I shall notice a class of very singular works, in which the spirit of
romance has been called in to render religion more attractive to certain
heated imaginations.
In the fifteenth century was published a little book of _prayers_,
accompanied by _figures_, both of a very uncommon nature for a religious
publication. It is entitled _Hortulus Animæ, cum Oratiunculis aliquibus
superadditis quæ in prioribus Libris non habentur_.
It is a small octavo _en lettres gothiques_, printed by John Grunninger,
1500. "A garden," says the author, "which abounds with flowers for the
pleasure of the soul;" but they are full of poison. In spite of his fine
promises, the chief part of these meditations are as puerile as they are
superstitious. This we might excuse, because the ignorance and
superstition of the times allowed such things: but the _figures_ which
accompany this work are to be condemned in all ages; one represents
Saint Ursula and some of her eleven thousand virgins, with all the
licentious inventions of an Aretine. What strikes the ear does not so
much irritate the senses, observes the sage Horace, as what is presented
in all its nudity to the eye. One of these designs is only ridiculous:
David is represented as examining Bathsheba bathing, while Cupid
hovering throws his dart, and with a malicious smile triumphs in his
success. We have had many gross anachronisms in similar designs. There
is a laughable picture in a village in Holland, in which Abraham appears
ready to sacrifice his son Isaac by a loaded blunderbuss; but his pious
intention is entirely frustrated by an angel urining in the pan. In
another painting, the Virgin receives the annunciation of the angel
Gabriel with a huge chaplet of beads tied round her waist, reading her
own offices, and kneeling before a crucifix; another happy invention, to
be seen on an altar-piece at Worms, is that in which the Virgin throws
Jesus into the hopper of a mill, while from the other side he issues
changed into little morsels of bread, with which the priests feast the
people. Matthison, a modern traveller, describes a picture in a church
at Constance, called the Conception of the Holy Virgin. An old man lies
on a cloud, whence he darts out a vast beam, which passes through a dove
hovering just below; at the end of a beam appears a large transparent
egg, in which egg is seen a child in swaddling clothes with a glory
round it. Mary sits leaning in an arm chair, and opens her mouth to
receive the egg.
I must not pass unnoticed in this article a production as extravagant in
its design, in which the author prided himself in discussing three
thousand questions concerning the Virgin Mary.
The publication now adverted to was not presented to the world in a
barbarous age and in a barbarous country, but printed at Paris in 1668.
It bears for title, _Dévote Salutation des Membres sacres du Corps de la
Glorieuse Vièrge, Mère de Dieu_. That is, "A Devout Salutation of the
Holy Members of the Body of the glorious Virgin, Mother of God." It was
printed and published with an approbation and privilege, which is more
strange than the work itself. Valois reprobates it in these just terms:
"What would Innocent XI. have done, after having abolished the shameful
_Office of the Conception, Indulgences, &c._ if he had seen a volume in
which the impertinent devotion of that visionary monk caused to be
printed, with permission of his superiors, Meditations on all the Parts
of the Body of the Holy Virgin? Religion, decency, and good sense, are
equally struck at by such an extravagance." I give a specimen of the
most decent of these _salutations_.
_Salutation to the Hair._
"I salute you, charming hair of Maria! Rays of the mystical sun! Lines
of the centre and circumference of all created perfection! Veins of gold
of the mine of love! Chains of the prison of God! Roots of the tree of
life! Rivulets of the fountain of Paradise! Strings of the bow of
charity! Nets that caught Jesus, and shall be used in the hunting-day of
souls!"
_Salutation to the Ears._
"I salute ye, intelligent ears of Maria! ye presidents of the princes of
the poor! Tribunal for their petitions; salvation at the audience of the
miserable! University of all divine wisdom! Receivers general of all
wards! Ye are pierced with the rings of our chains; ye are impearled
with our necessities!"
The images, prints, and miniatures, with which the catholic religion has
occasion to decorate its splendid ceremonies, have frequently been
consecrated to the purposes of love: they have been so many votive
offerings worthy to have been suspended in the temple of Idalia. Pope
Alexander VI. had the images of the Virgin made to represent some of his
mistresses; the famous Vanozza, his favourite, was placed on the altar
of Santa, Maria del Popolo; and Julia Farnese furnished a subject for
another Virgin. The same genius of pious gallantry also visited our
country. The statuaries made the queen of Henry III. a model for the
face of the Virgin Mary. Hearne elsewhere affirms, that the Virgin Mary
was generally made to bear a resemblance to the queens of the age,
which, no doubt, produced some real devotion among the courtiers.
The prayer-books of certain pious libertines were decorated with the
portraits of their favourite minions and ladies in the characters of
saints, and even of the Virgin and Jesus. This scandalous practice was
particularly prevalent in that reign of debauchery in France, when Henry
III. held the reins of government with a loose hand. In a missal once
appertaining to the queen of Louis XII. may be seen a mitred ape, giving
its benediction to a man prostrate before it; a keen reproach to the
clergy of that day. Charles V., however pious that emperor affected to
be, had a missal painted for his mistress by the great Albert Durer, the
borders of which are crowded with extravagant grotesques, consisting of
apes, who were sometimes elegantly sportive, giving clysters to one
another, and in more offensive attitudes, not adapted to heighten the
piety of the Royal Mistress. This missal has two French verses written
by the Emperor himself, who does not seem to have been ashamed of his
present. The Italians carried this taste to excess. The manners of our
country were more rarely tainted with this deplorable licentiousness,
although I have observed an innocent tendency towards it, by examining
the illuminated manuscripts of our ancient metrical romances: while we
admire the vivid colouring of these splendid manuscripts, the curious
observer will perceive that almost every heroine is represented in a
state which appears incompatible with her reputation. Most of these
works are, I believe, by French artists.
A supplement might be formed to religious indecencies from the Golden
Legend, which abounds in them. Henry Stephens's Apology for Herodotus
might be likewise consulted with effect for the same purpose. There is a
story of St. Mary the Egyptian, who was perhaps a looser liver than Mary
Magdalen; for not being able to pay for her passage to Jerusalem,
whither she was going to adore the holy cross and sepulchre, in despair
she thought of an expedient in lieu of payment to the ferryman, which
required at least going twice, instead of once, to Jerusalem as a
penitential pilgrimage. This anecdote presents the genuine character of
certain _devotees_.
Melchior Inchoffer, a Jesuit, published a book to vindicate the miracle
of a _Letter_ which the Virgin Mary had addressed to the citizens of
Messina: when Naudé brought him positive proofs of its evident forgery,
Inchoffer ingenuously confessed the imposture, but pleaded that it was
done by the _orders_ of his _superiors_.
This same _letter_ of the Virgin Mary was like a _donation_ made to her
by Louis the Eleventh of the _whole county_ of Boulogne, retaining,
however, for _his own use the revenues_! This solemn act bears the date
of the year 1478, and is entitled, "Conveyance of Louis the Eleventh to
the Virgin of Boulogne, of the right and title of the fief and homage of
the county of Boulogne, which is held by the Count of Saint Pol, to
render a faithful account before the image of the said lady."
Maria Agreda, a religious visionary, wrote _The Life of the Virgin_. She
informs us that she resisted the commands of God and the holy Mary till
the year 1637, when she began to compose this curious rhapsody. When she
had finished this _original_ production, her confessor advised her to
_burn_ it; she obeyed. Her friends, however, who did not think her less
inspired than she informed them she was, advised her to re-write the
work. When printed it spread rapidly from country to country: new
editions appeared at Lisbon, Madrid, Perpignan, and Antwerp. It was the
rose of Sharon for those climates. There are so many pious absurdities
in this book, which were found to give such pleasure to the devout, that
it was solemnly honoured with the censure of the Sorbonne; and it spread
the more.
The head of this lady was quite turned by her religion. In the first six
chapters she relates the visions of the Virgin, which induced her to
write her life. She begins the history _ab ovo_, as it may be expressed;
for she has formed a narrative of what passed during the nine months in
which the Virgin was confined in the womb of her mother St. Anne. After
the birth of Mary, she received an augmentation of angelic guards; we
have several conversations which God held with the Virgin during the
first eighteen months after her birth. And it is in this manner she
formed a _circulating novel_, which delighted the female devotees of the
seventeenth century.
The worship paid to the Virgin Mary in Spain and Italy exceeds that
which is given to the Son or the Father. When they pray to Mary, their
imagination pictures a beautiful woman, they really feel a _passion_;
while Jesus is only regarded as a _Bambino_, or infant at the breast,
and the _Father_ is hardly ever recollected: but the _Madonna la
Senhora, la Maria Santa_, while she inspires their religious
inclinations, is a mistress to those who have none.
Of similar works there exists an entire race, and the libraries of the
curious may yet preserve a shelf of these religious _nouvellettes_. The
Jesuits were the usual authors of these rhapsodies. I find an account of
a book which pretends to describe what passes in Paradise. A Spanish
Jesuit published at Salamanca a volume in folio, 1652, entitled
_Empyreologia_. He dwells with great complacency on the joys of the
celestial abode; there always will be music in heaven with material
instruments as our ears are already accustomed to; otherwise he thinks
the celestial music would not be music for us! But another Jesuit is
more particular in his accounts. He positively assures us that we shall
experience a supreme pleasure in kissing and embracing the bodies of the
blessed; they will bathe in the presence of each other, and for this
purpose there are most agreeable baths in which we shall swim like fish;
that we shall all warble as sweetly as larks and nightingales; that the
angels will dress themselves in female habits, their hair curled;
wearing petticoats and fardingales, and with the finest linen; that men
and women will amuse themselves in masquerades, feasts, and
balls.--Women will sing more agreeably than men to heighten these
entertainments, and at the resurrection will have more luxuriant
tresses, ornamented with ribands and head-dresses as in this life!
Such were the books once so devoutly studied, and which doubtless were
often literally understood. How very bold must the minds of the Jesuits
have been, and how very humble those of their readers, that such
extravagances should ever be published! And yet, even to the time in
which I am now writing,--even at this day,--the same picturesque and
impassioned pencil is employed by the modern Apostles of Mysticism--the
Swedenborgians, the Moravians, the Methodists!
I find an account of another book of this class, ridiculous enough to be
noticed. It has for title, "The Spiritual Kalendar, composed of as many
Madrigals or Sonnets and Epigrams as there are days in the year;
written for the consolation of the pious and the curious. By Father G.
Cortade, Austin Preacher at Bayonne, 1665." To give a notion of this
singular collection take an Epigram addressed to a Jesuit, who, young as
he was, used to _put spurs under his shirt_ to mortify the outer man!
The Kalendar-poet thus gives a point to these spurs:--
Il ne pourra done plus ni ruer ni hennir
Sous le rude Eperon dont tu fais son supplice;
Qui vit jamais tel artifice,
De piquer un cheval pour le mieux retenir!