always represented him as the most beautiful of the twelve. As the
most Christ-like in character, he is made to resemble the typical
figure of Christ. So in this fresco by Correggio, he is a beautiful
youth, with the curling hair, the oval face and the regular features
we associate with the person of Jesus. Though the beardless face is so
refined, there is nothing weak or effeminate about it. The whole
figure is indeed very manly. The head is well set on a full throat and
the shoulders are broad. Rising to his feet St. John would be a tall,
athletic young man, capable of lending a strong hand at his father's
fishing-nets. The union of strength and refinement makes the picture
one of the most attractive ideals of St. John ever painted.
The keynote of St. John's Gospel is the love of God; his ardent nature
never wearied of the theme; the wonder in his lifted face shows him
still intent upon the mystery. Were we to seek some characteristic
utterance which should appropriately interpret his thoughts, it might
well be the words of Jesus to Nicodemus, "God so loved the world that
he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should
not perish, but have everlasting life."[15]
[Footnote 15: St. John, chapter iii., verse 16.]
VII
ST. JOHN AND ST. AUGUSTINE
The church of S. Giovanni Evangelista (St. John the Evangelist), in
Parma, is built with a dome-shaped cupola which Correggio filled with
a fresco decoration. The subject is drawn from the life of the apostle
whose name is given to the church: it is the vision of St. John on the
isle of Patmos. Looking up into the dome, one seems to be looking
directly into the open sky, upon the figure of Christ ascending into
heaven. The apostles sit in a circle on the clouds, and beneath them
the aged St. John kneels on the mountain top, gazing upwards upon the
vision. The heavenly spaces are alive with angels, for, as Browning
writes:--
"Correggio loves to mass, in rifts
Of heaven, his angel faces, orb on orb."
The little creatures are sporting among the clouds and, in the poet's
phrase, "waiting to see some wonder momently grow out."
Where the dome rests upon the four arches which support it, are four
triangular corner-pieces called pendentives, which also belong to
Correggio's decorative plan. They are devoted respectively to the
figures of the four Evangelists, each one accompanied by one of the
four Fathers of the Church. The Christian Fathers were the men whose
writings and teachings shaped the doctrines of the faith in the early
centuries of our era. They interpreted for the people the meaning of
the Scriptures and the Gospels.
The pendentive of our illustration contains St. John with St.
Augustine. The two sit side by side, engaged in a discussion over the
book which they hold together. St. John is young and beautiful, as the
painters always represent him, except in the subject of the vision of
Patmos. The face is perhaps less strong and the expression less
exalted than in the lunette we have studied. There is a boyish
eagerness in his manner. The symbolic eagle is beside him, peeping out
from the folds of the drapery. St. Augustine is a handsome old man
with finely cut features. To understand how well the figure fits his
character, we must know something of his life.[16]
[Footnote 16: The life of St. Augustine, also called St. Austin, is
related in the _Golden Legend_. See Caxton's translation in the
_Temple Classics_, vol. 5, page 44. Mrs. Jameson gives a condensed
account of the life in _Sacred and Legendary Art_, p. 303.]
He was born in Numidia near the middle of the fourth century, and
showed in his boyhood brilliant powers of mind. Without the help of
any teacher he read and mastered all the books necessary to an
education in the liberal arts. His mother, Monica, was a devout
Christian, and sought to lead her son to a godly life. For a long time
her efforts seemed in vain. Augustine would make no profession of the
Christian faith, but rather indulged in youthful dissipations. His
best quality was his love of study. He became a teacher of rhetoric,
and pursued his vocation in one city and another, always dissatisfied
with his life. At length, in his thirtieth year, he came to Milan,
where he fell under the influence of Bishop Ambrose. Then followed a
mighty struggle in his soul, and in the end he yielded himself
joyfully as a disciple of Christ. On the occasion of his baptism was
composed the hymn called the "Te Deum" which is still used in
churches.
[Illustration: ST. JOHN AND ST. AUGUSTINE
_Church of S. Giovanni Evangelista, Parma_]
Henceforth the life of Augustine was filled with Christian labors.
After some ten years of devout living he became the bishop of Hippo
(near Carthage) where he resided for thirty-five years, until his
death in 430. All his stores of learning were devoted to the
explanation of Christian theology. He wrote a great number of
treatises refuting what he believed to be heresies, and setting forth
what he considered the true doctrines of the faith. An old writer
pronounced him "sweet in speech, wise in letters, and a noble worker
in the labours of the church." In a book of "Confessions" he laid bare
all his faults with great humility.
In our picture the good bishop is learning the truths of the faith
from St. John, while a child-angel behind him holds his crosier and
mitre. Allowing for the difference of ages, there is a certain
resemblance between the two men, showing that they have in common a
refined and sensitive nature, and an ardent temperament. The older
man's face shows lines of thought and character.
St. John seems to be counting off the points of the discussion on his
fingers: it may be that he is unfolding the doctrine of the Trinity.
The bishop follows the argument slowly, imitating St. John's gesture
with hesitating hands. What seems so clear to the eager young teacher
requires much deliberation on the part of the learner. The old man
knits his brows with an intent expression, striving to understand the
mystery. The two earnest faces turned towards each other make an
interesting contrast.
The angel figures of the pendentive are worthy of notice. Three little
creatures are frolicking on the clouds below the saints' feet, and two
are perched on the upper part of the arches. They are wingless
sprites, playful as human children, but with a grace and beauty not of
earth. Two seem to be emerging from a hiding-place in the clouds, and
gaily hail their comrade on the arch above. The lovely sprite on the
opposite arch is thinking of other things, and looks over his shoulder
across the church. The tiny fellow in charge of the mitre and crosier
peeps out with a mischievous countenance.
Our reproduction shows a portion of the soffits, or under sides of the
arches, decorated with figures from Old Testament history, painted in
monochrome.
VIII
ST. MATTHEW AND ST. JEROME
The apostle Matthew was employed as a tax-gatherer in Jerusalem when
he became a disciple of Jesus. He was sitting one day at the receipt
of customs, when Jesus passed by and said unto him, "Follow me." "And
he left all, rose up and followed him."[17] Soon after, the new
disciple made a great feast for the Master, scandalizing the scribes
and Pharisees by inviting guests of doubtful reputation. Matthew,
however, had rightly judged the spirit of Jesus, who had come "not to
call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." Throughout the
ministry of Jesus, Matthew remained a faithful disciple, but without
distinguishing himself in any way. Evidently he had a thoughtful mind
and a good memory. In his Gospel he reported very fully the Sermon on
the Mount and many of the parables.
[Footnote 17: St. Luke, chapter v., verse 28.]
One of the pendentives of the cupola in the church of S. Giovanni
Evangelista is devoted to St. Matthew in company with St. Jerome. The
Evangelist turns from the open Gospel before him to speak to St.
Jerome, who is occupied with his writing. A winged cherub, sitting on
a cloud in front of him, supports his book with both outstretched
arms. The cherub is St. Matthew's emblem, as the eagle is that of St.
John. It is by this charming figure that the old masters represented
the face of "a man," that is, the human face, in the "living creature"
of Ezekiel's vision.[18] The symbol is appropriately applied to the
first Evangelist because his Gospel emphasizes the humanity of Jesus.
[Footnote 18: See also pages 34, 35.]
The token of St. Jerome's identity is the cardinal's hat, held by an
angel on the arch beside him. The two volumes on his lap, in addition
to the scroll upon which he is engaged, show how busy has been the pen
of this learned Father. As the old chronicler relates, "he never
rested day ne night, but always read or wrote."[19]
[Footnote 19: The life of St. Jerome is related in the _Golden
Legend_. See Caxton's translation, in the _Temple Classics_, vol. v.,
page 199. Mrs. Jameson gives a condensed account of the same in
_Sacred and Legendary Art_, page 280.]
He came of a rich family, and received at Rome the best education
afforded by his times. Like his contemporary, St. Augustine, he
devoted all his scholarship to the service of the Christian faith.
While St. Augustine's tastes were more philosophical, St. Jerome's
were perhaps more for pure learning and the study of the classics. He
made himself master of Hebrew and Greek, and his most valuable work
was his translations. He rendered into Latin, which was the literary
language of his day, the various books of the Old and New Testament,
and this version became the authorized Bible or Vulgate.
[Illustration: ST. MATTHEW AND ST. JEROME
_Church of S. Giovanni Evangelista, Parma_]
St. Jerome was a Dalmatian by birth, but in the course of his life
he journeyed to many countries. Soon after his baptism, he visited
Syria, to retrace the scenes of the life of Christ. He then retired to
a desert, where he passed four years in penance and fasting, living in
the companionship of wild beasts. Clothed in sackcloth, he spent his
days in torture, struggling with temptation, and haunted by visions of
demons.
At a later period of his life he was in Rome, where he gained an
immense influence over fashionable women. Two of his converts here
were Paula and Marcella, whose names are historical. Finally he
returned to Palestine, and passed the remainder of his days in a
monastery which he had founded in Bethlehem. He was a man of vehement
nature, a violent partisan, and an untiring student.
Something of his character may be seen in the face of the old man of
our picture, bending over his writing. He seems so absorbed in his
task that he is entirely unconscious of his surroundings. The deep-set
eyes, overhung by shaggy brows, are fixed intently on his scroll. From
his association with St. Matthew, we may fancy that he is translating
the first Gospel. The Evangelist, with his own volume before him, is
supervising the work. He turns to the translator with an encouraging
smile, and seems to dictate the words. St. Matthew's face is gentle
and amiable, though not so strong as we are wont to imagine it. He is
here represented in middle life, at about the age when called to
discipleship.
As in the pendentive of St. John and St. Augustine, the angel figures
add an element of beauty to the picture. Each one seems attracted by
some distant object. The cherub holding St. Matthew's book looks
towards the worshippers in the church. Some one in the congregation
also seems to attract the attention of the angel with the cardinal's
hat, and he smiles shyly, as if in reply to a gesture of admiration.
His companion on the other arch turns his eyes towards the figures in
the dome, where the apostles are enthroned on clouds. The playful
little fellow on the clouds below St. Matthew's feet looks across at
the sprites of the opposite pendentive.
All this charming by-play gives the impression of a company of living
spirits frolicking among the arches of the church. "Have Correggio's
_putti_[20] grown up yet and walked out of their frames?" the painter,
Guido Reni, used to ask, referring with quaint humor to the wonderful
lifelikeness of such child figures. So, looking at these angels, we
half expect to see them wave a hand to us over the arches, and,
turning with a sudden motion, disappear from our sight among the
clouds.
[Footnote 20: Italian for "boys."]
IX
THE REST ON THE RETURN FROM EGYPT
(The Madonna della Scodella)
Before the child Jesus was two years old, he was taken on a journey
which at that time was long and tedious. An angel appeared to Joseph
one night in a dream, saying, "Arise, and take the young child and his
mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee
word; for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him."
The news of Jesus' birth had been first brought to King Herod by the
wise men of the East, who came in search of the new-born king whose
star they had seen. The idea of a strange ruler to usurp the throne
alarmed Herod, and he determined to be rid of any possible rival.
Accordingly orders were given to slay all children in and near
Bethlehem "from two years old and under."
While this terrible slaughter was going on, the Holy Family were
making their way to the strange land of refuge. Here they lived,
awaiting heavenly guidance for their return. "But when Herod was dead,
behold an angel of the Lord appeareth in a dream to Joseph in Egypt,
saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and go into
the land of Israel; for they are dead which sought the young child's
life. And he arose, and took the young child and his mother, and came
into the land of Israel."[21]
[Footnote 21: The quotations are from St. Matthew, chapter ii.]
This is all the Evangelist tells us of what was doubtless an exciting,
perhaps even a perilous adventure. We may suppose both journeys to
have been made by donkeys, the common beasts of burden in Eastern
countries. The young mother and child must certainly have had to ride.
As for Joseph, he was a sturdy man, and may well have walked; in those
days travelling was a matter of time. Unused to luxuries, these simple
folk trusted in Providence to supply their few needs by the way.
Our picture illustrates an imaginary incident on the return journey
from Egypt to Israel. It is the hour of the noonday rest, and the
little company have come to a halt in the woods. An old legend relates
how at such times the trees would bend to offer them fruit, and
springs would gush forth out of the dry ground for their refreshment.
Mary has seated herself on a bank by the stream, while Joseph plucks
the fruit from the date palm near by.
The boy Jesus has been standing between the two, watching Joseph, from
whose outstretched hand he now takes the fruit. At the same time he is
thirsty, and leaning back towards his mother, he turns and throws an
arm over her shoulder, asking for a drink of water. She has a round
basin (or _scodella_) which the family use as a drinking-cup, and the
child points to it with a coaxing smile, resting his hand on her
wrist.
[Illustration: THE REST ON THE RETURN FROM EGYPT (MADONNA DELLA SCODELLA)
_Parma Gallery_]
Mary turns with fond pride towards the dear little face so near her
own. Her face is the same which we have already seen bending in a
mother's first ecstasy over her babe. Here it has a maturer and more
matronly look, but with no less sweetness. Joseph, from his higher
level, looks down kindly upon the two. His generous nature seems to
take delight in anything that gives them pleasure. He is large and
heavily built, a stalwart protector should perils beset them. In spite
of the thick draperies so clumsily wound about him, he is a dignified
figure. He holds here a place of prominence seldom given him by other
painters.
The child upon whom so much love is lavished is a tall, lithe boy with
a well shaped head. His hair is parted, and falls in loose curls on
each side of a forehead which marks him a child of genius. The face is
delicate and sensitive, with a shy expression in the eyes.
The family are not alone, for, all unseen by them, a company of
ministering angels wait upon them. A tall one in the rear takes care
of the donkey. Another little creature peeps from the thicket beside
Mary. Four more circle overhead among the branches of the trees, borne
upon little clouds which they have brought with them from the upper
regions. Their wind-blown hair and fluttering garments show how swift
is their motion. One of them tugs mightily at the palm, throwing
himself backward in the effort to bend it towards Joseph. Two others
sport together with interlocked arms, and higher still, a pair of
eyes gleam through the leaves. The whole jocund company seem to fill
the place with mirth. They fulfil the promise of the ancient psalmist,
"He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy
ways."
Certain characteristics of Correggio's art are well illustrated in the
picture. His delight in the foot is here almost equal to that he shows
for the hand in "The Marriage of St. Catherine." The three wayfarers
travel with bare feet, and the ministering angels flaunt their feet
gaily in the air. Drawn in many positions, it is interesting to see
how decorative this feature of the picture is.
The figures are cleverly grouped, that they may completely fill the
tall, narrow panel. The composition is built on a diagonal plan. From
the left hand of Joseph, grasping the palm branch, to the right hand
of Mary, with the basin of water, runs the strong main line which
gives character to the drawing. The child links the two larger figures
together, by stretching out a hand to each. The group of cloud-borne
angels above also follows a diagonal direction parallel to the larger
group. We shall presently see that the painter used the same method of
composition in another picture.
The opening beyond the copse, where the donkey is tied, makes the spot
seem less gloomy and isolated. It is an important principle of art to
represent no enclosed place without a glimpse of light in the
background.
X
ECCE HOMO
The old Hebrew prophet who wrote of the coming Messiah predicted that
he should be "despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows, and
acquainted with grief." How fully the prophecy was realized, we may
read in the narrative of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus.
The enemies of Jesus had to deal with their prisoner according to the
formality of the Roman law. They brought him to the Roman governor,
Pontius Pilate, accusing him of "perverting the nation, and forbidding
to give tribute to Caesar, saying that he himself is Christ, a
king."[22] The governor duly examined Jesus, but, finding no case
against him, proposed to scourge him and let him go.
[Footnote 22: St. Luke, chapter xxiii., verse 2.]
"Then Pilate therefore took Jesus and scourged him. And the soldiers
platted a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and they put on him
a purple robe, and said, Hail, King of the Jews! and they smote him
with their hands. Pilate therefore went forth again, and saith unto
them, Behold, I bring him forth to you, that ye may know that I find
no fault in him.
"Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns, and the purple
robe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the man! When the chief
priests therefore and officers saw him, they cried out, saying Crucify
him, Crucify him."[23] Pilate again sought to release Jesus, but the
people continued to clamor, "Away with him," "Crucify him." "Then
delivered he him therefore unto them to be crucified."[24]
[Footnote 23: St. John, chapter xix., verses 1-6.]
[Footnote 24: _Ib._, verse 16.]
The Latin form of Pilate's words, "Behold the man," has given the
title "Ecce Homo" to our picture. It is the moment when Jesus comes
forth from the rude mockery of the soldiers, clad in a royal robe, and
wearing the crown of thorns. The governor has bidden one of the
soldiers lead the prisoner out on a balcony of the palace. An eager
throng of people are waiting outside, but they are not all enemies.
Among them are a few faithful women, and they are allowed to press
close to the balcony. At the sight of her son, treated as a criminal
with bound hands, the mother, Mary, falls swooning over the
balustrade, supported by a younger woman.
Pilate standing in the doorway behind appeals to the crowd: "I find no
fault in him. Behold the man." He has been deeply impressed by his
interview with Jesus, and is willing to do something in his behalf.
His face is good-natured, we see, but with no strength of character in
it. He is a handsome man with curling beard carefully trimmed,
apparently not a hard man to deal with, but easy-going and selfish.
[Illustration: ECCE HOMO
_National Gallery, London_]
Jesus stands with drooping head and an expression of suffering
resignation. In the menacing faces before him he sees the hatred which
will be satisfied with nothing less than his death. Already he hears
the cruel cry, "Crucify him, crucify him." His badge of kingship is
the crown of suffering. Were his kingdom of this world, his servants
would deliver him from his enemies. As the ruler of a heavenly
kingdom, he was born "to bear witness unto the truth."
The rich mantle, which the soldiers have mockingly thrown over his
shoulders, falls away and shows the body as it had been bared for the
scourging. It is a beautiful form, perfectly developed, and the arms
and hands are as delicately modelled as a woman's. The face is oval,
with regular features of classic mould, a short parted beard, and long
hair falling in disordered curls about it. This is the typical face of
Christ, as it has been handed down from generation to generation since
early in the Christian era. The rude pictures in the catacombs are on
the same model. So faithfully has the type been followed through the
centuries, some believe that the original must have been an authentic
likeness.[25]
[Footnote 25: See _Rex Regum_, by Sir Wyke Bayliss.]
The mother Mary is still young and beautiful. As the great
Michelangelo said, "Purity enjoys eternal youth."[26] A heavy veil or
mantle is draped over her head, framing the pure profile of her face.
This form of drapery is common among the old masters in painting Mary
as _Mater Dolorosa_, or the Sorrowing Mother.
[Footnote 26: See the volume on Michelangelo in the _Riverside Art
Series_, page 35.]
Artistically considered, this figure of the fainting mother is the
finest thing in the picture. Her companion, probably Mary Magdalene,
is also a lovely creature, though we see only a part of her face.
The subject is in tragic contrast to the illustrations we have just
been studying. It seems strange to connect this Man of Sorrows with
the happy boy we saw by the woodland spring, or this grief-stricken
woman with that proud young mother. Correggio himself, we know, shrank
from such sad themes.
Like the picture of The Marriage of St. Catherine, our illustration
shows how skilfully Correggio painted hands. The drooping fingers of
the Saviour taper delicately, with long almond-shaped nails. Pilate's
hand has slender, flexible fingers like those of some dainty woman,
and might be mated with that of Mary Magdalene. It is apparent that
the study of hands and feet interested our painter more than that of
faces. We shall lose much in his pictures if we do not give special
attention to these features. In the case before us, the face of Christ
must be less attractive, on account of the sorrowful expression. To
make up, as it were, for this, the hands are brought into prominent
notice, and are very beautiful.
XI
APOSTLES AND GENII
The glory of Parma is the Cathedral, which represents the labors of
many centuries. The building itself was begun in 1058, and completed
in the thirteenth century. The interior was beautified by a succession
of artists, one of whom was our painter Correggio. His work here was
the decoration of the cupola, and he began it immediately upon
finishing the frescoes in the church of S. Giovanni Evangelista.
The Cathedral dome is octagonal in shape. In the roof, or topmost
space, the Virgin Mary seems borne on circling throngs of saints and
angels to meet the Saviour in the upper air. Below the dome runs a
cornice, or frieze, in eight sections, filled with figures of apostles
gazing upon the vision. Still lower are four decorated pendentives,
similar to those in the church of S. Giovanni Evangelista. These
contain respectively the four patron saints of Parma.