THE CHRIST-CHILD.
Among the innumerable pictures in which the world's great religious
painters have represented the scenes of the earthly life of our Lord, it
is amazing to note the large proportion of subjects relating to his
infancy and childhood. What else can this mean than that the hearts of
worshippers ever yearn towards that which they can understand and love,
and that thus, of all the varied aspects of Christ's character, it
appeals to us most forcibly that He was once a babe in the Bethlehem
manger.
To find the earliest delineations of the Christ-child we must go to
the Catacombs of Rome, and on the walls of their strange subterranean
chapels retrace the fading features of the Divine Babe as painted there
centuries ago to cheer the hearts of Christians. Two of these primitive
frescos are in the Greek chapel of the Catacomb of S. Praxedes,[19]
where they are a constant object of interest to the art pilgrim.
Considered aesthetically, they have of course no intrinsic beauty; but
to the thoughtful mind they stand for the beginnings of a great art
movement which culminated in the canvases of Raphael and Titian.
From the frescos of the Catacombs the next step in the progress of
Christian art was to the mosaics ornamenting the basilicas; and here the
Christ-child again appears as a conspicuous figure. Some of the most
interesting of these mosaics[20] represent the Babe receiving the
gifts of the Magi,--as at Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome and at Saint
Apollinare in Ravenna. In others, as at Capua, the Child shares with the
enthroned Virgin the adoration of a surrounding group of saints. Still
another of peculiar interest is at Santa Maria in Trastevere (Rome),
where the Infant is suckled at his mother's breast.
When we enter that strange period of history known as the Dark Ages,
we find the art products few and uninteresting; but even then the
Christ-child is not forgotten, and again and again he appears sculptured
in marble over the portals of cathedrals, or painted in stiff Byzantine
style over their altars.
Thus it was that in the new birth of art in Italy, when Niccolo Pisano
in sculpture, and Cimabue in painting, awakened the sleeping world to a
love of beauty, the Madonna, with her heaven-born Babe, was the first
subject to arouse enthusiasm; and it was for a picture of this sort
that all Florence went mad with joy, as it was borne along The Street
of Rejoicing.
In early representations, both in mosaics and paintings, the Child is
dressed in a tunic, white, red, or blue, often very richly ornamented
with gold embroidery. This method obtained as late as the fourteenth
century, when Fra Angelico still painted the Babe in the elaborate royal
garments of a king. But art at last returned to nature, and from the
fifteenth century the Holy Child was painted partially and sometimes
wholly undraped, with beautiful rounded limbs and soft pink baby flesh.
It was then that Italy was transformed into a paradise of art, and all
the important cities were full of great painters whose hearts were aglow
with the sacred fire of genius. In the host of beautiful works which
were produced in the next three centuries, every type of treatment was
exemplified, varying from the most simple naturalism to the loftiest
idealism. The naive realism of Filippino Lippi's chubby baby, placidly
sucking his thumb as he looks out of the picture, is matched in the
frolicsome boys of Andrea del Sarto's many paintings, smiling
mischievously from the Madonna's arms. At the other extreme is the
strangely precocious looking child of Botticelli, raising his eyes
heavenward, with a mystic smile on his serious face.
And when it would seem that every conceivable type of infancy, and
every imaginable situation had already been realized on the canvas,
Raphael[21] arose to create an entirely new ideal. His life was so
short, his work so surpassingly brilliant, that it was as if a splendid
meteor suddenly flashed across the starry firmament of the Cinque-Cento.
Perugino, his master; Pinturicchio, his employer; Fra Bartolommeo, his
friend; Andrea del Sarto, "the faultless painter," all paled before his
rapidly increasing glory. When he laid down his brush at the age of
thirty-seven, he had finished a career which is one of the miracles of
history. His work is a complete epitome of religious art, including all
the great themes, and enveloping each with an atmosphere of pure
spirituality, indescribably elevating to mind and soul.
His conception of the Christ-child ranges from the sleeping Babe from
whose innocent face the Madonna of the Diadem softly lifts a veil, to
the grave boy whom the Chair Madonna clasps in her arms. Every shade of
playfulness, of affection, of dignity, and of contemplation, is mirrored
in the long series of pictures in which he embodied his ever-changing
ideal of the Divine Infant.
[Illustration: MADONNA DI CASA TEMPI.--RAPHAEL.]
The magnificent versatility of his genius is admirably illustrated by
the contrast between two of his finest works,--the Madonna of the
Casa Tempi and the Madonna di San Sisto, standing the one for the human
aspect and the other for the divine, in the incarnation of the Son of
God. The first shows an ideal mother fondly pressing her darling's cheek
against her own; the second is a vision of ideal womanhood hastening
down the centuries to present the Word to the waiting world.
The Christ-child of the Tempi painting is a dimpled baby shyly nestling
against his mother's breast; the Sistine Child is a royal messenger
lightly enthroned upon the Madonna's arm. In one conception, Mother and
Son are absorbed entirely in each other; in the other, they think only
of their mission to humanity, their wide eyes searching the future with
far-seeing gaze, and their thoughts intent upon the coming of the
heavenly kingdom.
We can appreciate the Tempi Madonna at the first glance; the meaning of
the Sistine Madonna we can never fully reach, though to contemplate it
day by day is to feel our thoughts become purer and our aspirations
nobler.
A feature of the child-life of Jesus upon which Raphael loved to dwell
is his companionship with his cousin John, a boy of nearly the same age,
whose destiny was indissolubly linked with the Christ. Following the
Gospel description of the Baptist when he came forth from the desert
"clothed with camel's hair and with a girdle of skin about his loins,"
the artist has represented the child John as a dark, faun-like boy, with
a little skin garment girt about him,--a picturesque figure to contrast
with the fair beauty of the Christ-child.
The two boys are most charming, when, as in the Madonna of the Pearl,
the little John seeks with childish eagerness to please his cousin.
Here he is running gleefully to Jesus, with his skin garment full of
newly gathered fruit. The Christ-child, seated on his grandmother's
knee, beside his mother, stretches out his hands for the gift, his face
shining with simple, child-like pleasure. At another time Saint John
brings a goldfinch to the Virgin's knee, and the two children lean
lovingly against her, Jesus turning his earnest eyes towards the bird,
which he thoughtfully strokes. A very pretty incident is embodied in the
Aldobrandini Madonna, where the Christ-child reaches from his mother's
arms to smilingly bestow a flower upon Saint John.
Other pictures introduce, more or less definitely, an element of
devotion on the part of the infant Baptist, as in the Madonna of the
Meadow, where he kneels to receive the cross from the hands of the
Christ-child. The devotional relation is still more marked in the Belle
Jardiniere of the Louvre. In the Holy Family of Casa Canigiani, Jesus is
giving Saint John a banner with the words _Ecce Agnus Dei_.
The two boys, as the central figures of the Holy Family, have engaged
the brush of nearly every great religious painter, some producing
familiar and domestic scenes, others emphasizing the symbolic and
religious significance of the theme. Andrea del Sarto treated the
subject many times, and usually portrayed the children in a natural and
playful intimacy. Pinturicchio painted them running across a flowery
meadow to get water from a fountain. Guilio Romano has given us the
decidedly domestic scene of Jesus in the bath, with Saint John merrily
pouring water upon him. Sometimes, as in a lovely work by Angiolo
Bronzino, Saint John is affectionately kissing the sleeping Babe.
It was a beautiful thought on the part of some few artists,--notably
Palma Vecchio, Luini, and Murillo,--to introduce a lamb as a playmate
for the children, the suggestion having its origin in the Baptist's
description of Jesus as the "Lamb of God."
In Botticelli's Holy Family, Saint John stands by with clasped hands,
adoring the Infant. Perugino places him kneeling at a little distance in
the rear,--a perfect embodiment of childish devotion. In a painting by
Titian, also, he kneels apart, leaning on his cross, and in one by
Guido, he humbly kisses the Christ-child's foot.
In a lovely picture by Murillo, called the "Children of the Shell," he
kneels to drink from a cup which the little Jesus holds to his lips.
Here the contrast between the two is exquisitely rendered, both from
the artistic and the religious point of view, the Christ-child bearing
the unmistakable stamp of superiority, in spite of his childish figure,
while the infant John is a charming impersonation of reverent and loving
humility.
The religious spirit of the old masters has not been successfully
imitated by any modern artist who has attempted to delineate the Infant
Jesus and Saint John, nor is this to be expected. There are many
pleasing works of art, however, which, though differing widely from
early Italian standards, have an attractiveness of their own.
Such, for instance, is Boucher's painting, thoroughly characteristic of
the artist, and, when considered in itself, a very pretty thing. The two
plump babies are bewitching little figures, irresistibly lovable in
their dimpled beauty. Sweet cherub faces peep from the surrounding
clouds, regarding the holy children with wondering awe.
[Illustration: INFANT CHRIST AND SAINT JOHN.--BOUCHER.]
The figure of the Christ-child alone does not belong to the early
Renaissance, but by the seventeenth century, the subject had found favor
with Guido and Franceschini in Italy, and with Murillo and Zurbaran in
Spain. With all these artists it was a favorite custom to depict the
child Jesus asleep on the cross. Murillo's Infant Saviour, plaiting a
crown of thorns, also belongs to this class. These forms of symbolic
illustration have their modern counterpart in the work of several German
artists. As the Gospel narrative furnishes no actual incidents of the
early childhood of Jesus, he is shown in some attitude which will
suggest his divine calling. Painted by Ittenbach, he raises his right
hand to point the heavenward way, while with his left he indicates his
name inscribed in the letters I. H. S. on the breast of his tunic. In
Sinkel's picture he holds a tablet of the Commandments, with his finger
on the fourth, a sweet expression of Sabbath peace on his face.
Professor Deger's picture expresses a unique and lovely conception of
the Christ-child in the fields, communing with his Father, and preparing
for his ministry. He is a dreamy-looking boy, of delicate features, and
broad, high brow, with fair curls blowing away from his face. Though
alone, he lifts his hand in blessing, as if, in his prophetic
imagination, the meadows were already peopled with the throngs to whom
he is to teach the sweet lessons of the lilies and the sparrow.
[Illustration: THE CHRIST-CHILD.--DEGER.]
The childhood of Jesus came to an end at the age of twelve, when he
awoke to the realization that he must be "about his Father's business."
It was a great moment in the quiet life of the Nazarene lad. Mary and
Joseph having to make their annual journey to Jerusalem to celebrate the
Passover, had brought him with them, and allowed him to wander from
them. Supposing him to be among the company with which they were
travelling, they were well on their homeward way, when they discovered
that he was missing. Returning to the city, and seeking him hither and
thither, they at length found him in the temple, "sitting in the midst
of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions. And all
that heard him were astonished at his understanding and answers."
It was the latter part of this account which the early masters seized as
the _motif_ of the Dispute in the Temple, and interpreted as meaning
that the boy Christ assumed the position of teacher and preacher to the
doctors. In the paintings of Duccio and Giotto, he is sitting on a
platform, with the mien and gesture of a learned doctor; while other
artists place him on a sort of throne or pulpit. It was left to modern
art to conceive the true significance of the event, and to put before us
the eager boy, listening and asking questions.
Professor Heinrich Hofmann's beautiful picture shows a profound insight
into the wonderful childhood of Jesus, as well as a fine sense of
artistic composition. The boy stands in the midst of the group, lifting
his eager, inquiring face to the learned doctors surrounding him. His
expression conveys all the earnestness of his questionings, and at the
same time shows the depth of that power of understanding which so amazed
the listeners. Looking from his bright young face to the staid
countenances of the professed expounders of the law, a new light flashes
upon that mysterious utterance which fell in after times from the
same inspired lips: "I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast
revealed them unto babes."
[Illustration: HEAD OF BOY CHRIST.--HOFMANN.]
* * * * *
NOTES.
NOTES.
CHAPTER I.--PAGE 3.
[1] Of this picture, Claude Phillips justly observes that it
has been "not a little cheapened and obscured by frequent copies, in
which the delicate essence of the original has been allowed to
evaporate; but a glance at the picture itself renews the magic spell
of the master."
The plate for our illustration, being made from a photograph taken
directly from the original painting, reproduces the spirit of the
picture with remarkable fidelity.
CHAPTER II.--PAGE 29.
[2] The children of the English court were not alone in the
good fortune of being immortalized by the brush of Van Dyck. The great
artist also painted a little Prince of Savoy, with his sister,--a
picture which is now in the Royal Gallery at Turin.
[3] A portrait of Prince Balthasar in court dress, by
Velasquez, is in the Belvedere at Vienna.
[4] Dr. Carl Justi has various strong arguments to prove that
the Prado portrait of Maria Theresa is incorrectly so called, and, in
reality, represents the Infanta Marguerite. The picture is, however,
widely accepted as a genuine Maria Theresa, and is catalogued as such by
Curtis. I have, therefore, thought best to follow the opinion of the
majority on this point.
[5] Titian painted a charming portrait of the Princess Strozzi,
which is now in Berlin.
[6] Holbein painted the little Prince Edward, afterwards Edward
VI., in two extant portraits,--one, a miniature, in the possession of
the Duke of Devonshire, another at Windsor.
CHAPTER III.--PAGE 57.
[7] The dates of Gainsborough's life are 1727-1788.
[8] The two pictures for which Jack Hill served as model are
Jack Hill in a Cottage, and Jack Hill, with his Cat, in a Wood.
[9] Gainsborough was followed by several English artists
celebrated for their pictures of the child-life of the country. Of
these, the most notable were Sir David Wilkie and William Collins.
Wilkie's Blind-Man's Buff, and Collins's Happy as a King are
representative examples of their work.
[10] Jean Baptiste Greuze was born in 1725, and died in 1805.
[11] The Father Explaining the Bible to his Children is now in
the Dresden Gallery. Mrs. Stranahan, in her History of French Painting,
calls attention to the fact that the poet Robert Burns celebrates the
same scene in his Cotter's Saturday Night.
[12] The Village Bride, called in French, "L'Accordee du
Village," is in the Louvre, Paris.
[13] Although Greuze is usually spoken of as introducing a new
line of subjects into French art, it is fair to say that Chardin
(1699-1799) had already given the initiative. The Little Girl at
Breakfast, exhibited at the Salon of 1737, and Le Benedicite, from the
Salon of 1740, are highly praised by Mrs. Stranahan for their
sympathetic treatment of domestic scenes in humble life.
[14] This description, which I have rendered somewhat freely
into English, is an extract from a letter addressed by Mademoiselle
Philipon to the Demoiselles Cannet.
CHAPTER IV.--PAGE 87.
[15] The three paintings by Murillo in the Dulwich Gallery, to
which reference is made, are:--
The Flower Girl, Two Boys and a Dog, and Three Boys,--one eating a tart.
The gallery also contains a religious painting by Murillo.
CHAPTER V.--PAGE 115.
[16] The representation of the Crucifixion, with attendant
angels, is very frequent in Renaissance art. For examples among the
earlier painters, Duccio and Giotto may be mentioned, while in a later
period Luini and Gaudenzio adopted the same _motif_, with characteristic
results.
[17] For examples of single child-angels, see Raphael's Madonna
di Foligno, in the Vatican at Rome, and Bartolommeo's Madonna and
Saints, in San Martino, Lucca.
[18] The Madonna of the Church of the Redentore is popularly
attributed to Bellini, but is more probably the work of Luigi Vivarini.
For arguments, see Crowe and Cavalcaselle, History of Painting in North
Italy, vol. i., pages 64 and 186.
CHAPTER VI.--PAGE 141.
[19] My authority on these frescos is Charles I. Hemans, who
states (page 70 of Ancient Christianity and Sacred Art) that "conjecture
has assumed antiquity as high as the first century" for some paintings
in the catacombs of S. Praxedes, but does not mention whether these are
of the number.
Van Dyke, in his Christ-child in Art (page 120), describes an
interesting third century fresco in the catacomb of SS. Marcellinus and
Peter, representing the Adoration of the Magi.
[20] The mosaics at Santa Maria Maggiore are assigned to the
fifth century; those at S. Apollinare Nuova, Ravenna, to the sixth
century. See Hemans, Ancient Christianity and Sacred Art.
For further descriptions of the mosaics at Capua and at Santa Maria in
Trastevere, Rome, see Mrs. Jameson's Legends of the Madonna. For an
engraving of the Virgin and Child in the Ravenna mosaic, see Van Dyke's
Christ-child in Art.
[21] The present location of all the works of Raphael mentioned
in this chapter may be seen in the following list:--
Madonna of the Diadem, Louvre, Paris.
Chair Madonna (Madonna della Sedia), Pitti, Florence.
Madonna of the Casa Tempi, Munich.
Sistine Madonna, Dresden.
The Pearl, Madrid.
Madonna of the Goldfinch (del Cardellino), Pitti, Florence.
Aldobrandini Madonna, National Gallery, London.
Madonna of the Meadow, Vienna.
La Belle Jardiniere, Louvre, Paris.
Madonna of the Casa Canigiani, Munich.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
ALLAN CUNNINGHAM: Great English Painters.
RICHARD REDGRAVE: A Century of Painters of the English School.
NORTHCOTE: Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds.
CLAUDE PHILLIPS: Sir Joshua Reynolds.
HENRY PERCY HORNE: Catalogue of the Engraved Pictures of Gainsborough.
WILLIAM HOOKHAM CARPENTER: Memoirs of Sir Anthony Van Dyck.
STIRLING-MAXWELL: Annals of the Artists of Spain.
CARL JUSTI: Velasquez and his Times (translated by Keane).
STRANAHAN: History of French Painting.
CH. NORMAND: Greuze. (In Series: Artistes Celebres.)
CROWE and CAVALCASELLE: History of Painting in
Italy: History of Painting in North Italy.
T. COLE (Engraver) and W. J. STILLMAN: Old Italian Masters.
EUGENE MUENTZ: Raphael: His Life, Works, and Times.
MRS. ANNA JAMESON: Sacred and Legendary Art;
Legends of the Madonna; History of Our Lord.
CHARLES I. HEMANS: Ancient Christianity and Sacred Art;
Mediaeval Christianity and Sacred Art.
HENRY VAN DYKE: The Christ-Child in Art.
MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF: Journal.
DOROTHY TENNANT STANLEY: Street Arabs.
KARL KAROLY: The Paintings of Florence.
CHARLES L. EASTLAKE: Notes on the Pictures in the Louvre.