10. Herzog, op. cit. pp. 6 seq.
11. Ibid. p. 9 (cf. Brandes, Jesaja, pp. 18-19).
12. Renan, L'figlise chr&ienne, p. 266 (story of Mary and the soldier
Panthera).
13. Renan, op. cit, p. 121.
14. Burkitt, Early Eastern Christianity, pp. 88-90 ; Renan, op. cit. p. 358 ;
Augusti, JDentcwurdiykeiten, iii. p. 53.
15. Lehner, Die Marienverehrung, pp. 185-186.
16. Ibid. p. 128.
17. Lucius, Die Anfdnge des Keiligenkults, pp. 420-421 ; Herzog, op. cit. pp.
41 seq.
18. Herzog, op. cit. pp. 2 $egt. ; Lehner, op. cit, pp. 132 $eg.
19. Lucius, op. cit. p. 437.
NOTES TO CHAPS. X-XII 509
20. Lehner, op. cit. pp. 79 seq. ; August!, op. tit. iii. pp. 32 seq. ; Baring
Gould, Lives of the Saints, i. pp. 422-423.
21. Eerzog, op. cit. p. 78 ; Stanley, Christian Institutions, p. 321.
22. Livius, The Blessed Virgin, p. 343 ; Kenan, U 'Antichrist, p. 347.
23. Jameson, Legends of the Madonna, pp. xxii and 25.
24. Kaufmanii, Handbuch, pp. 411, 460-461.
CHAPTEE XI
1. The summary here given is based on A. Meyer's translation in Hennecke's
Neutestamentliche Apofcryphen, pp. 54-63.
2. Meyer in Hennecke's Handbuch zu den neutestamentlichen ApoTcryphen,
p. 109.
3. Hid. p. 109.
4. Ibid. p. 109. Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu nach den ApoJcryphen, p. 11.
5. The commentators have not succeeded in finding out what feast-day is
referred to in the story. For a detailed discussion of this question see Meyer,
op. cit. p. 109 ; Hofmann, op. cit. pp. 10 and 25.
6. For an explanation of this sign see Meyer, op. cit. p. 113. Hofmann,
op. cit, p. 30.
7. Cf. Luke i. 46.
8. Meyer, op. cit. p. 113.
9. The idea that Joseph was an old widower is found also in the Apocryphal
Gospel of Peter (Meyer, op. cit. p. 118) ; but it is probably through the narrative
of James that it has been disseminated in the Church.
10. Cf. Meyer, op. cit. p. 122.
11. Lucius, Anf tinge des HeiligenJcults, p. 424.
12. Meyer, op. cit. p. 123, leaves it undecided whether the words " His
praises " refer to the choirs of angels or to" the music of the temple singers.
13.- Ibid, p, 125 ; Hofmann, op. cit. pp. 101-102.
14. Meyer, op. cit. p. 127.
15. Meyer in Neutestamentliche ApoTcryphen, p. 53 (Introduction to the
translation of the Gospel of James).
16. Ibid. p. 52.
17. Ibid. p. 52. Cf., however, Broussolle, De la Conception a I'Annonciation,
pp. 210-211, 264-265.
18. Ibid. p. 51.
19. Ibid. p. 48.
20. Ibid. pp. 48 and 51.
21. Hofmann, op. cit. p. 75.
22. Lehner, Die Marienverehrung, pp. 237 seq. ; Tischendorf, JEvangelia
apocrypha, pp. xxii seq. See also Backstrom, Svenska folkbocker, ii. pp. 159-
163.
CHAPTER XII
1. The earliest Fathers already zealously defend Mary against the suspicions
of sinful doubt which might be wakened by her answer to Gabriel (cf. e.g. the
extracts from the writings of Ambrosius and Augustine given by Livius, The
Blessed Virgin, pp. 130, 134, and 218).
510 THE SACKED SHRINE
2. Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu nach den Apokryphen, p. 6. Of. also Jacobus
de Voragine, Legenda aurea, p. 587 ; Ett fornsvenskt legendarium, p. 3 (Jungfru
Mariasagan) ; Backstrom, Svenska folkbb'cker, ii. p. 163 (Jesu barndomsbok).
3. The mothers of Mary and Samuel both bore the name Anna, and were
both religious poetesses. Every time Samuel's father, Elkanah, offered a sacri-
fice, he gave a part to his wife Pennina and to the children he had by her, but
to Anna who was barren he gave a double part. Anna was mocked by his other
wife, just as her namesake in the Apocryphal gospel was mocked by her servant.
She prayed with tears to the Highest that she might be freed from her dis-
honour, and she promised to give her child to Him for its lifetime. When
her son was born she thanked God in a song of praise, and triumphed over
those who had despised her. In a sequence in Anna's honour (printed in
Analecta hymnica, viii. p. 102) Joachim's wife is compared with the mother
of Tobias-
Pater mittens Annae natum
Cum chirographo ad cognatum
Raphaelem reperit.
This Anna also had borne a pious son, who was her only child ; her husband
Tobit was charitable like Joachim, and he too divided his sacrifice into three
parts. Lastly, in the scene where Anna awaits her husband, a certain analogy
to the story of Tobias's return home can be traced. The author of the sequence
is guilty of an error, however, when in the following strophe he sings
Anna Eachuelis nata
Sept em viris viduata
Tobiae conjungitur.
JFor Rachuel's daughter and Tobias's wife, who married seven times but each
time became a widow immediately after the wedding, was not called Anna
but Sarah. The analogies pointed out, however, make it intelligible why the
Gospel of James led people's thoughts to the popular romance of Tobias. It
has also been thought possible to find correspondences to the Old Testament
narrative in hagiographical literature. Nicolaus of Myra was the son of an
Anna, who had given up the hope of having any children ; and the saintly
Pierre Fourier, who was consecrated to the service of God from childhood, was
borne by a woman who bore the same name as the mothers of Samuel and Mary.
In these coincidences Ernest Hello sees a proof that the name Anna was
deliberately selected to signify the types of the pious mother (of. JPhysionomies
de Saints, pp. 243-245).
4. Another expression of the same popular thought is to be found in the idea
that the mightiest magicians are men born from forbidden unions, i.e. produced
by a transgression of binding and universally recognised moral law (cf. Him,
Forstudier till en konstfilosofi, p. 118).
5. An utterance of Bede on the birth of John the Baptist may here be cited
(Homilia in vigilia, S. Joannis JBaptistae, Patr. Lat. xciv. col. 205) ; ' ' Sic
Jacob et Joseph patriarchae, sic Samson fortissimus ducum, et prophetarum
eximius Samuel steriles diu corpore, sed fecundas semper virtutibus habuere
genitrices, ut miraculo nativitatis natorum dignitas nosceretur, et probarentur
sublimes in vita futuri, qui in ipso vitae exortu conditionis humanae jura traxx-
scenderent." Quoted incompletely by Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu nach den
ApoJcryphen, p. 23.
NOTES TO CHAP. XII 511
6. Of. A. Meyer in Handbucli zu den neutestamentlichen Apolcryphen, p. 110.
7. For a detailed summary of the discussions of the age of this saint's day
see Augusti, Denkwiirdigkeiten, iii pp. 102-104. Cf. also Lucius, Die Anfdnge
des Heiligenkults, p. 486 ; Herzog, La Sainte Vierge 3 pp. 79-80.
In a poem ascribed to Wace is related a legend of the origin of the Birth-
day festival. On a certain September night, during many successive years,
a pious man had heard the angels in heaven sending up a clear and loud
song. When he observed that the concert was always repeated on the same
date, he prayed "with prayers and fasting and mortification" that God would
let him know why the people of Heaven celebrated this particular night with
such solemn music. Finally, he was favoured by a vision in which it was
explained to him that it was Mary's birth that was celebrated in Heaven. He
immediately betook himself to Rome to communicate his vision to the Pope,
and after the latter was convinced of the man's sincerity a great Council was
summoned at which the keeping of Mary's birthday was commanded through-
out Christendom.
The poem is printed in extenso in Reinsch, Die Pseudo-Evangelien wn Jesu
und Marias JZindheit in der romanischen und germanischen LiUratur>
pp, 21-25.
The same legend is related briefly by Johannes Beleth (Rationale divinorum
qfficiorum, cap. 149, Patr. Lat. ccii. col. 152), by Durand (National, v. p. 85),
and by Jacobus de Voragine (Legenda aurea, p. 590).
8. The miraculous element in John's conception is cited by Augustine as one
of the reasons why the Church celebrated his birth. Another reason was the
testimony to John's greatness which the Saviour Himself had given (Matt. xi.
11). On the other hand, Augustine does not mention the sanctification in the
womb. See Augustine's speech at a feast of S. John, translated by Augusti,
Denkwurdigkaiten, iii. pp. 162-167.
9. The mediaeval writers in their sermons give a detailed account of the
reasons for the celebration of the saint's JSirth-d&'y. S. Bernard cites the words
of the angel to Zacharias : " Many shall rejoice at his birth " (Luke i. 14). He
further mentions the miracle which took place when, at the Visitation, John the
Baptist " the burning and shining light " (John v. 35) was lit with a heavenly
fire even before his birth : " New was this fire, which a little before descended
from Heaven, and through Gabriel's mouth entered the Virgin's ear, thence
from the Virgin's mouth through the mother's ear to reach the child. From
that moment the Holy Ghost filled its chosen vessel, and made it a lamp
for God" S. Bernard, In nativitate S. Joannis JSaptistae s&rmo (Patr. Lat.
clxxxiii. cols, 397-401). Cf. also Bernard's JEpistola ad canonicos Lugdunenses
(Patr. Lat. clxxxii. cols. 333-334). The same line of thought is pursued, with
new rhetorical embroiderings, by the Abbot Guerricus in various sermons. In
these is also treated the miraculous element in John's birth, and the angel's
words as to the joy his birth would arouse Guerricus Abbas, In nativitate
S. Joannis Baptistae sermones (Patr. Lat. clxxxv. 1, cols. 163-171). More im-
portant, however, is an anonymous sermon on John's ten privileges. Accord-
ing to Migne, this sermon seems to have been written at a time when Mary's
birthday was not yet recognised as a Church festival. The first of John's
privileges, we are told, is that his birth was announced by an angel, the second
that he was sanctified in Ms mother's womb, the third that even before his
birth he rejoiced in God, and the fourth that there was joy over his birth.
" Blush, Devil," exclaims the preacher, " blush thy because efforts have been
512 THE SACKED SHEINE
thwarted. . . . Through thy endeavours was it brought about that all men are
conceived in sin. and born in sorrow. But lo ! this one is sanctified even in his
mother's womb, conies forth with joy, and spreads joy over the world at his
birth" (Appendix ad S. JBernarduin ; Sermo in nativitate S. Joannis JBaptistae
De decem privilegiis ej-w-s, Pair. Lat. clxxxiv. cols. 991 seq.}.
10. S. Bernardus, In assumptione sermo, ii. (Patr. Lot. clxxxiii. cols. 420-
421) (quoted by Herzog, La Saints, Vierge, p. 84) ; JSpistola ad canonicos
Lugdunenses (Pair. Lat. clxxxii. col. 834). Of, also Durand, National, v.
p. 85.
11 f Of. Herzog, op. cit. pp. 53 seq.
12. August!, DenkwurdigJceiten, iii. p. 95.
13. Ibid. p. 102 j Heizog, op. cit. p. 107,
14. Ibid. p. 105 (extract from a sermon by Andreas Gretensis on Mary's
birthday, in which the writer praises St. Anna).
15. The festival is mentioned under this name as late as the tenth century in
Basilius Porphyrogenitus, Menologiurn (Patr. Graeca, cxvii. col. 195).- Herzog
(op. cit. p. 105) has collected from the G-reek Patrology a great deal of informa-
tion as to the festival of the Conception.
16. Herzog, op. cit. p. 105.
17. Augusti, op. cit. iii. p. 96 ; Waterton, Pietas Mariana JBritannica, p. 128 ;
Bishop, The Origins of the Feast of the Conception, p. 8 ; Herzog, op. dt. p.
106. The earlier writers make many incorrect statements which have been
corrected by later investigation. For a general bibliography of the subject see
Herzog's work.
18. Ad opera S. Anselmi appendix Spuria ; Sermo de conceptione Mariae
(Patr. Lat. clix. cols. 319 seq.). Elsi's vision is related in many mediaeval
collections of legends, e.g. in Wace's La Conception Nostre Dame and in
Gautier de Coincy's Miracles de la Vierge. See Nielsen, IZvangeUesagn, pp.
20-21.
In some variations Mary's envoy is S. Nicolas, who was a patron of all sea-
farers (cf. Waterton, op. cit. p. 128).
19. The clerk's offence was that, in spite of his worship of the Virgin Mary,
he had entered into an earthly marriage. The monk had betaken himself upon
a nocturnal adventure, and was drowned on his sinful way. His soul, how-
ever, was reunited to his body after he, or rather the soul, had promised to
make an effective propaganda of the Conception festival. Both those legends
are related in the sermon of Pseudo-Anselmus (Patr. Zat. clix.), which has
already been referred to, and are found in most collections of Mary-miracles.
The condition of the Conception festival, however, seems to have been added
by the anonymous preacher.
20. S. Bernardus, Epistola ad canonicos Lugdwn,ense$ (Patr. Lat. clxxxii.).
21. Eadmer, Osbert, Petrus Comestor, Nicolaus de S. Alban, Oger, and
others attempted to refute S. Bernard's assertions in dogmatic tracts (cf.
Herzog, op. cit. pp. 119-120). They wished to show that God was perfectly
well able to free His own mother from the guilt which weighed upon the rest of
the human race. Petrus Comestor, or the unknown author of a sermon which
bears his name, even maintained, in opposition to S. Bernard, that Mary was
sanctified before her conception, i.e. before she existed at all. This assertion is
not, however, quite so absurd as one is tempted to think. For it has been
argued that the talk as to the Yirgin's purity before her conception probably
refers to a popular belief prevalent in the Middle Ages, according to which
NOTES TO CHAP. XII 513
Mary's organism was formed from a piece separated by God from Adam's
body "before the first man stained himself by sin (cf. Scheeben, " Empfa'ngniss,
Unbefleckte " in Wetzer-Welte, Kirchenlexicon, iv. p. 470).
22. Ad opera S. Anselmi appendix ; Sermo de conceptione B. Mariae (Pair.
Lat. clix. cols. 319-324). This text is summarised and criticised in detail by
Herzog, op. cit. pp. 120-121. The authorship of the remarkable sermon has
often been ascribed to Anselm's nephew (cf. Rigg, S. Anselm of Canterbury,
pp. 206 seq.).
23. Cf. Herzog, op. cit. pp. 139 seq.
24. To remove the effects of S. Bernard's criticisms of the Gonception dogma,
a legend was spread that the great abbot had revealed himself to a lay brother
at Clairvaux, clad in a snow-white garment, but with a large brown stain on
his breast. This stain he carried, S. Bernard said, because he had written what
he ought not to have written concerning the Madonna's conception. The lay
brother related his vision to the monks, and one of them carefully noted down
his narrative. But when the matter was later debated at a general council the
writing was burned, " for the abbots valued Bernard's good name more than the
Virgin's honour." The legend is told in a letter from Nicolas '.of S. Albans to
Peter of Celles (Pair. Lat. ccii. col. 623). The letter is quoted in Bridgett,
Our Lady's Dowry, p. 29.
For the rest, the force of Bernard's letter to the canons of Lyons was
minimised by the addition of a phrase at the end, in which the writer previously
submitted to the Pope's opinion in the matter of Mary's conception (Pair.
Lat. clxxxii. col. 336).
25. Seville and Naples, for example, are headquarters of the cult of Anna,
as well as of the worship of "Maria Concetta."
26. Tischendorf, JSvangelia apocrypha, p. 58. Peculiarly enough the compiler
of this gospel has omitted to exclude the line in the Gospel of James, according
to which the angel expressly says to Joachim, "She shall conceive of thy seed."
(Cf. Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu, pp. 24-25. ) That during the tenth century in the
Eastern Church a belief existed in some places of a virginal conception of Anna,
appears from an expression in Basilius Porphyrogenitus's Menologium, in
which this heresy is controverted (Patr. @raeca t cxvii. col. 195). According
to Hofmann, op. cit. p. 24, it was in the twelfth century that Anna began to
be regarded in Europe as a virgin.
27. As Trithemms's (or Tritenheim's) important writings have not been acces-
sible to the author, it has been impossible to express a more definite opinion
about his doctrine. Some noteworthy extracts are given by Schaumkell,
DerKultus der heiligenAnna, pp. 36 seq., and by Male, I? Art religieux de la Jin
du moyen dge, pp. 229-230. These extracts will be touched upon in greater
detail in the following, viz. note 53 in this chapter.
28. Benedictus XIV., De Jesu Ghristi wwtrisque ejusfestis, p. 304.
29. The legend of Anna and Fanuel has been interpolated in Wace's poem
Conception Nostre Dame, and in Herman de Valencienne's Bible. Detailed
bibliographical information is to be found in Chabaneau's introduction, Le
JRomanz de Saint Fanuel. For a summary of the legend see Nielsen, JBvan-
geliesagn, pp. 13 seg_.
30. The poem does not expressly say that the fruits in question are derived
from the above-mentioned tree (cf. Chabaneau, op. tit. p. 109). It is, however,
a justifiable supposition that the poet was here thinking of the same miraculous
tree described in detail at the beginning of the legend.
514 THE SACBED SHBINE
31. Chabaneau, op. cit. p. 20 :
Cele nuit jurent il ensemble,
Si egendrerent, ce me semble,
Nostre dame sainte Marie.
32. Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu, p. 17.
33. Ibid, p. 19.
34. Grimouard de S. Laurent, Guide de Tart chr&tien, iv. p. 84 ; Male, L'Art
religieux du XIII e siecle, p. 282 ; Moatault, Iconographie chr&ienne, ii. p. 204 ;
Chabaneau, Le Romans de S. Fanuel, p. 110.
35. Montault, op. cit. ii. p. 203.
36. Cf. Huysmans, Trois fylises et trois primitifs, pp. 24-25, 168. A con-
firmation of this view is found in almost every chapter of Male's epoch-making
work, by which the dependence of the artists on the directions of patrons has
been demonstrated more irrefutably than ever before.
37. For further information as to the iconography of the Gospel of James see
Schultz, Die Legends vom Leben der Jungfrau Maria, pp. 35 seq. ; Venturi, La
Madone, pp. 79 seq. ; Montault, Iconographie, ii. p. 202 ; Gabelentz, Die Jcirch-
liche Kunst im italienischen Mittelalter, pp. ] 87 seq. ; Broussolle, De la conception
immacuUe a I'annonciation ange'ligue, pp. 130 seq., 159 seq.
38. From the thirteenth century to the end of the sixteenth, the meeting at
the Golden Gate serves as an illustration of the Conception dogma (Grimouard
de S. Laurent, op. cit. iv. p. 82 ; Detzel, Qhristlichc Ikonographie, ii. p. 73).
39. Grimouard de S. Laurent, op. cit. p. 84.
40. The picture has earlier, though unconvincingly, been ascribed to Pesello.
According to Morelli it is the work of Filippo Lippi.
41. Montault, op. cit. ii. p. 204.
42. Grimouard de S. Laurent, op. cit. iv, p. 84 (quotation from Molanus
and Kobert de Licio). Cf. also Justi, Velasquez, i. p. 143.
For the new type of the "conceptio immaculata " see Broussolle, pp. cit.
pp. 133 seq. ; Mufkoz, Iconograjia delict, Madonna, pp. 102 seq. ; Male, IS Art
religieux de la fin du moyen dge, pp. 226 seq.
43. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, i. p. 22.
44. Trombelli, Sanctae Mariae vita in Bourass6, JSumma aurea, i. p. 28.
45. Emmerich, Leoen der Jilg. Jungfrau Maria, aufgeschrieben von Clemens
Brentano, p. 51.
46. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, Hi. p. 127.
47. Schaumkell, DerJCultusderhly. Anna, pp. 42 seq. j Baring Gould, Lives
of the Saints, viii. p. 567 ; JEtt fornsvenskt legendarium, Hi. p. 585 seq.
48. Acta sanctorum, Martii, torn. i. p. 556 (edition 1668), quoted by Schultz,
op. cit. p. 39.
49. For information as to the treatment of the motive in art, see Schultz, op.
cit. pp. 38-44 ; Montault, op. cit. pp. 208-210 ; Broussolle, op. cit, p. 206.
50. The analysis given in the text of the typical family portraits has its
closest correspondence in a French-Flemish picture dating from about 1500,
which is preserved in the Wallraf-JRichartz Museum at Cologne (No. 426 in
the catalogue of this museum). Artistically, the most important of all
" Sippenbilder " is the centre picture in Quentin Massy's triptych at Brussels.
51. Trombelli, !. Mariae vita, in Bourass4, Summa aurea, i. pp. 225 seq.
In the new edition of Ada Sanctorum the gtory of S. Colette's vision has
been excluded from her biography ; of. vol. vii. p. 558 (March 6). This story
NOTES TO CHAP. XII 515
is summarised and controverted, on the other hand, in the chapter on S. Anna,
vol. xxxiii. p. 242 (July 26).
52. Of. e.g. Liguori, Glories of Mary, pp. 261, 270-271.
53. Jungfru Marie ortagr&rd, p. 151. Latin text to this Swedish transla-
tion, ibid. p. 245.
Trithemius, who at the close of the fifteenth century worked more zealously
than any one else for the cult of Anna, employs a no less exalted but more
naturalistic expression than the anonymous author of Jungfru Marie
ortagdrd. He turns with his praises to that womb in which the Ark of God
was built, and in which 'the Queen of Heaven dwelt: "0 numquam sine
honore nominandus uterus, in quo archa dei sine macula meruit fabricari. . . .
Beatus venter, qui celi dominant portavit, felicia ubera, quae lactare matrem
dei meruerunt" (Tractatus de laudibus sanctissime Anne, quoted by Schaum-
kell, Der Kultus der hlg. Anna, p. 40). These pious interjections are cited also
by Male (IS Art religieux de la Jin du moyen dge, p. 229), who considers that
Trithemius with his writings gave a new character to the worship of the
Virgin's mother. The expressions used in the Swedish Prayer-Book prove,
however, that the German humanist was by no means the first to" praise Anne in
her character of a treasure-chamber for Mary. To find the earliest instance of
this rhetorical motive, we must go even further back than the Marie orta-
gard. For as early as in Johannes Damascenus we find a song of praise cele-
brating Anna's womb: "0 praeclarum Annae uterum, in quo tacitis incre-
mentis ex ea auctus est, et formatus fuit foetus sanctissimus ! uterum, in
quo animatum coelum, coelorum latitudine latius conceptum fuit " (Homilia
I. in nativitate B. V. Mariae ; Patr. Graeca, xcvi. col. 663), quoted in Trombelli,
S. Mariae vita in Bourasse, Summa aurea, i. p. 21.
It is very probable that in the works of Trithemius, which are only known
to us by extracts (cf. note 27, above), many borrowings from earlier authors could
be discovered. Thus Schaumkell cites (op. cit. p. 37) a phrase as to Anna's
sanctity, which is derived from that of Mary in the same way that the worth
of a tree is determined by its fruits : " Sicut arbor ex suo fructu cognoscitur,
ita qualis sit mater in filia declaratur. In dei geni trice sanctissima accipimus,
quid de sanctitate matris sentire debeamus. ..." This reminds one
of the chapter of JStt fornsvenskt kgendarium ) iii. p. 13, which is headed
" S. Anna jamfdres med ett tra " (S. Anna compared to a tree ; manuscript
from the middle of the fifteenth century). This argument also can be traced
back to Johannes Damascenus (op. cit. col. 667), even if the simile of the
tree is not employed by him, " beatum par Joachim et Anna, immacula-
tissimum prorsus ! Ex fructu ventris vestri cognoscimini, velut alicubi Dominus
ait : Ex fructibus eorum cognoscetis eos."
54. Male, I? Art religieux de lafindu moyen Age, pp. 230-231 (reproduction
of a gravure in Les Seures de Simon Vostre a I' usage d' Angers, 1510 ; descrip-
tion of glass-paintings from the close of the sixteenth century in French churches).
Munoz, Iconografia della Madonna, p. 102 ; Montault, Iconographie, ii. p. 206
(description of an enamel from Limoges, dated 1545, in the Cluny Museum).
55. Montault, op. cit. p. 206.
56. Male, I! Art religieux du XIII* stecle, pp. 334-335 ; Montault, op. cit. ii.
pp. 210-211. Montault points oat that the corporation of joiners at Paris,
when it made its medal in 1748, represented on it a picture of Anna instructing
Mary, with the device "Sic fingit tabernaculum Deo." Thus they preferred
to compare their work with the spiritual " building " of Mary's soul. To judge
516 THE SACKED SHEINE
by the poetical metaphors, however, it was easier for mediaeval piety to worship
Mary as a bodily tabernacle.
57. The method of placing the two mothers side by side seems to have been
peculiar to German, French, and Flemish painters. Lucas Cranach and many
unknown artists employed this arrangement, which was probably in a number
of cases borrowed from the great "Sippenbilder." The Italian masters usually
represent Anna behind Mary (Masaccio, Perugino, Antoniazzo Romano, etc.).
58. Jameson, Legends of the Madonna, p. 184.
59. Of. e.g. Ett fornsvensH legendarium, iii. p. 14 (continuation of the earlier
cited extract about Anna as a good tree). Schaumkell, Der Kultus der hlg.
Anna, pp. 66 $eq.> gives instances of prayers in which Anna is invoked for a
direct intercession to the Saviour. These prayers date from the beginning of
the sixteenth century.
60. Of. Serao, Matilde, La, Madonna e i santi t p. 309, as to the cult of Anna
at Naples.
CHAPTER XIII
1. Innocentius III., De contemptu mundi, in Pair. Lai,, ccxvii. cols. 701-746.
2. The following summary of the narrative poems on the life of Mary is
mainly based on the writings mentioned below : Vita Beate Virginis Marie et
Sahatoris Nostri rhythmica (first half of the thirteenth century) ; Walther von
Rheinau, Marienleben (fourteenth -century German poetical translation of the
Vita rhythmica) ; Wernher von Tegernsee, Driu Liet wn der Maget (written
about 1172) ; Philipp der Karthauser, Marienleben (fourteenth century) ; Cursor
mundi (anonymous Northumbrian poem of the fourteenth century, containing
a description of Mary's life based in essentials on Wace's Conception N".
Dame] ; Escobar y Mendoza (1589-1669), Historia de la Virgen Madre de Dios.
A detailed account of the handling of the Madonna's life by the German poets
is given by P. Kiichenthal, Die Mutter Gottes in der altdeutschen schonen
Literatur.
3. Augusti, Denkwwrdig"keiten> iii. p. 102 ; Lucius, Anfdnge des Heiligen-
Jcults, pp. 486-487. The festival is supposed to have arisen in the East as early
as the sixth century, and must have spread to Europe during the following
centuries.
4. Venturi, La Madone, p. 83.
5. For iconographical information as to the representations of Mary's birth
see Schultz, Die Legende vom Zeben der Jungfrau Maria, pp. 46-47. A rich
selection of reproductions is given by Venturi, La Madone.
6. Yenturi, op. cit. p. 82.
7. Grirnouard de S. Laurent, Guide de Vart chr&ien, iv. p. 89.
8. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, ii. p. 200.
9. Vita B. V. Marie rhythmica, p. 24.
10. Walther v. Rheinau, Marienleben, i. p. 18, The German paraphrase is in
this chapter even more explicit than its Latin original.
11. Philipp der Karthauser, Marienleben, p. 11. An indirect reproach to the
mothers who shirked the duty of nursing their children is to be found as early
as in the Vita rhythmica. It is said of Anne on p. 24 :
Non ut solent homines extraneam quaesivit
Nutricem mater puero ; sed ipsamet nutrivit
Propriis uberilms prolera et lactavit.
NOTES TO CHAP. XIII 517
12. Philipp der Karthauser, op. cit. p. 110 :
ziichteclich siner muoter brust
ane girlichen gelust
ze tien pllac daz kindelin,
ma'ezic was diu spise sin.
13. Vita B. V. Marie rhythmica, p. 33.
14. Ibid. p. 32.
15. Ibid. p. 34 ; Wernher, Driu Liet, pp. 36-37.
16. Vita rhythmica , p. 36 :
Fuit enim condolens atque compassiva,
Mlsericors, compatiens, et caritativa.
Gaudebat cum gaudentibus, cum letis letabatur,
Flebatque cum fientibus, cum mestis tristabatur.
17. Nielsen, JSvangetiesag^ p. 34 (quotation from Gautier de Coincy, La
nativite Notre Seigneur).
18. Ett fornsvensJct legendarium, iii. p. 4.
19. The following pages are a summary and translations from Ambrosius,
De virginibus ad Marcellam, iii. ; in Pair. Lot. xvi. cols. 220-221.
20. It was probably Ambrosius's description that was the foundation for a
hymn of the fifteenth century :
Noctu quando dormitasti,
Corde siinul vigilasti
Nuniquain vacans otio.
(Analccta hymnica, ix. p. 49. )
21. Vita rhythmica, pp. 30-32 ; Walther v. Kheinau, Harienlelen^ i. pp.
23-26 ; cf. also the precious description of Mary's bodily beauty in Johannis
Franconis Carmen magistrate de beata Maria V. (fifteenth century), Analecta
hymnica, xxix. pp. 185-202.
22. Vita rhythmica t p. 32 :
Erecta sursum procedens semper ambulabat,
Et decenter caput ejus parum inclinabat;
Ut pudicas virgines decet ambulare
Que non solent nimium cervicem elevare ;
Nam omnis motus virginis, incessus atque status
Decens erat et pudicus, ac disciplinatus.
It is of interest to compare these verses with the way in which the bearing
of Jesus is described in the same poem, p. 112 :
Collum Jesu pulchrum erat, planuin atque rectum.
Semper ipse gessit hoc decenter et erectuin.
Karo suum tenuit collum incurvatum,
Quia semper habuit caput elevatum.
Nam sepe celum oculis hie respiciebat,
Et ad patrem semper ejus intentum cor habebat.
It seems that not even the most eminent of all women was accorded the
right " erectos ad sidera tollere vultus."
518 THE SACEED SEBDTE
23. Of. S. Bernardus, De laudibus virginis matris (Pair. Lat. clxxxiii. col.
59) ; Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, iv. p, 73 ; Juliana of Norwich, Revelations, pp.
9 and 15.
24. Medeltidsdikter, p. 227 (Sv. Fornskr. Sallsk. Saml.).
25. Augusti, DenJcw&rdigkeiten t iii. pp. 107-108 ; Broussolle, De la Conception
immacuUe & l : ' Annonciation antique, pp. 210-215.
26. Broussolle, op. cit. p. 215.
27. Of. e.g. the offices printed in Analecta hymnica, v. pp. 59-70, xxiv. pp.
81 seq.
28. Philipp der Karthauser, Marierileben, p. 13.
29. Vita, rhythmica, p. 24 ; "Walther v. Rheinau, Marienleben, i. p. 18.
30. Venturi, La Madone, p. 106.
31. Of the compositions mentioned in the text the frescoes of Gaddi and
Giovanni da Milano are in S. Croce and that of Ghirlandajo in S. Maria Novella
at Florence ; Carpaccio's picture is preserved in the Brera gallery at Milan, Cima
da Conegliano's in the Dresden gallery, Tintoretto's in S. Maria dell' Orto, and
Titian's in the Accademia at Venice. In Giotto's fresco in the Arena Chapel at
Padua, Anna, contrary to the legend, supports her daughter as she ascends the
stairs. For fuller information as to the iconography of the subject see the
earlier - cited works of Detzel, Schultz, and Reinach. Cf. also Grant Allen,
Evolution in Italian Art.
32. Cf. e.g. Roger van der Weyden's picture in the Royal Museum at Brussels
and the carved altar-cabinet at Vbra, in Finland (reproduced and described in
Meinander, Medeltida altarsMp, pp. 237 seq.).
33. Grimouard de S. Laurent, Guide de I' art chr&ien, iv. pp. 95-96.
34. Broussolle, op. eit. p. 212,
35. Vita rhythmica, p. 28.
36. Cf. Fra Gil de Zamora's poem De beata Maria (fourteenth century), in-
cluded in Analecta hywmica, xvi. p. 62 :
Huic spiritus angelici
Devote assistebant,
Manna saporis coelici
De sursum. afferebant,
Quo viscera sacrifera
Cibario, sacrario
Mire reficiebat.
37. Wernher von Tegernsee, Driu Liet, pp. 33 seq.
38. Philipp der Karthauser, Marienleben, p. 39.
39. Jacobus de Voragine, Legenda aurea, p. 217 (De annuntiatione),
40. Sicardus Cremonensis, Mitrale (Pair. Lat. ccxiii. col. 421). The same
thought is expressed by Durand, Rational, iii. p. 224.
CHAPTER XIV
1. Cf. Lucius, Die Anfdnge des ffeiligenkults, p. 492.
2. Important specimens of poetical paraphrases of the narrative of the
Annunciation are met with, especially among The Psalters of Mary. These
song-cycles are HO called because Mary's virtues are celebrated in them in as
JTOTES TO CHAR XIV 519
many strophes or in as many separate poems as there are Psalms in the Psalter.
In many cases each of the 150 songs begins with a repetition of Gabriel's Ave.
In other poems the whole of Gabriel's greeting can be deciphered from the first
words of the strophes or from the first letters of the verses. Much ingenuity has
been expended also in so-called " Glossenlieder " about the Annunciation. For
examples of this kind of poems see Mone, Lateinische Hymnen, vol. ii., and
Analecta hymnica, especially vols. xxx. and xxxv.-xxxviii.
3. For these paintings cf. Garrucci, Arte Cristiana, ii. p. 81, and plate Ixxv. ;
Rohault de Fleury, L'^vangile, i. p. 11 ; Lehner, Die Marienverehrung, pp. 290
and 300 ; Kaufmann, Handbuch, pp. 362-367 ; Schultze, Archdologie, pp. 328-329 ;
Detzel, Christliche Ikonographie, i. pp. 151-152 ; Broussolle, De la Conception
immacuUe a, I'Annonciation, pp. 316, 391-392.
4. Cf. Gabelentz, Die IdrcJiliche Kunst, p. 98.
5. Cf. Detzel, op, tit. i. p. 156.
6. Montault, IconograpMe, ii. p. 214 ; Detzel, op. cit. pp. 153-154 ; Broussolle,
op. cit. pp. 400 seq.
7. Rohault de Fleury, L'J&vangile, i. pp. 17-18.
8. Andrea del Sarto in the Palazzo Pitti, Francia in the Brera at Milan,
Titian in the cathedral at Treviso, Crivelli in the National Gallery in London.
These pictures, which are all reproduced in Venturi's La Madone, are mentioned
as a few examples out of many. Every visitor to the great galleries can here,
as in all the following chapters, add new names to those quoted in the text.
It has been thought unsuitable to give complete iconographic lists, as such can. be
without difficulty compiled by the reader from the easily accessible works of
Schultz (Die Legende vom Leben der Jungfrau), Munoz (Iconografia della
Madonna), Keinach (Repertoire de peintures], and Grant Allen (Evolution in
Italian Art}.
9. Francesco Rizzo, called Santa Croce, Annunciation (in the museum at
Rouen).
10. Catholic piety has, as is well known, imagined that it could identify the
actual house in which the Annunciation took place. For a comparison of the
legends as to this building, which was moved by .angels over the sea to Loretto,
see Durand, Rational, v. pp. 238-246 ; Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu nacli den
Apokryphen, pp. 74-75 ; Broussolle, op. cit. pp. 397-398 ; M&le, HArt religieux
de la pi du moyen dge, pp. 211-212.
11. Cf. Trombelli, Sanctae Mariae vita in Bourasse's Summa aurea, i. col.
603 ; Rohault de Fleury, La Sainte Vierge, i. p. 67.
12. Genthe, Die Jungfrau Maria, ,pp. 17-18.
13. For the history of the Angelus prayers see Barfoed, Altar og PrcediJcestol,
p. 387 ; Kraus, Geschichte der christlichen Kunst, ii. p. 432 ; Jjzlrgensen, Den
hellige Frans t pp. 221-222 ; Wetzer-Welte, Kirckenlexicon, i. pp. 846 seq.
14. Cf. Montault, op. cit. ii. p. 215.
15. Cf. De natimtate Mariae, cap. ix., " Denique ingressus ad earn cubiculum
quidem ubi manebat ingenti lumine perfudit " ; Tischendorf, Evangelia
apocrypha, p. 119.
16. Genthe, Die Jungfrau Maria, pp. 17-18. Cf. also Emmerich, Leben der
heiligen Jungfrau Maria, pp. 167 seq.
17. Detzel, op. cit. i. p. 156 ; Trombelli, op. cit. cols. 472-74 ; Montault, op.
cit. ii. pp. 214 seq,
18. Broussolle, op. cit. p. 365.
19. Cf. Jameson, Legends of the Madonna, p. 298.
520 THE SACRED SHRINE
20. Bergner, Handbuch, p. 446 ; Detzel, op. cit. p. 168.
21. Male, L'Art religieux du XIII* siecle, p. 286; Kello Tarchiani, QU
JEvangeli apocrifi e I' arte in Mazzoni's Esercitazioni, p. 69.
22. Jacobus de Voragine, Legenda aurea, p. 23 7 ; S. Bernardus, De adventu
Domini Sermo IL ; Super-Missus est Somilia /. ; In Annuntiatione Sermo III.
(Pair. Lat. clxxxiii. cols. 42, 58, and 396).
A poetic revision of S. Bernard's language of flowers is to be found in a
rhymed office of the fifteenth century (Analecta hymnica, v. p. 65) :
Flos in floris tempore
Ad locum floris mittitur,
Sic de floris corpore
Gloriose concipitur.
Jesu flos, virga Maria,
Verque tempus floris,
Floris Nazareth patria
Plena sunt decoris.
Candens flos multiplicat
Virgulae decorem,
Conceptus glorificat
Mariae pudorem.
23. For the symbolism of the lily cf. Saintyves, Les Vierges m&res, pp. 73 and
109.
24. Kock, The Church of our Fathers, iii. pp. 200 seq. (quotation from The
Festyvall, printed at Rouen, by Martin Morin, 1499).
25. Ibid. pp. 202-203 (quotation from Magni speculi exemplorum). The same
legend is told by J0rgensen in JRejsebogen, p. 95.
26. Montault, op. cit, ii. 216.
27. Kraus, Geschichte der christlichen J&unst, ii. pp. 284-285 ; Bergner, op. cit.
p. 479. Gabriel is described as a letter-carrier in two of Ephraim Syrus's hymns
(Translation in Idvius, The Blessed Virgin, pp. 425 and 438).
28. Bergner, op. cit. pp. 542-543 ; cf. Tikkanen, Sctgan om enko'rning&n, (Finsfc
TidsJcrift, 1898-1899).
29. Cf. the extracts from the writings of the early fathers given, by Livius,
op. cit. pp. 120, 124, and 141.
30. Ambrosius, Expositio in Lucam (Patr. Lot. xv. col. 1636).
31. Hieronymus, Spistola XXII. ad ISustochium, Paulae Jiliam (Patr. Lat.
xxii. col. 422).
32. Gregorius Thaumaturgos, Homilia de Annuntiatione, quoted by Livius,
op. cit. p. 124.
33. Original text and Latin translation, Ephraim Syrus, Hymni, ed. Lamy,
ii, col. 594.
34. Cf. e.g. S. Bernard, Hbmiliae super Missus est (Patr. Lat. clxxxiii. col. 57).
35. Mone, Lateinische Hymnen, ii. pp. 31-32.
36. Cf. note 1 to Chap. XII.
37. The comparison between Mary and Eve is one of the most frequently
occurring loci communes in Patristic literature. See the extracts given by
Lehner, op. cit. passim, and Livius, op. cit. passim.
38. For the symbolism concealed in Java's name and Gabriel's Aw see Burand,
Rational, iii. pp. 24-25. It is impossible to quote more than a small selection of
NOTES TO CHAP. XIV 521
the innumerable poems in which this symbolism has been expressed. The best-
known example occurs in the famous Aw maris Stella :
Strophe 2. Sumens illud Ave
Gabrielis ore
Funda nos in pace
Mutans Evae nomen.
That the woe removes men from vae is expressed still more clearly in a gloss
to this hymn ( Anal. hymn. xix. p. 22) :
Sumens illud ave
Nos emundans a vae
Confer onus leve
Bona cuncta posce.
And in the following polite playing with words :
Vae mutasti, nam fugasti
Evae matrimonium,
Dum portasti et lactasti
Summi patris filium.
(Anal. hymn, xxxii. p. 29.)
And
Nostrum vae per ave tollis,
Nomen Evae dum revolvis
Gabriele nuntio.
(Anal. hymn. xxxi. p. 139.)
In a thirteenth-century sequence (printed by Mone, op. cit. ii. p. 200) it is
said that Mary changed the cry of the mourners :
Tibi dicant omnes Ave
Quia mundum tollis a vae,
Mutasti vocem flentium.
The same lines form the first stanza of a fifteenth-century sequence (Anal,
hymn, xxxiv. p. 126).
To understand this assertion, one should know that according to mediaeval
ideas all children of men begin their lives by lamenting the sin of their fore-
fathers. The boys immediately after birth shriek a-a in memory of ^dam,
while the girls with e-e grieve over the sufferings brought upon them by the first
woman. (Innocentius III., De contemptu mundi ; Pair. Lat. ccxvii. col. 705.)
After the promise of salvation had been given to Mary, however, men could
cry out in their despair the hopeful Ave instead of the lamenting capitals
e and a, and thus the vox flentium has undergone an alteration both in its
outer and inner meaning.
In some poems Ave is actually used as a name for Mary :
Per te nunc Evae taedia
Sint nobis oblata,
Tu Eva trans versata
Mutans luctum in gaudium,
Ex hoc Ave vocata.
(Anal. hymn. xxx. p. 233.)
The contrast between Eva and Ave was developed in detail by Gautier de
Coincy in his Les Miracles de la Sainte Vierge, pp. 737 seg.
522 THE SACEED SHEINE
39. Reproductions in Rohault de Fleury, Z'tfvangiU, L pis. iv. and viii.
40. Of. the manuscript illustrations from the ninth and tenth centuries,
reproduced in Rohault de Fleury, op. dt. i. pis. vi. and vii.
41. Of. the reliefs from the cathedral at Barga and the church of S. Bartolomeo
at Pistoja, reproduced by Venturi, op. dt. pp. 144-145. This warding off
is expressed most dramatically when Mary, with a powerful movement,
stretches out her left hand on a level with her head. Cf. the relief on the font
in S. Giovanni in Fonte at Verona (beginning of twelfth century) reproduced
in Venturi, op. dt. p. 142.
42. Capitals on the fa$ade at Poitiers, Rohault de Fleury, op. cit. pi. vii.
Giovanni Pisano's pulpit in S. Andrea at Pistoja.
43. Cf. e.g. Fra Angelico's Annunciation pictures in S. Marco at Florence,
Piero dei Franceschi's picture in the Pinacoteca at Perugia, Filippo Lippi's
picture in the National Gallery, and Perugino's fresco in Montefalco.
44. Simone di Martino in the Uffizi, Donatello in S. Croce, and Ghirlandajo
in S. Maria Novella all at Florence.
45. Botticelli, in the Uffizi.
46. Tintoretto, Scuola di S. Rocco at Venice.
47. Lotto, S. Maria sopra Mercanti at Recanati (reproduced in Reinach,
Repertoire, ii. p. 50).
48. Paolo Veronese, in the Uffizi.
49. Titian, in the cathedral at Treviso.
50. Cf. e.g. the extracts from Guillaume de Deguileville's Ptterinage de
Jesuscrist, reproduced in Hultman's Guillaume de DeguiUville> pp. 169-170.
51. For the erotic conception held by the mediaeval poets of the relationship
between God and Mary cf. Ktichenthal, Die Mutter Gottes, p. 44. Even in so
ecclesiastical a work as Bonaventura's (?) Psalter, it is expressly said that it
was Mary's beauty which drew God down from Heaven :
Specieni tuam et decorem tuum
Altissimi filius concupiscit.
BONA.VENTITBE, Psautier, p. 105 (Psaume xlix.).
This conception has received its most poetical expression in the idea that
Mary's beauty, like the perfume of a flower, went up to Heaven to draw the
Son down to a marriage with human flesh. Thus it is sung in a sequence
from an old French missal :
Tu rosa, tu lilium
Cujus Dei filium
Carnis ad connubium
Traxit odor.
GUEKANGEB, L'Anndc Utwgique, iv. p. 354.
52. The comparison between Mary and the Shunammite Abisag is met with
in numerous pious songs. For curious instances see Analccta hymnica, v. p. 60 ;
xxxii. pp. 11 and 160 ; xxxvi. p. 12.
In a Swedish song-cycle on the joys of Mary, Medeltidsdikter, pp. 172 seq.
(Sv. Fornskr. Sallsk. Saml.), we read :
Thu iist the sama konung davitis
the vanaste Abisag Sunamitis
thz war een utwald skon iomfru
niz henne wilde konungen hafwa sin roo.
NOTES TO CHAPS. XIV-XV 523
53. Of. e.g. Konrad von Wiirzburg, Die goldene Sckmiede, and the passages
from mediaeval German poetry quoted by Wilhelm Grimm in his introduction
to that poem, pp. xxix-xxx. We find the Phoenix recognised even in early
Christian literature as a symbol of the Resurrection and the renewal of life, but
the analogy between Mary and the pyre probably dates from the Middle Ages.
Of. Ebert, Literatur des MittelaUers, i. pp. 94 seq.j iii. pp. 77 seq.
54. The most naive expression of this idea occurs in the 21st of Theodoricus
Petri's Cantiones pine et antiquae, p. 31 (reproduced in Klemming, Piae
cantiones, ii. p. 40 ; and in Woodward, Piae cantiones, p. 167) :
Paranymphus adiens
Virgtnem laetanter
Verbum summi nuntians
Nymphale gratanter.
The old Finnish translation dots the i by frankly letting Gabriel convey a
love-greeting to Mary :
Puhemies tuli taevahast,
Tygho nuoren neidzyisen ;
Herrald ilmoitt ihanast
Cosiosanan suloisen.
(Wanhain Suomen maan Piispain laulud, p. 2.)
As is well known, it has been proved that many of the Piae cantiones,
which were all supposed to have been written in Finland, recur in early
mediaeval MSS. from Germany, France, and Bohemia. Cf. Lagerborg, " Var
aldsta konstdiktning " in Forhandlingar och Uppsatser 20 (Svenska Litteratur-
sallskapet i Finland}. Also the poem quoted here is found it was Chevalier's
Repertorium hymnologicum which first directed our attention to it in a foreign
collection. It is reproduced in Dreves's Cantiones Bohemicae (Anal. hymn. i.
p. 83 ; cf. also Woodward, op. cit. p. 260). The text given there, however,
differs in one important respect from the edition of the Piae cantiones :
Paranymphus adiit
Virginem laetanter,
Verbum surnmi nuntians
Nymphulae gratanter.
If Dreves's reading is the correct one, it is due to a change of a for u
(nymphale for nymphwlae) that the idea of a love-message has been introduced
into religious poetry.
In the later mediaeval pictures Gabriel is often a handsome young man, who
smiles at the Virgin with an almost arch confidence. Such a graceful-erotic
interpretation, however, conflicts openly with the religious point of view. The
conception of the Annunciation could, without the subject losing its lofty
import, borrow features from the ideas of the mystery of human existence, but
there is nothing religious in those works of art in which the angel's visit to
Mary has been the subject of merely gay and graceful compositions.
CHAPTEE XV
1. Hennecke, Neutestamentliche Apokryphen, p. 336.
2. Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu nacfi den Apokryplu'ii, pp. 77 scy.
524 THE SACEED SHKINE
3. Lehner, Die Marienverehrung, pp, 34 seq. ; Lucius, Heiligenkult^ p. 427 ;
Livius, The Blessed Virgin, passim.
4. Ephrairn Syrus, ECymni, ed. Lamy, ii. p. 570 ; Livius, op. cit. p. 428.
5. Gaudentius, translated in Livius, op. cit. p. 216.
6. Coelius Sedulius, in the famous hymn, A solis ortus cardine. In some
editions, as Pair. Lat. xix. col. 764, and Clement, Carmina e poetis Ghristianis
excerpta, the last verse runs : Virgo creavit filinm.
7. Ennodius, Hymnus sanctae Mariae (Anal. hymn. 1. p. 67).
8. Venantius Fortunatus, Opera (Pair. Lat. Ixxxviii. col. 265).
9. In Chevalier's JZepertorium hymnologicum no less than seven separate songs
are given which begin with these lines. In the supplement to Chevalier's work
the list is increased by five more.
10. Gautier, in a note to Adam de S. Victor, (JHuvres, ii. p. 215.
11 Cf. a poem of Guido de Basoches, printed in Mone, Lateinische Hymnen,
ii. p. 35 ; also an anonymous song, ibid. p. 39.
In Paulus Diaconus's assumption-hymn, "Quis possit amplo famine prae-
potens, " we read :
Strophe 5
Verbo tumescit latior aethere
Alvus replentem saecula continens.
Anal. hymn. 1. p, 123, and xiv.A p. 108.
A sequence to Mary, discovered in a fourteenth -century manuscript, ex-
presses itself still more unreservedly :
Virgo dulcis Maria
E coelo salutatur
Et verbo fecundatur
Quis praesentit ilia.
Anal. hymn. ix, p. 75.
12. Pfannenschmid, Die Geiszler de$ Jahres 13j$, in Eunge, Die Lieder und
Melodien d&r Geiszler, p. 164.
13. S. Bernardus, 8ermo II. infesto Pentecostes (Pair. Lat. clxxxiii. col. 327.
Abridged quotation in Hofmann, op. cit. p. 77).
14. Cf. the quotations from the sermons of Zeno and Ephraim given by
Livius, op. cit. pp. 206 and 99, and Lehner, op. cit. p. 34.
15. Ambrosius, Jffymnus IV. (" Veni, redemptor gentium"), str. 2 :
Won ex virili semine,
Sed mystico spiramine,
Verbum Dei factum caro,
Fructusque ventris floruit.
Patr. Lat. xvi. col. 1473.
Cf. also Anal. hymn, xxxil p. 141, "Ave, fiatu concepisti" ; and v. p. 58 :
Aura sancti spiritus
Crescit venter coelitus
Itfulli viro cognitus.
16. Schneegans, Die italienishen Geiszlerlieder, in Runge, op. cit. p. 84.
17. Ibid. p. 85.
NOTES TO CHAP. XV 525
18. Birgitta, Vppenbarelser, iv. p. 72.
19. Cf. Saintyves, Les Vierges meres, ch. iv. (Fecondations meteorologiques) ;
Hartland, The Legend of Perseus, 1 pp. 136 and 180 ; Him, The Origins of Art,
pp. 218-219.
20. Schneegans, in Runge, op. dt. p. 85.
21. Birgitta, op. cit. i. p. 28.
22. Mechthild von Magdeburg, Offeribarungen, pp. 116-117.
23. Cornelius a Lapide, Les Tre'sors, ed. by I'abbe" Barbier, iii p. 143.
24. Heinrich von Loufenberg, Die Wunder der Menschwerdung Gottes,
reprinted in Wackernagel, Das deutsche Kirchenlied, ii. p. 530.
25. Cf. Schuck, Varldslitteraturens historia, ii. p. 114.
26. The predominant place occupied by the rain, the dew, and the moisture
as symbols of blessing is shown by the following passages : Genesis xxvii. 28 ;
Numbers xxiv. 7 ; Deut. xxxii. 2 ; 2 Sam. i. 21 ; 1 Kings viii. 35 ; Prov. xix.
12 ; Isaiah xii. 3, xix. 5, xxvi. 19, xxvii. 3, xxix. 23, xxxii. 2, xxxv. 7, xli.
18, xliv. 3, xlv. 8, xlviii. 20, xlix. 10, Iv. 10, Iviii. 11 ; Jeremiah ii. 13, iii. 3,
xiv. 22, xvii. 8 ; Hosea vi. 3, xiv. 6 ; Joel ii. 23 ; Acts xiv. 17 ; Jude v. 12.
27. Cf. the chapter on prayer and grace in S. Teresa's Vida, summarised in
Graham, Santa, Teresa, ii. pp. 207-208 ; and Bunyan, The Pilgrim's Progress,
Part I. (Christian with the Interpreter).
28. La Bouillerie, Symbolisine de la nature, i. pp. 69 seq. The following
lines from Adam de S. Victor's sequence to Peter and Paul are significant :
Hi sunt nubes coruscantes,
Terrain cordis irrigantes
Kunc rore, nunc pluvio.
For a detailed criticism see Gautier, CEuvres d'Adam de S. Victor , ii. p. 49 ;
and Misset, Les Proses d'Adam de S. Victor, p. 101.
29. Cf. the quotations from patristic literature given in Lehner, op. dt. p. 32.
30. Cornelius a Lapide, Les Tre'sors, iii. p. 203.
31. Cf. Durand, National, iii. pp. 166-167, v. p. 48. Of the poems, in which
the Incarnation is compared with the fall of the dew or the rain on the earth,
it is sufficient to cite a few examples. In one of the Pseud o-Ambrosian hymns
the text already quoted is paraphrased thus :
Rorem dederunt aethera
Nubesque justum fuderunt,
Patens accepit Dominum,
Terra salutem generans.
, L'Annte liturgique, ii. 2. p. 232.
The analogy between the fruitfulness of the earth and of the Virgin is
ingeniously expressed in the poem "Res est admirabilis " (Mone, op. ciL ii.
p. 78, Anal. hymn. xxxi. p. 141) :
Strophe 3. Sicut ros in gramme
Descendit in virgine
Verbum summi patris,
Patrem non deseruit
Et mortalem induit
Formam alvo matris.
526 THE SACEED SHRINE
Sicut terrain pluvia,
Sic divina gratia
Virginem fecundat,
Sanctus earn spiritus
A peccato penitus
Abluit et mundat.
In a " Jubilus S. Bernard! Abbatis," which, however, is not included in any
collection of Bernard's poems, the unknown bard exclaims :
Salve, mater castitatis,
Nee adhaeres nuntiatis,
Donee certa fieres,
Salve virginali flore,
Quod coelesti fusa rore,
Filium conciperes.
MONE, op. cit. ii. p. 280.
32. Clerc, Psaumes, ii. p. 23.
33. Cornelius a Lapide, op. cit. iii. p. 203.
34. According to the Vulgate, Ps. Ixxi.
35. Of. Buhl, Psalmerne, pp. 465 and 468.
36. Jungfru Marie ortagard (ed. Svenska Fornskr. Sallsk.), pp. 98-99, 228.
Of. also Ivo Carnotensis, Sermones (Pair. Lat. clxii. col. 536).
37. Johannes der Monch von Salzburg, Uterus mrgineus (printed in
Wackernagel, Das deutsche Kirchenlicd, ii. p. 453).
38. Hugo de S. Victor, Allegoriae in Vetus Test. lib. iv. cap. ii. Patr.
Lat. clxxv. col. 678 (quoted by Gautier, (Euvres d'Adam de 8. Victor, ii.
p. 132).
39. La Broise, La, Sainte Fierge, p. 24. The same thought is expressed in a
poem ascribed to Abelard :
Sicut vellus maduit
De coelesti rore,
Sic venter intumuit
Servato pudore.
Nee vellus corrumpitur
Imbre pluvxali,
Nee pudor amittitur
In conceptu tali.
ROHAULT BK FLEUKY, La Vierge, i. p. 46.
Neither by Migne nor Dreves is the poem included among Abelard 's
writings.
40. Lecanu, Histoire de la Sainte Purge, p. 74; Auber, Histoire du
symbolisme, ii. p. 88.
41. Meinander, Medeltida altarsk&p, p. 144.
42. Ephraim Syrus, Hymni> ed. Lamy, ii. p. 744 ; cf. also Jungfru Marie
ortagard, p. 68.
43. Ambrosius, XTomitia XV., quoted by Cornelius a Lapide, op. cit. iii.
p. 203.
NOTES TO CHAPS. XV-XVI 527
44. Medeltidsdikter, p. 71.
45. Mechthild, Offeribarungen, p. 15.
46. Song of the time of Henry VI., printed by Shipley, Carmina Mariana,
p. 60.
47. Rohault de Flemy, L jZmngile, i. p. 11, and pi. ii.
48. Taddeo di Bartolo in the Accademia at Siena ; Simone Martini in the
Uffizi at Florence.
49. Piero del Franceschi in S. Francesco at Arezzo ; Lorenzo Lotto in S. Maria
sopra Mercanti at Recanati ; Mariotto Albertinelli in the Galleria antica e
moderna at Florence ; Antoniazzo Romano in the Lateran Museum, at Rome ;
and in S. Maria sopra Minerva at Rome.
50. Fra Angelico in the Prado at Madrid ; Filippo Lippi in the Doria Gallery
at Rome.
51. Benedetto Bonfigli in the Palazzo del Commune at Perugia.
52. Glass-painting in the Benedictine Church at Freising ; Bergner, Hand-
buch, p. 479.
53. Crivelli in the National Gallery at London ; Andrea del Sarto in the
Uffizi.
54. It is useless to enumerate all the numberless pictures in which the dove
and the Christ-child descend upon the Virgin. A rich selection of reproductions
is given in Reinach's Repertoire. Cf. also Grant Allen, Evolution in Italian Art.
An exception to the time-honoured arrangement is made in Domenico Panetti's
Annunciation in the Pinacoteca at Ferrara, in which, contrary to all pious
descriptions, the Son heads the procession of the Trinity to Mary. Timoteo
della Vite (in the Brera at Milan) makes the " putto '* float down on the back of
the dove.
55. Cf. Montault, Iconographie, ii. pp. 115 and 216. A curious allegorising
of the doctrine that the Saviour's earthly being was formed of elements from
Mary's body is found in the 64th chapter of G-esta, JRomanorum (Keller's ed.
pp. 100, 101).
56. Cf. e.g. Bruder Hansen's Marienlieder, p. 295 :
flammerende morghenstern,
Got ist eyn kerz, du eyn lucern ;
Du bis die nus, her is die kern.
CHAPTEE XVI
1. Cf. Andrea della Robbia's Annunciation, on the wall of the Ospedale
degli Innocenti at Florence. The same attitudes are found in Fra Angelico' s
Annunciation in S. Marco at Florence. These two are the most famous of the
many works in which the Virgin and the angel kneel to one another. Mary's
prayer-desk often forms the centre of the composition.
2. Cf. Andrea del Sarto in the Palazzo Pitti at Florence, Spinello Aretino in
S. Annunziata at Arezzo, and Filippo Lippi in the Pinakothek at Munich.
Numerous examples are given by Detzel, Christliche Ikonographie, i. p. 167.
3. Detzel, op. cit. p. 168.
4. Cf. e.g. the poom " Thalamus beatae Mariae Virginis " (Analecta hymnica,
xxxi. p. 137) :
528 THE SACKED SHEINE
Strophe 1. quam pulchrum thalamum,
Jesu, construxisti,
In sole tabernaculum
Tuum posuisti,
Quod virtutum floribus
Undique sparsisti,
Quando novem mensibus
Ibi quievisti.
5. Examples of these similes will be given in Chapter XXII. of this work.
6. For information about this kind of Mary-pictures see Otte, Handbuch, ii.
p. 901 ; Schultz, Legende vom Leben der Jung/ran, p. 57 ; Kraus, GescMchte der
christlichen Kunst, ii. p. 287 ; Bergner, Handbuch, p. 480 (Ivory statuettes,
glass-paintings, wooden statues, tapestries and pictures from various places in
Germany) ; Montault, Iconographie, ii. pp. 115, 219-220, 225 ; Broussolle, De la,
Conception d V Annonciation, p. 3 44,, and De la Visitation d la Passion, pp. 50 and
69 ; Witkowski, Les Accouchements dans les beaux-arts, etc., pp. 15-16 (Glass-
paintings, bas-relief, statues, and pictures in France) ; Pachinger, Die Mutter-
schaft in der Malerei, pp. 22-34.
In a wooden group of the Visitation, from Lappi Church, now preserved
in the Eaumo Museum, the embryo is represented on Mary's body (photo-
graph in the Historical Museum at Helsingfors, description in Meinander,
Altarslc&p, p. 309). In Salo Church, near Brahestad, in an Annunciation
painted in 1641, the embryo is seen in Mary's womb (Aspelin, Suomalaisen
taiteen historia, p. 35).
7. Montault, op. cit. ii. p. 220. As it is only the Second Person of the Trinity
that was incarnated in the Virgin's womb, these pictures have been regarded
as heretical. Gerson is even said to have had destroyed, in the interests of
the true faith, a picture of Mary with a representation of the Trinity within
her. The words of greeting, "Salve Mater pietatis, Et totius trinitatis
Nobile triclinium," occur in a poem of Adam de S. Victor (CEuvrespo&tiques, ed.
Gautier, ii. p. 192). They serve as the inscription for Fra Angelico's great
Annunciation fresco in S. Marco at Florence.
8. Montault, op. cit. ii. p. 220 (two ivory statues in the Louvre and the
Lyons Museum). Curiously enough, the French author does not mention the
great ' ' vierge ouvrante " which is still preserved in Notre Dame du Mur at
Morlaix.
9. Cf. Analecta hymnica, xv. p. 113. Super " Magnificat " (Ave, nostra spes
in vita) :
Portasti regem gloriae
Nil habens anxietatis,
Manente pudicitia
Floreque virginitatis.
Also, Anal. hymn, xxxiv. p, 73 (Gaude, virgo mater Chris ti) :
Partus tuus partus laetus,
Non in partu tuo fletus,
ISTullus moeror, nxillus metus,
Dum portasti filium.
See also p. 197 in the preceding ; also Meyer, Handbuch der neutesta~
NOTES TO CHAP. XVI 529
mentlichen Apokryphen, p. 125, for the way in winch, the legends, in the story
of the journey to Bethlehem, describe Mary's feelings during her pregnancy.
10. Trombelli, S. Mariae vita, in Bourasse, Summa, i. cols. 701 seq.
11. S. Bernard, In dominica infra octavam Assiimptionis sermo (fair. Lat.
clxxxiii. col. 431).
12. Paroissien complet selon I'usage de Paris et de Rome, p. 599.
13. Anal hymn. xvi. p. 50 (" Generosa virgo surgens ").
14. Detzel, Ohristliche Ikonographie, i. p. 171.
15. Faber, Our Lady and the JSucharist, p. 26.
16. Detzel, op. cit. i. p. 174 ; Broussolle, De la Visitation, etc., pp. 46 and 66
(quotation from a visitation sermon by Bossuet, in which Mary is compared
with the Church and Elizabeth with the Synagogue).
17. Witkowski (Les Accouchements dans les beaux-arts, pp. 10-12) points out
that, as a rule, the artists represented Mary's condition as further advanced
than Elizabeth's. He specially cites Zeitblom's picture in the Stuttgart Gallery,
the pictures of Raphael and Giulio Romano in the Prado at Madrid, and Rubens's
great picture of the Visitation in Notre Dame at Antwerp.
It is, it seems, the blessed woman in both senses of the term that men
desired to do homage to in pictures of the Visitation.
18. Anal. hymn, xlviii. pp. 421 seq., rhymed office for the Visitation
Festival, composed by Johannes a Jenstein, Archbishop of Prague (t!400).
The words quoted in the text occur in the 5th strophe of the fourteenth poem
( " Assunt festa jubilaea ") :
Sacri junguntur uteri,
Milesque, sui Domini
Praesentiam dum percipit,
Hunc exultando suscipit.
The same poem is printed without information as to the authorship in Mone,
Lateinische ffymnen, ii. p. 116.
Among the poetic descriptions of the embrace of the pious women, the
following also deserves a place Anal. hymn. x. p. 76, De Visitatione B.M.V.
(" Ave, praegnans admiranda") :
Strophe 6, b, Junguntur uteri
Matrum et pueri
Se salutantium.
quam suavis amplexus
Matrum, quarum idem nexus
Gonjungit et filios !
Quorum unus est salvator,
Alter verbi praedicator
Docens ore alios.
19. Lehner, Die Marienverehrung, p. 336 ; Rohault de Fleury, L'jZvangile, i.
pp. 20 seq. ; Kraus, op. cit. i. pp. 188-189 (about the now destroyed fresco
in S. Valentino at the Via Flaminia outside Rome) ; Venturi, La Madone, p.
197 (for the relief on the chair of Maximianus at Ravenna cf. Garrucci, Storia,
vi. p. 18); Broussolle, De la Visitation, etc., pp. 22-57 (Ampulla at Monza,
chest in the Louvre, MSS. illustrations, sarcophagus at Ravenna, etc.). The
last-named work should, according to Garrucci, op. cit. v. p. 71, be interpreted
as a representation of Mary's and Joseph's marriage.
530 THE SACEED SHEINE
20. Bas-relief of the twelfth century (reproduced in Venturi, Let Madone,
p. 197). Elizabeth laying her hand on Mary's waist is a motive also met with
in pictures from an earlier date, e.g. on the chancel reliefs in Notre Dame at
Paris.
21. Of. especially the great statues at Reims, Amiens, and Chartres.
22. Of. Benedictus XIV. De D.N. Jesu Ghristi matrisque ejus festis, p. 275 ;
Detzel, op. Git. i. p. 176 ; Broussolle, De la Visitation, etc., p. 52.
23. G-hirlandajo in S. Maria Novella at Florence, Carpaccio in the Museo
Correr at Venice, Sebastian del Piombo in the Louvre.
24. Mariotto Albertinelli in the Uffizi.
25. Ambrosius advances it as a proof of Mary's humility that she who was
younger indeed, but who stood higher in rank, hastened to the assistance of
the older woman (Expositio in Lucam ; Pair. Lat. xv. col. 1641), quoted in
Broussolle, De la Visitation, etc., p. 52).
26. Little Children's Little Book, printed in "Publications of the Early
English Text Society," Original Series, xxxii. p. 265 (quoted in Bridge tt. Our
Lady's Dowry, p. 74).
How vividly the idea of Mary's and Elizabeth's mutual greetings was realised
appears from the fact that the French sawyers celebrated the Visitation festival
as a holiday, because the holy women had bowed to one another in the same
way as two workmen who cleave a plank (Male, L'Art religieux du XIII s
siecle, p. 335).
27. Of. some glass-paintings and pictures at Lyons, described by Montault,
op. cit. ii. p. 225 ; and Witkowski, op. cit. p. 15.
28. Faber, Our Lady and the Eucharist, pp. 34 seq.
CHAPTEE XVII
1. Rabelais probably wished to parody the doctrine of the Incarnation when
he made Gargantua be born through his mother's ear.
2. Greorgius Pisida (the poem is ascribed to this writer by Migne), " Hymnus
acathistus," Patrologia Graeca, xcii coll 1335-1348, especially col. 1343.
3. Herzog, La Saint e Vierge, p. 39 ; Lehner, Die Marienverehrung, pp.
123 $eq.
4. Herzog, op. cit. p. 41.
5. Lehner, op. cit. pp. 126 seq. (quotations from Zeno of Verona, Ephraim
Syrus, Basilius, etc.).
6. Ambrosius, De institutione Virginis (Pair. Lat. xvi. col. 234). Of. also
the pseudo-Ambrosian hymn "A solis ortus eardine," Patr. Lat. xvii. col.
1210.
7. Herzog, op. cit. pp. 45 sag. ; Lehner, op. cit. pp. 136 seq. ; Lucius, Anfdnge
des Heiligenkults, pp. 427 seq.
8. Hieronymus, Mpistola 48, Ad Pammachiutn, pro libris contra Jomnianum
(Patr. Lat. xxii. col, 510). Some editors read "jpurissima petra," others
9. S. Ephraim Syrus, Opera, ed. Assemani, v. pp. 422-423 (Sermo 8, "De
nativitate Domini"), cf. p. 412 ; Carmina Nisibena, ed. Bickell, p. 150 ("Hymnus
de Domino nostro et de morte et diabolo ") ; Hymni, ed. Lamy, ii. p. 570.
10. Patr. Lat. xvii. col. 1245 ("Rex sempiterne coelitum ").
11. Liguori, Glories of Mary, p. 459.
NOTES TO CHAP. XVII 531
12. Interian de Ayala, 181 Pintor cristiano y erudito, ii. pp. 156 seq. ;
W. Meyer, " Wie 1st die Auferstehung Christ! dargestellt worden ? " in Nach-
richtend. K. Ges. d. Wiss. zu Gottingen, Phil. -hist. Classe, 1903, pp. 236 seq. ;
and ** Fragmenta Burana," in Festschrift zum 150/. Bestehen der Ges. d. Wiss. zu
Gottingen, p. 61.
13. The History of the Blessed Virgin, Syriac texts with English transla-
tions, p. 91.
14. S. Ephraim Syrus, Opera, ed. Assemani, v. p. 422.
15. Detzel, Christliche Ikonographie, i. pp. 471 and 481.
16. In the art of the eleventh and twelfth centuries some separate pictures
have been found of the Resurrection itself (cf. Male, IS Art religieux du XUI*
siecle, p. 229).
17. Male (op. cit. p. 229) points out that according to ancient explanations of
the Gospel the stone in front of Christ's grave represents the stone tablet on
which the old laws of the covenant were inscribed. It covered the Saviour in
the same way as in the Old Testament the letter concealed the spirit, but
when Jesus arose the Law had to give place to the Gospel. Thus it was possible
to introduce a theological idea into the pictures in which the lid of the grave
lies cast off by the grave-side.
A further justification of these compositions could be found in the fact
likewise pointed out by Male, op. cit. p. 177 that according to Christian typo-
logy the Resurrection was foreshadowed by the miracle of Samson when he
lifted up the gates of his prison at Gaza and carried them up to the mountains ;
cf. e.g. Adam de S. Victor's Resurrection hymn ("Zyma vetus expurgetur "),
GSuvres, ed. Gautier, i. p. 90. Ingenious as these explanations are, Ma"le, in
his later work, IS Art religieux de la fin du moyen dge, pp. 50 seq. t has left them
quite unemployed. Through his own, and earlier by Wilhelm Meyer's import-
ant researches, it has been proved more surely than ever before how intimately
the religious theatre influenced pictorial art. It can even be shown easily
that the earlier Easter dramas treat only of the demonstration of the miracle,
i.e. the visit of the women to the grave j while the theatre of the twelfth
and thirteenth centuries ventured to allow an actor to represent the Risen
Saviour Himself. On all these questions cf. Cohen, Histoire de la, mise en scene f
pp. 115 seq.
18. W. Meyer, "Wie ist die Auferstehung dargestellt?" p. 249.
19. Resurrection pictures in which the red unbroken seal is, with clear
intention, exposed to view, are especially common in German art. In the
old Pinakothek at Munich many examples of this type of picture are to be
found.
20. Cf. the sarcophagus reliefs reproduced in Garrucci, fttoria, v,
21. Springer, "Quellen der Kunstdarstellungen im Mittelalter," Her, d.
Verh. d. sachs. Ges. d. Wiss. xxxi. pp. 36 seq. ; Mansberg, Dasz Jiohe liet von der
maget, pp. 29-30 ; Male, I? Art religieux du XIII G siecle, p. 181. Strauss (Das
Leben Jesu, p. 155) thinks that the representation of the seal on Jesus' grave
was borrowed from the narrative of Daniel and the lions' den.
In a sequence from Missale Upsaliense (Klemming, Piae cantiones, pp. 145-
146) the lions' den is compared to Mary's womb :
Danielque maasam cibi
Suscipit immissam sibi ;
Intrat massa claustrum ibi
Clausum habens aditum.
532 THE SACKED SHRINE
Verbum patris plus potenter
Coneipit et parit venter,
Gravidata tain decenter
Per umbrantem spirit um.
22. Herzog, op. cit. p. 47.
23. Ibid. p. 48.
24. Fortunate, De Leontio episcopo (Pair. Lat. Ixxxviii. col. 79).
25. Anal, hymn, xlviii. p. 263.
26. Mone, Lateinische Hymnen, ii. p. 63 ("Salve, porta chrystallina").
27. Birgitta, Upperibarelser, i. p. 3.
28. Durand, national, i. p. 311 (Barth61emy's notes).
29. Wackernagel, Das deutsche Kirchenlied, vi. p. 520 (the song "Der Tag
der 1st so Freudenreich"). Of. Wernlier, Driu Liet wn der Maget, p. 62, and
the Swedish poem-cycle on Mary's Seven Joys (Medeltidsdilster, p. 57) :
Sa foddes af dig, o jungfru ren
Guds son ihesus utan smitta och men
Ratt sa som solen skiner igenom det glas
Som helt och klart och fagert ar.
30. Bruder Hansens Marienlieder, pp. xviii. and 98.
31. Meyer in ffandbuch zu den Neuteskamentlichen Apokryplien, p. 127.
32. As it appears, the Protestant translation does not correspond with the
Vulgate in the matter of the phrase " In sole posnit tabernaculum suum,"
which had so great an importance in regard to Catholic monstrance and
Madonna symbolism.
33. Ambrosius, In nativitate Domini (" Veni, redemptor gentium "), quoted
according to CUment, Carmina e poetis Christianis excerpta, p. 48.
34. Augustine, Confessiones, lib. iv. cap. 12; Leo IX., "In vigilia Nativi-
tatis Domini," in Anal. hymn. 1. p. 304 ("Egredere, Emmanuel").
35. Sedulius, Carmen pcuschaU in Patr. Lat. xix. col. 597.
36. Hofmann, Das Leben Jesu nach den Apokryphen, p. 109.
37. "Le maltre de Fl^malle's" picture at Dijon may be cited as one of
the most characteristic examples of this kind of Nativity picture.
38. Jacobus de Voragine, Legenda aurea, p. 45 ; Mt fornsvcnskt legendarium,
i. p. 69.
CHAPTER XVIII
1. It is not part of our purpose to give a complete account of the treatment
of the birth of Jesua by poets and painters. In the histories of literature and
art this matter has been the subject of detailed investigations. Thus, to give
a single instance, it has been shown how the apocryphal gospels and the local
traditions of Bethlehem led to the sacred event being made to take place in a
cave or a shed, and not in an ordinary stable. Many interesting theories have
even been represented about the two animals the ox and the ass which,
according to the legends and pictures, warm the little Child with their breath.
All these questions, however, have no immediate connection with the pictures
of the Madonna. We therefore put them aside, in order to limit our attention
to those features of the Nativity-motive which bear upon the ideas of Mary's
pure virginity and high motherhood.
NOTES TO CHAP. XVIII 533
2. Detzel, Christliche Ikonographie^. i. p. 181.
3. Venturi, La Madone, p. 219.
4. Detzel, op. cit. p. 183 ; Venturi, op. cit. p. 221 ; Rohault de Fleury,
L'JZvangile, i. pp. 43 seq. ; Broussolle, Le Christ de la Ugende dorte, pp. 43
seq. ; Rietschel, Weihnachten, pp. 22 seq.
5. Trombelli, S. Mariae vita, in Bourasse, Summa, i. col. 766 seq.
6. Grimouard de S. Laurent, Guide de I'art chr&ien, iv. pp. 127 seq. That it
is the water which is purified by contact with the Saviour's body is often pointed
out in speaking of Baptism. Crashaw has composed two epigrams on this
idea (Poems, pp. 30 and 73) :
Felix o, sacros cui sic licet ire per artus !
Felix ! dum lavat hunc, ipsa lavatur aqua.
Each blest drop, on each blest limme,
Is wasn't it self, in washing Him :
Tis a gemme while it stayes here,
"While it falls hence, 'tis a teare.
7. Broussolle, op. cit. p. 44.
8. G. de S. Laurent, op. cit. iv. p. 127.
9. Hieronymus, De perpetua mrginitate B. Mariae (Pair. Lat. xidii. cols.
201 and 212), quoted in Male, UArt religieux du XIII* sieclc, p. 248.
10. Zeno Veronensis (t about 380), De nativitate Domini, ii. (Patr. Lat. xi.
col. 414), quoted in Lehner, Die Maricnverehrung, p. 126. The translation
is not quite verbal.
11. Bonaventura, Betraktelser, p. 344 ; Vita Christi, fol. vii. verso.
12. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, ii. pp. 280-287.
13. Mechthild, Offenbarungen, pp. 260-261 ; Mevelationes Gertrudianae et
Mechtildianae, ii. p. 468.
14. This excuse is cited even by Molanus, who otherwise corrects the
unconscious heresy of artists with unflinching severity (De historia sacrarum
imaginum, pp. 436 seq. ).
15. Male, L'Art religieux du XIII 6 siecle } pp. 248 seq. ; and L'Art religieux
de la fin du moyen dge, pp. 34 seq. The two nurses are retained in thirteenth
and fourteenth century Italian art, but disappear from thirteenth -century
French painting, to return after 1380.
16. Broussolle, Le Christ de la Ltgende Dore'e, p. 39.
17. Ephraim Syrus, Opera, ed. Assemani, Syriace et latine, ii. p. 416,
quoted in Augusti, Denkwurdigkeiten, i p. 256.
18. Cf. e.g. the Italian " lauda" ascribed to Jacopone da Todi :
Quando tu 1 partoristi senza pena
La prima cosa, credo, che facesti
Si T adorasti, o di grazia plena.
Quoted according to Maffii, Lo swlgimento della lauda lirica in Mazzoni,
JUsercitazioni, p. 167.
19. Cf. Rotlies, Darstellungen des Fra Angelica , p. 20.
20. Cf. Jameson, Legends of the Madonna, p. 271.
21. According to Catholic belief this woman was Marta's servant, Saint
Marcella (Baring Gould, Lives of the Saints, viii. p. 616).
534 THE SACKED SHEINE
22. Of. En syndares omvandelse, the oldest known dramatic poem in Swedish.
Svenska medeltidsdikter och rim, pp. 122-136, 11. 290 seq., describe how Mary
calls on the Saviour for grace for the sinner's soul
In the French miracle plays many similar scenes occur ; cf. Miracles de
Nostre Dame) i. pp. 49 and 33.
See also Goffridus Vindocinensis (t 1132), Oratio ad Matrem Domini.
Analeda hymnica, L p. 405 (0 Maria gloriosa) :
Strophe 14. Qui assumpsit ex te carnem,
Exaudiet tuam precem ;
Nihil tibi denegabit
Quern mamilla tua pavit.
23. This type of picture is represented in Finland by the " Last Judgment "
in Lojo Church.
24. Of. Beda, In natali sanctae Dei genitricis. Anal. hymn. 1. p. 110
(Adesto, Christe, vocibus) :
Strophe 5. Beata cujus ubera
Summo repleta munere
Terris alebant unicam
Terrae polique gloriarn.
From the foregoing strophes it appears that this homage is directed to
Mary, and not, as might be concluded from the title of the poem, to Saint
Anne.
Rabanus Maurus, Hy -minus de natali Domini, Anal. hymn. 1. p. 187
(Lumen clarum rite fulget) :
Strophe 9. Quae divisit lucem ab umbris
Summi primum dextera,
Matris mammas, ecce, tractat
Lactis potum quaesitans.
Os praeclarum conditoris
Quod formavit saeculum,
En, admotum nunc libenter
Sugit matris ubera.
Bernardus Morlanensis, Mariale. Mhythmus V"., Anal. hymn. 1. p. 432
(Mater Christi, quae tulisti) :
Strophe 13. Tu portasti et lactasti
Benedicta domina,
Quern adorat, quern honorat
Mundi trina machina.
Adorabas et lactabas
Deum factum homincm,
Qui nos lavit et salvavit
Suum ponens sanguinem.
The moat characteristic of all the praises of Mary's breast are, however, the
two poems "Be uberibus B. Mariae Virginis," printed in Anal. hymn. xxxi.
pp. 145-146. The latter is so short that it may be quoted in full :
NOTES TO CHAP. XVIII 535
Mariae matris mammulae,
Nitentes velut faculae
Lac filio praebentes,
Ardoris sunt scintillulae
Quibus delentur maculae
Odore redolentes.
Velut'mala Punicorum
Fragrant, halitus istorum
Fugantes hostem saevum,
Laxant gesta nefandorum,
Stillant nectar per os florum
Salvantes nos per aevum.
Fluunt ut vitis pocula
Currentia per rivula
Summae deitatis.
Of. also the poems of Petrus Venerabilis in Anal. hymn, xlviii. pp. 235-239.
In " Bona venturas Psalterium" the holy breast is mentioned time after
time. Of. "Symbolum" and Psalms 15, 17, and 22, Psautier, pp. 29, 42,
45, and 55.
25. The earliest Christian pictures of a mother suckling a child are met with
in the catacombs of Priscilla. The motive is especially common among the
Flemish and Milanese painters (Jean Fouquet, Dirk Bouts Boltraffio, Andrea
Solario, etc.).
26. Grimouard de S. Laurent, Manuel de Vart chr&ien, p. 213, and Guide de
Vart chr&ien, iii. pp. 80-83 ; Barbier de Montault, Iconographie, ii. p. 227.
27. Jameson, op. cit. p. 271.
28. Proclus, Oratio de laudibus S. Mariae (Patrologia Graeca, Ixv. col. 690).
29. Pinicelli, Symbola Virginia, reprinted in Bourass6, Summa, iii. coll.
1-260 (comparison with "Caritas Romana," col. 95).
30. Mechthild, 0/enbarungen, pp. 262-263.
31. A symbolic conception of Mary's milk often appears in poetical praises
of Mary. Thus we read in some strophes interpolated in Bernardus Morlanensis'
Mariale (Anal. hymn. 1. p. 457) :
Fluat stilla de mamilla
Gloriosae virginis,
Fundat rorem, qui ardorem
Extinguat libidinis.
And Mid. p. 471 :
Lac distilla ex mamilla
Dulci ilia labiis,
Ut amicam te pudicam
Verbis dicam sobriis.
In the same way the milk is compared to the dew by Gautier do Coincy
(Miracles, p. 17) :
Haute pucele ! pure et monde,
De toi sovit la rousde
Dont as toute la riens du monde
Nome et arousee.
536 THE SACEED SHKINE
And by the author of the miracle play "Un pape qui vendi 1 basm "
(MiracUs de Nostre Dame, i. p. 396) :
Vierge, du lait de ta mamelle
Nous arouse et de ton doulx miel
Nous adoulcis, dame du ciel,
Par la doulceur de ta pitie
Et par 1'ardeur de t'amistie.
32. Mechthild, op. cit. pp. 15-19. The idea that the Madonna gives milk to
all believers appears finely in a poem in the Swedish collection of Latin hymns,
Piae cantione$ t p. 161 :
Super vinum et unguentum
tue mamme dant fomentum,
fove, lacta parvulos.
33. Birgitta, Uppenbarelser, ii. p. 249.
34. Ibid. ii. p. 250.
35. Ibid. iii. p. 36.
36. Mechthild, op. cit. p. 273.
37. Of. Mussafia, Marienlegendcn, i. pp. 28, 40-41, 44, 69 ; ii. p. 75 ; iii. p.
48 ; v. p. 12 ; Herzog, La Sainte Vierge, p. 81 ; Petit de Julleville, Histoire du
thtdtre en France, ii. p. 250.
38. Seuse ( = Suso), Deutsche Schriften, i. p. 74.
39. Cf. Acta Sanctorum, xxxviii. pp. 207-208.
40. Murillo's " S, Bernard of Clairvaux " in the Prado at Madrid is the best-
known illustration of this scene. A French picture by an unknown painter at
Angers is described by Broussolle, De la Visitation, etc., p. 225.
41. Marias sjufrojder (Svenska MedeltidsdiUer, p. 57) :
rosin bloma liwat frogdh oc gladhy monde thu faa,
tha thu hans faghirsta anlite forsta sin saa,
Oc lagdhe han ath thino bryste,
Swa lioflika thu han klappadhe oc kyste.
42. Ephraim Syrus, Hymni, ed. Lamy, ii. col. 542.
43. Ibid. col. 554.
44. Ibid. col. 622.
45. Ibid. col. 564.
46. Thode, Franz wn Assisi, pp. 451 scq.
47. Hase, Heilige und Propheten ( Werke, v. 1), p. 62 ; Sabatier, Vie de S.
Francois, p. 328 ; J0rgensen, Den Jiellige Frms, p. 213 ; Ancona, Origini del
teatro italiano, i. pp. 116 scq.
48. Ancona, op. cit. pp. 112 seq.
49. Bonaventura, BetrakUlser, p. 5 ; Vita Ukristi, fol. ix. verso.
50. Male, L'Art religieux du XIII$ticle, pp. 220-221 ; Broussolle, Le Christ
de la Legende Dorde, p. 37 (MSS. illustrations, reliquaries, and altar-piece from
Werden).
51. For a rich collection of reproductions see the works of R. de Fleury,
Venturi, and Broussolle already referred to.
52. The idea that, even when nursing the tender infant, Mary divined the
sufferings the Saviour would have to go through is one frequently expressed
in Catholic literature. As an example an extract from Jungfru Marie ortagard
(p. 109) may be cited : "But after she had conceived and born the Lord, and
NOTES TO CHAP. XVIII 537
saw and touched His holy members, His hands and His feet, she knew, mnch
more [enlightened] by the Holy Ghost than any prophets, that the offer of
pains, which are the nails and the spear, would bitterly penetrate His sacred
limbs, and in this way her sorrow was always increased."
Dom GueVanger points out (L'Anne'e liturgique, n. i. pp. 302-303) that even
at the Christmas festival men ought to recall the tears which the mother shed
in the foreknowledge that her Son would be a man of sorrows.
Gabriel Vicaire (Miides sur la poesie populaire, p. 59) quotes a Trench folk-
song, according to which Gabriel announces to Mary the Saviour's destiny :
L'ange Gabriel
Descendu de ciel
Auc son p'tit pot de miel
Demande a Marie :
Marie, dormez-vous?
Ni j* deurs et ni j' veille,
Je pense toujours
A mon p'tit J6sus.
L'avez-vous point vu ?
Oui, mort, je 1'ai vu,
Attache" en croix,
Ses p'tits pieds clones,
Ses petit' s mains jointes,
Coiff6es d'epinettes
Au faite de sa tete.
This naive poem deserves to be set beside the by no means naive late
Renaissance pictures, such as Albani's painting in the Uffizi, which represents
the Divine Child outstretched upon the ground and nailed to a little cross.
53. For fuller information about the Nativity motive see all the works referred
to, and also Sire"n, JDom Lorenzo Monaco, pp. 135 seq., and Giotto, pp. 124 seq.
54. Cf. Woerxnann, Geschichte der Kunst, ii. p. 156. For the development of
the motive in French art see Male, L'Art religieux du XIII* siecle, p. 296 ; I* Art
rel. de la fin du moyen dge, pp. 145 seq. Cf. also Montault, Iconographie, ii.
p. 228.
55. Montault, op. cit. ii. p. 228 ; Jameson, Legends of the Madonna, p. 59.
Huysmans (La Cathtdrale, p. 396) advances the, as it seems, unnecessary and
unjustifiable hypothesis that the bird in the hand of the Divine Child refers to
the clay figures which, according to the Book of Childhood, Jesus had
amused Himself by transforming into living birds. It is scarcely necessary to
mention that during modern times the conception of the symbolical meanings
that were attached to the apple, the grapes, and the birds has gradually
died out.
56. Baldovinetti, "Madonna and Child," in the Louvre. The picture was
formerly ascribed to Piero dei Franceschi.
57. Crashaw, "On the Blessed Virgin's Bashfulness," Poems, p. 76 :
That on her lap she casts her humble eye,
'TLs the sweet pride of her humilitie.
The fair starre is well fixt, for where, 0, where
Could she have fixt it on a fairer spheare ?
538 THE SACKED SHKINE
Tis Heaven, 'tis Heaven she sees, Heaven's God there lyes ;
She can see Heaven, and ne'er lift up her eyes ;
This new Guest to her eyes new laws has given,
'Twas once look up, 'tis now looke downe to Heaven.
58. Pictures in which the Madonna rubs her cheek on the Child's head are
met with as early as in Byzantine art ; cf. Brockhaus, "Die Kunst in den Athos-
klostern, p. 107 (on " Panagia Glykophilusa " at Philotea). It was Professor
J. J. Tikkanen who called my attention to this fact.
CHAPTER XIX
1. 
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