good or for evil, it is irrevocable. It was not probable that so
artistic a nation as the French would allow such a building to remain in
an incomplete state; they would rather run the risk of perpetuating
failure than leave the work undone. We English are different. S. Paul's
is double the age of the Panthéon, and we are still squabbling over its
decoration; we hang up designs and drag them down again, we lay out
enormous sums in the embellishment of the altar, and then we spend ever
so much more in trying to circumvent our neighbours, and get rid of the
ornament. It is a fate not necessarily peculiar to our country or this
city, because at Brompton a magnificent church has been designed, built,
and decorated in a few years, a model of refinement, beauty, and
grandeur. But the embellishment of S. Paul's is attempted by spurts
only, and up to the present time has left much to be desired.[79] That
may perhaps be an advantage; if nothing is done, there can be nothing to
regret. But the French have acted otherwise, and the Panthéon
embellishment is almost an accomplished fact.
With one or two exceptions, the painting of the church has been confided
to artists with reputations, wearers of the palm-embroidered coats; the
procession of decorators being led by Baron Gros and Gérard, who covered
the dome with pictures in the false, pretentious style of the First
Empire, leaving it a glowing mass of bad taste, as a warning to their
successors. Baron Gros was a great painter, an early naturalist, as
witness his _Battlefield of Eylau_, in the Salle des Sept Cheminées of
the Louvre. There is an amount of realism in the painting of the dying
and the dead, of the snow and the "man of bronze," that is not surpassed
by the realists of the day. But when he set to work upon Saints and
Angels, he must fain idealise and sentimentalise; and so, instead of
having a S. Geneviève in modest dress as befits a village maiden, we see
a sprawling lady in flowing garments of silk and satin, receiving her
guests of kings and queens in a cloudy apartment of the seventh heaven.
The first, or one of the first walls attacked by the decorator was
Alexander Cabanel's. Here we have the _Great works of S. Louis_ treated
in the academic fashion. Learned in composition and refined in style,
with a good deal of historical truth in costume and character, it is
nevertheless crude and harsh in colour, unharmonious, stagey, and
completely undecorative. The best of the panels is _S. Louis learning to
read at his mother's knee_, which has a certain pathos in the fair
child's expression.
_The Coronation of Charlemagne by Leo III. in the old basilica of S.
Peter_, by Henri Lévy, looks as if it had lost its way, or had been
taken to the Panthéon until a suitable dwelling could be found
elsewhere. Like Cabanel's _S. Louis_, it is neither Classic, nor
Mediæval, nor Modern--simply weak and smooth, respectable and historic,
after the manner of the Delaroche school. It is a pity, for, in other
hands, these subjects would have been a treasure. Think of the charming
frescoes by Olivier-Merson in the gallery of the Cour de Cassation of
the Palais de Justice, how exquisite is the simplicity of the boy king,
and the grave beauty of his mother. The _Coronation of Charlemagne_ is
composed as an academician would be sure to conceive the subject. A
flight of steps, with the emperor sitting at the top; churchmen and
laymen adoring, and an Angel swooping down with a crown. At the bottom
of the steps, a warrior standing with sword and shield, and a sitting
monk instructing some children from an open book.
Completely opposed to these works are the panels of Puvis de Chavannes,
one of the first decorative artists of our time. His painting is vague,
and somewhat foggy; his figures are clumsy, thick of ankle, neck, and
wrist, but otherwise attenuated to the last degree; and were it not that
the far-off people are smaller than those near the spectator, no one
would know that they are on different planes, for of aërial perspective
there is none. Yet there is a certain purity of sentiment about this,
as in all M. de Chavannes' work, which is almost Archaic. The very
dulness of the surface and the opacity of the medium employed render
these pictures a suitable wall covering for Soufflot's grandiose
classicality. The treatment is dignified, poetic, refined, but at the
same time intensely modern and realistic--witness a hen and chickens
picking up some grain in the foreground, and the charming vistas of
landscape background. The colour is tame, and all the members of the
Geneviève family are remarkable for plainness, not to say ugliness of
face and clumsiness of figure; but the feeling which pervades the whole
work is that of a sort of Pagan Renaissance, suitable to Soufflot's
"_gâteau de Savoie_."
[Illustration: PUVIS DE CHAVANNES (FRAGMENT).]
The first of the series, properly entitled _La jeunesse et la vie
pastorale de Sainte-Geneviève_ represents the maiden praying, while a
woodcutter and his wife are looking on. The centre and principal
compartment is occupied with the discovery by S. Germain of her little
saintship, surrounded by her father and mother and a small and admiring
crowd. On the left, boatmen are contemplating the scene from the river
bank, while upon the right is an old man trying to bend his knee to
receive the good bishop's blessing. A youth, sick unto death, and a poor
little beggar are being led to the man of God, and two women hurry up
from milking to see what is going on. The Seine flows through the
pastures of Nanterre, and Mont Valérien smiles down upon the company,
not having yet learned the art of war. This is all delightfully pastoral
and _naïve_. The little maid's face, as she looks up at the good
bishop, is sweetness itself; the parents bend their heads, and a
neighbour holds up her wee swaddled babe; but the _ensemble_ is marred
by the parrot-like profile of S. Germain and the general ugliness of the
company. Ugliness is a veritable passion with Puvis de Chavannes, a
gospel which he never loses faith in, a partner allied to eccentricity
in all his works.
In another panel we see Faith, Hope, and Charity watching over the
child's cradle, by which is a lamb, the emblem of innocence, purity, and
the pastoral life. Above is a frieze of saints, illustrating the
national religious history of France; SS. Paterne of Vannes, Clément of
Metz, Firmin of Amiens, Lucien of Beauvais, Lucain of Beauce, Martail of
Limoges, Solange of Berry, Madeleine and Marthe of Provence, Colombe of
Sens, Crépin and Crépinien of Soissons, Saturnin of Toulouse, Julien of
Brioude, Austremoine of Clermont, Trophime of Arles, and Paul of
Narbonne.
The picture by Th. Maillot is equally wanting in aërial perspective, but
instead of an obscuring fog overwhelming the good citizens of Paris who
are pouring down the "mountain" with S. Geneviève's _châsse_, a glaring
sun cuts out the figures from the background. The scene represents a
procession through what is now the market of the Place Maubert. It was
the 12th of January, 1496; so says a manuscript in the Bibliothèque
Nationale. Rain had been pouring down incessantly for an unnatural
period, although there was then no Eiffel tower upon which to lay the
blame. What was to be done? Clearly an appeal must be made to the patron
Saint, and her intercession supplicated to stay the flood. And so the
bishop, the abbot, and the canons regular and secular, trudged
barefooted down the _montagne_ bearing the _châsse_ containing the
relics of the maid of Nanterre. An account of the event is given in a
letter from Erasmus to his friend Nicholas Werner. The sage was ill of a
fever at the time, but that did not prevent him from taking part in the
procession, and we easily recognise his familiar physiognomy in the
foreground of M. Maillot's work. "Il y a trois mois qu'il pleut ici,
sans cesse. La Seine étant sortie de son lit, a inondé la campagne et la
ville. La châsse de Sainte Geneviève a été descendue et portée en
procession à Notre-Dame. L'évêque, accompagné de son clergé et du
peuple, est venu au-devant. Dans cette auguste cérémonie, les chanoines
réguliers, précédés de leur abbé marchant nu-pieds, conduisaient les
reliques et quatre porteurs en chemise étaient chargés de ce précieux
fardeau. Depuis ce temps le ciel est si serein qu'il ne peut l'être
davantage."
The bishop is represented with a gilt mitre, the abbot wears a white
one. Behind them are the provosts, the military, the magistrates, the
canons, and the people, the procession terminating with the king's
drummers and trumpeters. The crowd of people seem to be walking, or
rather tripping down a very perpendicular street, to cross a zigzag
wooden bridge with no side rails. The horizon is close to the top of the
frame, so that the _châsse_ appears to be falling off the shoulders of
the men who are carrying it, and the people seem to be stepping down a
steep incline. The colour is bright, and the costumes are picturesque,
the whole picture having the effect of an early Flemish work, or of a
page torn out of an old manuscript; so early is it in style that it is
as incongruous in its place as would be a van Eyck, or a van der Weyden.
Imagine Raffaello and Michael Angelo decorating S. Peter's after the
manner of Giotto, Botticelli, or Ghirlandajo, and you have no greater
incongruity than Maillot's fresco in S. Geneviève. Placed in S. Germain
l'Auxerrois, or Notre-Dame, the picture would be in keeping with the
architecture; in the Panthéon one feels that the decoration preceded the
building.
Totally different in style, but equally out of keeping with the
building, are the noble pictures of J. P. Laurens, _The last moments and
the funeral of the Saint_. The artist has endeavoured to depict the
semi-barbarous Gallo-Roman period. S. Geneviève, old and dying, is
surrounded by women who are bringing their children to receive her last
blessing. Rich and poor, nobles and serfs, old men and children, matrons
and young girls, priests and soldiers--all are tearful at their
approaching loss. Splendidly drawn and full of vigour and dramatic power
(which are the characteristics of all M. Laurens' works) the pictures
are somewhat black in colour; and, by reason of their very strength,
they look completely out of harmony with the cold, grey purity of this
Classic temple. M. J. P. Laurens is a grand artist, a lover of dramatic
effect and movement, but in the _Death of S. Geneviève_ he is subdued
and reposeful. The grouping of the figures round the bed of the Saint,
the wistful gaze of the children, and the prayerful expression of the
mothers, are all most truthfully rendered; but might not the Saint have
had a little more beauty; might she not have been a little idealised?
M. Bonnat's _Martyrdom of S. Denis_ is well known. The Saint, just
decapitated, clutches at his head; upon the block blazes a nimbus of the
sun tribe; above is an Angel, hurrying down with a palm and crown;
general consternation is depicted upon the faces of the assistants, as
might be expected. It is a masculine work, full of power, but over
dramatic and heavy in colour.
Of J. E. Delaunay's work we can form no idea yet awhile; he began it,
but death cut him off too soon, and another must finish it. One of
France's greatest artists, the painter of the _Peste à Rom_ in the
Louvre, is not likely to have failed in his designs for the Panthéon.
Baudry was also commissioned, but he, too, went all too soon, or we
might have had some panels which would have been fit _pendants_ to those
of Puvis de Chavannes.
The _Return of Clovis from Tolbiac_, by M. Joseph Blanc, is also
academic and correct; superb in drawing, and sober of colour, its chief
interest is in the fact that it contains contemporary portraits--Gambetta,
Arago, Lockroy; and Coquelin figuring as a monk.
Jeanne d'Arc is no more fortunate here than elsewhere; it seems as if
she were an impossibility in art. When one contemplates the number of
painters, sculptors, poets, and musicians who have essayed her history
and sung her praises, one is appalled by the results. One of the most
sublime pages of history; the finest character among heroines; the
grandest of women, of patriots, and of dreamers; the most modest, the
most saint-like, the most unselfish of warriors, _la Pucelle_ seems to
oppress everyone who tries to depict any scene from her life. Perhaps
the greatest success of modern times is Frémiet's fine Renaissance
statue in the Place des Pyramids. Very beautiful also is
Bastien-Lepage's _Jeanne_ as a whole; but the figure does not possess
the nobleness which one attaches to the militant maiden. Certainly M.
Lenepveu's compositions form no exception to the general failure of
Jeannes d'Arc. The maid is tied to the stake surrounded by a goodly
assemblage of faggots; one monk reads, another flings a cross into her
hands--as if the poor maid had objected to the cross! Soldiers are all
about, and old Rouen at the back is picturesque with its gabled houses,
and the cathedral in the distance. A man is just seizing a torch, and
you know the end is near; but you are not impressed; you either do not
care, or you do not realise the horror. But it is popular with the
populace, and so serves one purpose for which it was painted--that of
pointing a moral of patriotism and unselfish devotion almost unique but
for the recent example of Garibaldi.
Last, but not least, charming in design, refined, and quite in harmony
with the style of the building, are the mosaics of A. E. Hébert, which
are among the best works of the artist, and quite exempt from the
affectation and sentimentality which, somewhat too often, mar his
pictures. These compositions occupy the apse. In the centre _Le Christ
montre à l'ange de la France les grandes destinées du peuple dont il lui
confia la garde_. Below this are the words: _Christus vincit, Christus
regnat, Christus imperat._ At the side of the Saviour is the Blessed
Virgin interceding for France; near her, the patroness, clad as a
shepherdess, with a lamb under her arm, is praying for the city under
the symbol of a ship. Above are the following subjects, _The baptism of
Clovis by S. Remi in the presence of S. Clotilde_; _S. Louis seated
between Justice and Power_; _Jeanne d'Arc listening to the voices_.
[Illustration: LA JEUNESSE DE SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE, PUVIS DE CHAVANNES.]
The ornamental framing of the several pictures has been executed by a
master of decorative art, the late V. Galland. The borders are formed of
garlands of flowers in a low scale of colour, which are divided at
regular intervals by tablets bearing inscriptions and monograms. On the
whole, the decoration of the Panthéon gives little encouragement to
other nations who are desirous of covering large surfaces of wall in
their public buildings. The art seems to be lost; for if the greatest of
the French painters have, from one reason and another, failed to produce
an harmonious scheme of decoration, who is likely to succeed? At best,
the church presents a sort of _pot-pourri_. No schools are so dramatic
as the French; and yet these wall paintings fail to impress us in the
same way as do those, for example, of the Riccardi Palace, by Benozzo
Gozzoli. It is probably the religious spirit which is wanting. We can
draw better and paint better than the early Italian or Flemish
artists--but the sentiment is lacking; and thus, whether we turn to
Paris or München, to Berlin or London, we find the decoration of large
buildings, and particularly of churches, more or less a failure. Perhaps
the worst examples are the terribly dismal, cold, maudlin Nibelung
series at München, compared to which the Panthéon is Raffaelesque. Had
Puvis de Chavannes been allowed to do the whole church, the result would
have been certainly more harmonious, and possibly more edifying; but
though gaining in harmony, the frescoes might possibly have lost in
variety. Sometimes too much of a good thing results in a wearisome
monotony.
Sculpture will also be represented later on by a group of the
Revolution, by Falguière; and doubtless we shall have monuments to
Victor Hugo, Rénan, and other _grands hommes_, from their grateful
country. Let us hope the decoration may always be as Catholic as
heretofore; for S. Louis, Clovis, Geneviève and Jeanne d'Arc form as
much a part of the history of France as do Voltaire, Mirabeau, Danton,
and Dumouriez. We may not care to sing the "Marseillaise" with Camille
Desmoulins, and we may wish we could forget the fourteenth Louis and all
the Napoléons; but it is as foolish to deny their influence upon the
nation as to sponge out the fact recorded on a door-head that
Louis-Napoleon joined the Louvre and the Tuileries.
SAINT-GERMAIN L'AUXERROIS.
Between the years 420 and 430, the ancient British church became
infected with the heresy of Pelagianism, "which budded forth afresh into
this island," as Camden says; and the orthodox clergy, being unable to
stay its progress, sent to Gaul desiring assistance. Thereupon a synod
of the Gallican church was held, and it was determined to send
Germanus, bishop of Auxerre, and Lupus, bishop of Troyes, to confute
the heretics. The date assigned to this event by Prosper, a contemporary
writer (and also Camden), is 429; but he makes no allusion to Lupus,
whose participation in the mission rests upon the evidence of
Constantius of Lyons, the biographer of S. Germanus. This Lupus was a
brother of Vincent of Lerins, a famous teacher, and the author of _A
Defence of the Catholic Faith_, a book which was of much use to Cranmer
and Ridley at the time of the Reformation. The meeting appointed for the
public disputation with the Pelagians is supposed to have taken place at
Verulam, now S. Albans, Hertfordshire, in 429; and according to the
Venerable Bede's account, the heretics came to the council in great
pomp, and advocated their cause with much "inflated rhetoric." But to no
end. Germanus and Lupus silenced them with overwhelming arguments, and
they were utterly discomfited. Bede's account is so quaint, and shows so
great a difference between a 5th and a 19th century council that it is
worth while to quote it in full: "An immense multitude was there
assembled with their wives and children. The people stood round as
spectators and judges; but the parties present differed much in
appearance. On the one side was divine faith, on the other human
presumption; on the one side piety, on the other pride; on the one side
Pelagius, on the other Christ. The most holy priests Germanus and Lupus
permitted their adversaries to speak first, who long took up the time
and filled the ears with empty words. Then the venerable prelates poured
forth the torrent of their apostolical and evangelical eloquence. Their
discourse was interspersed with scriptural sentences, and they supported
their most weighty assertions by reading the written testimonies of
famous writers. Vanity was convinced, and perfidiousness confuted; so
that at every objection made against them, not being able to reply, they
confessed their errors. The people, who were judges, could scarce
refrain from violence, but signified their judgment by their
acclamations."
It is worth noting that at this time the _people were the judges in
matters theological_. Rather a different state of things from that which
now prevails at Rome and other places; but perhaps a return to primitive
custom might not tend to increase peace, or help us out of our
theological troubles.
[Illustration: SAINT-GERMAIN AND THE MAIRIE.]
When the meeting of the synod was over, Germanus and his companion
seemed to have helped the Britons in a war against a wandering
contingent of Pagan Saxons and Picts, and by a simple stratagem, worthy
of a better cause, routed the enemy. Germanus assembled the British
troops in a hollow surrounded by hills, and enjoined his followers to
shout "Alleluia" three times. This they did, and the echo taking up the
sound, produced such an effect upon the enemy that they took flight for
fear of the multitude which they thought had come out against them. The
battle took place, as Constantius relates, "when the sacred days of Lent
were at hand, which the presence of the divines rendered more solemn,
insomuch that those instructed by their daily preaching flocked eagerly
to the grace of baptism. For the great multitude of the army was
desirous of the water of the laver of salvation. A church formed of
interwoven branches of trees is prepared against the day of the
resurrection of our Lord, and though the expedition was encamped in the
field, is fitted up like that of a city. The army wet with baptism
advances, the people are fervent in faith, and neglecting the protection
of arms, they await the assistance of the Deity. In the meantime, this
plan of proceeding, or state of the camp, is reported to the enemy, who,
anticipating a victory over an unarmed multitude, hastened with
alacrity. But their approach is discovered by the scouts; and when,
after concluding the solemnities of Easter, the greater part of the
army, fresh from their baptism, were preparing to take up arms and give
battle, Germanus offers himself as the leader of the war." Such is
Constantius' account of the opening of the battle, which may be
completed with Fuller's: "God sent a hollowness into the hearts of the
Pagans; so that their apprehensions added to their ears, and cowardice
often resounded the same shout in their breasts, till beaten with the
reverberation thereof, without striking a blow, they confusedly ran
away; and many were drowned for speed in the river Alen, lately the
Christians' font, now the Pagans' grave. Thus a bloodless victory was
gotten, without sword drawn, consisting of no fight, but a fright and a
flight; and that 'Alleluia,' the song of the saints after conquest
achieved, was here the forerunner and procurer of victory; so good a
_grace_ it is to be said both before and after a battle."
Although this "Alleluiatic victory," as we have seen, is related by Bede
(who copied it from Constantius) and Fuller, it does not appear that the
Welsh MSS. take any notice of it, and its truth is doubted by Dr.
Whitaker in his _Ancient Cathedral of Cornwall_; but, says Mr. Yeowell,
"that a battle was fought at Maesgarmon, in the parish of Mold,
Flintshire, under circumstances which were afterwards improved into a
miracle, is not improbable; and there are names of places in that
neighbourhood which show that the district has, for some reason or
other, been tenacious of the memory of S. Germain."[80] Pelagius himself
was a Welshman given to travel--he visited Italy, Africa, and even
Palestine; and it was at Rome that the evil communications of one
Rufinus, a man deeply imbued with the principles of Origen, corrupted
his good faith in regard to the doctrine of original sin. But the
heresy appears to have been introduced into Britain by Agricola, a
Gallic bishop, and Celestius.
After this victory the good bishop returned to his own country; but in
447, the Pelagians again becoming aggressive, he took a second journey
to Britain, and this time not only baffled the heretics, but banished
them. "News is brought out of Britain," says Constantius, "that the
Pelagians' perverseness is again diffused by a few preachers. The
supplications of all are once more conveyed to this most blessed man
that he would come and preserve the cause of God, which he had formerly
won. With this petition he hastily complies, being delighted with the
labour, and willingly spending himself for Christ." This time Germanus
was attended by one of Lupus' scholars, "a man of all sanctity, who,
being then consecrated bishop of Trèves, was preaching the word of life
to the inhabitants of Germania Prima." On their arrival, they were again
met by a great multitude, whom they blessed; and then preaching the word
of God, discomfited the heretics and banished them from the island.
Germanus seems to have reformed the British Church, and modelled it upon
the Gallican; for it was about his time, and no doubt through his
influence, that parochial churches were founded in country places; the
rural populations having previously depended upon missionaries from the
towns and monasteries for their spiritual teaching. But in 442, the
council of Vaison, in Gaul, decreed that presbyters should be attached
to country parishes as well as to the city churches.