which represents the Virgin and Child in the centre, and around are
the most famous heretics of all ages, lying prostrate, or hanging by
the neck. Julian the Apostate; Leo the Isaurian; his son, Constantine
Capronymus; Arius; Nestorius; Manicheus; Luther; Calvin:--very
characteristic of the age of controversy which had succeeded to the
age of faith, when, instead of solemn saints and grateful votaries, we
have dead or dying heretics surrounding the Mother of Mercy!

*       *       *       *       *

After this rapid sketch of the influences which modified in a general
way the pictures of the Madonna, we may array before us, and learn to
compare, the types which distinguished in a more particular manner the
separate schools, caught from some more local or individual impulses.
Thus we have the stern, awful quietude of the old Mosaics; the hard
lifelessness of the degenerate Greek; the pensive sentiment of
the Siena, and stately elegance of the Florentine Madonnas; the
intellectual Milanese, with their large foreheads and thoughtful eyes;
the tender, refined mysticism of the Umbrian; the sumptuous loveliness
of the Venetian; the quaint, characteristic simplicity of the early
German, so stamped with their nationality, that I never looked round
me in a room full of German girls without thinking of Albert Durer's
Virgins; the intense life-like feeling of the Spanish; the prosaic,
portrait-like nature of the Flemish schools, and so on. But here an
obvious question suggests itself. In the midst of all this diversity,
these ever-changing influences, was there no characteristic type
universally accepted, suggested by common religious associations, if
not defined by ecclesiastical authority, to which the artist was bound
to conform? How is it that the impersonation of the Virgin fluctuated,
not only with the fluctuating tendencies of successive ages, but even
with the caprices of the individual artist?

This leads us back to reconsider the sources from which the artist
drew his inspiration.

The legend which represents St. Luke the Evangelist as a painter
appears to be of Eastern origin, and quite unknown in Western Europe
before the first crusade. It crept in then, and was accepted with many
other oriental superstitions and traditions. It may have originated
in the real existence of a Greek painter named Luca--a saint, too,
he may have been; for the Greeks have a whole calendar of canonized
artists,--painters, poets, and musicians; and this Greek San Luca may
have been a painter of those Madonnas imported from the ateliers of
Mount Athos into the West by merchants and pilgrims; and the West,
which knew but of one St. Luke, may have easily confounded the painter
and the evangelist.

But we must also remember, that St. Luke the Evangelist was early
regarded as the great authority with respect to the few Scripture
particulars relating to the character and life of Mary; so that,
in the figurative sense, he may be said to have _painted_ that
portrait of her which has been since received as the perfect type
of womanhood:--1. Her noble, trustful humility, when she receives
the salutation of the angel (Luke i. 38); the complete and feminine
surrender of her whole being to the higher, holier will--"Be it unto
me according to thy word." 2. Then, the decision and prudence of
character, shown in her visit to Elizabeth, her older relative; her
journey in haste over the hills to consult with her cousin, which
journey it is otherwise difficult to accord with the oriental customs
of the time, unless Mary, young as she was, had possessed unusual
promptitude and energy of disposition. (Luke i. 39, 40.) 3. The proof
of her intellectual power in the beautiful hymn she has left us, "_My
soul doth magnify the Lord._" (Luke i. 46.) The commentators are
not agreed as to whether this effusion was poured forth by immediate
inspiration, or composed and written down, because the same words,
"and Mary said," may be interpreted in either sense; but we can no
more doubt her being the authoress, than we can doubt of any other
particulars recorded in the same Gospel: it proves that she must have
been, for her time and country, most rarely gifted in mind, and deeply
read in the Scriptures. 4. She was of a contemplative, reflecting,
rather silent disposition. "She kept all these sayings, and pondered
them in her heart." (Luke ii. 51.) She made no boast of that wondrous
and most blessed destiny to which she was called; she thought upon it
in silence. It is inferred that as many of these sayings and events
could be known to herself alone, St. Luke the Evangelist could have
learned them only from her own lips. 5. Next her truly maternal
devotion to her divine Son, whom she attended humbly through his whole
ministry;[1] 6. and lastly, the sublime fortitude and faith with which
she followed her Son to the death scene, stood beside the cross till
all was finished, and then went home, and _lived_ (Luke xxiii.); for
she was to be to us an example of all that a woman could endure, as
well as all that a woman could be and act out in her earthly life.
(John xix. 25.) Such was the character of Mary; such the _portrait_
really _painted_ by St. Luke; and, as it seems to me, these scattered,
artless, unintentional notices of conduct and character converge into
the most perfect moral type of the intellectual, tender, simple, and
heroic woman that ever was placed before us for our edification and
example.

[Footnote 1: Milton places in the mouth of our Saviour an allusion to
the influence of his Mother in early life:--

"These growing thoughts my mother soon perceiving
By words at times cast forth, duly rejoiced,
And said to me apart, 'High are thy thoughts,
O Son; but nourish them, and let them soar
To what height sacred virtue and true worth
Can raise them, though above example high.'"]

But in the Church traditions and enactments, another character
was, from the fifth century, assigned to her, out of which grew the
theological type, very beautiful and exalted, but absorbing to a great
degree the scriptural and moral type, and substituting for the merely
human attributes others borrowed from her relation to the great
scheme of redemption; for it was contended that, as the mother of
_the Divine_, she could not be herself less than divine; consequently
above the angels, and first of all created beings. According to the
doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, her tender woman's wisdom
became supernatural gifts; the beautiful humility was changed into a
knowledge of her own predestined glory; and, being raised bodily into
immortality, and placed beside her Son, in all "the sacred splendour
of beneficence," she came to be regarded as our intercessor before
that divine Son, who could refuse nothing to his mother. The relative
position of the Mother and Son being spiritual and indestructible was
continued in heaven; and thus step by step the woman was transmuted
into the divinity.

But, like her Son, Mary had walked in human form upon earth, and in
form must have resembled her Son; for, as it is argued, Christ had no
earthly father, therefore could only have derived his human lineaments
from his mother. All the old legends assume that the resemblance
between the Son and the Mother must have been perfect. Dante alludes
to this belief:

"Riguarda ormai nella faccia ch' a Christo
Piu s' assomiglia."

"Now raise thy view
Unto the visage most resembling Christ."

The accepted type of the head of Christ was to be taken as a model in
its mild, intellectual majesty, for that of the Virgin-mother, as far
as difference of sex would allow.

In the ecclesiastical history of Nicephorus Gallixtus, he has inserted
a description of the person of Mary, which he declares to have been
given by Epiphanius, who lived in the fourth century, and by him
derived from a more ancient source. It must be confessed, that the
type of person here assigned to the Virgin is more energetic for a
woman than that which has been assigned to our Saviour as a man. "She
was of middle stature; her face oval; her eyes brilliant, and of an
olive tint; her eyebrows arched and black; her hair was of a pale
brown; her complexion fair as wheat. She spoke little, but she spoke
freely and affably; she was not troubled in her speech, but grave,
courteous, tranquil. Her dress was without ornament, and in her
deportment was nothing lax or feeble." To this ancient description
of her person and manners, we are to add the scriptural and popular
portrait of her mind; the gentleness, the purity, the intellect,
power, and fortitude; the gifts of the poetess and prophetess; the
humility in which she exceeded all womankind. Lastly, we are to
engraft on these personal and moral qualities, the theological
attributes which the Church, from early times, had assigned to
her, the supernatural endowments which lifted her above angels
and men:--all these were to be combined into one glorious type of
perfection. Where shall we seek this highest, holiest impersonation!
Where has it been attained, or even approached? Not, certainly, in the
mere woman, nor yet in the mere idol; not in those lovely creations
which awaken a sympathetic throb of tenderness; nor in those stern,
motionless types,--which embody a dogma; not in the classic features
of marble goddesses, borrowed as models; nor in the painted images
which stare upon us from tawdry altars in flaxen wigs and embroidered
petticoats. But where?

Of course we each form to ourselves some notion of what we require;
and these requirements will be as diverse as our natures and our
habits of thought. For myself, I have seen my own ideal once, and only
once, attained: _there_, where Raphael--inspired if ever painter was
inspired--projected on the space before him that wonderful creation
which we style the _Madonna di San Sisto_ (Dresden Gal.); for there
she stands--the transfigured woman, at once completely human and
completely divine, an abstraction of power, purity, and love, poised
on the empurpled air, and requiring no other support; looking out,
with her melancholy, loving mouth, her slightly dilated, sibylline
eyes, quite through the universe, to the end and consummation of all
things;--sad, as if she beheld afar off the visionary sword that
was to reach her heart through HIM, now resting as enthroned on
that heart; yet already exalted through the homage of the redeemed
generations who were to salute her as Blessed. Six times have I
visited the city made glorious by the possession of this treasure, and
as often, when again at a distance, with recollections disturbed by
feeble copies and prints, I have begun to think, "Is it so indeed? is
she indeed so divine? or does not rather the imagination encircle
her with a halo of religion and poetry, and lend a grace which is not
really there?" and as often, when returned, I have stood before it and
confessed that there is more in that form and face than I had ever
yet conceived. I cannot here talk the language of critics, and speak
of this picture merely as a picture, for to me it was a revelation.
In the same gallery is the lovely Madonna of the Meyer family:
inexpressibly touching and perfect in its way, but conveying only one
of the attributes of Mary, her benign pity; while the Madonna di San
Sisto is an abstract of _all_.[1]

[Footnote 1: Expression is the great and characteristic excellence of
Raphael more especially in his Madonnas. It is precisely this which
all copies and engravings render at best most imperfectly; and in
point of expression the most successful engraving of the Madonna di
San Sisto is certainly that of Steinla.]

*       *       *       *       *

The poets are ever the best commentators on the painters. I have
already given from the great "singers of high poems" in the fourteenth
century _their_ exposition of the theological type of the Madonna.
Now, in some striking passages of our modern poets, we may find a most
beautiful commentary on what I have termed the _moral_ type.

The first is from Wordsworth, and may be recited before the Madonna di
San Sisto:--

"Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
With the least shade of thought to sin allied!
Woman! above all women glorified;
Out tainted nature's solitary boast;
Purer than foam on central ocean tost;
Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewn
With fancied roses, than the unblemish'd moon
Before her wane begins on heaven's blue coast,
Thy Image falls to earth. Yet some I ween,
Not unforgiven, the suppliant knee might bend,
As to a visible Power, in which did blend
All that was mix'd and reconcil'd in thee,
Of mother's love with maiden purity,
Of high with low, celestial with terrene."

The next, from Shelley, reads like a hymn in honour of the Immaculate
Conception:--

Seraph of Heaven! too gentle to be human,
Veiling beneath that radiant form of woman
All that is insupportable in thee
Of light, and love, and immortality!
Sweet Benediction in the eternal curse!
Veil'd Glory of this lampless Universe!
Thou Moon beyond the clouds! Thou living Form
Among the Dead! Thou Star above the storm!
Thou Wonder, and thou Beauty, and thou Terror!
Thou Harmony of Nature's art! Thou Mirror
In whom, as in the splendour of the Sun,
All shapes look glorious which thou gazest on!"

"See where she stands! a mortal shape endued
With love, and life, and light, and deity;
The motion which may change but cannot die,
An image of some bright eternity;
A shadow of some golden dream; a splendour
Leaving the third sphere pilotless."

I do not know whether intentionally or not, but we have here assembled
some of the favourite symbols of the Virgin--the moon, the star, the
"_terribilis ut castrorum acies_" (Cant. vi. 10), and the mirror.

The third is a passage from Robert Browning, which appears to me to
sum up the moral ideal:--

"There is a vision in the heart of each,
Of justice, mercy, wisdom, tenderness
To wrong and pain, and knowledge of their cure;
And these embodied in a woman's form
That best transmits them pure as first received
From God above her to mankind below!"




II. SYMBOLS AND ATTRIBUTES OF THE VIRGIN.


That which the genius of the greatest of painters only once expressed,
we must not look to find in his predecessors, who saw only partial
glimpses of the union of the divine and human in the feminine form;
still less in his degenerate successors, who never beheld it at all.

The difficulty of fully expressing this complex ideal, and the
allegorical spirit of the time, first suggested the expedient of
placing round the figure of the glorified Virgin certain accessory
symbols, which should assist the artist to express, and the observer
to comprehend, what seemed beyond the power of art to portray;--a
language of metaphor then understood, and which we also must
understand if we would seize the complete theological idea intended
to be conveyed.

I shall begin with those symbols which are borrowed from the Litanies
of the Virgin, and from certain texts of the Canticles, in all ages
of the Church applied to her; symbols which, in the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries, frequently accompany those representations
which set forth her Glorification or Predestination; and, in the
seventeenth, are introduced into the "Immaculate Conception."

1. The Sun and the Moon.--"Electa ut Sol, pulchra ut Luna," is one
of the texts of the Canticles applied to Mary; and also in a passage
of the Revelation, "_A woman clothed with the sun, having the moon
under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars._" Hence the
radiance of the sun above her head, and the crescent moon beneath her
feet. From inevitable association the crescent moon suggests the
idea of her perpetual chastity; but in this sense it would be a pagan
rather than a Christian attribute.

2. The STAR.--This attribute, often embroidered in front of the veil
of the Virgin or on the right shoulder of her blue mantle, has become
almost as a badge from which several well-known pictures derive
their title, "La Madonna della Stella." It is in the first place
an attribute alluding to the most beautiful and expressive of her
many titles:--"_Stella Maris_" Star of the Sea,[1] which is one
interpretation of her Jewish name, _Miriam_: but she is also "_Stella
Jacobi_," the Star of Jacob; "_Stella Matutina_," the Morning Star;
"_Stella non Erratica_," the Fixed Star. When, instead of the single
star on her veil or mantle, she has the crown of twelve stars, the
allusion is to the text of the Apocalypse already quoted, and the
number of stars is in allusion to the number of the Apostles.[2]

[Footnote 1:
"Ave Maris Stella
Dei Mater alma!" &c.]

[Footnote 2: "In capite inquit ejus corona stellarum duodecim; quidni
coronent sidera quam sol vestit?"--_St. Bernard_.]

3. The LILY.--"_I am the rose of Sharon, and lily of the valleys._"
(Cant. ii. 1, 2.) As the general emblem of purity, the lily is
introduced into the Annunciation, where it ought to be without
stamens: and in the enthroned Madonnas it is frequently placed in
the hands of attendant angels, more particularly in the Florentine
Madonnas; the lily, as the emblem of their patroness, being chosen
by the citizens as the _device_ of the city. For the same reason it
became that of the French monarchy. Thorns are sometimes interlaced
with the lily, to express the "_Lilium inter Spinas_." (Cant. ii. 2.)

4. The ROSE.--She is the rose of Sharon, as well as the lily of the
valley; and as an emblem of love and beauty, the rose is especially
dedicated to her. The plantation or garden of roses[1] is often
introduced; sometimes it forms the background of the picture. There
is a most beautiful example in a Madonna by Cesare di Sesto (Milan,
Brera); and another, "the Madonna of the Rose Bush," by Martin Schoen.
(Cathedral, Colmar.)

[Footnote 1: Quasi plantatio rosae in Jericho.]

5. The ENCLOSED GARDEN (_Hortus conclusus_) is an image borrowed,
like many others, from the Song of Solomon. (Cant. iv. 12.) I have
seen this enclosed garden very significantly placed in the background
of the Annunciation, and in pictures of the Immaculate Conception.
Sometimes the enclosure is formed of a treillage or hedge of roses, as
in a beautiful Virgin by Francia.[1] Sometimes it is merely formed of
stakes or palisades, as In some of the prints by Albert Durer.

[Footnote 1: Munich Gal.; another by Antonio da Negroponte in the
San Francesco della Vigna at Venice, is also an instance of this
significant background.]

The WELL always full; the FOUNTAIN forever sealed; the TOWER of David;
the TEMPLE of Solomon; the CITY of David (_Civitas sancti_), (Cant iv.
4. 12, 15); all these are attributes borrowed from the Canticles, and
are introduced into pictures and stained glass.

6. The PORTA CLAITSA, the Closed Gate, is another metaphor, taken from
the prophecy of Ezekiel (xliv. 4).

7. The CEDAR of Lebanon (_Cedrus exaliata_, "exalted as a cedar in
Lebanon"), because of its height, its incorruptible substance,
its perfume, and the healing virtues attributed to it in the East,
expresses the greatness, the beauty, the goodness of Mary.

The victorious PALM, the Plantain "far spreading," and the Cypress
pointing to heaven, are also emblems of the Virgin.

The OLIVE, as a sign of peace, hope, and abundance, is also a fitting
emblem of the graces of Mary.[1]

[Footnote 1: Quasi oliva speciosa in campis.]

8. The Stem of Jesse (Isa. xi. 1), figured as a green branch entwined
with flowers, is also very significant.

9. The MIRROR (_Specula sine macula_) is a metaphor borrowed from the
Book of Wisdom (vii, 25). We meet with it in some of the late pictures
of the Immaculate Conception.

10. The SEALED BOOK is also a symbol often placed in the hands of the
Virgin in a mystical Annunciation, and sufficiently significant. The
allusion is to the text, "In that book were all my members written;"
and also to the text in Isaiah (xxix. 11, 12), in which he describes
the vision of the book that was sealed, and could be read neither by
the learned nor the unlearned.

11. "The Bush which burned and was not consumed," is introduced, with
a mystical significance, into an Annunciation by Titian.

*       *       *       *       *

Besides these symbols, which have a mystic and sacred significance,
and are applicable to the Virgin only, certain attributes and
accessories are introduced into pictures of the Madonna and Child,
which are capable of a more general interpretation.

1. The GLOBE, as the emblem of sovereignty, was very early placed in
the hand of the divine Child. When the globe is under the feet of
the Madonna and encircled by a serpent, as in some later pictures,
it figures our Redemption; her triumph over a fallen world--fallen
through sin.

2. The SERPENT is the general emblem of Sin or Satan; but under the
feet of the Virgin it has a peculiar significance. She has generally
her foot on the head of the reptile. "SHE shall bruise thy head," as
it is interpreted in the Roman Catholic Church.[1]

[Footnote 1: _Ipsa_ conteret caput tuum.]

3. The APPLE, which of all the attributes is the most common,
signifies the fall of man, which made Redemption necessary. It is
sometimes placed in the hands of the Child; but when in the hand of
the Mother, she is then designated as the second Eve.[1]

[Footnote 1: Mors per Evam: vita per Mariam.]

4. The POMEGRANATE, with the seeds displayed, was the ancient emblem
of hope, and more particularly of religious hope. It is often placed
in the hands of the Child, who sometimes presents it to his Mother.

Other fruits and flowers, always beautiful accessories, are frequently
introduced according to the taste of the artist. But fruits in a
general sense signified "the fruits of the Spirit--joy, peace, love;"
and flowers were consecrated to the Virgin: hence we yet see them
placed before her as offerings.

5. EARS OF WHEAT in the hand of the Infant (as in a lovely little
Madonna by Ludovico Caracci)[1] figured the bread in the Eucharist,
and GRAPES the wine.

[Footnote 1: Lansdowne Collection. There was another exactly similar
in the collection of Mr. Rogers.]

6. The BOOK.--In the hand of the Infant Christ, the book is the Gospel
in a general sense, or it is the Book of Wisdom. In the hand of the
Madonna, it may have one of two meanings. When open, or when she has
her finger between the leaves, or when the Child is turning over the
pages, then it is the Book of Wisdom, and is always supposed to be
open at the seventh chapter. When the book is clasped or sealed, it is
a mystical symbol of the Virgin herself, as I have already explained.

7. The DOVE, as the received emblem of the Holy Spirit, is properly
placed above, as hovering over the Virgin. There is an exception to
this rule in a very interesting picture in the Louvre, where the
Holy Dove (with the _nimbus_) is placed at the feet of the Child.[1]
This is so unusual, and so contrary to all the received proprieties
of religious art, that I think the _nimbus_ may have been added
afterwards.

[Footnote 1: The Virgin has the air of a gipsy. (Louvre, 515.)]

The seven doves round the head of the Virgin signify the seven gifts
of the Spirit. These characterize her as personified Wisdom--the Mater
Sapientiae.

Doves placed near Mary when she is reading, or at work in the temple,
are expressive of her gentleness and tenderness.

8. BIRDS.--The bird in the Egyptian hieroglyphics signified the soul
of man. In the very ancient pictures there can be no doubt, I think,
that the bird in the hand of Christ figured the soul, or the spiritual
as opposed to the material. But, in the later pictures, the original
meaning being lost, birds became mere ornamental accessories, or
playthings. Sometimes it is a parrot from the East, sometimes a
partridge (the partridge is frequent in the Venetian pictures):
sometimes a goldfinch, as in Raphael's Madonna _del Cardellino_. In a
Madonna by Guercino, the Mother holds a bird perched on her hand, and
the Child, with a most _naive_ infantine expression, shrinks back from
it.[1] In a picture by Baroccio, he holds it up before a cat (Nat.
Gal. 29), so completely were the original symbolism and all the
religious proprieties of art at this time set aside.

[Footnote 1: It was in the collection of Mr. Rogers.]

Other animals are occasionally introduced. Extremely offensive are
the apes when admitted into devotional pictures. We have associations
with the animal as a mockery of the human, which render it a very
disagreeable accessory. It appears that, in the sixteenth century,
it became the fashion to keep apes as pets, and every reader of
Vasari will remember the frequent mention of these animals as pets
and favourites of the artists. Thus only can I account for the
introduction of the ape, particularly in the Ferrarese pictures.
Bassano's dog, Baroccio's cat, are often introduced. In a famous
picture by Titian, "La Vierge au Lapin," we have the rabbit. (Louvre.)
The introduction of these and other animals marks the decline of
religious art.

Certain women of the Old Testament are regarded as especial types of
the Virgin.

EVE. Mary is regarded as the second Eve, because, through her, came
the promised Redemption. She bruised the head of the Serpent. The Tree
of Life, the Fall, or Eve holding the Apple, are constantly introduced
allusively in the Madonna pictures, as ornaments of her throne, or
on the predella of an altar-piece, representing the Annunciation, the
Nativity, or the Coronation.

RACHEL figures as the ideal of contemplative life.

RUTH, as the ancestress of David.

ABISHAG, as "the Virgin who was brought to the King." (I Kings i. 1.)

BATHSHEBA, because she sat upon a throne on the right hand of her Son.

JUDITH and ESTHER, as having redeemed their people, and brought
deliverance to Israel. It is because of their typical character, as
emblems of the Virgin, that these Jewish heroines so often figure in
the religious pictures.[1]

[Footnote 1: The artistic treatment of these characters as types of
the Virgin, will be found in the fourth series of "Legendary Art."]

In his "Paradiso" (c. xxxii.), Dante represents Eve, Rachel, Sara,
Ruth, Judith, as seated at the feet of the Virgin Mary, beneath her
throne in heaven; and next to Rachel, by a refinement of spiritual and
poetical gallantry, he has placed his Beatrice.

In the beautiful frescoes of the church of St. Apollinaris at Remagen,
these Hebrew women stand together in a group below the throne of the
Virgin.

Of the Prophets and the Sibyls who attend on Christ in his character
of the Messiah or Redeemer, I shall have much to say, when describing
the artistic treatment of the history and character of Our Lord.
Those of the prophets who are supposed to refer more particularly to
the Incarnation, properly attend on the Virgin and Child; but in the
ancient altar-pieces, they are not placed within the same frame, nor
are they grouped immediately round her throne, but form the outer
accessories, or are treated separately as symbolical.

First, MOSES, because he beheld the burning bush, "which burned and
was not consumed." He is generally in the act of removing his sandals.

AARON, because his rod blossomed miraculously.

GIDEON, on whose fleece descended the dew of heaven, while all was
dry around.

DANIEL, who beheld the stone which was cut out without hands, and
became a great mountain, filling the earth. (ch. ii. 45.)

DAVID, as prophet and ancestor. "Listen, O daughter, and incline thine
ear."

ISAIAH, "Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son."

EZEKIEL, "This gate shall be shut." (ch. xliv. 2.)

Certain of these personages, Moses, Aaron, Gideon, Daniel, Ezekiel,
are not merely accessories and attendant figures, but in a manner
attributes, as expressing the character of the Virgin. Thus in many
instances, we find the prophetical personages altogether omitted, and
we have simply the attribute figuring the prophecy itself, the burning
bush, the rod, the dewy fleece, &c.

The Sibyls are sometimes introduced alternately with the Prophets. In
general, if there be only two, they are the Tiburtina, who showed the
vision to Augustus, and the Cumean Sibyl who foretold the birth of our
Saviour. The Sibyls were much the fashion in the classic times of the
sixteenth century; Michael Angelo and Raphael have left us consummate
examples.

But I must repeat that the full consideration of the Prophets and
Sibyls as accessories belongs to another department of sacred art, and
they will find their place there.

The Evangelists frequently, and sometimes one or more of the
Twelve Apostles, appear as accessories which assist the theological
conception. When other figures are introduced, they are generally
either the protecting saints of the country or locality, or the saints
of the Religious Order to whom the edifice belongs: or, where the
picture or window is an _ex-voto_, we find the patron saints of the
confraternity, or of the donor or votary who has dedicated it.

Angels seated at the feet of the Madonna and playing on musical
instruments, are most lovely and appropriate accessories, for the
choral angels are always around her in heaven, and on earth she is
the especial patroness of music and minstrelsy.[1] Her delegate
Cecilia patronized _sacred_ music; but _all_ music and musicians,
all minstrels, and all who plied the "gaye science," were under the
protection of Mary. When the angels are singing from their music
books, and others are accompanying them with lutes and viols, the
song is not always supposed to be the same. In a Nativity they sing
the "Gloria in excelsis Deo;" in a Coronation, the "Regina Coeli;"
in an enthroned Madonna with votaries, the "Salve Regina, Mater
Misericordiae!" in a pastoral Madonna and Child it may be the "Alma
Mater Redemptoris."

[Footnote 1: The picture by Lo Spagna, lately added to our National
Gallery, is a beautiful example.]

*       *       *       *       *

In all the most ancient devotional effigies (those in the catacombs
and the old mosaics), the Virgin appears as a majestic woman of mature
age. In those subjects taken from her history which precede her return
from Egypt, and in the Holy Families, she should appear as a young
maiden from fifteen to seventeen years old.

In the subjects taken from her history which follow the baptism of our
Lord, she should appear as a matron between forty and fifty, but still
of a sweet and gracious aspect. When Michael Angelo was reproached
with representing his Mater Dolorosa much too young, he replied that
the perfect virtue and serenity of the character of Mary would have
preserved her beauty and youthful appearance long beyond the usual
period.[1]

[Footnote 1: The group in St. Peter's, Rome.]

Because some of the Greek pictures and carved images had become black
through extreme age, it was argued by certain devout writers, that the
Virgin herself must have been of a very dark complexion; and in favour
of this idea they quoted this text from the Canticles, "I am black,
but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem." But others say that her
complexion had become black only during her sojourn in Egypt. At all
events, though the blackness of these antique images was supposed to
enhance their sanctity, it has never been imitated in the fine arts,
and it is quite contrary to the description of Nicephorus, which is
the most ancient authority, and that which is followed in the Greek
school.

The proper dress of the Virgin is a close red tunic, with long
sleeves;[1] and over this a blue robe or mantle. In the early
pictures, the colours are pale and delicate. Her head ought to be
veiled. The fathers of the primeval Church, particularly Tertullian,
attach great importance to the decent veil worn by Christian maidens;
and in all the early pictures the Virgin is veiled. The enthroned
Virgin, unveiled, with long tresses falling down on either side,
was an innovation introduced about the end of the fifteenth century;
commencing, I think, with the Milanese, and thence adopted in the
German schools and those of Northern Italy. The German Madonnas of
Albert Durer's time have often magnificent and luxuriant hair, curling
in ringlets, or descending to the waist in rich waves, and always
fair. Dark-haired Madonnas appear first in the Spanish and later
Italian schools.

[Footnote 1: In a famous Pieta by Raphael, engraved by Marc Antonio,
the Virgin, standing by the dead form of her Son, has the right arm
apparently bare; in the repetition of the subject it is clothed with
a full sleeve, the impropriety being corrected. The first is, however,
the most perfect and most precious as a work of art.--_Bartsch_, xiv.
34, 35.]

In the historical pictures, her dress is very simple; but in those
devotional figures which represent her as queen of heaven, she wears a
splendid crown, sometimes of jewels interwoven with lilies and roses.
The crown is often the sovereign crown of the country in which the
picture is placed: thus, in the Papal States, she often wears the
triple tiara: in Austria, the imperial diadem. Her blue tunic is
richly embroidered with gold and gems, or lined with ermine, or stuff
of various colours, in accordance with a text of Scripture: "The
King's daughter is all glorious within; her clothing is of wrought
gold. She shall be brought unto the King in a vesture of needlework."
(Ps. xlv. 13.) In the Immaculate Conception, and in the Assumption,
her tunic should be plain white, or white spangled with golden stars.
In the subjects relating to the Passion, and after the Crucifixion,
the dress of the Virgin should be violet or gray. These proprieties,
however, are not always attended to.

In the early pictures which represent her as nursing the divine Infant
(the subject called the _Vergine Lattante_), the utmost care is taken
to veil the bust as much as possible. In the Spanish school the most
vigilant censorship was exercised over all sacred pictures, and, with
regard to the figures of the Virgin, the utmost decorum was required.
"What," says Pacheco, "can be more foreign to the respect which we owe
to our Lady the Virgin, than to paint her sitting down with one of her
knees placed over the other, and often with her sacred feet uncovered
and naked? Let thanks be given to the Holy Inquisition, which commands
that this liberty should be corrected." For this reason, perhaps, we
seldom see the feet of the Virgin in Spanish pictures.[1] Carducho
speaks more particularly on the impropriety of painting the Virgin
unshod, "since it is manifest that, our Lady was in the habit of
wearing shoes, as is proved by the much venerated relic of one of them
from her divine feet at Burgos."

[Footnote 1: Or in any of the old pictures till the seventeenth
century "Tandis que Dieu est toujours montre pieds nus, lui qui est
descendu a terre et a pris notre humanite, Marie au contraire est
constamment representee les pieds perdus dans les plis trainants,
nombreux et legers de sa robe virginale; elle, qui est elevee au
dessus de la terre et rapprochee de Dieu par sa purete. Dieu montre
par ses pieds nus qu'il a pris le corps de l'homme; Marie fait
comprendre en les cachant qu'elle participe de la spiritualite de
Dieu."]

The Child in her arms is always, in the Greek and early pictures,
clothed in a little tunic, generally white. In the fifteenth century
he first appears partly, and then wholly, undraped. Joseph, as the
earthly _sposo_, wears the saffron-coloured mantle over a gray tunic.
In the later schools of art these significant colours are often
varied, and sometimes wholly dispensed with.