As you return this morning to St. Mary's, you may as well observe--the
matter before us being concerning gates,--that the western façade of
the church is of two periods. Your Murray refers it all to the latest of
these;--I forget when, and do not care;--in which the largest flanking
columns, and the entire effective mass of the walls, with their riband
mosaics and high pediment, were built in front of, and above, what the
barbarian renaissance designer chose to leave of the pure old Dominican
church. You may see his ungainly jointings at the pedestals of the great
columns, running through the pretty, parti-coloured base, which, with
the 'Strait' Gothic doors, and the entire lines of the fronting and
flanking tombs (where not restored by the Devil-begotten brood of modern
Florence), is of pure, and exquisitely severe and refined, fourteenth
century Gothic, with superbly carved bearings on its shields. The small
detached line of tombs on the left, untouched in its sweet colour and
living weed ornament, I would fain have painted, stone by stone: but one
can never draw in front of a church in these republican days; for all
the blackguard children of the neighbourhood come to howl, and
throw stones, on the steps, and the ball or stone play against these
sculptured tombs, as a dead wall adapted for that purpose only, is
incessant in the fine days when I could have worked.
If you enter by the door most to the left, or north, and turn
immediately to the right, on the interior of the wall of the façade is
an Annunciation, visible enough because well preserved, though in the
dark, and extremely pretty in its way,--of the decorated and ornamental
school following Giotto:--I can't guess by whom, nor does it much
matter; but it is well To look at it by way of contrast with the
delicate, intense, slightly decorated design of Memmi,--in which, when
you return into the Spanish chapel, you will feel the dependence for
its effect on broad masses of white and pale amber, where the decorative
school would have had mosaic of red, blue, and gold.
Our first business this morning must be to read and understand the
writing on the book held open by St. Thomas Aquinas, for that informs us
of the meaning of the whole picture.
It is this text from the Book of Wisdom VII. 6.
"Optavi, et datus est mihi sensus.
Invocavi, et venit in me Spiritus Sapientiae,
Et preposui illam regnis et sedibus."
"I willed, and Sense was given me.
I prayed, and the Spirit of Wisdom came upon me.
And I set her before, (preferred her to,) kingdoms
and thrones."
The common translation in our English Apocrypha loses the entire meaning
of this passage, which--not only as the statement of the experience of
Florence in her own education, but as universally descriptive of the
process of all noble education whatever--we had better take pains to
understand.
First, says Florence "I willed, (in sense of resolutely desiring,) and
Sense was given me." You must begin your education with the distinct
resolution to know what is true, and choice of the strait and rough road
to such knowledge. This choice is offered to every youth and maid at
some moment of their life;--choice between the easy downward road, so
broad that we can dance down it in companies, and the steep narrow way,
which we must enter alone. Then, and for many a day afterwards, they
need that form of persistent Option, and Will: but day by day, the
'Sense' of the rightness of what they have done, deepens on them, not in
consequence of the effort, but by gift granted in reward of it. And the
Sense of difference between right and wrong, and between beautiful and
unbeautiful things, is confirmed in the heroic, and fulfilled in the
industrious, soul.
That is the process of education in the earthly sciences, and the
morality connected with them. Reward given to faithful Volition.
Next, when Moral and Physical senses are perfect, comes the desire
for education in the higher world, where the senses are no more our
Teachers; but the Maker of the senses. And that teaching, we cannot get
by labour, but only by petition.
"Invocavi, et venit in me Spiritus Sapientiae"--"I prayed, and the
Spirit of Wisdom," (not, you observe, _was given_, [Footnote: I in
careless error, wrote "was given" in 'Fors Clavigera.] but,) "_came_
upon me." The _personal_ power of Wisdom: the "[Greek: sophia]" or Santa
Sophia, to whom the first great Christian temple was dedicated. This
higher wisdom, governing by her presence, all earthly conduct, and by
her teaching, all earthly art, Florence tells you, she obtained only by
prayer.
And these two Earthly and Divine sciences are expressed beneath in the
symbols of their divided powers;--Seven terrestrial, Seven celestial,
whose names have been already indicated to you:--in which figures I
must point out one or two technical matters, before touching their
interpretation. They are all by Simon Memmi originally; but repainted,
many of them all over, some hundred years later,--(certainly after the
discovery of America, as you will see)--by an artist of considerable
power, and some feeling for the general action of the figures; but of no
refinement or carelessness. He dashes massive paint in huge spaces over
the subtle old work, puts in his own chiaro-oscuro where all had been
shadeless, and his own violent colour where all had been pale, and
repaints the faces so as to make them, to his notion, prettier and more
human: some of this upper work has, however, come away since, and the
original outline, at least, is traceable; while in the face of the
Logic, the Music, and one or two others, the original work is very
pure. Being most interested myself in the earthly sciences, I had a
scaffolding put up, made on a level with them, and examined them inch
by inch, and the following report will be found accurate until next
repainting.
For interpretation of them, you must always take the central figure of
the Science, with the little medallion above it, and the figure below,
all together. Which I proceed to do, reading first from left to right
for the earthly sciences, and then from right to left the heavenly ones,
to the centre, where their two highest powers sit, side by side.
We begin, then, with the first in the list given above, (Vaulted Book,
page 75):--Grammar, in the corner farthest from the window.
1. GRAMMAR: more properly Grammaticë, "Grammatic Act" the Art of
_Letters_ or "Literature," or using the word which to some English ears
will carry most weight with it,--"Scripture," and its use. The Art
of faithfully reading what has been written for our learning; and of
clearly writing what we would make immortal of our thoughts. Power
which consists first in recognizing letters; secondly, in forming them;
thirdly, in the understanding and choice of words which errorless shall
express our thought. Severe exercises all, reaching--very few living
persons know, how far: beginning properly in childhood, then only to be
truly acquired. It is wholly impossible--this I say from too sorrowful
experience--to conquer by any effort or time, habits of the hand (much
more of head and soul) with which the vase of flesh has been formed and
filled in youth,--the law of God being that parents shall compel the
child in the day of its obedience into habits of hand, and eye,
and soul, which, when it is old, shall not, by any strength, or any
weakness, be departed from.
"Enter ye in," therefore, says Grammaticë, "at the Strait Gate." She
points through it with her rod, holding a fruit(?) for reward, in her
left hand. The gate is very strait indeed--her own waist no less so,
her hair fastened close. She had once a white veil binding it, which is
lost. Not a gushing form of literature, this,--or in any wise disposed
to subscribe to Mudie's, my English friends--or even patronize Tauchnitz
editions of--what is the last new novel you see ticketed up today in
Mr. Goodban's window? She looks kindly down, nevertheless, to the three
children whom she is teaching--two boys and a girl: (Qy. Does this mean
that one girl out of every two should not be able to read or write? I am
quite willing to accept that inference, for my own part,--should perhaps
even say, two girls out of three). This girl is of the highest classes,
crowned, her golden hair falling behind her the Florentine girdle round
her hips--(not waist, the object being to leave the lungs full play; but
to keep the dress always well down in dancing or running). The boys are
of good birth also, the nearest one with luxuriant curly hair--only
the profile of the farther one seen. All reverent and eager. Above, the
medallion is of a figure looking at a fountain. Underneath, Lord Lindsay
says, Priscian, and is, I doubt not, right.
_Technical Points_.--The figure is said by Crowe to be entirely
repainted. The dress is so throughout--both the hands also, and the
fruit, and rod. But the eyes, mouth, hair above the forehead, and
outline of the rest, with the faded veil, and happily, the traces left
of the children, are genuine; the strait gate perfectly so, in the
colour underneath, though reinforced; and the action of the entire
figure is well preserved: but there is a curious question about both
the rod and fruit. Seen close, the former perfectly assumes the shape
of folds of dress gathered up over the raised right arm, and I am not
absolutely sure that the restorer has not mistaken the folds--at the
same time changing a pen or style into a rod. The fruit also I have
doubts of, as fruit is not so rare at Florence that it should be made a
reward. It is entirely and roughly repainted, and is oval in shape. In
Giotto's Charity, luckily not restored, at Assisi, the guide-books have
always mistaken the heart she holds for an apple:--and my own belief is
that originally, the Grammaticë of Simon Memmi made with her right hand
the sign which said, "Enter ye in at the Strait Gate," and with her
left, the sign which said, "My son, give me thine Heart."
II. RHETORIC. Next to learning how to read and write, you are to learn
to speak; and, young ladies and gentlemen, observe,--to speak as little
as possible, it is farther implied, till you _have_ learned.
In the streets of Florence at this day you may hear much of what some
people call "rhetoric"--very passionate speaking indeed, and quite "from
the heart"--such hearts as the people have got. That is to say, you
never hear a word uttered but in a rage, either just ready to burst,
or for the most part, explosive instantly: everybody--man, woman, or
child--roaring out their incontinent, foolish, infinitely contemptible
opinions and wills, on every smallest occasion, with flashing
eyes, hoarsely shrieking and wasted voices,--insane hope to drag by
vociferation whatever they would have, out of man and God.
Now consider Simon Memmi's Rhetoric. The Science of Speaking, primarily;
of making oneself _heard_ therefore: which is not to be done by
shouting. She alone, of all the sciences, carries a scroll: and being a
speaker gives you something to read. It is not thrust forward at you at
all, but held quietly down with her beautiful depressed right hand; her
left hand set coolly and strongly on her side.
And you will find that, thus, she alone of all the sciences _needs no
use of her hands_. All the others have some important business for them.
She none. She can do all with her lips, holding scroll, or bridle, or
what you will, with her right hand, her left on her side.
Again, look at the talkers in the streets of Florence, and see how,
being essentially _un_able to talk, they try to make lips of their
fingers! How they poke, wave, flourish, point, jerk, shake finger and
fist at their antagonists--dumb essentially, all the while, if they knew
it; unpersuasive and ineffectual, as the shaking of tree branches in the
wind.
You will at first think her figure ungainly and stiff. It is so, partly,
the dress being more coarsely repainted than in any other of the series.
But she is meant to be both stout and strong. What she has to say is
indeed to persuade you, if possible; but assuredly to overpower you. And
_she_ has not the Florentine girdle, for she does not want to move. She
has her girdle broad at the waist--of all the sciences, you would at
first have thought, the one that most needed breath! No, says Simon
Memmi. You want breath to run, or dance, or fight with. But to
speak!--If you know _how_, you can do your work with few words; very
little of this pure Florentine air will be enough, if you shape it
rightly.
Note, also, that calm setting of her hand against her side. You think
Rhetoric should be glowing, fervid, impetuous? No, says Simon Memmi.
Above all things,--_cool_.
And now let us read what is written on her scroll:--Mulceo, dum loquor,
varios induta colores.
Her chief function, to melt; make soft, thaw the hearts of men with kind
fire; to overpower with peace; and bring rest, with rainbow colours. The
chief mission of all words that they should be of comfort.
You think the function of words is to excite? Why, a red rag will do
that, or a blast through a brass pipe. But to give calm and gentle heat;
to be as the south wind, and the iridescent rain, to all bitterness
of frost; and bring at once strength, and healing. This is the work of
human lips, taught of God.
One farther and final lesson is given in the medallion above. Aristotle,
and too many modern rhetoricians of his school, thought there could
be good speaking in a false cause. But above Simon Memmi's Rhetoric is
_Truth_, with her mirror.
There is a curious feeling, almost innate in men, that though they are
bound to speak truth, in speaking to a single person, they may lie as
much as they please, provided they lie to two or more people at once.
There is the same feeling about killing: most people would shrink from
shooting one innocent man; but will fire a mitrailleuse contentedly into
an innocent regiment.
When you look down from the figure of the Science, to that of Cicero,
beneath, you will at first think it entirely overthrows my conclusion
that Rhetoric has no need of her hands. For Cicero, it appears, has
three instead of two.
The uppermost, at his chin, is the only genuine one. That raised, with
the finger up, is entirely false. That on the book, is repainted so as
to defy conjecture of its original action.
But observe how the gesture of the true one confirms instead of
overthrowing what I have said above. Cicero is not speaking at all,
but profoundly thinking _before_ he speaks. It is the most abstractedly
thoughtful face to be found among all the philosophers; and very
beautiful. The whole is under Solomon, in the line of Prophets.
_Technical Points_.--These two figures have suffered from restoration
more than any others, but the right hand of Rhetoric is still entirely
genuine, and the left, except the ends of the fingers. The ear, and hair
just above it, are quite safe, the head well set on its original line,
but the crown of leaves rudely retouched, and then faded. All the lower
part of the figure of Cicero has been not only repainted but changed;
the face is genuine--I believe retouched, but so cautiously and
skilfully, that it is probably now more beautiful than at first.
III. LOGIC. The science of reasoning, or more accurately Reason herself,
or pure intelligence.
Science to be gained after that of Expression, says Simon Memmi; so,
young people, it appears, that though you must not speak before you have
been taught how to speak, you may yet properly speak before you have
been taught how to think.
For indeed, it is only by frank speaking that you _can_ learn how to
think. And it is no matter how wrong the first thoughts you have may
be, provided you express them clearly;--and are willing to have them put
right.
Fortunately, nearly all of this beautiful figure is practically safe,
the outlines pure everywhere, and the face perfect: the _prettiest_,
as far as I know, which exists in Italian art of this early date. It is
subtle to the extreme in gradations of colour: the eyebrows drawn, not
with a sweep of the brush, but with separate cross touches in the line
of their growth--exquisitely pure in arch; the nose straight and fine;
the lips--playful slightly, proud, unerringly cut; the hair flowing in
sequent waves, ordered as if in musical time; head perfectly upright on
the shoulders; the height of the brow completed by a crimson frontlet
set with pearls, surmounted by a _fleur-de-lys_.
Her shoulders were exquisitely drawn, her white jacket fitting close
to soft, yet scarcely rising breasts; her arms singularly strong, at
perfect rest; her hands, exquisitely delicate. In her right, she holds a
branching and leaf-bearing rod, (the syllogism); in her left, a scorpion
with double sting, (the dilemma)--more generally, the powers of rational
construction and dissolution.
Beneath her, Aristotle,--intense keenness of search in his half-closed
eyes.
Medallion above, (less expressive than usual) a man writing, with his
head stooped.
The whole under Isaiah, in the line of Prophets.
_Technical Points_.--The only parts of this figure which have suffered
seriously in repainting are the leaves of the rod, and the scorpion. I
have no idea, as I said above, what the background once was; it is now a
mere mess of scrabbled grey, carried over the vestiges, still with care
much redeemable, of the richly ornamental extremity of the rod, which
was a cluster of green leaves on a black ground. But the scorpion is
indecipherably injured, most of it confused repainting, mixed with the
white of the dress, the double sting emphatic enough still, but not on
the first lines.
The Aristotle is very genuine throughout, except his hat, and I think
that must be pretty nearly on the old lines, through I cannot trace
them. They are good lines, new or old.
IV. MUSIC. After you have learned to reason, young people, of course you
will be very grave, if not dull, you think. No, says Simon Memmi. By no
means anything of the kind. After learning to reason, you will learn to
sing; for you will want to. There is so much reason for singing in the
sweet world, when one thinks rightly of it. None for grumbling, provided
always you _have_ entered in at the strait gate. You will sing all along
the road then, in a little while, in a manner pleasant for other people
to hear.
This figure has been one of the loveliest in the series, an extreme
refinement and tender severity being aimed at throughout. She is
crowned, not with laurel, but with small leaves,--I am not sure what
they are, being too much injured: the face thin, abstracted, wistful;
the lips not far open in their low singing; the hair rippling softly on
the shoulders. She plays on a small organ, richly ornamented with Gothic
tracery, the down slope of it set with crockets like those of Santa
Maria del Fiore. Simon Memmi means that _all_ music must be "sacred."
Not that you are never to sing anything but hymns, but that whatever
is rightly called music, or work of the Muses, is divine in help and
healing.
The actions of both hands are singularly sweet. The right is one of the
loveliest things I ever saw done in painting. She is keeping down one
note only, with her third finger, seen under the raised fourth: the
thumb, just passing under; all the curves of the fingers exquisite, and
the pale light and shade of the rosy flesh relieved against the ivory
white and brown of the notes. Only the thumb and end of the forefinger
are seen of the left hand, but they indicate enough its light pressure
on the bellows. Fortunately, all these portions of the fresco are
absolutely intact.
Underneath, Tubal-Cain. Not Jubal, as you would expect. Jubal is
the inventor of musical instruments. Tubal-Cain, thought the old
Florentines, invented harmony. They, the best smiths in the world, knew
the differences in tones of hammer strokes on anvil. Curiously enough,
the only piece of true part-singing, done beautifully and joyfully,
which I have heard this year in Italy, (being south of Alps exactly six
months, and ranging from Genoa to Palermo) was out of a busy smithy
at Perugia. Of bestial howling, and entirely frantic vomiting up of
hopelessly damned souls through their still carnal throats, I have heard
more than, please God, I will ever endure the hearing of again in one of
His summers.
You think Tubal-Cain very ugly? Yes. Much like a shaggy baboon:
not accidentally, but with most scientific understanding of baboon
character. Men must have looked like that, before they had invented
harmony, or felt that one note differed from another, says, and knows
Simon Memmi. Darwinism, like all widely popular and widely mischievous
fallacies, has many a curious gleam and grain of truth in its tissue.
Under Moses.
Medallion, a youth drinking. Otherwise, you might have thought only
church music meant, and not feast music also.
_Technical Points_.--The Tubal-Cain, one of the most entirely pure and
precious remnants of the old painting, nothing lost: nothing but the
redder ends of his beard retouched. Green dress of Music, in the body
and over limbs entirely repainted: it was once beautifully embroidered;
sleeves, partly genuine, hands perfect, face and hair nearly so. Leaf
crown faded and broken away, but not retouched.
V. ASTRONOMY. Properly Astro-logy, as (Theology) the knowledge of so
much of the stars as we can know wisely; not the attempt to define their
laws for them. Not that it is unbecoming of us to find out, if we can,
that they move in ellipses, and so on; but it is no business of ours.
What effects their rising and setting have on man, and beast, and leaf;
what their times and changes are, seen and felt in this world, it is
our business to know, passing our nights, if wakefully, by that divine
candlelight, and no other.
She wears a dark purple robe; holds in her left hand the hollow globe
with golden zodiac and meridians: lifts her right hand in noble awe.
"When I consider the heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the
stars, which Thou hast ordained."
Crowned with gold, her dark hair in elliptic waves, bound with
glittering chains of pearl. Her eyes dark, lifted.
Beneath her, Zoroaster,[Footnote: Atlas! according to poor Vasari,
and sundry modern guides. I find Vasari's mistakes usually of this
_brightly_ blundering kind. In matters needing research, after a while,
I find _he_ is right, usually.] entirely noble and beautiful, the
delicate Persian head made softer still by the elaborately wreathed
silken hair, twisted into the pointed beard, and into tapering plaits,
falling on his shoulders. The head entirely thrown back, he looks up
with no distortion of the delicately arched brow: writing, as he gazes.
For the association of the religion of the Magi with their own in the
mind of the Florentines of this time, see "Before the Soldan."
The dress must always have been white, because of its beautiful
opposition to the purple above and that of Tubal-Cain beside it. But it
has been too much repainted to be trusted anywhere, nothing left but
a fold or two in the sleeves. The cast of it from the knees down is
entirely beautiful, and I suppose on the old lines; but the restorer
could throw a fold well when he chose. The warm light which relieves the
purple of Zoroaster above, is laid in by him. I don't know if I should
have liked it better, flat, as it was, against the dark purple; it
seems to me quite beautiful now. The full red flush on the face of the
Astronomy is the restorer's doing also. She was much paler, if not quite
pale.
Under St. Luke.
Medallion, a stern man, with sickle and spade. For the flowers, and for
us, when stars have risen and set such and such times;--remember.
_Technical Points_.--Left hand globe, most of the important folds of
the purple dress, eyes, mouth, hair in great part, and crown, genuine.
Golden tracery on border of dress lost; extremity of falling folds from
left sleeve altered and confused, but the confusion prettily got out of.
Right hand and much of face and body of dress repainted.
Zoroaster's head quite pure. Dress repainted, but carefully, leaving
the hair untouched. Right hand and pen, now a common feathered quill,
entirely repainted, but dexterously and with feeling. The hand was once
slightly different in position, and held, most probably, a reed.
VI. GEOMETRY. You have now learned, young ladies and gentlemen, to read,
to speak, to think, to sing, and to see. You are getting old, and will
have soon to think of being married; you must learn to build your house,
therefore. Here is your carpenter's square for you, and you may safely
and wisely contemplate the ground a little, and the measures and laws
relating to that, seeing you have got to abide upon it:--and that
you have properly looked at the stars; not before then, lest, had you
studied the ground first, you might perchance never have raised your
heads from it. This is properly the science of all laws of practical
labour, issuing in beauty.
She looks down, a little puzzled, greatly interested, holding her
carpenter's square in her left hand, not wanting that but for practical
work; following a diagram with her right.
Her beauty, altogether soft and in curves, I commend to your notice,
as the exact opposite of what a vulgar designer would have imagined
for her. Note the wreath of hair at the back of her head, which though
fastened by a _spiral_ fillet, escapes at last, and flies off loose in a
sweeping curve. Contemplative Theology is the only other of the sciences
who has such wavy hair.
Beneath her, Euclid, in white turban. Very fine and original work
throughout; but nothing of special interest in him.
Under St. Matthew.
Medallion, a soldier with a straight sword (best for science of
defence), octagon shield, helmet like the beehive of Canton Vaud. As the
secondary use of music in feasting, so the secondary use of geometry
in war--her noble art being all in sweetest peace--is shown in the
medallion.
_Technical Points_.--It is more than fortunate that in nearly every
figure, the original outline of the hair is safe. Geometry's has
scarcely been retouched at all, except at the ends, once in single
knots, now in confused double ones. The hands, girdle, most of her
dress, and her black carpenter's square are original. Face and breast
repainted.
VII. ARITHMETIC. Having built your house, young people, and
understanding the light of heaven, and the measures of earth, you may
marry--and can't do better. And here is now your conclusive science,
which you will have to apply, all your days, to all your affairs.
The Science of Number. Infinite in solemnity of use in Italy at this
time; including, of course, whatever was known of the higher abstract
mathematics and mysteries of numbers, but reverenced especially in its
vital necessity to the prosperity of families and kingdoms, and first
fully so understood here in commercial Florence.
Her hand lifted, with two fingers bent, two straight, solemnly
enforcing on your attention her primal law--Two and two are--four, you
observe,--not five, as those accursed usurers think.
Under her, Pythagoras.
Above, medallion of king, with sceptre and globe, counting money. Have
you ever chanced to read carefully Carlyle's account of the foundation
of the existing Prussian empire, in economy?
You can, at all events, consider with yourself a little, what empire
this queen of the terrestrial sciences must hold over the rest, if they
are to be put to good use; or what depth and breadth of application
there is in the brief parables of the counted cost of Power, and number
of Armies.
To give a very minor, but characteristic, instance. I have always felt
that with my intense love of the Alps, I ought to have been able to make
a drawing of Chamouni, or the vale of Cluse, which should give people
more pleasure than a photograph; but I always wanted to do it as I saw
it, and engrave pine for pine, and crag for crag, like Albert Dürer.
I broke my strength down for many a year, always tiring of my work,
or finding the leaves drop off, or the snow come on, before I had well
begun what I meant to do. If I had only _counted_ my pines first, and
calculated the number of hours necessary to do them in the manner of
Dürer, I should have saved the available drawing time of some five
years, spent in vain effort.
But Turner counted his pines, and did all that could be done for them,
and rested content with that.
So in all the affairs of life, the arithmetical part of the business is
the dominant one. How many and how much have we? How many and how much
do we want? How constantly does noble Arithmetic of the finite lose
itself in base Avarice of the Infinite, and in blind imagination of it!
In counting of minutes, is our arithmetic ever solicitous enough?
In counting our days, is she ever severe enough? How we shrink from
putting, in their decades, the diminished store of them! And if we ever
pray the solemn prayer that we may be taught to number them, do we even
try to do it after praying?
_Technical Points_.--The Pythagoras almost entirely genuine. The upper
figures, from this inclusive to the outer wall, I have not been able to
examine thoroughly, my scaffolding not extending beyond the Geometry.
Here then we have the sum of sciences,--seven, according to the
Florentine mind--necessary to the secular education of man and woman. Of
these the modern average respectable English gentleman and gentlewoman
know usually only a little of the last, and entirely hate the prudent
applications of that: being unacquainted, except as they chance here
and there to pick up a broken piece of information, with either grammar,
rhetoric, music, [Footnote: Being able to play the piano and admire
Mendelssohn is not knowing music.] astronomy, or geometry; and are not
only unacquainted with logic, or the use of reason, themselves, but
instinctively antagonistic to its use by anybody else.
We are now to read the series of the Divine sciences, beginning at the
opposite side, next the window.
VIII. CIVIL LAW. Civil, or 'of citizens,' not only as distinguished from
Ecclesiastical, but from Local law. She is the universal Justice of
the peaceful relations of men throughout the world, therefore holds the
globe, with its _three_ quarters, white, as being justly governed, in
her left hand.
She is also the law of eternal equity, not erring statute; therefore
holds her sword _level_ across her breast. She is the foundation of
all other divine science. To know anything whatever about God, you must
begin by being Just.
Dressed in red, which in these frescoes is always a sign of power,
or zeal; but her face very calm, gentle and beautiful. Her hair bound
close, and crowned by the royal circlet of gold, with pure thirteenth
century strawberry leaf ornament.
Under her, the Emperor Justinian, in blue, with conical mitre of white
and gold; the face in profile, very beautiful. The imperial staff in his
right hand, the Institutes in his left.
Medallion, a figure, apparently in distress, appealing for justice.
(Trajan's suppliant widow?)
_Technical Points_.--The three divisions of the globe in her hand were
originally inscribed ASIA, AFRICA, EUROPE. The restorer has ingeniously
changed AF into AME--RICA. Faces, both of the science and emperor,
little retouched, nor any of the rest altered.
IX. CHRISTIAN LAW. After the justice which rules men, comes that which
rules the Church of Christ. The distinction is not between secular law,
and ecclesiastical authority, but between the equity of humanity, and
the law of Christian discipline.
In full, straight-falling, golden robe, with white mantle over it; a
church in her left hand; her right raised, with the forefinger lifted;
(indicating heavenly source of all Christian law? or warning?)
Head-dress, a white veil floating into folds in the air. You will find
nothing in these frescoes without significance; and as the escaping hair
of Geometry indicates the infinite conditions of lines of the higher
orders, so the floating veil here indicates that the higher relations of
Christian justice are indefinable. So her golden mantle indicates that
it is a glorious and excellent justice beyond that which unchristian men
conceive; while the severely falling lines of the folds, which form a
kind of gabled niche for the head of the Pope beneath, correspond with
the strictness of true Church discipline firmer as well as more luminous
statute.
Beneath, Pope Clement V., in red, lifting his hand, not in the position
of benediction, but, I suppose, of injunction,--only the forefinger
straight, the second a little bent, the two last quite. Note the strict
level of the book; and the vertical directness of the key.
The medallion puzzles me. It looks like a figure counting money.
_Technical Points_.--Fairly well preserved; but the face of the science
retouched: the grotesquely false perspective of the Pope's tiara, one of
the most curiously naïve examples of the entirely ignorant feeling after
merely scientific truth of form which still characterized Italian art.
Type of church interesting in its extreme simplicity; no idea of
transept, campanile, or dome.
X. PRACTICAL THEOLOGY. The beginning of the knowledge of God being Human
Justice, and its elements defined by Christian Law, the application of
the law so defined follows, first with respect to man, then with respect
to God.
"Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's--and to God the things
that are God's."
We have therefore now two sciences, one of our duty--to men, the other
to their Maker.
This is the first: duty to men. She holds a circular medallion,
representing Christ preaching on the Mount, and points with her right
hand to the earth.
The sermon on the Mount is perfectly expressed by the craggy pinnacle
in front of Christ, and the high dark horizon. There is curious evidence
throughout all these frescos of Simon Memmi's having read the Gospels
with a quite clear understanding of their innermost meaning.
I have called this science Practical Theology:--the instructive
knowledge, that is to say, of what God would have us do, personally, in
any given human relation: and the speaking His Gospel therefore by act.
"Let your light so shine before men."
She wears a green dress, like Music her hair in the Arabian arch, with
jewelled diadem.
Under David. Medallion, Almsgiving. Beneath her, Peter Lombard,
_Technical Points_.--It is curious that while the instinct of
perspective was not strong enough to enable any painter at this time to
foreshorten a foot, it yet suggested to them the expression of elevation
by raising the horizon.
I have not examined the retouching. The hair and diadem at least are
genuine, the face is dignified and compassionate, and much on the old
lines.
XI. DEVOTIONAL THEOLOGY.--Giving glory to God, or, more accurately,
whatever feelings He desires us to have towards Him, whether of
affection or awe.
This is the science or method of _devotion_ for Christians universally,
just as the Practical Theology is their science or method of _action_.
In blue and red: a narrow black rod still traceable in the left hand; I
am not sure of its meaning. ("Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me?")
The other hand open in admiration, like Astronomy's; but Devotion's is
held at her breast. Her head very characteristic of Memmi, with
upturned eyes, and Arab arch in hair. Under her, Dionysius the
Areopagite--mending his pen! But I am doubtful of Lord Lindsay's
identification of this figure, and the action is curiously common and
meaningless. It may have meant that meditative theology is essentially a
writer, not a preacher.
The medallion, on the other hand, is as ingenious. A mother lifting her
hands in delight at her child's beginning to take notice.
Under St. Paul.
_Technical Points_.--Both figures very genuine, the lower one almost
entirely so. The painting of the red book is quite exemplary in fresco
style.
XII. DOGMATIC THEOLOGY.--After action and worship, thought becoming too
wide and difficult, the need of dogma becomes felt; the assertion, that
is, within limited range, of the things that are to be believed.
Since whatever pride and folly pollute Christian scholarship naturally
delight in dogma, the science itself cannot but be in a kind of disgrace
among sensible men: nevertheless it would be difficult to overvalue the
peace and security which have been given to humble persons by forms of
creed; and it is evident that either there is no such thing as theology,
or some of its knowledge must be thus, if not expressible, at least
reducible within certain limits of expression, so as to be protected
from misinterpretation.
In red,--again the sign of power,--crowned with a black (once golden?)
triple crown, emblematic of the Trinity. The left hand holding a scoop
for winnowing corn; the other points upwards. "Prove all things--hold
fast that which is good, or of God."
Beneath her, Boethius. Under St. Mark. Medallion, female figure, laying
hands on breast.
_Technical Points_.--The Boethius entirely genuine, and the painting of
his black book, as of the red one beside it, again worth notice, showing
how pleasant and interesting the commonest things become, when well
painted.