CHAPTER XV.

_THE SACRED PAINTERS AND COMPOSERS._

IMAGES AND PICTURES IN CHURCHES.

The Romish Church has from the beginning looked favourably on the practice

of adorning churches with images and pictures of sacred persons. At Nola,

in 460, the cathedral of St. Felix had wall paintings of stories taken

from the Old Testament. In 752 a council of the Church required images to

be erected in churches, and worship of these was inculcated as a

remembrance of the holy lives and conversation of the dead. The Iconoclast

movement (see _ante_, p. 129) shook faith in the practice for about a

century; but the Council of Nicæa, in 787, closed the controversy by

approving the practice, and the opposition died out in 842. There seems no

limit to the number or subjects of the wall paintings, and the Popes

greatly encouraged them. In England at the Reformation images were

directed to be taken down and destroyed. Very few wall paintings are found

in any English churches, and they are of small value or importance.

THE RUNAGATE MONK PAINTERS.

"I learned," says Hugo of St. Victor, "from a certain prudent and

religious man that there are some kinds of people who can scarcely ever be

retained with order in the religious life. These are painters, physicians,

and buffoons, who are accustomed to travel in different countries. Men of

this description can hardly ever be stable. The art of painting is very

delightful; for when a painter has painted a church, a chapter-room, a

refectory, or any cabinets, if leave be granted to him, on being invited

he goes soon to another monastery for the sake of painting. He paints the

works of Christ upon a wall, but it never occurs to him to imitate the

works in his own life and manners. So with the medical art; it needs an

abundance of aromatic plants and medicines. When any one near the church

falls sick, he is asked to go to see the patient, and the abbot can

hardly refuse permission. Then he is always making experiments on things

uncertain and making fallacious statements. Whereas a true monk should

never speak out on anything. So it is with buffoons and jesters, who are

always bent on rambling. The Fathers of the Council in the eighth century

well decreed that monasteries should be the habitations of men labouring

to serve God in silence and peace, and not mere receptacles of arts which

minister to pleasure--not places for poets, minstrels, and musicians, but

for men praying, reading, and praising God."

THE PICTURES IN MONASTERIES.

The monasteries were the nurseries of the arts of painting, sculpture, and

music. Many of them contained exquisite frescoes of sacred subjects.

Ghiberti, the most ancient historian of art in Italy, spoke with

enthusiasm of a great composition with which Ambrose de Lorenzo had

covered the walls of a cloister, in which he represented the life of a

Christian missionary. First a young man taking the habit of a monk; then

entreating to be sent to convert the Saracens; then the departure and

arrival before the Sultan, who orders him to be scourged; then condemning

him to die; the decapitation; then a horrible tempest, during which vast

trees are torn up by the roots and the people fly in terror. In the

refectory of the convent of San Salvi, near Florence, Andrea del Sarto

painted four figures of saints and the Last Supper; and during the siege

in 1529, when the Florentines were compelled to demolish all buildings and

reached this great fresco, they were struck dumb and motionless with

admiration. One holy brother, lately in the Escurial monastery, guiding

from cell to cell and room to room a British painter (Wilkie), pointed out

that glorious work of Titian the Lord's Last Supper, beautiful as when it

first graced the refectory. As both stood with eyes transfixed at that

masterpiece, the holy father said to the stranger: "Here daily do we sit,

thanks given to God for daily bread; and here pondering the mischiefs of

these restless times, and thinking of my brethren dead and gone, I not

seldom gaze upon this solemn company unmoved by shock of circumstance or

lapse of years, until I cannot but believe that they, these pictures, are

in truth the substance and we the shadows."

THE SACRO MONTE DE VARALLO.

On the road from Anna to Varallo, in North Italy, the Sacro Monte, an

eminence of great beauty, is seen and is resorted to by pilgrims from all

quarters. At the foot is the church of St. Francis, where the wall

dividing the nave from the choir is painted in fresco in nineteen

compartments, representing the chief events in the life of the Saviour.

The hill of the Sacro Monte is covered with a series of fifty chapels or

oratories, containing groups of figures of characters executed in

terra-cotta, painted and clothed. They are grouped so as to represent

passages in Christ's history. The structures are never entered, being

merely frames or cases to contain the respective subjects, which are

viewed from two or three peepholes in front. Some of the figures are very

indifferent works of art; others are of great merit. The oratories are

richly decorated with façades, porticoes, and domes, and the figures are

the size of life. The walls are all painted, and painters, sculptors, and

architects have vied in producing their highest arts of embellishment.

Much effect is produced by the situation of some of the groups. The access

to the place where Christ is laid in the sepulchre is by a vault where

little light is admitted; and as it is difficult on entering from the open

day to distinguish at first any object, the result is very impressive.

Many of the figures are clothed in real drapery, and some have real hair.

The executioners conducting the Saviour to Calvary are made as hideous and

repulsive as possible, and are represented with goitres appended to their

throats. This Sacro Monte originated in the piety of the blessed St.

Bernardino Caimo, or Coloto, a Milanese noble.

MIRACULOUS IMAGES IN SPAIN.

In Spain all classes were devout believers in miraculous images and

effigies of all kinds. Holy kerchiefs were preserved at Alicante, stamped

with the Saviour's face; and winding-sheets revealing the same print were

adored at Oviedo. In his "History of Painting" Palomino relates how a

Christian and Jew labouring in a vineyard disputed about the Messiah,

until the Jew, losing patience, exclaimed he would believe in Christ if He

would emerge from that vine stock, and which thereupon forthwith became a

crucifix. He also tells how at Valencia, on the death of a devout lady,

the wax dropping from a taper that burned before her coffin shaped itself

into a crucifix, and was treasured as a relic. Once an artist was employed

by St. Theresa to paint our Lord at the column as she had beheld Him in a

vision; and after failing to express the lady abbess's ideas, he at last

found his unsatisfactory picture had been finished to perfection by an

angel artist. And at a later time, when this same picture was restored,

the nuns were told by the two artists employed that they saw the very

finger of the angel as it traced the outlines. And when a pilgrim was

engaged at Calatayud to paint St. Ignatius Loyola, he did it so well that

he was supposed to be an angel in disguise. And by the same Divine

influences the portrait of St. Jerome and the lion was found traced in the

mottlings of a jasper.

CIMABUE'S PICTURE OF THE MADONNA (1302).

Cimabue, an Italian painter, who died in 1302, painted for a church in

Florence a picture of the Madonna, which excited great enthusiasm in the

public. Charles of Anjou, King of Naples, passing through Florence while

the artist was at work, was taken to see it at the artist's studio in a

garden. It had been till then only known to confidants; but when the

rumour spread, all Florence crowded to have a glimpse. Nothing before that

period had been seen in Tuscany like this picture. When finished, it was

carried in solemn procession to the church, followed by the whole

population, and with such triumph and rejoicing that the quarter where the

painter lived took its name from this event. The figure of the Virgin, as

now judged by critics, is neither beautiful nor graceful, but there is a

dignity and a majesty in her mien and an expression of inward ponderings

and sad anticipations rising from her heart to her eyes which rivet the

memory. The Child, too, blessing with His right hand is full of deity; and

the attendant angels, though like each other as twins, have much grace and

sweetness. The picture still hangs in the church of the Dominicans in

Santa Maria Novella. Cimabue was one of those conscientious painters who,

on noticing the least blemish in his work, would destroy it without

compunction, however much trouble it had caused him.

THE BISHOP'S APE TAKES TO PAINTING (1302).

In 1302 Buonamico Buffalmacco, the painter, was passing through Arezzo,

when Bishop Guido, hearing of his being a cheerful companion as well as

great artist, requested him to stay with him and paint the chapel where

the baptistery now is, the subject being "the Crucifixion." The painter

set to work and completed a large part of it. It happened that the bishop

had a large ape of extraordinary cunning and full of mischief, and which

sometimes stood on the scaffold watching the work with great interest,

particularly the mode of mixing the colours and pouring out from the

various flasks, and beating up the eggs. One Sunday morning the ape

contrived, in the absence of the painter, to get on the scaffold and see

if he could not do that work too. It then fell upon the brushes and pots

and pencils; and having mimicked the artist's ways, poured all the colours

into one basin, and with a large brush proceeded shortly to cover the

whole canvas with artistic flourishes. On Monday morning the artist, on

returning, was horrified at the result, and at once attributed it to some

envious person, whom he named to the bishop as the suspected culprit. The

bishop was greatly annoyed, but, nevertheless, prevailed on the artist to

return to his work, and he said he would provide six soldiers with drawn

swords to remain concealed and on the watch, to cut down the intruder

without mercy, in case a repetition of the nefarious deed should occur.

The figures were again painted by the artist, and after several days the

soldiers took the alarm on hearing some strange sound of stealthy steps

and movements, and then a figure clambering up to the scaffold and seizing

the brushes. They noticed soon that this figure, after mixing the colours,

painted with unseemly haste all the fine heads of saints which had been so

carefully elaborated by the artist. They then summoned the artist himself

to witness it, whereupon they all were unable to contain themselves for

laughter at the grotesque handiwork of the amateur ape, which was the real

culprit. The artist betook himself at once to the bishop, and said, "My

lord, you desire to have your chapel painted in one fashion, but your ape

chooses to have it done in another fashion." Then he told the story of

what he had seen, and added: "There's no need for your lordship to send to

foreign parts for a painter since you have a master of colour already in

your house. Perhaps he did not at first fully understand how to mix the

colours, but he is now evidently well acquainted with the whole secret,

and can proceed without further help. I am no longer required here since

we have discovered his talents, and I will ask no other reward for my

labours except permission to return home." The bishop made suitable

apologies and begged the artist once more to resume his work, and he would

for its crimes shut up the ape in a strong wooden cage, and have it

fastened on the scaffold, where it might spend its jealousy and rage in

witnessing without having the power of further marring the work. The

artist afterwards went to Pisa and covered the roofs and walls of the

abbey of St. Paul with pictures from Old Testament subjects, which greatly

pleased the people frequenting that place. And many other admirable sacred

works were finished in Florence and other places by the same pencil.

THE PAINTER'S CRITICS AND BAD DEBTS (1342).

The same Buffalmacco was engaged by the town of Perugia to paint their

patron saint Herculanus for their market-place, and the price was agreed

on. The painter erected scaffolds and also enclosed himself with boards,

so as to keep the people from overlooking him in his labours. After ten

days had passed, the people passing used to stop and wonder how long he

was going to take to finish his picture, as they seemed to think such work

could be turned out by the yard from a mould, so that the artist became

worried and pestered with their importunities. The people became day by

day more impatient, until the artist determined he would serve them out.

So after some days' preparation he admitted them to look at the work when

near its completion, and they were greatly pleased, and all they next

wanted was that he would remove the scaffolding entirely. He said this

could not be done for two days longer, as he wished to retouch part of the

picture when thoroughly dried. This was allowed. The artist had originally

intended the saint's head to have a great diadem in relievo of richly gilt

plaster, as was then the custom. He now, remounting his scaffold,

substituted for the original another coronet or garland surrounded with

gudgeons. Next morning he went off to Florence, and when the people had to

take down the scaffold and saw the affront put on them, they proposed to

send horsemen in pursuit; but in the end they had to get another artist to

set the diadem right and erase the silly gudgeons. The same artist was

employed to paint a fresco for a country church at Calcindia, a picture of

the Virgin holding the Infant Christ in her arms. He found the employer

dilatory in payment, so he went and changed the Infant Christ into a bear,

using water-colours only. The employer thereupon was in despair, and

implored him to restore the Holy Child, and if so he would pay at once all

demands. The money being forthcoming, the painter with a wet sponge easily

removed the bear and restored the work.

THE NUNS CRITICISING THEIR ARTIST'S WORKS (1342).

The same great Florentine painter, Buffalmacco, about 1340 was employed by

the nuns of Faenza to paint a sacred historical picture for them, and they

were greatly pleased with every part of the details, except only that they

thought the faces rather too pale and wan. Buonamico, hearing this, and

knowing that the abbess had the very best Vernaccia wine that could be

found in Florence, and which was indeed reserved by them for the use of

the Mass, declared to the nuns that this defect could be remedied only by

mixing the colours with good Vernaccia, and that when the cheeks were

touched with colours thus tempered, they would become rosy and lifelike

enough. The good sisters, who believed all he said, on hearing of this

kept him amply supplied with the very best Vernaccia during all the time

that his labours lasted, and while cheerfully swallowing this nectar he

found on his palette colour enough to give as much rosiness as the ladies

desired. It was related, however, that the painter was once surprised by

the nuns while drinking the wine; but when he heard one of them saying to

another, "See now, he is drinking it himself," he instantly took care

adroitly to throw part of the contents out of his mouth on the picture,

whereby the nuns were fully assured as to their mistake.

BROTHER ARTISTS RIVALLING EACH OTHER (1400).

Filippo Brunelleschi and Donato were both sculptors at Florence about the

year 1400. Donato had completed a crucifix for the church of Santa Croce

in Florence, to be placed beneath the picture of Taddeo Gaddi, which

represented the girl restored to life by St. Francis. Filippo, on being

shown the crucifix, and being asked by his friend what he thought of it,

replied that Donato had placed a clown on the cross, and not a Christ,

whose form was of perfect beauty. Donato testily replied, "Take wood then

and make one yourself." Filippo, who did not allow himself to be

irritated, felt that there was some truth in the retort, and resolved to

set about the making of a crucifix himself, such as he thought ought to

have been produced. He did this secretly, and it was (as may now be seen

in the chapel of Count Bardi) an admirable work. Some time afterwards

Donato was engaged to come and dine with him, and they had bought a lot of

eggs and delicacies, which Donato was carrying homeward in an apron, when

he was told to go forward to the house with these, and his friend would

follow. On entering, Donato's eye caught sight of Filippo's crucifix, of

which he had never heard anything, and was so amazed and ravished with it

that all the eggs and dainties fell at once to the ground, as his eyes

became riveted on beauties such as he himself could never attain to in the

disposition of the legs, body, and arms. He at once confessed it was a

miracle of art. And the two rivals were good friends for ever after.

Filippo was also a skilful and ingenious architect and engineer, and was

recommended to the Pope by Cosmo de Medici as a man of such immense

capacity that he would have confidence enough to turn the world back on

its axis, a compliment which made the Pope stare at Filippo, who was small

and insignificant in appearance. Count Sforza said that if every state had

a man like Filippo, they might all live in peace without the use of arms.

A PAINTER AFFRONTING A FALLEN ANGEL (1408).

The painter Spinello Aretino was in 1408 engaged by the monks of St.

Agnolo, in Arezzo, to paint the wall of their church near the high altar,

and the subject was to be the "Fall of the Angels." In the air appeared

St. Michael in combat with the old serpent of seven heads and ten horns,

while beneath and in the centre of the picture was Lucifer, already

changed into a most hideous and devilish form. So anxious was the artist

to make Lucifer frightful and horrible, that one night in his sleep

Lucifer appeared to him and demanded to know where the painter had ever

seen him look so ugly as that, and why he permitted his pencil to put so

mortifying an affront as this upon him. The artist awoke in such extremity

of horror that he was unable to speak, and he shook and trembled so

violently that his wife thought he was dying. The shock proved to be so

great that he never recovered the effects of it, remaining in a most

desponding mood, and he gradually sank till he died in a very short time

thereafter. It is also related of Lodovico Caracci, that when he had taken

down the scaffold on which he had painted the arch above the altar of

Bologna Cathedral, he noticed the foot of an angel bending before the

Virgin crooked. He wanted to set up the scaffold again, and died of grief

at this mischance.

ANGELICO'S DEVOTION TO SACRED ART (1455).

Fra Giovanni Angelico da Fiesole, usually called Angelico, who died in

1455, was both a painter and a devoted Churchman. Though born to plenty,

and having a strong turn for art, he entered the order of preaching friars

at the age of twenty, and began painting the Virgin and Christ and saints.

Cosmo de Medici saw his merits, and engaged him to paint the Crucifixion

for the church of San Marco at Florence, and he filled the lower ground

with all the saints who were founders of religious bodies. Vasari said his

picture of Gabriel making the Annunciation to the Virgin was considered so

beautiful that the spectator could scarcely believe it to be the work of

man, but that it must have been executed in Paradise. But his masterpiece

was thought to be the coronation of the Virgin, surrounded by angels,

saints, and holy personages. Vasari said the heads and figures were so

varied in expression and attitude that people had infinite pleasure in

looking on them, and all admitted that even the saints themselves in

heaven could not look otherwise than in this picture, and that no other

than the angels themselves could produce such figures of elevated beauty,

dignity, and devotion. The Pope invited him to execute various works at

Rome, and was so charmed with the simplicity and modesty of the artist

that he offered him a high appointment in the Church, as he was a friar

and qualified; but the artist declined it and recommended a poor friend,

to whom this office was kindly given. Angelico, in the estimation of his

contemporaries, lived a life of pure holiness. He laboured continually at

his paintings, but would do nothing that was not connected with things

holy. He despised riches and had no anger in his composition. He used to

say that the only true riches was contentment with little. He said he

sought no dignity, and all he cared for was to escape hell and draw near

to Paradise. He said that he who practised the art of painting should live

without cares or anxious thoughts, and he who would do the work of Christ

should perpetually remain with Christ. His pictures of saints excelled

those of all other artists. He said he never took up his pencil without

first offering a prayer. He never painted a crucifix without tears

streaming from his eyes. Some friendly hand painted his own portrait on

the outside of his tomb in the church of the Minerva at Rome.

BRONZES FOR THE GATES OF PARADISE (GHIBERTI, 1455).

Lorenzo Ghiberti, a famous Florentine sculptor, who excelled in casting

his sculpture in metals, had acquired so great a reputation that the city

authorities gave him a commission about 1439 to decorate the chief door of

San Giovanni with bronzes representing scenes or histories from the Old

Testament. The door when finished met with unbounded praise from all

quarters. When Michael Angelo was asked what he thought of it he said,

"They are so beautiful that they might fittingly stand at the gates of

Paradise!" This artist put his own portrait as well as that of his father

on one part of the decorations of the border of the door. Lorenzo had

shown his genius at the age of twenty, when he won the prize for which the

first artists competed--namely, a bronze representing the sacrifice of

Isaac by his father Abraham. Other bronzes representing separate subjects

followed. For this great work he was liberally paid, and its admirable

execution led to many lucrative commissions of a like kind.

THE OLDEST PAINTERS AND THEIR PERSPECTIVE (UCCELLO, 1472).

The older class of mediæval painters of sacred subjects often showed great

ignorance of perspective. One memorable instance was that of Paolo

Uccello, who died in 1472, and who had acquired great reputation for his

pictures. His last great commission was one to paint St. Thomas searching

for the wound in the side of Christ; and the painting was to be above the

door of the church in the Mercato Veichio in Florence, dedicated to that

saint. Paolo was proud of this commission, and told his friends that he

would lay out all his strength on this picture, and display the fruit of

his experience and insight in its design. His first step was to erect a

close inclosure of planks all round the wall, so as to keep off the prying

and curious. He had been working some time in secret when another artist,

Donato, met him in the street and asked what sort of work this was that he

was so closely engaged upon. Paolo said, with some self-satisfaction, that

Donato would see it in due time. Some time later the same Donato

accidentally passed and saw Paolo Uccello uncovering this masterpiece, and

after a courteous salutation Paolo was eager to know what his brother

artist would say to it. Donato looked very minutely at it, and then said,

"Why, Paolo, you are uncovering your picture just at the time you should

be shutting it up from the public view." These words stabbed the painter

to the heart; for on certain things being pointed out by the critic, he

saw he had made a grievous mistake, and that the public would cover him

with derision instead of applause. This fate he could not face, and from

that time he shut himself up in his house so as to study once more the

laws of perspective. And Vasari says this picture killed him, for the

faults in it weighed on his spirits, which he never recovered. The

painting has disappeared in modern times.

THE MONKS OVER-FEEDING THEIR ARTIST WITH CHEESE (UCCELLO, 1472).

The painter Paolo Uccello was engaged by the monks of San Miniato, near

Florence, to paint the lives of the Holy Fathers in one of their

cloisters. The work was to be partly coloured and principally in terra

verde, and it is said he rather misplaced his colours, making his fields

blue, his cities red, and the buildings all colours. While he was engaged

in this work the abbot gave him scarcely anything to eat but cheese, of

which the painter grew so speedily sick, that, being of a timid nature, he

went off clandestinely and did not return, and he gave no explanation.

The abbot and the monks sent to him, to ask why he did not return; but he

gave no answer, and if he met them in the street he made off as fast as he

could in another direction. At last one of the monks determined to solve

the mystery, waylaid him, got speech of him, and put the same unanswered

question. Paolo replied, "You have so murdered me, that I not only run

away from you, but dare not stop near the shop of a carpenter or even pass

by one. And all this comes of your abbot's mismanagement; for, what with

his cheese pies and his cheese soup, he has made me swallow such a

mountain of cheese that I am all turned into cheese myself, and I tremble

lest the carpenters rush out, seize, and put me into their glue-pot. I am

quite sure that if I had stayed with you longer I should have been no more

Paolo, but mere cheese." When the monk told the other monks this story,

they roared with laughter and begged their abbot to persuade the painter

to return, and then to feed him well on other delicacies.

A CLUMSY CRUCIFIX BEFORE THE DYING ARTIST (GROSSO, 1488).

Nanni Grosso was a sculptor at Florence about 1488. One of his invariable

rules was, that he would never execute any work in a convent unless the

monks left the door of the wine cellar open, so that he could go in and

take a drink when he pleased without asking their leave. When Nanni was on

his deathbed in the hospital of Santa Marina Nuova, the nurses placed a

wooden crucifix before him which was clumsy and ill executed. He implored

them to take it out of his sight and bring him one by Donato, declaring

that if they did not take that one from before him he should die in

despair, so greatly did the sight of ill-executed works of art excite him.

A POOR ARTIST KILLED BY A SIGHT OF GOLD (1513).

Pinturicchio, a painter of Perugia, who had painted and decorated many

churches, but without ever securing great profit to himself, was in his

old days engaged to paint a picture of the Virgin at the convent of San

Francesco, in Siena, and a room was appropriated to his use by the monks

and given up to him entirely. They took away all the furniture so as to

give him space, leaving nothing but a very massive old chest which was too

heavy to be removed. The painter being arbitrary and domineering, soon

made such a clamour about this chest being in his way, and he so worried

the poor monks, that in their desperation they resolved to remove it

rather than be any longer abused. So they dragged it out a little with

immense difficulty, but in straining it one of its sides gave way and a

sum of five hundred golden ducats tumbled out, which seemed so vast a

collection of valuable material to our artist, and he was so transfixed

with horror and remorse as he thought of his inconceivable folly in having

thrown all this fortune, as it were, away, that he took to his bed and

never rallied, dying shortly afterwards of a broken heart.

AN ARTIST DECEIVING THE BIRDS AND BEASTS (MONSIGNORI, 1519).

Francesco Monsignori of Verona had attained the highest reputation as a

painter. In one picture he had to paint a beautiful dog as part of a

group; and one day a friend calling with a living dog, the latter rushed

furiously to the painting to attack the painted dog. In another work of

the same artist, a picture of the Virgin and the Infant Christ, the Divine

Child was represented as visible from the shoulder upwards only, and

having one arm extended in the act of caressing the Virgin mother. One day

Count Ludovico, having heard of this painting and being anxious to see it,

brought his wife and son with him, and the boy had a green bird, called in

Verona a terrazzani, perched on his wrist like a falcon. The moment they

entered the room the bird, seeing the extended arm of the Infant Christ in

the picture, flew towards it, intending to perch upon it. The bird fell to

the ground, but immediately rose again, and tried to perch exactly as if

it were a child on whose wrist such a bird is accustomed thus to sit. The

nobles, amazed at this, were inclined to offer any price for such a

picture, but the artist could not be prevailed upon to part with it. A

pupil of the same painter, named Girolamo, painted a Madonna sitting

underneath a tree, which was put in a church near Verona, and the wild

birds that sometimes found their way inside used often to fly against the

picture, intending to alight on the branches of this tree. And this

circumstance made the picture famous to all the neighbourhood.

FINDING A MODEL FOR A MARTYRED SAINT (MONSIGNORI, 1519).

Francesco Monsignori of Verona had painted many sacred subjects with the

highest success before he was engaged to paint St. Sebastian for the

Church of the Madonna, outside Mantua. The saint was shot to death with

arrows. While the painter was at work on the picture the Marquis of Mantua

called and asked him whether he had got a good model for this difficult

picture. The painter said he had selected a very beautiful person who was

a porter, and who would no doubt allow himself to be tied to the stake and

assume the proper attitudes. "That won't do," said the Marquis; "you will

not be able to represent the proper fear and horror and resistance of the

person who is to be murdered. Just inform me when your model is to sit

again, and I will show you the right thing to do." The following day, when

the painter had fastened the porter to the stake, and had given secret

notice of it to the Marquis, the latter suddenly burst into the room with

a cross-bow and arrows in a state of great excitement, and with a loud

voice he rushed to the porter, exclaiming, "Traitor! you are a dead man! I

have caught you at last, and I will make an end of you," with other

horrible exclamations of rage and revenge. The poor unlucky porter,

believing that his doom was near, made the most desperate efforts to

release himself, and the excitement and agitation of his countenance and

limbs, as he was struggling against his fate, supplied the painter with

the very attitudes and expression he most desired. "Now," said the

Marquis, "he is just in the right position, I will leave you to do the

rest." This timely assistance enabled the painter to make an admirable

picture of the martyrdom of the saint.

A DIVINE ARTIST DISCOVERING ONE STILL MORE DIVINE (FRANCIA, 1520).

Francesco Francia, born in 1450, began as a goldsmith and designer at

Bologna, but felt he could be a painter, and his pictures when he

attempted them soon brought him wealth and fame, for his Madonnas and

Christs and angels and saints were exquisite. When he was at the height of

fame, he had been constantly told of the glories of Raphael, who was then

working at Rome, so that he longed to see some of these much-applauded

masterpieces. It happened that Raphael had been commissioned to execute a

picture of St. Cecilia, which was to be forwarded to Bologna on its way to

the chapel of San Giovanni in Monte. Raphael, on forwarding it, sent a

polite and friendly letter, asking Francia to look after it, and remove

any scratches it might have received, and make any alterations which his

skill might suggest. This pleased Francia, who had the picture at once

taken out of its case and put in a clear light, that he might critically

examine it. He was instantaneously confounded and overwhelmed with the

beauty and masterly execution of the work. He at once felt conscious of

his own foolish presumption in thinking he could improve it. He was struck

dumb with terror, and went about distracted and overweighted with grief

at his own shortcomings. He sent the picture on to its destination, but

its extreme and unparalleled beauty smote him to the heart. He took to his

bed, never recovered his former spirits, and soon died of grief and

vexation to think how far short he had been of such excellence. Such is

the account given by Vasari, but it is thought by some authorities to have

been exaggerated.

LEONARDO DA VINCI'S PICTURE OF THE LAST SUPPER (1520).

When Leonardo da Vinci painted the Last Supper about 1497, one of the

greatest pictures of the world, the subject had been little attempted

before, and he gave the greatest care to the details. He used to remain at

his easel on the scaffold absorbed in thought for whole days, often

forgetful of his meals. One great difficulty was to satisfy himself about

the proper head for his Christ. He used to say that, when he attempted it,

his hand trembled under the excitement of discovering the most appropriate

face and expression. A friend, whom he consulted about the difficulty,

comforted him by saying that, after his heads of James the Great and James

the Less, it was beyond the power of man to give greater divinity and

beauty to any human figures, and therefore he should leave the head of

Christ imperfect. He never could satisfy himself about leaving out or

finishing this cardinal point. At last he accepted a good deal of the form

which the Byzantine painters had previously adopted, though he also

improved upon it. Leonardo is said to have spent an inordinate time over

this picture, and the prior of the monastery at Florence for whom it was

painted in fresco could never understand why the painter seemed for so

many days and weeks to be brooding and contemplating, and criticising,

undoing, and altering, without finishing his work. The prior thought that,

like the day-labourers, the great painter ought to have the brush

constantly in his hand, spreading his colours and making visible progress

in covering the wall. And he grievously complained again and again, not

only to the painter himself, but to the duke, of all this delay; and the

worry and importunity of this prior vexed and annoyed the painter, who,

when alluding to it, explained to the duke how artists are sometimes

producing most when they seem to be labouring least, their minds being

elaborating the conceptions which it is so difficult to realise. He also

informed the duke that there were still wanting to him two heads, one of

which, that of the Saviour, he could not hope to find on earth, and had

not yet attained the power of presenting to himself even in imagination,

with all that perfection of beauty and celestial grace which appeared to

him to be demanded. The second head still wanting was that of Judas

Iscariot, which also caused him some anxiety, since he did not think it

possible to imagine fitting features for a man who, after so many benefits

received from his Master, had possessed a heart so depraved as to be

capable of betraying that Master, the Lord and Creator of the world. With

regard to the second, however, he said he would still pursue his search,

and after all, if the worst came to the worst, and if he could find no

better, then he would never be at any great loss so long as he had that

troublesome and impertinent prior's face before him. The duke laughed

heartily, and the poor prior when informed was so utterly confounded at

the appalling destiny awaiting him that he kept his peace for ever after.

This magnificent masterpiece of the Last Supper unfortunately rapidly

deteriorated in its colouring, owing to its being painted in oils instead

of fresco; and it has often since been retouched and repaired, till it is

doubtful how much of the original now remains, except the composition,

design, and grouping, which make the picture imperishable. The refectory

of the convent in which the picture was painted in fresco was more than

once inundated with water, and ill usage did the rest. In 1796, when

Napoleon's troops entered Italy, they turned the refectory into a stable,

and the men even amused themselves with throwing bricks at the painted

heads of the Apostles. Fortunately the original work in its beauty was

well copied in 1510, and this copy, after changing hands, came into the

possession of the Royal Academy in London, who now possess it. Other

copies were painted by the same artist about the same time. This picture

is the best known and most famous in Christian art. We find it alike in

rich men's palaces and poor men's cottages, in splendid mosaic and in

coarse woodcut, on altarpieces and in all kinds of collections. On

Christ's right hand are in their order John, Judas, Peter, Andrew, James

the Less, and Bartholomew. On Christ's left hand in their order are James

the Great (who sits next to Christ), Thomas, Philip, Matthew, Thaddeus,

and Simon. Leonardo's other sacred pieces, his Virgins and Holy Families,

are all of exquisite beauty. A noble statue was erected to the memory of

this great painter at Milan in 1872. The painter had a peculiarity of

writing his chief documents backwards from right to left, so that they

required to be read by the aid of a looking-glass. He is supposed to have

done this to prevent the curious too easily acquiring knowledge of his

studies for pictures.

RAPHAEL'S PICTURE OF THE PROCESSION TO CALVARY (1520).

Raphael painted his famous picture of the Procession to Calvary, called

"Lo Spasimo di Sicilia," for a Sicilian church at Palermo. In 1217, on its

being finished, it was packed and taken on board a ship at Ostia bound for

Palermo. A storm arose, the vessel foundered at sea, and all was lost

except the package containing this picture, which was floated by the

currents into the Bay of Genoa, and on being landed the wondrous

masterpiece of art was taken out unhurt. The Genoese at first refused to

give it up, insisting that it had been preserved and floated to their

shores by the miraculous interposition of the Blessed Virgin herself, and

it required a positive mandate from the Pope to represent it as a work

done by contract.

THE DIVINE RAPHAEL'S MADONNA DI SAN SISTO.

The Benedictines of St. Sixtus at Placentia asked Raphael to paint the

Madonna with the Child, St. Sixtus and St. Barbara. It was the last

Madonna he painted; and, as if he had foreseen his approaching end, he

made the picture one of surpassing beauty. In the midst of an immense and

profound glory filled with cherubim heads, says Passavant, the Virgin is

standing holding in her arms the Infant Jesus. Her feet scarcely touch the

cloud which bears her; she stands out from the mystery of the heavens, and

appears in her sweet and majestic grandeur. Beneath her St. Sixtus on the

left and St. Barbara on the right are kneeling in adoration. Two little

angels of celestial beauty lean on a cornice at the bottom, with a

charming look of intelligence. The features of the Virgin, whose

triumphant majesty is unequalled, wear an expression of nobleness,

innocence, sweetness, and modesty; her Son, whose attitude is simple and

childlike, bears in His whole countenance a Divine character, and His

penetrating glance goes straight to the heart. It is no longer the

graceful, smiling Child of the other Madonnas, but the Son of God, the

Saviour of the world, who at the last day will become the Sovereign Judge.

Wonderful power of art! In that little head, so calm, so sweet, and yet so

severe, reside both the flame of the purest poetry and all the depth of

Christian faith. The Madonna di San Sisto is indeed rendered Divine by the

genius of the most ideal artist that God has ever created; and it is the

work that contributed most to procure Raphael the surname of "the Divine."

Even in its technical part it does not resemble any of the other works of

Raphael; although its execution is of extreme simplicity, it has none of

that art which is only formed for delighting the eye. All in it is seen by

the light of enthusiasm, and but for the little angels at the bottom

painted as an after-thought on the clouds, we should scarcely see a trace

of human hands in the picture. The picture is now in Dresden, and has

excited admiration and the greatest veneration for three centuries.

RAPHAEL'S CARTOONS.

Raphael was commissioned by the Pope to paint cartoons for certain pieces

of tapestry to be made in Flanders. The artist was fired with a desire to

rival Michael Angelo's, and he looked forward to these compositions being

copied in fabrics of wool or silk and gold, which might be hung up before

the wainscoting on high festivals, according to the customs of the

Byzantines and Romans. The ten pieces of tapestry were afterwards made

with great magnificence and perfection, and arrived from Flanders at Rome

in 1519, only a few months before Raphael's death, and hung up in St.

Peter's. He had the satisfaction of seeing this work crowned with complete

success. Vasari says that these tapestries seem rather to have been

performed by miracle than by the aid of man. The choice of subjects was

prescribed to Raphael. The cartoons were sent to Arras and copied in

tapestry. After being hung up in the Sistine chapel, the tapestries were

pillaged by the troops of Charles V. in 1527, and carried off as spoils of

war, and were sold at Lyons. In 1555 they were restored to the Pope. They

were again stolen in the Revolution of 1789, and passed into the hands of

the Jews, who at one time thought of burning them for the sake of the gold

worked up in the fabric. In 1808, however, the Pope again possessed them,

and they are now in the Vatican. As to the cartoons from which the

tapestries were copied, these lay neglected in the manufactory at Arras

till 1630. Rubens, having seen them there, described them to Charles I.,

who bought them for Whitehall Palace. At his death they were sold by

auction, and Cromwell bought them for £300 for the nation. Charles II. was

once on the point of selling them, but was persuaded not to do so. The

cartoons were all riddled with needle prickings, and intersected by narrow

bands, but William III. had them cleaned and put up at Hampton Court

Palace. They are now kept at South Kensington Museum. They are drawn with

chalk and coloured in distemper.

A DIVINE MASTER'S LAST MASTERPIECE.

Vasari, a contemporary and biographer of Raphael, says that the painter

worked indefatigably at his picture of the Transfiguration of the Saviour

which was destined for France. The Saviour is depicted on Mount Tabor,

with eleven disciples awaiting Him at the foot. Meanwhile, a youth

possessed of a spirit is brought to be healed, and he is shown writhing

with contortions caused by the malignant spirit. An old man, with a face

of apprehension and open eyes, watches the Apostles, as if anxious to know

if there was hope. One woman, a principal figure, kneeling and pointing to

these two, shows their misery. The Apostles look on full of compassion. In

this work the master has produced figures and heads of unrivalled beauty,

which has stamped him as the most excellent and Divine of all artists.

Whoever shall desire to see in what manner Christ, transformed into the

Godhead, should be represented, let him go and behold it in this picture.

The Saviour is shown floating over the mount in clear air; the figure,

foreshortened, is between those of Moses and Elias, who, illumined by His

radiance, awaken into life beneath the splendour of the light. Prostrate

on the earth are Peter, James, and John, in attitudes of great and varied

beauty: one has his head bent entirely to the ground; another defends

himself with his hands from the brightness of that immense light which

proceeds from the splendour of Christ, who is clothed in vestments of

snowy whiteness, His arms thrown open and the head raised towards heaven,

while the essence and Godhead of all the three persons united in Himself

are made apparent in their utmost perfection by the Divine art of Raphael.

But as if that sublime genius had gathered all the force of his powers

into one effort, whereby the glory and the majesty of art should be made

manifest in the countenance of Christ, having completed that as one who

had finished the great work which he had to accomplish, he touched the

pencils no more, being shortly afterwards overtaken with death from a

fever in 1520, at the age of thirty-seven.

RAPHAEL'S PICTURE OF ST. CECILIA.

A noble lady in 1513 built a chapel near Bologna to St. Cecilia, and

Raphael was asked to paint an altarpiece. Passavant thus describes the

work: "It was in one of his inspired moments that the master composed this

exquisite painting. Everything in it speaks of faith and zeal. All the

noble countenances bear the Divine stamp, and yet whatever may be the

exultation of their souls, their attitudes are full of the calmest

majesty. St. Paul leaning on a naked sword represents knowledge and

wisdom, whilst on the other side St. John shows the full blessing of

Divine love. Mary Magdalene, holding a vase of perfumes, is opposite to

St. Paul, as if to indicate that, if the repentance of the apostle and his

unwearied activity in the Church obtained forgiveness for him for his

former sins, she also had been forgiven much because she had loved much.

And as St. Paul, converted through a vision, is by the side of the living

St. John, so St. Augustine, also converted to the faith of Christ, is by

the side of the Magdalene. Surrounded by these great and touching figures

St. Cecilia is standing, radiant with ecstasy, listening to the Divine

harmonies sung by the angels in heaven. The earthly organ falls from her

hands, she trembles with holy enthusiasm, and her soul seems longing to

fly away to the heavenly country. The beauty of the style and the depth of

expression are not the only things that render this a masterpiece, but the

combination of these with harmony, richness, and powerful colouring. The

colouring responds to the poetry of the subject; it carries us into an

ethereal and mysterious atmosphere. No colourist has ever equalled this

splendour, which we call almost Divine. Titian's 'Assumption' excites

feelings of joyfulness, Correggio's 'St. Jerome' a gentle emotion, but

Raphael's 'St. Cecilia' brings us nearer to heaven." It was this picture

that killed Francia with mortification and self-humiliation. All Bologna

was enthusiastic at the sight of so Divine a work. The picture still

remains at Bologna.

THE INQUISITION ON SACRED ART (1522).

In 1522 Torrigiano, a Florentine sculptor, the same who, when a student

and rival, had an altercation with Michael Angelo and broke his nose,

received an order from a Spanish grandee, the Duke of Arcos, to carve a

Madonna and Child of the natural size, for which he was told he would be

well paid. The artist thereupon put forth all his skill, which was

admitted to be great, and completed a matchless sculpture, which the

purchaser was delighted with, and sent two servants carrying large bags of

money wherewith to pay the sculptor and fetch away the gem. The latter,

well pleased at the liberal payment, was equally delighted in turn; but on

opening the bags, to his intense disgust he found that they were full of

copper farthings, which amounted only to a beggarly total of thirty ducats

(£13). Enraged at this meanness, he snatched a mallet, and regardless of

the sacred character of the image, he followed to the spot where the

sculpture stood, and with one blow he shivered it to atoms, and then told

the lacqueys to take back their load of farthings to their master. This

sacrilegious act the enraged grandee represented at once to the Holy

Inquisition, before which tribunal the irascible artist was cited for

heresy. He urged that he was entitled, as an author, to do what he liked

with his own creation. But not so thought the demon judges, who with

little hesitation decreed death with torture. The culprit died in prison

before the day of sentence arrived, whether from excitement or refusing

his food was never ascertained.

PAINTING THE LUMINOUS FACE OF CHRIST (CORREGGIO, 1534).

Vasari says that there was in his time (1540), in the city of Reggio (and

now it is a gem in the gallery at Dresden), a picture by Correggio of the

"Birth of Christ." In this work the light proceeding from the presence of

the Divine Child throws its splendour on the shepherds, and around all the

figures who are contemplating the Infant. Many other beautiful effects are

made manifest by the artist in this picture. Among others is one expressed

by the figure of a woman, who, desiring to look fixedly at the Saviour, is

not able with her mortal sight to endure the glory of His Divinity, which

appears to cast its rays full on the figure. She is therefore shading her

eyes with her hand. All this is admirably and wonderfully expressed. Over

the cabin where the Divine Child is laid there hovers a choir of angels

singing, and so exquisitely painted that they seem to have come direct

from heaven, rather than from the hand of the painter. In the same city

(now in the Palace at Madrid) there was a small picture, also by

Correggio, not more than a foot high, and one of the most extraordinary

and beautiful of all his works. The figures are small, the subject "Christ

in the Garden," the time night; and the angel appearing to the Saviour

illumines His person with the splendour of his coming, an effect

unapproachable for beauty. (Other critics say the disposition of the light

in this picture is poetical and Divine.) On a plain at the foot of the

mountain are seen the three apostles lying asleep. The shadow of the

eminence on which the Saviour is in prayer falls over those figures,

imparting to them a degree of force not to be described in words. In the

farther distance is a tract of country over which the day is just

breaking, and from one side approaches Judas with soldiers. Vasari says

that for beauty, depth of thought, and execution no work can equal this.

It is said that Correggio gave this gem to pay an apothecary's bill of

thirty shillings then due.

THE MONKS ASSISTING ARTISTS WITH THEIR PRAYERS (1560).

Queen Isabella of the Peace, about 1560, in order to please the

Franciscans, to which order her confessor belonged, ordered a statue of

the Virgin to be executed for a gift to them, and the best sculptor in

Spain was to receive the commission. Becerra was chosen; but after a

year's work the Queen was not pleased, and the image was rejected. The

next attempt was better, and it pleased the friars, who said it was worthy

of Michael Angelo; but the Queen again rejected it. The Franciscans

thereupon betook themselves to redoubled Masses and fasting, and the poor

artist racked his memory and imagination for ideas of angelic grace and

Divine beauty. Sitting one night in his studio, after much anxious

thought, he fell into a slumber, and was aroused by an unknown voice

saying to him, "Awake and arise, and out of that log of wood blazing on

the hearth shape the thought within thee, and thou shalt obtain the

desired image." He immediately arose, plucked the log from the fire and

fell to work upon it, and it proved to be an excellent piece of timber,

and in time it grew under his hands into a miracle of art, and became the

portentous image of Our Lady of Solitude, which is to this day had in

reverence, and in which are expressed beauty, grief, love, tenderness,

constancy, and resignation. The Queen at last acknowledged the carving was

to her mind. The Virgin was dressed in sable garb and placed in the

convent of the Minim Fathers at Madrid, and became renowned for her

miraculous powers. Another artist, named Joannes, was engaged by the

friars to paint the Virgin, and his first sketches were unsuccessful; but

he and his employers betook themselves to religious exercises, and many

holy men joined them in their prayers. Every day the artist confessed and

communicated before commencing his labours. At last his piety and

perseverance overcame all difficulties. It was acknowledged to be of great

excellence, and amongst the friars it was soon famous for its miraculous

powers.

MICHAEL ANGELO, PAINTER AND SCULPTOR (1564).

Michael Angelo, who was equally celebrated as a painter and sculptor of

the first class, as well as architect, was born in 1475. His Madonnas and

Holy Families and Christs are all admirable. In 1507 he began frescoes,

and afterwards paintings for the Sistine Chapel and Pauline Chapel at

Rome. In 1547 he was appointed architect to St. Peter's at Rome, and at

his death in 1564 was succeeded in the latter office by Raphael. Michael

Angelo was a man of spare figure and extraordinary activity. When he was

at work he was satisfied with a scrap of bread and a drop of wine, which

he took without breaking off the business in hand. He lived in this frugal

way up to the time when he began his last pictures in the Sistine Chapel

at Rome. He was then old, and allowed himself only a simple meal at the

end of the day. He used sometimes to remain for whole months absorbed in

meditation, without touching a brush or chisel; then, when he had

elaborated his composition, he set to work as if inspired by a fury.

Vasari says his imagination was so lofty that his hands could not express

his sublime thoughts. Generally he used to put an idea hurriedly on paper,

then take up each detail, and finish it as he proceeded. He would

sometimes draw the same head ten or twelve times over before he was

satisfied with it. He took very little sleep, and used often to get up in

the night to work out a sudden fancy. He used to wear a sort of cardboard

helmet, which he contrived so as to hold a light, and thus the part on

which he worked was illumined without his hands being encumbered. He had a

round head, high temples, a broad, square forehead, with seven lines

straight across it, and a nose disfigured by a blow from the fist of

Torrigiano, who, being jealous of him as a student, picked a quarrel with

him, and thereby left this mark.

THE GREAT SCULPTOR'S MASTERPIECES (MICHAEL ANGELO, 1564).

Vasari, a contemporary of Michael Angelo, says of his Pieta, a marble

figure of the Virgin (now in the chapel of Santa Maria della Febbre at

Rome), that no sculptor, however distinguished an artist, could add a

single grace or improve it by whatever pains he might take, whether in

elegance and delicacy, or force, or careful execution, nor could any

surpass the art which the sculptor has here exhibited. In like manner the

marble figure of his dead Christ exhibits the very perfection of faithful

execution in every muscle, vein, and nerve. There was besides a most

exquisite expression in the countenance, and the limbs and veins and

pulses are admirably arranged. The love and care which the sculptor had

given to this group were such that he there left his name--a thing he

never did again for any work--on the cincture which girdles the robe of

Our Lady. The reason of this was, that one day he entered the chapel and

heard a group of strangers praising it highly, and when one asked the

other who was the artist, it was attributed at once to a person called the

Hunchback of Milan. The real artist remained silent, but one night soon

after he repaired to the chapel with a light and chisel, and engraved his

name on the figure of the Madonna, whose "beauty and goodness, piety and

grief, dead in the living marble," are so well spoken of by the poet. This

work brought Michael Angelo great fame. Certain stupid people did indeed

affirm at the time that he has made Our Lady too young, but that is

because they fail to perceive the fact that unspotted maidens long

preserve the youthfulness of their aspect, while persons afflicted, as

Christ was, do the contrary. The youth of the Madonna therefore did but

add to the credit of the master.

SATISFYING A CRITIC OF THE FAULTLESS (MICHAEL ANGELO, 1564).

Vasari, the biographer and pupil, says that when Michael Angelo had set up

his colossal marble statue of David, it chanced that Soderini, whom it

greatly pleased, came to look at it while the artist was giving a few last

touches, and told him that he thought the nose too short. Michael Angelo

perceived that Soderini was in such a position beneath the figure that he

could not see it conveniently, yet to satisfy him he mounted the scaffold

with his chisel and a little powder which he had picked up from the floor.

He then struck the nose a few times very gently, but without altering

anything, and took care to let some of the powder fall down at the same

time, and told the critic to look at it now. "I like it better now,"

replied Soderini; "you have given it life." The sculptor then came down,

not without compassion for that class of people who desire to appear good

judges of what they do not understand. Vasari says he may truly affirm

that this surpasses all others, whether ancient or modern, Greek or Latin;

neither the Marforio at Rome, the Tiber and the Nile in the Belvedere, nor

the giants of Monte Cavallo can be compared to such a model of beauty and

excellence. The outline of the lower limbs is most exquisite. The

connection of each limb with the body is faultless, and the spirit of the

whole form is divine. Never since has there been produced so fine an

attitude, so perfect a grace, such beauty of head, feet, and hands; every

part is replete with excellence; nor is so much harmony and admirable art

to be found in any other work. He that has seen this, therefore, need not

care to see any production else, whether of that age or of any preceding

it.

MICHAEL ANGELO'S LAST JUDGMENT (1564).

Michael Angelo when commissioned by the Pope to finish the paintings of

the Sistine Chapel executed two vast frescoes for the ends of the chapel,

one on "The Last Judgment," and the other "The Fall of the Angels." "The

Last Judgment" was begun in 1533, but was not finished till 1541. Though

containing some groups powerfully painted, there were many adverse critics

as to the general style and some of the details of this performance. The

Pope's master of the ceremonies, Biagio, was very severe in his comments,

and when asked by the Pope what he thought of this painting, the former

replied that he thought it was a shameless exhibition of naked figures,

more fit for a bathing-house or a beershop than a church. Michael Angelo

heard of this criticism, and one day when alone he put in a likeness of

the unfortunate master of ceremonies among the damned under a

representation of Minos. The resemblance was so striking that all Rome

went to see it. Biagio being furious went and complained to the Pope, who

asked where Michael Angelo had put him in the picture. "In hell," he

replied. "Alas!" rejoined Pope Paul, with a smile, "if he had only put you

in purgatory, I could have got you out; but as you are in hell, I can do

nothing for you. My power does not reach so far as that."

VARGAS'S DEVOTION TO SACRED ART (1568).

Vargas of Seville painted for the cathedral in 1555 a picture of the

Nativity, which still forms the altarpiece of the little chapel dedicated

to that event. The Virgin Mother might have been sketched by the pure

pencil of Raphael. The peasant who kneels at her feet with his offering of

a basket of doves is a study from Nature, painted with much of the force

and freedom of the later masters of Seville; and many of the accessories,

such as the head of the goat dragged in by the shepherd and the sheaf of

corn and pack-saddle, are finished with Flemish accuracy. He also painted

"Christ going to Calvary," and many saints and martyrs and female heads of

much purity and grace. Vargas died in 1568, having been distinguished for

his modesty, kindness, and devotion to religion. After his death there

were found in his chamber the scourges with which he practised

self-flagellation, and a coffin wherein he was wont to lie down in the

hours of solitude and repose and consider his latter end. He had much wit

and humour; and once, when asked by a brother painter his opinion of a

very badly painted Saviour on the cross, Vargas said, "Methinks He is

saying, 'Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do.'"

TITIAN'S HEAD OF CHRIST (1576).

Titian painted his great picture of "The Tribute Money," now in the

Dresden Gallery, in answer to a taunt that Venetian art had no finish.

This picture has commanded the admiration of four centuries for the

Godlike beauty and calm majesty of Christ's countenance. His lips seem to

be parting with the question, "Whose is this image and superscription?"

while the fingers point gracefully to the coin in the rough hand of his

cunning tempter, whose face shows the low self-satisfaction with which he

thinks he has outwitted the Master. Vasari says this head of Christ is

"stupendous and miraculous"; its conscious sublimity of expressive

attitude and movement are well set off by the sharp and cunning profile of

the rough and weather-beaten questioner, who is so keen to foil a higher

nature. This is thought to be the most perfect picture from the hand of

Titian. He painted another great picture in his old age of "Christ at

Emmaus," gorgeous in colour and masterly in its attitudes and expression.

TITIAN'S PAINTING OF THE TRIBUTE MONEY (1576).

Scanelli tells the condition under which this renowned picture by Titian

was produced. Titian was visited on a certain occasion by a company of

German travellers, who were allowed to look at the pictures in his studio.

On being asked what impression these works conveyed, these gentlemen

declared that they knew of one master only who was capable of finishing as

they thought paintings ought to be finished, and that was Durer. Their

impression was, that Venetian compositions invariably fell below the

promise which they had given at the first. To these observations Titian

smilingly replied that, if he had thought extreme finish to be the end and

aim of art, he too would have fallen into the excesses of Durer. But

though long experience had taught him to prefer a broad and even track to

a narrow and intricate path, yet he would still take occasion to show that

the subtlest detail might be compassed without sacrifice of breadth, and

so produced the Christ of the tribute money. All the artists of his time

thought this the most perfect work of Titian. The contrast is sublime

between the majestic calm and elevation, the Godlike beauty, of Christ and

the low cunning and crafty, coarse air of the Pharisee who questions Him.

The marble smoothness and fair complexion of Christ's skin is contrasted

with the rough, tanned, and weather-beaten skin of the other.

A DIFFIDENT ARTIST OF SACRED PICTURES REASSURED (ADRIANO, 1630).

At Cordova, in Spain, Adriano, a lay brother of the barefooted Carmelites,

and who died in 1630, excelled in sacred art, and executed a great

picture of the Crucifixion in which the Virgin and Mary Magdalene were

leading figures; and this work is preserved in the convent there. This

artist was so diffident of himself that he used to deface or destroy his

pictures as soon as he had executed them. And so uniform was this practice

with him that his friends took occasion to intercede with him for the

preservation of his many valuable productions in the name of the souls in

purgatory, knowing his attachment to the holy offices in their behalf. By

this mode of exorcism the destroying spirit, which his

self-dissatisfaction and fastidiousness conjured up, was happily kept in

check; and the above and other valuable pictures were, thanks to the souls

in purgatory, saved and preserved for the consolation of the living.

RUBENS'S GREAT PICTURES (1577-1640).

The cathedral of Notre Dame at Antwerp contains the masterpiece of Rubens,

"The Descent from the Cross," hung in the south transept. The picture is

now somewhat misty and has been retouched in some places. The greatest

peculiarity is the white sheet on which the body of Jesus lies, and which

enhances the colouring. The Christ is said to be one of the finest figures

ever invented, and the hanging of the head is exquisitely rendered. Two of

the three Marys have more beauty than Rubens usually gives to female

figures. The principal light comes from the white sheet. It was said that

this picture was given in exchange for a piece of ground on which Rubens

built his house; the original agreement was for one picture of St.

Christopher, but Rubens gave them five, including that subject. Another

picture of Rubens's in the north transept is "The Elevation of the Cross,"

which is full of life and interesting attitudes, and the horses are

spirited. A third picture is the "Assumption of the Virgin," which was

painted in sixteen days. A fourth picture is the "Resurrection of the

Saviour," where Christ is represented coming out of the tomb in great

splendour, the soldiers terrified and falling over each other in their

confusion. In the museum at Antwerp is "The Crucifixion of Christ between

the two Thieves," by Rubens, where the figures are drawn and grouped with

consummate art. The Magdalene is a leading character, and the good

centurion is also represented. This is one of the first pictures of the

world for composition, colouring, and correctness of drawing. Other sacred

pictures of Rubens are to be seen in this collection.

THE MONKS GETTING A BARGAIN OF A PICTURE (TRISTAN, 1469).

The monks of La Sislo, near Toledo in Spain, were anxious to have a

picture of the Last Supper painted for their refectory, like that painted

by Titian for the monastery of Lorenzo, and applied to Dominico to execute

the work. Dominico, on the ground of indisposition, declined it, but

recommended his pupil Luis Tristan, who was accepted. The picture was

finished, and the monks were highly pleased with it, but they thought the

artist's demand of two hundred ducats (£90) exorbitant. In their

perplexity they referred to Dominico, who, though ill of the gout, drove

to see the picture and assess its value. He looked at it, and then,

turning with a threatening and angry countenance to his pupil, told him he

had utterly disgraced himself and his profession by asking such a sum as

two hundred ducats for such a picture as that. The monks were delighted

and triumphant at this deliverance. Dominico, still looking fiercely, told

his pupil at once to roll up his picture and take it away to Toledo, for

he was certain to get five hundred ducats for it, and he then began to

state reasons, and spoke in raptures of it as a masterly performance. At

this turn of affairs the monks looked at each other with astonishment and

vexation; and after a slight pause said, that upon the whole they thought

they would keep to their bargain, and they then and there found the money

and paid the sum agreed. Since then the Fathers had good reason to be well

pleased; for all the critics of Europe, on seeing it, offered them far

more than the price if they would part with it. Tristan died at Toledo in

1469.

VELASQUEZ'S "CRUCIFIXION" (1660)

In 1639 Velasquez produced one of his noblest pictures, "The Crucifixion,"

painted for the nunnery of San Placido at Madrid. Unrelieved by the usual

dim landscape or lowering clouds, the cross in this picture has no footing

upon earth, but is placed on a plain, dark ground, like an ivory carving

on a velvet pall. Never was that great agony more powerfully depicted. The

head of our Lord droops on His right shoulder, over which falls a mass of

dark hair, while drops of blood trickle from His thorn-pierced brows. The

anatomy of the body and limbs is executed with as much precision as in

Cellini's marble, and the linen cloth wrapped about the body, and even the

firwood of the cross, display his accurate attention to details. Our

Lord's feet are held each by a separate nail; at the foot of the cross

are the usual skull and bones, and a serpent twines itself round the

accursed tree. The sisterhood of San Placido placed this picture in their

sacristy in a badly lighted cell, where it remained until the French came

to Madrid and sold it in Paris, whence it was redeemed at a large price,

and presented to the Royal Gallery of Spain.

HOW THE MONKS GOT THEIR FINE PICTURES (1671).

At the beatification of St. Benozzi in 1671, the monks of the order of

Servi were anxious to have their church of the Annunziata at Florence

suitably decorated. The sacristan of the convent wished to get the work

done well and cheaply, and stimulated the vanity of rival artists by

representing how their works would have the advantage of being exhibited

in a church where such numbers of the devout constantly attended. He would

not hold out the hope of large pay, but he promised abundance of prayers;

and, above all, he dwelt on the favour which their performances would no

doubt obtain from the Blessed Virgin herself, to whose especial honour

they were to be consecrated. Andrea del Sarto yielded to these

representations, and put forth all his strength. He painted on one side of

the cortile two scenes from the life of the Madonna--"The Birth of the

Virgin" and "The Adoration of the Magi"; and on the other side scenes from

the life of San Filippo Benozzi. Every figure in those sublime groups is

now familiar to the lovers of art. Other masterpieces were added by Andrea

to that glorious church.

THE DIVINE MURILLO (1682).

Murillo, the Spanish painter, according to Sir D. Wilkie, adapted the

higher subjects of art to the commonest understanding, and seems of all

the painters the universal favourite. His paintings of "St. Elizabeth" and

"The Healing of the Paralytic" are rich in colour and of singular beauty.

He himself thought "The Charity of St. Thomas" was his best picture. His

picture of "The Virgin of the Napkin," though executed hastily, as a

present to a cook who begged some memorial of him, shows a face in which

thought is happily blended with maidenly innocence, and the Divine Child,

with His deep, earnest eyes, leans forward in her arms, struggling, as it

were, almost out of the frame, as if to welcome the saintly carpenter home

from his daily toil. The picture is executed with a brilliancy of touch

never excelled; it glows with a golden light, as if the sun were also

shining on the canvas. Another picture, "The Guardian Angel," shows the

chief figure in a rich yellow robe and purple mantle, pointing as he goes

with the right hand to heaven, and with the other leading a lovely

child--the emblem of the soul passing through the pilgrimage of this

world. Never was an allegory more sweetly told than in this picture, which

is painted with great lightness of touch, and the transparent texture of

the child's garment is finely rendered. In his pictures of the Virgin

Murillo's celestial attendants are among the loveliest cherubs that ever

bloomed on canvas. Hovering in the sunny air, reposing on clouds, or

sporting amongst their silvery folds, these ministering shapes give life

and movement to the picture, and relieve the Virgin's statue-like repose.

Some of them bear the large white lilies, others roses, sprays of olive

and palm boughs, like those which are still annually blessed in churches,

and hung as charms on balconies and portals. As a painter of children

Murillo has caught with matchless insight all the nameless ways and graces

of the bright-eyed Andalusian boys and girls he loved to depict.

CANO'S PICTURE OF THE VIRGIN (1690).

The most beautiful of Cano's pictures is that of "Our Lady of Belem," or

Bethlehem, painted at Malaga for the cathedral of Seville. In serene

celestial beauty this Madonna is excelled by no image of the Blessed Mary

to be found in Spain. Her glorious countenance lends credit to the legends

of the older art, and is such as might have been revealed in answer to the

prayers of the saintly Vargas or of Joanes. The drapery is a crimson robe,

with a dark blue mantle drawn over the head. The head of the Divine Child

is perhaps not childlike; but there is much infantine simplicity and grace

in the attitude, as He sits with His tiny hand resting on that of His

mother. These hands are as usual admirably painted; and the whole picture

is finished with exceeding care, as if the painter had determined to crown

his labours and honour Seville with a masterpiece. Cano was the artist who

was once engaged to model a statue of St. Antony for an accountant, and

after it was finished and the price spoken of was deemed large, the

accountant asked how many days' labour it had cost. The answer being that

it took twenty-five days, the patron at once rather indignantly observed,

that at the rate charged it would be four doubloons a day--a most

extravagant sum. To this Cano rejoined, "Yes, and I have been fifty years

learning to make such a statue as that in twenty-five days."

A PAINTER INCAUTIOUSLY WATCHING EFFECTS (1734).

When Sir James Thornhill was painting the cupola of St. Paul's and

adorning it, as he supposed, with masterpieces of sacred art, he was, like

all great painters, absorbed in thought, and was frequently changing and

improving his details. One day, when mounted on his lofty scaffold, he

moved backwards step by step to view the effect of some of his touches,

and had reached the very edge apparently without knowing his danger, for a

fall there would have been instant destruction. The artist's servant,

having observed the danger, with great presence of mind instantly threw

the contents of a pot of paint over his master. This happy thought had the

effect of recalling the absent-minded artist to real life, for he

immediately rushed forward to resent the outrage. On the attendant's

object, however, being explained, his wrath was with equal suddenness

changed into lively gratitude.

ORIGIN OF CHURCH BELLS.

The Romans used bells in their baths. The Hebrew high priests also wore

small bells. When Porsena, King of Etruria, was buried, and a magnificent

monument with pyramids at each end was erected, small bells were suspended

so delicately that the least breath of wind would sound them. Pope

Sabinianus, about 604, in imitation of the bells of Porsena's tomb,

introduced the same in the charnel-houses, for the sound of bells was then

supposed to frighten away evil spirits. Hence the bells came to be sounded

at funerals, and passing bells have since been common. The goddess of

Syria was anciently worshipped with the sound of bells, from which custom

it is supposed the Christian Churches took the hint of hanging them in

their steeples. The use of bells, however, was not coeval with the Church,

for it was a considerable time before the Christians dare openly avow

their profession or could venture on the publicity of such a mode of

summoning their worshippers. Turkey and Greece are the only countries

where the use of large bells has almost been abolished. Greece in this

particular has degenerated, and Turkey has at length opposed their

reception. The Dutch long excelled in the construction and management of

their bells. The large bells of the Netherlands are so well tuned and

hung, that any slow melody may be performed upon them with the greatest

facility and as perfectly as on a church organ. The church bells were

formerly regularly baptised, anointed, exorcised, and blessed by the

bishop. The priest sprinkled the bell with holy water, while all the

gossips laid hold of the rope, bestowing a name on it.

SANCTITY OF BELLS.

In Spain all the church bells are marked with a crucifix; the devil, it is

believed, cannot come within hearing of the consecrated peal. On the

hearing of the Ave Maria bell, the Spaniards who happen to be in the

theatre, and even the actors on the stage, fall down on their knees, and

then rise again and carry on their diversion as before. A French gentleman

who happened to be present on one of those occasions was so surprised and

diverted that he somewhat irreverently called out, "Encore! encore!" The

religious of Rome had great contests about ringing the Ave Maria bell. At

length it was adjudged that "they who were first up should first knoll."

CHIMES ON CHURCH BELLS.

Chimes or carillons were invented in the Low Countries, and were brought

to the greatest perfection there. They are of two kinds: one is attached

to a cylinder like the back of an organ, which always repeats the same

tunes, and is moved by machinery; the other is of a superior kind, played

by a musician with a set of keys. In all the great towns there are

amateurs or a salaried professor, usually the organist of a church, who

performs with great skill upon this gigantic instrument placed high in the

church steeple. So fond are the Dutch and Belgians of this kind of music,

that in some places the chimes appear scarcely to be at rest for ten

minutes either by day or night. The tunes are usually changed once a year.

Chimes were in existence at Bruges in 1300. The most eminent performer was

Matthias van der Gheyn, who died in 1785. The finest chimes are at

Antwerp, composed of sixty-five bells; Mechlin, forty-four bells; Bruges,

forty bells; Tournay, forty bells; Ghent, thirty-nine bells; Louvain,

forty bells.

THE SWISS HORNS PRAISING THE LORD.

It was a custom at one time among the Swiss shepherds to watch the setting

sun. When he had already left the valleys, and was visible only on the

tops of the snow-capped mountains, the inhabitants of the cottages which

were in the most elevated situations would seize their horns, and, turning

towards their next neighbours beneath them, sing out through the

instruments the words, "Praise the Lord!" The sounds were then taken up

in the same manner by those to whom they were addressed, and again by

those lower down, and thus were repeated from Alp to Alp. And the name of

the Lord was re-echoed and proclaimed in song, till the music reached the

valleys below. A deep and solemn silence then ensued, until the last trace

of the sun, when the herdsmen on the mountain tops sang out "Good-night,"

which was repeated and re-echoed as the other words had been, till every

one retired to rest.

EARLY CHURCH MUSIC.

Over and above the preaching of sermons, which were deemed an important

part of the public Christian service, and which shorthand writers employed

themselves in taking down for circulation, there was much care given to

sacred music and singing of hymns. A choir was often formed. The Psalms,

as well as hymns and doxologies, were chanted. Some spiritual songs were

composed by Ambrose of Milan and Hilary of Poitiers. But there were always

objectors to anything being used in Church music which was not taken from

the Sacred Scriptures. In the fourth century the Egyptian abbot Pambo

inveighed against the introduction of heathen melodies as too apparent,

while the abbot Isidore of Pelusium complained of a style of singing too

theatrical, especially among the women. Jerome, in his comments on St.

Paul's Epistles, said that Christians should not be like the comedians,

who smoothed their throats with sweet drinks in order to render their

theatrical melodies more impressive, but that it was the heart alone which

could properly make melody to the Lord.

SINGING IN CHURCH.

It was said that St. Ambrose introduced the method of alternate singing in

churches. The whole service in the primitive Church seems to have been of

a very irregular kind till the time of Pope Gregory the Great, for the

people sang each as his inclination led him, with hardly any other

restriction than that what they sang should be to the praise of God.

Indeed, some special offices, such as the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles'

Creed, had been used in the Church service almost from the first

establishment of Christianity; but these were too few to prevent the

introduction of hymns and spiritual songs. The evil increased, and the

Emperor Theodosius requested the then Pope, Damasus, to frame such a

service as should be consistent with the solemnity and decency of Divine

worship. The Pope readily assented, and employed for this purpose a

presbyter named Hieronymus, a man of learning, gravity, and discretion,

who formed a new ritual, into which he introduced the Epistles, Gospels,

and the Psalms, with the _Gloria Patri_ and Hallelujah. And these,

together with certain hymns which he thought proper to retain, made up the

whole of the service.

ORIGIN OF SINGING IN CHURCH SERVICES.

The first change in the manner of singing was the substitution of singers

(who became a separate order in the Church) for the mingled voices of all

ranks, ages, and sexes, which was compared by Ambrose, the great reformer

of Church music, to the glad sound of many waters. The antiphonal singing,

in which the different sides of the choir answered to each other in

responsive verses, was first introduced at Antioch by Flavianus Diodorus.

Milman observes that it is not improbable that this system of alternate

chanting may have prevailed in the Temple service at Jerusalem. The

antiphonal chanting was introduced into the West by Ambrose; and if it

inspired or even accompanied the _Te Deum_ usually ascribed to that

prelate, we cannot calculate too highly its effect on the Christian mind.

So beautiful was the music in the Ambrosian service that the sensitive

conscience of the young Augustine took alarm, lest when he wept at the

solemn music he should be yielding to the luxury of sweet sounds rather

than imbibing the devotional spirit of the hymn. Though alive to the

perilous pleasure, he inclined to the wisdom of awakening weaker minds to

piety by this enchantment of their hearing. The Ambrosian chant, with its

more simple and masculine tones, is still preserved in the church of

Milan; in the rest of Italy it was superseded by the richer Roman chant

which was introduced by Gregory the Great. The cathedral chanting of

England has almost alone preserved the ancient antiphonal system, now

discarded by the Roman Catholic Church for its greater variety of

instruments.

THE ORGAN IN CHURCH MUSIC.

No instrument, as an accompaniment to human voices in Church music, has

been discovered equal to the organ for the power and grandeur of its

effects; but being of a great mechanical complexity, it has taken many

centuries to bring it to perfection. Rudimentary instruments of the same

kind, worked by wind and some by water, are mentioned by the ancients. The

hydraulic organ was used for some centuries in preference to the pneumatic

organ, but it ceased altogether in the fourteenth century. It is not

precisely known at what period the organ was first used for religious

purposes, but it seems to have been in common use in Spain about 450. Pope

Vitalianus, in 666, saw its advantages in assisting the human voice. In

the eighth century both the Anglo-Saxon and French artists began to exert

their ingenuity in improving the instrument. Charlemagne first introduced

it in Germany, and he sent one as a present to the Caliph. In the ninth

century organs came into general use in England, and St. Dunstan showed

his ingenuity in improvements. One was made in 951 for Winchester

Cathedral. A monk named Theophilus in the eleventh century published a

treatise on the art of making the organ. Organs, whether hydraulic or

pneumatic, were nearly the only instruments used in churches in the

twelfth and thirteenth centuries, all others being rejected, in

consequence of abuse and their theatrical effect. There were usually,

however, opponents and defenders of the extent to which this accompaniment

was resorted to. Peter the Venerable, of Cluny, defended them. St.

Augustine had lamented the blindness of the Manicheans in rejecting sacred

music. The first organ which appeared in Europe was sent as a present by

Constantine Copronymus to Pepin, King of France, in 757, and he placed it

in the church of St. Corneille at Compiégne. The secret of these steam

organs is now entirely lost. The first organ on the present principle seen

in the West was that which Louis Debonnaire placed in the church of

Aix-la-Chapelle. It is related of this organ that a woman expired through

rapture and surprise at the sweetness of its sound. One of the same kind

was mentioned in the annals of Fulda in 828. At the close of the ninth

century many skilful organ-builders were drawn to Rome by Pope John VIII.

In the tenth century an organ of this kind was placed in Westminster

Abbey. So delicious and astonishing was the music of organs and flutes at

the consecration of the monastic church of Cava, near Salerno, and such

was the harmony of sound and pleasant odours, that the Serene Duke Roger

and all the people present thought themselves on the very borders of

heaven. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries it was the custom to place

the organ in the choir, but in the fifteenth century a custom arose to

remove it to the western extremity of the nave. It was thought before the

Council of Trent, in 1545, that the Church music had been carried to an

excess, and the council once thought of prohibiting all music except the

Gregorian.

AUGUSTINE CONVERTING THE BRITONS WITH MUSIC.

When Augustine came from Italy to England, about the year 596, for the

purpose of converting the inhabitants of Britain to Christianity, he and

his accompanying missionaries adopted in aid of their devotions a musical

service. For some time the people were delighted with so agreeable a

novelty, but after a while it gradually ceased to please, and at length

met with such violent opposition that it was entirely laid aside. During

the papacy of Vitalianus, in 657, one of the principal vocalists in Rome

was sent to instruct the Britons in the Italian method of chanting and

singing, and the cathedral of Canterbury is entitled to the honour of

having been the first church in England in which a regular choral service

was performed.

THE EARLIEST HYMNS OF THE CHURCH.

There was always some trace of hymns, as distinguished from the Psalms,

being used by Christians. There is some dispute as to the hymn sung by our

Lord and His Apostles on the occasion of the Last Supper. Some think it

must have been the Hallel or paschal hymn, consisting of Psalms

cxiii.-cxviii., which was chanted. In the gaol at Philippi Paul and Silas

sang their hymns so loudly that the fellow-prisoners heard them. The

Greeks seem to have had only eight tunes of Church music, and the Syrians

had two hundred and seventy-five. The earliest known Christian hymn is

given by Clemens Alexandrinus, the historian. The learned have disputed

whether the Christian Greek hymns were founded on the old Pagan hymns used

in the heathen worship. Ambrose, about 360, is thought to have been the

first to introduce hymns into the Latin Church, though it is more likely

that he merely gave greater impetus to the use of these in the Church

services.

MONK MUSICIANS (A.D. 945).

It is related that the use of musical notes was found first in the abbey

of Corby, in Saxony, about 945. Alfanus, a monk of Mount Cassino, was also

considered eminent in the art. In the abbey of St. Gall three great

musicians were found at the same time. One of them, Tutilo, seemed to

excel in every work of art. He had a clear voice, was an admirable

painter, an architect and a preacher, and also could play on flutes and

pipes, and taught the children of the nobles how to play on the flute. He

was most effective in the choir, and expert at composing verses and

melodies. During the ninth and tenth centuries, the monks of St. Gall were

famed for their musical compositions. Once a composition sung by a monk of

St. Gall on Easter Day before King Conrad I. was rendered with such power

that all the audience were roused to ecstasy. The King, the Queen, and the

King's sister called the performer before them, took off their rings, and

put them on his fingers, to signify their intense admiration. It used to

be said that the beginning of this excellence at St. Gall was owing to a

Roman musician who had fallen sick there while on a journey to Germany,

and he was so hospitably treated that, out of gratitude, he instructed the

monks in his art. The St. Gall scores were copied in many other

monasteries, and musical science was carried to a high pitch of excellence

by the modern composer Zingarelli, who used to prepare himself for his

finest work by reading some treatise of the Fathers.

NICHOLAS PEREGRINUS, WHO SANG "LORD, HAVE PITY" (A.D. 1094).

About 1094 Nicholas became famous in Apulia, when he was eight years old

tending his mother's sheep, for he had an irrepressible tendency to sing

aloud incessantly, "Kyrie eleïson" ("Lord, have mercy"), and he never left

off this all his life long. His mother sent him to a monastery to have him

imprisoned and chastised till he gave up singing his song. But he took his

punishment patiently, and went on singing as zealously as before. He made

himself a hut, living by himself, but praising God aloud continually. He

went to Lepanto, where another monk joined him. He fasted every day till

evening; his food was a little bread and water, and yet he did not grow

lean. He wore a short vest, his head, legs, and feet being naked. He

carried a light wooden cross, a scrip at his side to receive alms, and the

alms he converted into fruit to distribute among the boys who willingly

joined him in his excursions and in singing his favourite hymn. His

oddities provoked some contumely, in which bishops did not scruple to

join. But he performed various miracles and had a large following,

exhorting the people to repentance. At his death great multitudes joined

in his funeral, and many miracles were said to be wrought at his tomb in

the cathedral.

HERESY PROPAGATED BY MUSIC (A.D. 1150).

Harmonius, son of the famous heretic Bardesanes, a Syrian who lived in the

twelfth century, contributed greatly to the propagation of heresy by the

fascinating sweetness of the melodies which he composed and applied to

odes and canticles written against the religion of Christ. So struck was

St. Ephraim with their mellifluousness, and so persuaded that they were

qualified by their beauty to recommend and spread any doctrine in support

of which they might be employed, that he set the same tunes to different

words, and ordered them to be publicly sung, so as to bring back the

people to orthodoxy, which at that time was identified with the doctrine

of the Trinity.

THE POPE REFORMING CHURCH MUSIC (A.D. 1545).

The introduction of instrumental music into the Church services once

greatly perplexed the Pope and the councils of the clergy. Music had

become so artificial and so wasted in frivolous and intricate airs, that

the Council of Trent expressed its protest against using such profane

aids. Pius IV. thereon appointed a commission to inquire whether music

should be tolerated at all in churches. Fortunately at that time a great

composer named Palestrina appeared at Rome. He was a priest, but had been

expelled from the Church for marrying, and he still clung to his favourite

art. He composed sacred airs for the services in the Sistine Chapel, and

he seemed to comprehend with an original genius the kind of music

appropriate to the Mass. He devoted his whole soul to this work. His first

two efforts were thought to be failures, but at last in a happy moment he

completed a masterly work known by the name of "The Mass of Pope

Marcellus." It had passages of blended grandeur and self-prostration, with

rich and varied melodies interspersed, which delighted the Pope, who said

the airs were such as the Apostle John may have heard in his ecstatic

vision. The success of Palestrina set at rest the vexed question of Church

music. It showed that music was capable of being made to subserve and

enhance the most fervid devotion and religious enthusiasm. The soul was

elevated by the exulting bursts of jubilee and the adoring strains of

lowly reverence. The art then came to be firmly wedded to the service of

the Church, and every grade of elevated feeling found its appropriate

expression, and piety was quickened into rapture and a diviner ecstasy by

the masterpieces of a succession of great composers.

SINGING OF THE MISERERE IN THE POPE'S CHAPEL.

One of the most impressive performances of sacred music is the singing of

the _Miserere_ or fifty-first Psalm in the Sistine Chapel at Rome, and

the musical score is kept secret and no copy allowed to be given to

strangers under pain of excommunication. There are thirty-two voices

employed in the singing, without any organ or other instrument to

accompany it. The performance was supposed to be at its greatest height of

excellence about 1780, before the growing practice of opera withdrew the

choicest voices from the service of the Church. This celebrated piece is

sung twice during Passion Week, and was composed about 1627. When it

begins, the Pope and cardinals prostrate themselves on their knees. The

grand picture by Michael Angelo of the Last Judgment which is over the

altar is then discovered to be brilliantly illuminated by tapers. These

are gradually extinguished till the pale light scarcely reveals the forms

of the miserable creatures as they listen to the slow and dirgelike wail

of the voices. It sounds as if the sinner, confounded before the majesty

of God and prostrate with fear, awaited in silence some awful doom. The

sublimity of the music is heightened by the peculiar manner of repeating

the same melody in every verse of the psalm, and yet by retarding the tune

and swelling or diminishing the sound according to the sense, never

allowing the ear to feel the least tediousness. The music score is said to

be no correct record of the peculiarity of the melody, and the mode of

managing the voices is said to be a secret kept by the chapel-master

alone, who hands down the tradition to his successor. It is performed only

in the Sistine Chapel, and those who have heard it never forget the grand

and solemn impression it produces.

LUTHER'S VIEW OF CHURCH MUSIC.

Luther, who was an excellent musician, received into his church a

collection of anthems and hymns which so pleased him that he exultingly

exclaimed, "We all know that such music is hateful and unbearable to the

devil." Dr. Wetenhall said the music of his church was such that no devil

could stand against it.

ORIGINATOR OF ORATORIOS.

What is called the _cantata spirituale_ or oratorio is generally believed

to have been indebted for its origin to San Filippo Neri, a Florentine

priest, who, about the middle of the sixteenth century, was accustomed

after the sermons to assemble such of his congregation as had musical

voices in the oratory of his chapel for the purpose of singing various

pieces of devotional and other sacred music. Regularly composed oratorios

were not, however, in use till nearly a century afterwards. These, at

their commencement, consisted of a mixture of dramatic and narrative

parts, in which neither change of place nor unity of time was observed.

They consisted of monologues, dialogues, duets, trios, and recitatives of

four voices. The subject of one of them was the conversation of Christ

with the Samaritan woman; of another, the prodigal son received into his

father's house; of a third, Tobias with the angel, his father and wife;

and of a fourth, the angel Gabriel with the Virgin Mary.

THE HEAVEN-BORN COMPOSER OF ANTHEMS.

Purcell, a famous English composer of anthems, was a born musician, and as

a boy produced some of his best. At eighteen he was appointed organist at

Westminster Abbey, in 1676. He excelled in every species of composition.

Nothing can transcend the grand effect of his _Te Deum_, which soars to

the highest elevation of holy fervour. He died prematurely at the age of

thirty-seven of consumption. On a tablet fixed to a pillar in Westminster

Abbey, where he is buried, the following inscription is to be seen: "Here

lies Henry Purcell, Esq., who left this life, and is gone to that blessed

place where only his harmony can be exceeded. He died in 1695." There is

also a Latin epitaph, of which four lines are thus translated:--

"Applaud so great a guest, celestial powers,

Who now resides with you, but once was ours.

Not dead, he lives while yonder organ's sound

And sacred echoes to the choir rebound."

Purcell's _Te Deum_ was constantly performed at the annual festivals of

the sons of the clergy, till Handel's noble production of the _Te Deum_

was produced in 1743, and then the two versions were used alternately.

Dryden, not less than Pope, celebrates Purcell's merit thus:--

"Sometimes a hero in an age appears,

But scarce a Purcell in a thousand years."

Again he said:--

"The heavenly choir who heard his notes from high

Let down the scale of music from the sky:

They handed him along,

And all the way he taught, and all the way they sung."

It is true that, after Purcell, Handel soon appeared and claimed even

superior praise.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF HANDEL.

When Handel, dissatisfied with the reception of his oratorio of the

_Messiah_ in London, went to Dublin to test his work with a more impartial

audience, he procured the best choristers from St. Patrick's and Christ's

cathedrals. The chief singers were Mrs. Cibber and Mrs. Avolio. It is

related that after Mrs. Cibber had sung "He was despised" with great

pathos, a clergyman in one of the boxes was so excited and transported

that he called out with a loud voice to her, "Woman, for this be all thy

sins forgiven." It was also a remarkable incident that, in compliance with

a request that the ladies who honoured the performance would be pleased to

come without their hoops, they actually made the great self-sacrifice

requested, and left their hoops behind, thereby allowing of a great deal

of additional space for the rest of the audience. Such music had never

before been heard in England. When Handel's oratorio was first performed

in Ireland, it was heard with admiration. The expressive force and pathos

of the recitatives and melodies, and the superlative grandeur of the

choral parts, were equally appreciated, and the whole was hailed as a

wonderful effort of the art of harmony. Taught by the better criticism of

the sister kingdom, England at his return discovered the excellence to

which she had been so unaccountably deaf, and lavished her praises on what

she had before dismissed with disgrace or without approbation. In 1742

Handel gave a performance of the _Messiah_ in the Foundling Hospital

Chapel with great success, and the proceeds were presented by him to that

institution, then recently established.

FIRST PERFORMANCE OF HANDEL'S "MESSIAH."

It is related by Dr. Beattie, the poet, that when Handel's _Messiah_ was

first performed the audience were greatly struck and affected by the

music. But when the chorus reached the part beginning "For the Lord God

omnipotent reigneth," the audience, including the King (George II.), were

so transported that they all instinctively started to their feet and

remained standing till the conclusion of the passage. Hence it became a

fashion in England for the audience to stand during that part of that

magnificent hymn.

HANDEL COMMEMORATIONS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

Except the dedication of the Temple, at which, according to Josephus,

200,000 musicians were engaged, the commemoration of Handel in

Westminster Abbey in 1784 was considered at that time the greatest

performance that ever was heard. The band contained 482 instrumentalists.

The vocal performers included 22 cantos, 51 altos, 66 tenors, 69 basses.

The receipts for the five commemorations amounted to £12,736. At this

performance on so unprecedented a scale, the audience was melted and

enraptured by the exquisite sweetness of the solos, the powerful execution

of the choruses affected some to tears, and many fainted with the

excitement. When the whole chorus, from each side of the stupendous

orchestra, joined in by all the instruments, burst out "He is the King of

glory," the effect was so overpowering that the performers could scarcely

proceed. Though Pope had no ear for music, he was aware of the triumphs of

his contemporary, the great composer, and in "The Dunciad" thus describes

him:--

"Strong in new arras, lo! giant Handel stands,

Like bold Briareus, with a hundred hands;

To stir, to rouse, to shake the soul he comes,

And Jove's own thunders follow Mars's drums."

INDEX.

Abbess of Arles, deathbed, 221.

Abbey, officials of, 218.

Abbots, power over monastery, 217;

lecturing his monks, 223;

war of two, 224;

harassed with care, 306.

Abdication of Emperor, 330;

of Pope, 363;

of Sultan, 372.

Actor, the martyr, 148.

Adriano, painter, 496.

Agbarus writing to Christ, 12.

Agnus Dei, 75.