_Ital._ Santa Maria Egiziaca Penitente. _Fr._ Sainte Marie
l’Égyptienne, La Gipesienne, La Jussienne. (April 2, A.D. 433.)
I place the story of St. Mary of Egypt here, for though she had no real
connection with the Magdalene, in works of art they are perpetually
associated as _les bienheureuses pécheresses_, and in their personal
and pictorial attributes not unfrequently confounded. The legend of
Mary _Egyptiaca_ is long anterior to that of Mary Magdalene. It was
current in a written form so early as the sixth century, being then
received as a true history; but it appears to have been originally one
of those instructive parables or religious romances which, in the early
ages of the Church, were composed and circulated for the edification
of the pious. In considering the manners of that time, we may easily
believe that it may have had some foundation in fact. That a female
anchoret of the name of Mary lived and died in a desert of Palestine
near the river Jordan—that she there bewailed her sins in solitude
for a long course of years, and was accidentally discovered—is a very
ancient tradition, supported by contemporary evidence. The picturesque,
miraculous, and romantic incidents with which the story has been
adorned, appear to have been added to enhance the interest; and, in its
present form, the legend is attributed to St. Jerome.
‘Towards the year of our Lord 365, there dwelt in Alexandria a woman
whose name was Mary, and who in the infamy of her life far exceeded
Mary Magdalene. After passing seventeen years in every species of vice,
it happened that one day, while roving along the sea-shore, she beheld
a ship ready to sail, and a large company preparing to embark. She
inquired whither they were going? They replied that they were going
up to Jerusalem, to celebrate the feast of the true cross. She was
seized with a sudden desire to accompany them; but having no money,
she paid the price of her passage by selling herself to the sailors
and pilgrims, whom she allured to sin by every means in her power.
On their arrival at Jerusalem, she joined the crowds of worshippers
who had assembled to enter the church; but all her attempts to pass
the threshold were in vain; whenever she thought to enter the porch,
a supernatural power drove her back in shame, in terror, in despair.
Struck by the remembrance of her sins, and filled with repentance, she
humbled herself and prayed for help; the interdiction was removed, and
she entered the church of God, crawling on her knees. Thenceforward she
renounced her wicked and shameful life, and, buying at a baker’s three
small loaves, she wandered forth into solitude, and never stopped or
reposed till she had penetrated into the deserts beyond the Jordan,
where she remained in severest penance, living on roots and fruits,
and drinking water only; her garments dropped away in rags piecemeal,
leaving her unclothed; and she prayed fervently not to be left thus
exposed: suddenly her hair grew so long as to form a covering for
her whole person (or, according to another version, an angel brought
her a garment, from heaven). Thus she dwelt in the wilderness, in
prayer and penance, supported only by her three small loaves, which,
like the widow’s meal, failed her not, until, after the lapse of
forty-seven years, she was discovered by a priest named Zosimus. Of
him she requested silence, and that he would return at the end of a
year, and bring with him the elements of the holy sacrament, that she
might confess and communicate, before she was released from earth. And
Zosimus obeyed her, and returned after a year; but not being able to
pass the Jordan, the penitent, supernaturally assisted, passed over
the water to him; and, having received the sacrament with tears, she
desired the priest to leave her once more to her solitude, and to
return in a year from that time. And when he returned he found her
dead, her hands crossed on her bosom. And he wept greatly; and, looking
round, he saw written in the sand these words:—“O Father Zosimus, bury
the body of the poor sinner, Mary of Egypt! Give earth to earth, and
dust to dust, for Christ’s sake!” He endeavoured to obey this last
command, but being full of years, and troubled and weak, his strength
failed him, and a lion came out of the wood and aided him, digging with
his paws till the grave was sufficiently large to receive the body of
the saint, which being committed to the earth, the lion retired gently,
and the old man returned home, praising God, who had shown mercy to the
penitent.’
* * * * *
In single figures and devotional pictures, Mary of Egypt is portrayed
as a meagre, wasted, aged woman, with long hair, and holding in her
hand three small loaves. Sometimes she is united with Mary Magdalene,
as joint emblems of female penitence; and not in painting only, but in
poetry,—
Like redeemed Magdalene,
Or that Egyptian penitent, whose tears
Fretted the rock, and moisten’d round her cave
The thirsty desert.
Thus they stand together in a little rare print by Marc’ Antonio,
the one distinguished by her vase, the other by her three loaves.
Sometimes, when they stand together, Mary Magdalene is young,
beautiful, richly dressed; and Mary of Egypt, a squalid, meagre, old
woman, covered with rags: as in a rare and curious print by Israel von
Mecken.[321]
* * * * *
Pictures from her life are not common. The earliest I have met with
is the series painted on the walls of the Chapel of the Bargello, at
Florence, above the life of Mary Magdalene: they had been whitewashed
over. In seeking for the portrait of Dante, this whitewash has been in
part removed; and it is only just possible for those acquainted with
the legend to trace in several compartments the history of Mary of
Egypt.
1. Detached subjects are sometimes met with. In the church of San
Pietro-in-Pò, at Cremona, they preserve relics said to be those of Mary
of Egypt: and over the altar there is a large picture by Malosso,
representing the saint at the door of the Temple at Jerusalem,
and repulsed by a miraculous power. She is richly dressed, with a
broad-brimmed hat, and stands on the step, as one endeavouring to
enter, while several persons look on,—some amazed, others mocking.
2. Mary of Egypt doing penance in the desert is easily confounded with
the penitent Magdalene. Where there is no skull, no vase of ointment,
no crucifix near her, where the penitent is aged, or at least not young
and beautiful, with little or no drapery, and black or grey hair,
the picture may be presumed to represent Mary of Egypt, and not the
Magdalene, however like in situation and sentiment. There is a large
fine picture of this subject at Alton Towers.
3. The first meeting of Mary and the hermit Zosimus has been painted by
Ribera: in this picture her hair is grey and short, her skin dark and
sunburnt, and she is clothed in rags.
4. In another picture by the same painter she is passing over the
Jordan by the help of angels; she is seen floating in the air with her
hands clasped, and Zosimus is kneeling by. This subject might easily
be confounded with the Assumption of the Magdalene, but the sentiment
ought to distinguish them; for, instead of the ecstatic trance of the
Magdalene, we have merely a miraculous incident: the figure is but
little raised above the waters, and the hermit is kneeling on the
shore.[322]
5. St. Mary receives the last communion from the hands of Zosimus. I
have known this subject to be confounded with the last communion of the
Magdalene. The circumstances of the scene, as well as the character,
should be attended to. Mary of Egypt receives the sacrament in the
desert; a river is generally in the background: Zosimus is an aged
monk. Where the Magdalene receives the sacrament from the hands of
Maximin, the scene is a portico or chapel with rich architecture, and
Maximin wears the habit of a bishop.
6. The death of Mary of Egypt. Zosimus is kneeling beside her, and the
lion is licking her feet or digging her grave. The presence of the lion
distinguishes this subject from the death of Mary Magdalene.
[Illustration: 97 The Death of Mary of Egypt]
St. Mary of Egypt was early a popular saint in France, and particularly
venerated by the Parisians, till eclipsed by the increasing celebrity
of the Magdalene. She was styled, familiarly, La Gipesienne (the
Gipsy), softened by time into La Jussienne. The street in which stood
a convent of reformed women, dedicated to her, is still _la Rue
Jussienne_.
We find her whole story in one of the richly painted windows of the
cathedral of Chartres; and again in the ‘Vitraux de Bourges,’ where the
inscription underneath is written ‘Segiptiaca.’
Among the best modern frescoes which I saw at Paris, was the decoration
of a chapel in the church of St. Merry, dedicated to Ste. Marie
l’Égyptienne: the religious sentiment and manner of middle-age Art are
as usual imitated, but with a certain unexpected originality in the
conception of some of the subjects which pleased me. 1. On the wall,
to the right, she stands leaning on the pedestal of the statue of the
Madonna in a meditative attitude, and having the dress and the dark
complexion of an Egyptian dancing-girl; a crowd of people are seen
behind entering the gates of the Temple, at which she alone has been
repulsed. 2. She receives the communion from the hand of Zosimus, and
is buried by a lion.
On the left-hand wall. 3. Her apotheosis. She is borne aloft by many
angels, two of whom swing censers, and below is seen the empty grave
watched by a lion. 4. Underneath is a group of hermits, to whom the
aged Zosimus is relating the story of the penitence and death of St.
Mary of Egypt.
I do not in general accept modern representations as authorities, nor
quote them as examples; but this resuscitation of Mary of Egypt in a
city where she was so long a favourite saint, appears to me a curious
fact. Her real existence is doubted even by the writers of that Church
which, for fourteen centuries, has celebrated her conversion and
glorified her name. Yet the poetical, the moral significance of her
story remains; and, as I have reason to know, can still impress the
fancy, and, through the fancy, waken the conscience and touch the heart.
There were several other legends current in the early ages of
Christianity, promulgated, it should seem, with the distinct purpose of
calling the frail and shining woman to repentance. If these were not
pure inventions, if the names of these beatified penitents retained in
the offices of the Church must be taken as evidence that they _did_
exist, it is not less certain that the prototype in all these cases
was the reclaimed woman of the Scriptures, and that it was the pitying
charity of Christ which first taught men and angels to rejoice over the
sinner that repenteth.
* * * * *
The legend of MARY, the niece of the hermit Abraham[323] must not be
confounded with that of Mary of Egypt. The scene of this story is
placed in the deserts of Syria. The anchoret Abraham had a brother,
who lived in the world and possessed great riches, and when he died,
leaving an only daughter, she was brought to her uncle Abraham,
apparently because of his great reputation for holiness, to be brought
up as he should think fit. The ideas of this holy man, with regard
to education, seem to have been those entertained by many wise and
religious people since his time; but there was this difference, that
he did not show her the steep and thorny way to heaven, and choose for
himself ‘the primrose path of dalliance.’ Instead of applying to his
charge a code of morality as distinct as possible from his own, he,
more just, only brought up his niece in the same ascetic principles
which he deemed necessary for the salvation of all men.
Mary, therefore, being brought to her uncle when she was only seven
years old, he built a cell close to his own, in which he shut her
up; and, through a little window, which opened between their cells,
he taught her to say her prayers, to recite the Psalter, to sing
hymns, and dedicated her to a life of holiness and solitude, praying
continually that she might be delivered from the snares of the
arch-enemy, and keeping her far, as he thought, from all possibility of
temptation; while he daily instructed her to despise and hate all the
pleasures and vanities of the world.
Thus Mary grew up in her cell till she was twenty years old: then it
happened that a certain youth, who had turned hermit and dwelt in that
desert, came to visit Abraham to receive his instructions; and he
beheld through the window the face of the maiden as she prayed in her
cell, and heard her voice as she sang the morning and the evening hymn;
and he was inflamed with desire of her beauty, till his whole heart
became as a furnace for the love of her; and forgetting his religious
vocation, and moved thereto by the devil, he tempted Mary, and she
fell. When she came to herself, her heart was troubled; she beat her
breast and wept bitterly, thinking of what she had been, what she had
now become; and she despaired, and said in her heart, ‘For me there is
no hope, no return; shame is my portion evermore!’ So she fled, not
daring to meet the face of her uncle, and went to a distant place, and
lived a life of sin and shame for two years.
Now, on the same night that she fled from her cell, Abraham had a
dream; and he saw in his dream a monstrous dragon, who came to his
cell, and finding there a beautiful white dove, devoured it, and
returned to his den. When the hermit awoke from his dream he was
perplexed, and knew not what it might portend; but again he dreamt, and
he saw the same dragon, and he put his foot on its head, and crushed
it, and took from its maw the beautiful dove, and put it in his bosom,
and it came to life again, and spread its wings and flew towards heaven.
Then the old man knew that this must relate to his niece Mary; so
he took up his staff, and went forth through the world seeking her
everywhere. At length he found her, and seeing her overpowered with
shame and despair, he exhorted her to take courage, and comforted her,
and promised to take her sin and her penance on himself. She wept and
embraced his knees, and said, ‘O my father! if thou thinkest there is
hope for me, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest, and kiss
thy footsteps which lead me out of this gulf of sin and death!’ So he
prayed with her, and reminded her that God did not desire the death of
a sinner, but rather that he should turn from his wickedness and live;
and she was comforted. And the next morning Abraham rose up and took
his niece by the hand, leaving behind them her gay attire and jewels
and ill-gotten wealth. And they returned together to the cell in the
wilderness.
From this time did Mary lead a life of penitence and of great humility,
ministering to her aged uncle, who died glorifying God: after his
death, she lived on many years, praising God, and doing good in
humbleness and singleness of heart, and having favour with the people;
so that from all the country round they brought the sick, and those who
were possessed, and she healed them,—such virtue was in her prayers,
although she had been a sinner! Nay, it is written, that even the touch
of her garment restored health to the afflicted. At length she died,
and the angels carried her spirit out of the shadow and the cloud of
sin, into the glory and the joy of heaven.
Although the legend of Mary the Penitent is accepted by the Church,
which celebrates her conversion on the 29th of October, effigies of
her must be rare; I have never met with any devotional representation
of her. A print attributed to Albert Dürer represents the hermit
Abraham bringing back his penitent niece to his cell.[324]
In the Louvre are two large landscapes by Philippe de Champagne, which
in poetry and grandeur of conception come near to those of Niccolò
Poussin; both represent scenes from the life of Mary the Penitent. In
the first, amid a wild and rocky landscape, is the cell of Abraham, and
Mary, sitting within it, is visited by the young hermit who tempted
her to sin: in the second, we have the same wilderness, under another
aspect; Mary, in a rude secluded hut, embowered in trees, is visited
by pilgrims and votaries, who bring to her on their shoulders and on
litters, the sick and the afflicted, to be healed by her prayers. The
daughter of Champagne, whom he tenderly loved, was a nun at Port-Royal,
and I think it probable that these pictures (like others of his works)
were painted for that celebrated convent.
* * * * *
St. Thais, a renowned Greek saint, is another of these ‘_bienheureuses
pécheresses_,’ not the same who sat at Alexander’s feast, and fired
Persepolis, but a firebrand in her own way. St. Pelagia, called
_Pelagia Meretrix_ and _Pelagia Mima_ (for she was also an actress), is
another. These I pass over without further notice, because I have never
seen nor read of any representation of them in Western Art.
St. Afra, who sealed her conversion with her blood, will be found among
the Martyrs.
Poets have sung, and moralists and sages have taught, that for the
frail woman there was nothing left but to die; or if more remained
for her to suffer, there was at least nothing left for her to be or
do: no choice between sackcloth and ashes and the livery of sin. The
beatified penitents of the early Christian Church spoke another lesson;
spoke divinely of hope for the fallen, hope without self-abasement or
defiance. We, in these days, acknowledge no such saints: we have even
done our best to dethrone Mary Magdalene; but we have martyrs,—‘by the
pang without the palm,’—and _one_ at least among these who has not
died without lifting up a voice of eloquent and solemn warning; who
has borne her palm on earth, and whose starry crown may be seen on high
even now, amid the constellations of Genius.
[Illustration]
LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET