In Van Dyck's picture we see nothing of the surroundings of the

Crucifixion--the Roman soldiers, the curious crowd, the sorrowing

friends, or the crucified thieves. Only the solitary figure of Jesus,

nailed to the cross, is lifted against the strange dark sky. For three

hours, as we read, there was darkness over all the land, followed

immediately, after the death of Jesus, by a great earthquake. This is

the moment when the storm-clouds are gathering over the face of the

sun, causing its light to gleam luridly through the thick covering.

The cross is rudely built of two beams in the form which is called a

Latin cross. A fluttering scroll at the top of the upright beam

carries the accusation "The King of the Jews."

The garments of Jesus had been stripped from his body and divided

among four soldiers. He now hangs naked upon the cross save a small

strip of cloth knotted about his loins, the loose ends hanging at one

side. The body is somewhat slender and delicately modelled, but firm

and supple as of one in the fulness of manhood. The hair falls in

dishevelled locks about the face, and a mysterious light shines above

the head.

As we look at the picture, each one must decide for himself what

moment in the great drama is illustrated. From the expression of

suffering on the countenance we judge that the end is approaching.

From the lifted face and open mouth we see that the sufferer communes

with his Father.

The Crucifixion is the saddest subject a painter could choose, yet

notwithstanding this, it has been one of the most important subjects

in Christian art. Van Dyck painted it many times, and expressed, as we

see here, a deep sense of the tragic nature of the scene. Yet he

always avoided those harrowing details which make some of the pictures

of the older masters too painful to contemplate. For this reason his

crucified Christ has been chosen as the model for the Crucifixion

scene in the Passion Play at Ober-Ammergau.

We may see how wide was the range of our artist's gifts, which

extended from such joyous pictures as the Rest in Egypt to a theme so

solemn as the Crucifixion.

XII

JAMES STUART, DUKE OF LENNOX AND AFTERWARDS OF RICHMOND

James Stuart, Duke of Lennox, was one of the most prominent personages

at the English court. His uncle was a cousin and trusted friend of

King James I., and the relations between the nephew and Charles I.

were even closer. Immediately upon taking a degree at Cambridge, the

young nobleman entered the royal service as Gentleman of the King's

Bedchamber. He was just thirteen years of age, and a born courtier.

"His courtesie was his nature, not his craft," quaintly says one

historian. While still in his minority, he visited France, Italy, and

Spain. When Van Dyck came to England, he became at once one of the

painter's most frequent sitters.

Our illustration is one of the first of the series of portraits of the

Duke of Lennox, and shows him at the age of twenty. The young man

stands with his hand on the head of a favorite greyhound, and turns

his pleasant face to ours with a smile. He wears the habit of the

Order of the Garter. This "most noble and illustrious Order" was

instituted by King Edward III. under the patronage of St. George. It

consisted of the sovereign and twenty-five "companions" banded

together, like the knights of Arthur's Round Table, for the

advancement of ideal manliness. The ceremony of investiture was very

solemn, each part of the costume being placed in turn on the elect

knight, when he knelt to take the vows. We note in the picture the

same details which we saw in the portrait of Charles I., the mantle

with the great silver star, and the gold medal, or "George," on the

blue ribbon. One part of the costume not to be seen in the other

picture is the garter, worn on the left leg "between the knee and the

calf," as the old directions read.

The garter was, indeed, originally the most important emblem of the

entire garb. It symbolized to the wearers that "as by their Order,

they were join'd in a firm League of Amity and Concord, so by their

Garter, as by a fast Tye of Affection, they were obliged to love one

another." The garter was blue, fastened with a gold buckle, and on it

was inscribed the motto, "Honi soit qui mal y pense" [Evil to him who

evil thinks]. A miniature representation of the garter encircles the

cross in the centre of the star, and also forms a border of the

"George" medallion.

From the broad lace collar to the high-heeled shoes with their huge

rosettes, the young man of the picture represents the height of the

prevailing fashion. His hair is carefully curled in the manner of the

Cavaliers. He is in fact the impersonation of the court life of the

period. It is pleasant to fancy the graceful youth moving through the

stately figures of the court dances.

[Illustration: JAMES STUART, DUKE OF LENNOX AND RICHMOND

_Metropolitan Art Museum, New York_]

It was five years after this portrait was painted that the Duke of

Lennox married Mary, the daughter of the first Duke of Buckingham.

Then followed the troubles in Scotland caused by the king's persistent

attempt to force the liturgy of the Church of England upon the people.

Lennox now showed himself a stanch adherent of the Crown, and upheld

the royal cause in the face of the bitter opposition of the Scotch.

His enemies thought him very haughty and severe in his manner, but his

probity and sincerity seem not to have been questioned.

In 1641, he was created Duke of Richmond, and in the same year was

appointed to the high office of Lord Steward of the Household.

Throughout the civil war he served his royal master with untiring

faithfulness, devoting a large part of his fortune to the cause of the

Crown. When Charles was held a prisoner in Hampton Court, it was this

friend who cheered the period of his confinement. When at last, after

the execution of the king, the royal remains were buried at Windsor,

the Duke of Richmond was one of the four noblemen who sorrowfully bore

the pall to the grave. He died in the prime of manhood, in 1655.

A more loyal follower no king could have, yet, notwithstanding his

zeal, the Duke of Lennox and Richmond failed to exert any great

influence upon history, because he lacked the necessary judgment and

decision of character. His portrait certainly does not indicate any

special intellectual promise in the young man. Yet the face is so

refined, the expression so winning, that none can help feeling the

singular charm of the personality. Van Dyck understood well how to

impart an air of distinction to a figure, and when, as in this case,

he had a favorable subject, he was especially successful.

To lovers of dogs the greyhound is no unimportant part of our picture.

The painter has expressed with much insight the character of this

beautiful and high-bred creature. The muzzle is pressed affectionately

to the master's side, and the eyes are fixed upon the beloved face

with an expression of intense devotion. There is a tradition that this

animal once saved the duke's life by rousing him from sleep at the

approach of an assassin.

In the making up of the composition, the dog's figure describes a

diagonal line on the left, which balances a similar diagonal on the

other side made by the duke's placing his arm akimbo. Thus the general

diagram of a pyramid is suggested as the basis of the grouping.

AUTHORITIES.--Robert Vaughn: _The History of England under the House

of Stuarts_; L. von Ranke: _The History of England in the Seventeenth

Century_; Warwick's _Memoirs_; Doyle's _Official Baronage of

England_.

XIII

CHRIST AND THE PARALYTIC

It was a part of our Lord's ministry among men to restore to health

the body as well as the soul. He was often moved with compassion by

the disease and suffering which he saw as he went about Galilee or

passed through the streets of Jerusalem. St. John, the evangelist

(chapter v.), relates an incident which took place at a pool called

Bethesda near a sheep market in Jerusalem.

There were here five porches in which lay "a great multitude of

impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the

water." It seems that at certain intervals the waters of the pool were

troubled, as if moved by some unseen agency. It was believed that the

first person stepping in thereafter would be healed of any disease he

might have.

"And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight

years. When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long

time in that case, he saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole? The

impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is

troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another

steppeth down before me. Jesus saith unto him, Rise, take up thy bed,

and walk. And immediately the man was made whole, and took up his bed,

and walked."[20]

[Footnote 20: There was another case of Christ's healing a paralytic,

but as on that occasion the sick man's bed was let down through the

roof into a house, the incident does not fit the picture so well as

that of Bethesda.]

This is the incident illustrated by our picture. Jesus has already

brought the paralytic to his feet, and now sends him on his way. Two

other men complete the group, but take no part in the conversation.

One is a disciple, perhaps John, who accompanies the Master, the other

is a spectator peering curiously over the paralytic's shoulder.

The restored paralytic carries under one arm a rug, which has been

clumsily rolled into a bundle. This is the sort of "bed" used among

the poor of Eastern countries. He is but half clad in a garment which

slips from his shoulders, showing his emaciated form. The face is

sharpened by suffering; he is altogether a strange and repulsive

figure. Like the beggar who lay in St. Martin's path he represents a

degraded class of humanity.

He leans now towards his unknown friend in a pitiable effort to

express his gratitude. The eyes have a look of dumb devotion like

those of a faithful dog. He lays one hand humbly upon his breast.

Jesus turns to the poor creature with an expression of infinite

compassion. He reads the man's heart with his searching glance. Thanks

he does not need; his first care is to send the man forth to begin

life anew.

[Illustration: CHRIST AND THE PARALYTIC

_Buckingham Palace_]

The head of the Saviour is painted after the ideal portrait which has

been handed down from generation to generation since the early days of

Christianity. The oval face with classical features, the full beard,

the long hair parted in the middle, such are the familiar features

which we have all come to associate with the person of Jesus. Yet

notwithstanding this general similarity in the many pictures of

Christ, every great artist has brought out something different in the

face.

It was Titian's peculiar glory to show the intellectual side of our

Lord's character as no other Italian had done. Van Dyck, with

characteristic admiration for the great Venetian, followed his

example. If we compare our illustration with Titian's Christ of the

Tribute Money[21] we shall see how closely the former imitates the

latter. Yet, as no man of imagination can copy exactly another's work,

Van Dyck's ideal of Christ is less ascetic than Titian's and somewhat

more benign. In both pictures the pure countenance of the Saviour is

sharply contrasted with the coarse face beside him.

[Footnote 21: See Chapter VIII. of the volume on _Titian_ in the

Riverside Art Series.]

We are interested to read on in St. John's narrative the sequel of the

story illustrated in our picture. It happened to be the Sabbath day,

and, as the restored paralytic passed through the city, the Jews said

unto him: "It is not lawful for thee to carry thy bed."

"He answered them, He that made me whole, the same said unto me, Take

up thy bed, and walk. Then asked they him, What man is that which said

unto thee, Take up thy bed, and walk? And he that was healed wist not

who it was: for Jesus had conveyed himself away, a multitude being in

that place.

"Afterward Jesus findeth him in the temple and said unto him, Behold,

thou art made whole: sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee.

The man departed, and told the Jews that it was Jesus, which had made

him whole."

XIV

PHILIP, LORD WHARTON

Philip, Lord Wharton, was an English nobleman of nearly the same age

as the Duke of Lennox, and the two were painted by Van Dyck at about

the same time. In both young men are apparent the same signs of gentle

birth and breeding, a dignity of bearing, and a repose of manner

characteristic of their class. That they were quite different in

essential character, however, we shall presently see.

Lord Wharton was the fourth baron of his family and the second of the

name Philip. He succeeded to his title as he was entering his teens,

and at the age of nineteen he had become one of the most attractive

figures at the court of Charles I. In this year he married Elizabeth,

the daughter of Sir Rowland Wandesford. It was in honor of this

occasion that the portrait of our illustration was painted.

Of a lover so handsome and graceful, the promised bride may well have

been proud. His dress is rich and picturesque: the jacket is of violet

velvet, the mantle of yellow satin, and the costume is set off by

delicate laces at the throat and wrists. These were days when the men

vied with women in fondness for finery.

Lord Wharton was at this time on terms of friendly intimacy with the

king and queen. It was a flattering mark of royal favor when the king

presented the young courtier with two full-length portraits of himself

and of Queen Henrietta, painted by Van Dyck. Perhaps the artistic

tastes they had in common formed the bond of friendship between them.

Lord Wharton, it appears, admired Van Dyck's portrait work almost as

much as King Charles. On his second marriage, five years later, he

employed the artist to paint a number of family portraits. He prized

these so highly that he built a gallery specially for them in his new

house at Winchendon.

The time soon came when more strenuous questions occupied him. The

contest between the king and the Parliament brought every Englishman

to a parting of the ways. Lord Wharton was a Puritan, and took a

decided stand on the side of Parliament. His personal relations with

the king were outweighed by his sense of patriotic duty.

At the breaking out of the war he entered the Parliamentary army,

serving successively as colonel of a regiment of foot, and as a

captain of a troop of horse. He took part in the battle of Edgehill,

and was brought into considerable prominence at this time. In a famous

speech made soon afterwards, he charged the king's nephew, Prince

Rupert, with gross "inhumanity and barbarousness" during the course of

the battle. Evidently where his mind was made up, Lord Wharton was a

strong partisan.

[Illustration: PHILIP, LORD WHARTON

_Hermitage Gallery, St. Petersburg_]

Of this we should suspect nothing from our portrait. It is hard to

imagine that this beardless young courtier, so suave and amiable in

appearance, will ten years later be fighting sternly against his king.

Here his thoughts seem to be wholly romantic: his eyes have the dreamy

expression of an expectant lover. His is surely a knightly soul

unstained by worldliness. The face is of that perfect oval admired by

artists as the highest standard of beauty. Taste and refinement are

the most striking qualities one reads in it; the mouth is the most

individual feature, small and modelled in delicate curves. Yet with

all its sweetness, those firmly closed lips suggest tenacity of

opinion and strength of will.

As the event proved, Lord Wharton was a man of uncompromising

political opinions. He was at one time committed to the Tower on a

charge of contempt of the House. In his long and active life he saw

England pass through many changes. He was an old man when the last of

the Stuart kings (James II.) fled from England, leaving a vacant

throne. Macaulay tells us of the Whig nobleman's speech in the meeting

of the Lords which resulted in the invitation to William and Mary of

Orange to take the government. He knew how to be fair as well as

severe, and a still later speech is recorded when he opposed the

Abjuration Bill.[22] He died at the age of eighty-five in 1698.

[Footnote 22: This bill provided that no person should sit in either

house of Parliament or hold any office without making declaration that

he would stand by William and Mary against James and his adherents.]

There are other portraits by Van Dyck more vigorous than this, but

none perhaps more charming. As we have seen in the portrait of the

Duke of Lennox, the painter was nowhere more successful than in

portraying the young courtier. We recognize the pose, with one arm

akimbo, as a favorite device of Van Dyck. While in some cases it seems

artificial, here it appears to be an attitude which the young man

assumed of his own accord.

On his left arm he carries a tall shepherd's staff; it may be that he

has sometime played a pastoral part in some masque. His costume,

however, does not accord with such a part, and it is more likely that

the staff is held merely to give some use to the left hand. We note in

another illustration that the man called Richardot holds a book, with

his hand in a similar position.

The texture painting of Lord Wharton's costume is skilfully rendered,

and a rich satin hanging behind him throws a part of the figure into

relief. On the other side is a glimpse of landscape lighting the

composition pleasantly with a distant view.

Authorities.--Macaulay: _History of England_; Doyle's _Official

Baronage of England_.

XV

THE LAMENTATION OVER CHRIST

A great company of people had followed Jesus to his crucifixion,

including not only his enemies, but his friends. The beloved disciple

John was accompanied by Mary. "And many women were beholding afar off,

which followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering unto him; among which

was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the

mother of Zebedee's children.

"When the even was come there came a rich man of Arimathea named

Joseph, who also himself was Jesus' disciple. He went to Pilate and

begged the body of Jesus. Then Pilate commanded the body to be

delivered. And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a

clean linen cloth, and laid it in his own new tomb which he had hewn

out in the rock: and he rolled a great stone to the door of the

sepulchre and departed."[23]

[Footnote 23: St. Matthew, chapter XXVII., verses 55-60.]

During all this time two at least of the original company of women had

lingered near while the body of Jesus was taken from the cross and

made ready for burial. They were the mother Mary and Mary Magdalene.

Even after Joseph's task was done and he had gone his way, they

remained "sitting over against the sepulchre."

It is not unnatural to suppose that they may have had some share in

the preparation of the body. Nicodemus, as we learn elsewhere, had

brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, which it was the custom of the

Jews to use in burial.[24] Both men must have been glad of the presence

and help of the faithful women.

[Footnote 24: St. John, chapter XIX., verse 39.]

Poets and painters have dwelt much on these sad moments, supplying

from the imagination the details omitted in the narrative. The women

must at times have been unable to restrain their tears; natural grief

must have its way. Then might the men have left them awhile alone with

their dead, as they busied themselves with their task.

It is some such idea as this which inspired the painting of our

illustration. The mother Mary supports the head of her son upon her

bosom; Mary Magdalene stoops to kiss the lifeless hand; St. John

approaches at one side with a mantle.

The body of Christ, wrapped in a cloth, has been laid upon a rock in a

cavern. The agony of his cruel death is past, and the face is calm as

of one who sleeps. The figure is, as we have seen it on the cross,

robust and well knit. Only the nail prints in hands and feet show the

manner of his dying. On the ground beside him is a basin with a

sponge, surrounded by tokens of the crucifixion, the crown of thorns,

the nails, and the superscription.

[Illustration: THE LAMENTATION OVER CHRIST

_Antwerp Museum_]

We see in the Madonna the same stately and beautiful woman who carried

her babe on the journey to Egypt. Her veil is now drawn well over her

head, entirely concealing her hair. She has borne the cares of life

with courage, and the years have touched her face but lightly. Even in

the hour of anguish she lifts her eyes to heaven with resignation, yet

one hand is extended with a gesture which seems to implore mercy.

Mary Magdalene is a much younger woman. She has peculiar reason for

her devotion to Jesus, for he saved her from a strange fate.[25] Her

impulsive and loving nature is now overwhelmed with grief. Her rich

costume is in disorder, and her hair falls in loose locks over her

shoulders. Her lovely face is very sad. Half kneeling, she presses her

lips to the wound in the left hand. Her attitude and manner are full

of humility, as if she felt herself unworthy to approach too near.

[Footnote 25: St. Luke, chapter VIII., verse 2.]

St. John regards the group with gentle sympathy. He is spoken of as

"the disciple whom Jesus loved," so intimate was the relation between

them. To his care Jesus intrusted the Mother Mary, and he now remains

near as one of the few most deeply bereaved. He is very young, with a

sensitive face and delicately cut features.

The subject of the picture is one which Van Dyck treated in several

compositions. The Flemish title is "Nood Godes," the suffering of God.

The Italians call it the Pieta, which means, compassion. One of the

most celebrated works of art devoted to the theme is the marble group

in Rome by Michelangelo.[26] Van Dyck must have seen this work on his

visit to the Eternal City, and was no doubt inspired in some measure

by its grandeur. We notice that in his picture the Mother extends her

left hand in a gesture similar to that of the marble figure.

[Footnote 26: See Chapter VI. in the volume on _Michelangelo_ in the

Riverside Art Series.]

XVI

PORTRAIT OF VAN DYCK

The painter Van Dyck was the son of a rich merchant of Antwerp, and

lacked no opportunities for the training of his artistic gifts. He was

fortunate also in meeting ready appreciation wherever he went. In

Italy, in Flanders, and finally in England, his paintings were highly

valued. His life was passed amid luxurious surroundings, in the

society of noblemen and princes. His was a brilliant and successful

career.

Our portrait frontispiece was painted during his residence in England,

when he was about forty years of age. He is described as short in

stature, with a slender figure. His hands were long, with the straight

sensitive fingers of the artist. He had a fresh delicate face, with

well-cut features, and light chestnut-colored hair, which he wore

long, like the English Cavaliers. The upturned mustache and small

pointed beard were also fashionable among the English nobility, as we

infer from the portrait of Charles I.

The face has the characteristic qualities of the artistic nature, the

high forehead, the dreamy eyes, and the pensive expression. The head

is lifted a little, in an imaginative pose. We should know this man at

once for a poet or a painter.

It must be confessed that we do not find much strength of character in

the face. Van Dyck indeed lacked the nobler qualities of manliness,

and was decidedly worldly in his tastes. He lived in princely

magnificence in his house at Blackfriars, spending money lavishly. A

biographer tells how "he always went magnificently Drest, had a

numerous and gallant Equipage, and kept so noble a Table in his

Apartment that few Princes were more visited or better serv'd."

To maintain this expensive establishment the painter was obliged to

devote his mornings to hard work in his studio. The nights were spent

in banquets and revelry. Naturally his health gave way under the

strain of this double life. While he still cherished ambitious

projects for greater works of art, he sickened and died in London at

the age of forty-two.

Two years before this he had married an English lady, Mary Ruthven,

and they had one child, a daughter.

Our frontispiece is a detail of a double portrait representing, in

half-length figures, the painter and a patron, John Digby, Earl of

Bristol.

* * * * *

PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY OF PROPER NAMES AND FOREIGN WORDS

The Diacritical Marks given are those found in the latest edition of

Webster's International Dictionary.

EXPLANATION OF DIACRITICAL MARKS.

Van Dyck: A Collection of Fifteen Pictures and a Portrait of the Painter with Introduction and Interpretation · 第 3 / 4 段