St. John.

Lat.Sanctus Luca.Ital.San Luca.Fr.Saint Luc. (Oct. 18.)

Of the real history of St. Luke we know very little. He was not an apostle; and, like St. Mark, appears to have been converted after the ascension. He was a beloved disciple of St. Paul, whom he accompanied to Rome, and remained with his master and teacher till the last. It is related, that, after the martyrdom of St. Peter and St. Paul, he preached the Gospel in Greece and Egypt; but whether he died a natural death, or suffered martyrdom, does not seem clear. The Greek traditions represent him as dying in peace, and his death was thus figured on the ancient doors of San Paolo at Rome. Others affirm that he was crucified at Patras with St. Andrew.

There is some ground for the supposition that Luke was a physician. (Col. iv. 14.) But the pretty legend which makes him a painter, and represents him as painting the portrait of the Virgin Mary, is unsupported by any of the earlier traditions. It is of Greek origin, still universally received by the Greek Church, which considers painting a religious art, and numbers in its calendar of saints a long list of painters, as well as poets, musicians, and physicians. ‘Les Grecs,’ says Didron, ‘semblent avoir canonisé des chrétiens uniquement parce qu’ils s’occupaient de soulager le corps ou de charmer l’esprit.’ In the west ofEurope, the legend which represents St. Luke as a painter can be traced no higher than the tenth century; the Greek painters introduced it; and a rude drawing of the Virgin discovered in the catacombs, with an inscription purporting that it was ‘one of seven painted by Luca,’ confirmed the popular belief that St. Luke the evangelist was meant. Thus originated the fame of innumerable Virgins of peculiar sanctity, all attributed to his hand, and regarded with extreme veneration. Such ancient pictures are generally of Greek workmanship, and of a black complexion.[124]In the legend of St. Luke we are assured that he carried with him everywhere two portraits, painted by himself; one of our Saviour, and one of the Virgin; and that by means of these he converted many of the heathen, for not only did they perform great miracles, but all who looked on these bright and benign faces, which bore a striking resemblance to each other, were moved to admiration and devotion. It is also said, that St. Luke painted many portraits of the Virgin, delighting himself by repeating this gracious image; and in the church of Santa Maria in Via Lata, at Rome, they still show a little chapel in which, ‘as it hath been handed down from the first ages, St. Luke the Evangelist wrote, and painted the effigy of the Virgin-Mother of God.’

On the strength of this tradition, St. Luke has been chosen as the patron saint of painters. Academies of art are placed under his particular protection; their chapels are dedicated to him, and over the altar we see him in his charming and pious avocation, that of painting portraits of the Blessed Virgin for the consolation of the faithful.

The devotional figures of St. Luke, in his character of evangelist,represent him in general with his gospel and his attendant ox, winged or unwinged, as already described; but in Greek Art, and in those schools of Art which have been particularly under the Byzantine influence (as the early Venetian), we see St. Luke as evangelist young and beardless, holding the portrait of the Virgin as his attribute in one hand, and his gospel in the other. A beautiful figure of St. Luke as evangelist and painter is in the famous ‘Heures d’Anne de Bretagne.’[125]

In an engraving by Lucas v. Leyden, executed as it should seem in honour of his patron saint, St. Luke is seated on the back of his ox, writing the gospel; he wears a hood like an old professor, rests his book against the horns of the animal, and his inkstand is suspended on the bough of a tree. But separate devotional figures of him as patron are as rare as those of St. Matthew.

St. Luke painting the Virgin has been a frequent and favourite subject. The most famous of all is a picture in the Academy of St. Luke, at Rome, ascribed to Raphael. Here St. Luke, kneeling on a footstool before an easel, is busied painting the Virgin with the Child in her arms, who appears to him out of heaven sustained by clouds: behind St. Luke stands Raphael himself, looking on. Another of the same subject, a very small and beautiful picture, also ascribed to Raphael, is in the Grosvenor Gallery. In neither of these pictures is the treatment quite worthy of that great painter, wanting his delicacy both of sentiment and execution. There is a most curious and quaint example in the Munich Gallery, attributed to Van Eyck: here the Virgin, seated under a rich Gothic canopy, holds on her lap the Infant Christ, in a most stiff attitude; St. Luke, kneeling on one knee, is taking her likeness. There is another, similar in style, by Aldegraef, in the Vienna Gallery. Carlo Maratti represents St. Luke as presenting to the Virgin the picture he has painted of her. St. Luke painting the Madonna and Child, while an angel is grinding his colours, I remember in the Aguado Gallery; a late Spanish picture.[126]

St. Mark attended by St. Gregory.St. Luke painting the Virgin.

Lat.Sanctus Johannes.Gr.St. John Theologos, or the Divine.Ital.San Giovanni Evangelista.Fr.Saint Jean; Messire Saint Jehan.Ger.Der Heilige Johann. (Dec. 27,A.D.99.)

Of St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke, so little is certainly known, that we have no data on which to found an individual portrait; therefore any representation of them as venerable and inspired teachers suffices to the fancy: but it is quite otherwise with St. John, the most distinguished of the evangelists, and the most beloved of the disciples of our Lord. Of him sufficient is known to convey a distinct impression of his personal character, and an idea of what his personal appearance may have been, supposing this outward semblance to have harmonised with the inward being.

He was the son of the fisherman Zebedee, and, with his brother James, among the first followers of the Saviour. He is emphatically called ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved;’ a preference which he merited, not only from the extreme purity of his life and character, but from his devoted and affectionate nature. He appears to have been at all times the constant companion of his divine Lord; and his life, while the Saviour was on earth, inseparable from His. In all the memorable circumstances recorded in the Gospel he was a party, or at least present. He witnessed the glory of the transfiguration; he leaned on the bosom of Jesus at the last supper; he stood by the cross in the hour of agony; he laid the body of his crucified Master in the sepulchre. After the death of the Virgin Mother, who had been confided to his care, he went about Judæa, preaching the Gospel with St. Peter. He then travelled into Asia Minor, where he founded the Seven Churches, and resided principally at Ephesus. During the persecution of the Christians under Domitian, St. John was sent in fetters to Rome; and, according to a tradition generally received in the Roman Church, he was cast into a cauldron of boiling oil, but was miraculously preserved, and ‘came out of it as out of a refreshing bath.’ He was then accused of magic, and exiled to the island of Patmos, in the Ægean Sea, where he is said to have written his Revelation. After the death of theEmperor Domitian he was released, and returned to his church at Ephesus; and for the use of the Christians there he is said to have written his gospel, at the age of ninety. A few years afterwards he died in that city, being nearly a century old. All the incidents here touched upon occur frequently as subjects of art, but most of them belong properly to the life of Christ.

The personal character of St. John, at once attractive and picturesque, has rendered him popular as a patron saint, and devotional pictures of him are far more numerous than of any of the other evangelists.

He is represented in one of his three characters: 1, as evangelist; 2, as apostle; 3, as prophet; or the three are combined in one figure.

1. Of the early eagle symbol, I have spoken at length.

In Greek Art, whether as apostle or evangelist, St. John is always an aged man with white hair, and a venerable beard descending to his breast; and by the earlier Latin painters, where he figures as evangelist only, not as apostle, this type has been adhered to; but the later painters set it aside, and St. John the Evangelist, nearly a century old, has all the attributes of the youthful apostle. He is beardless, with light curling hair, and eyes gazing upwards in a rapture of inspiration: he is sometimes seated with his pen and his book, sometimes standing; the attendant eagle always near him, and frequently holding the pen or inkhorn in his beak.

In some of the old prints and pictures, which represent St. John as writing the gospel, his eyes are turned on the Virgin with the Infant Christ in her arms, who appear as a vision in the skies above; underneath, or on his book, is inscribed,—‘The Word was made flesh,’ or some other text of the same import. The eagle at his side has sometimes the nimbus or a crown of stars,[127]and is then perhaps intended to figure the Holy Ghost.

I remember an instance in which the devil, intent on intercepting the message of reconcilement and ‘goodwill towards men,’ which was destined to destroy his empire on earth, appears behind St. John, and is oversetting the ink upon the pages; another, in which he is stealing away the inkhorn.

60 St. John (Hans Hemling)

2. As one of the series of apostles, St. John is always, in Western Art, young, or in the prime of life; with little or no beard; flowing or curling hair, generally of a pale brown or golden hue, to express the delicacy of his nature; and in his countenance an expression of benignity and candour. His drapery is, or ought to be, red, with a blue or green tunic. He bears in his hand the sacramental cup, from which a serpent is seen to issue. St. Isidore relates that, at Rome, an attempt was made to poison St. John in the cup of the sacrament: he drank of the same and administered it to the communicants without injury, the poison having by a miracle issued from the cup in the form of a serpent, while the hired assassin fell down dead at his feet. According to another version of this story, the poisoned cup was administered by order of the Emperor Domitian. According to a third version, Aristodemus, the high-priest of Diana, at Ephesus, defied him to drink of the poisoned chalice, as a test of the truth of his mission; St. John drank unharmed,—the priest fell dead. Others say, and this seems the more probable interpretation, that the cup in the hand of St. John alludes to the reply given by our Saviour, when the mother of James and John requested for her sons the place of honour in heaven,—‘Ye shall drink indeed of my cup.’ As in other instances, the legend was invented to explain the symbol. When the cup has the consecrated wafer instead of the serpent, it signifies the institution of the Eucharist.

Some of the old German representations of St. John are of singular beauty: for example, one byHans Hemling, one byIsaac von Melem,[128]standing figures; simple, graceful, majestic; in the prime of youth, with a charming expression of devotion in the heads: both hold thesacramental cup with the serpent; no eagle; therefore St. John is here to be considered as the apostle only: when, with the cup, the eagle is placed by his side, he is represented in the double character of apostle and evangelist (61).

61 St. John (Raphael)

In the early Siena school, and in some old illuminations, I have seen St. John carrying in his hand a radiant circle, inscribed ‘In primo est verbum,’ and within the circle an eagle with outspread wings: but this is uncommon.

3. St. John as the prophet, the writer of the Revelation, is usually an aged man, with a white flowing beard, seated in a rocky desert; the sea in the distance, or flowing round him, to represent the island of Patmos; the eagle at his side. In the old frescoes, and the illuminated MSS. of the Apocalypse, this is the usual representation.

Some examples of the ideal and devotional figures of St. John, as evangelist and prophet, will give an idea of the variety of treatment in this favourite subject:—

1. Ancient Greek. St. John, with the head of an eagle and large wings, the figure fully draped, is soaring upwards. In such representations the inscription is usually ‘Quasi aquila ascendet et avolabit’ (‘Behold, he shall come up and fly as the eagle.’ Jer. xlix. 22).

2. Perugino. St. John as an aged man, with long grey beard and flowing hair, attended by a black eagle, looking up at the Madonna in glory.[129]

3. Raphael (?). St. John, young and beautiful, mounted on the backof an eagle, and soaring heavenwards: in one hand he holds a tablet, in the other a pen: sea and land below. This treatment, which recalls the antique Jupiter bestriding his eagle, appears to me at once too theatrical and too commonplace for Raphael.[130]

62 St. John

4. Correggio. St. John seated writing his gospel; the eagle at his feet is pluming his wing: inscribed ‘Altius cæteris Dei patefecit arcana.’ One of the series of Evangelists in the Duomo of Parma—wonderfully beautiful.

5. Domenichino. St. John, full length, life size; young and beautiful, in an ecstasy of inspiration, and sustained by two angels; the eagle at his feet: formerly in the Giustiniani Gallery;[131]—finer, I think, than the St. John in Sant’ Andrea. Another, half length, a scroll in his hand, looking upwards as one to whom the glory of the heavens had been opened;—you see it reflected in his eyes,—while love, wonder, devotion, beam from his beautiful face and parted lips: behind him hovers the attendant eagle, holding the pen in his beak; near him is the chalice, with the serpent; so that here he is in his double character of apostle and evangelist.[132]Domenichino excelled in St. Johns, as Guido in Magdalenes; perhaps the most beautiful of all is that in the Brera, at Milan, where St. John bends on one knee at the foot of the throne of the Madonna and Child, his pen in one hand, the other pressed to his bosom, and looking up to them with an air of ecstatic inspiration. Two little angels, or ratheramoretti, are in attendance: one has his arms round the neck of the eagle, sporting with it; the other holds up the cup and the serpent. Every detail is composed and painted to admiration; but this is the artistic and picturesque, not the religious, version of the subject.

St. John is frequently represented with St. Peter, because, after the ascension, they taught and acted in concert. In such pictures, the contrast between the fiery resolve and sturdy, rugged grandeur which is given to St. Peter, and the refinement, mildness, and personal grace of St. John, produces a fine effect: as in Albert Dürer’s picture,[133]where John is holding open the Gospel, and Peter apparently reading it; two grand and simple figures, filling the mind as we gaze upon them. As this picture was paintedafterAlbert Dürer became a Protestant, I have thought it possible that he might have had some particular meaning in thus making Peter study the Gospel of John. At all events, Albert Dürer was quite capable of such an intention; and, whether intended or not, the picture may be, and has been, thus interpreted. The prophets and the poets often say more than they intended, for their light was for others more than for themselves: so also the great painters—the Raphaels and Albert Dürers—prophets and poets in their way. When I have heard certain critics ridiculed because they found more in the productions of a Shakspeare or a Raphael than the poet or painter himself ever perceived or ‘intended,’ such ridicule has appeared to me in the highest degree presumptuous and absurd. The true artist ‘feels that he is greater than he knows.’ In giving form or utterance to the soul within him, does he account to himself for all the world of thoughts his work will excite in the minds of others? Is its significance to be circumscribed either by the intention and the knowledge of the poet, or the comprehension of the age in which he lived? That is the characteristic of the second-rate, self-conscious poets or painters, whom we read or study because they reflect to us a particular meaning—a particular period,—but not of the Homers and Shakspeares, the Raphaels and Albert Dürers;theyspeak to all times, toallmen, with a suggestive significance, widening, deepening with every successive generation; and to measure their depth of meaning by their ownintention, or by the comprehension of their own or any one generation, what is it but to measure the star of heaven by its apparent magnitude?—an inch rule will do that!

But to return from this digression. In devotional pictures we oftensee St. John the Evangelist and St. John the Baptist standing together; or on each side of Christ, or of the Madonna and Child. There is a peculiar propriety and significance in this companionship: both are, then, to be considered as prophets; they were, besides, kinsmen, and bore the same name; and St. John the Evangelist was the disciple of John the Baptist before he was called by Christ. Here, again, the contrast between the dark, emaciated, hairy prophet of the wilderness, and the graceful dignity of the youthful apostle, has a striking effect. An example at hand is the bronze bas-relief on the tomb of Henry VII.[134]Madonna pictures, in which the two St. Johns stand before her throne, occur frequently. I remember, also, a marble group of the Virgin and Child, in which the two St. Johns, as infants, are playing at her feet, one with his eagle, the other with his reed cross.[135]

As one who bore the most direct testimony to the Incarnation, St. John is often introduced into Madonna pictures, and pictures of the Nativity; but in the later schools only. In these instances he points significantly to the Child, and the sacramental cup and wafer is either in his hand or at his feet, or borne by an angel.

The historical and dramatic subjects in which St. John figures as a principal personage are very numerous. As the scriptural scenes belong properly to the life of Christ, I shall confine myself here to some observations on the manner in which St. John is introduced and treated in such pictures. In general he is to be distinguished from the other apostles by his youth and beauty, and flowing hair; and by being placed nearest to Christ as the most beloved of his disciples.

‘The mother of James and John imploring from our Saviour the highest place in heaven for her two sons.’ (Matt. xx. 21): a picture by Bonifazio, in the Borghese Gallery, beautiful both in sentiment and colour. There is another example by Paul Veronese; and another, by Tintoretto, was in the Coesvelt Gallery. I must observe that, except in Venetian pictures, I have not met with this incident as a separate subject.

In the last supper, Peter is generally on the right of Christ, andSt. John on the left: he leans his head down on the bosom of Christ (this is always the attitude in the oldest pictures); or he leans towards Christ, who places his hand upon his shoulder, drawing him towards him with an expression of tenderness: this is the action in the fresco by Raphael lately discovered at Florence. But I must reserve the full consideration of this subject for another place.

Where, instead of the last supper, our Saviour is represented as administering the Eucharist, St. John is seen on his right hand, bearing the cup.

In the crucifixion, when treated as a religious rather than an historical subject, St. John stands on the left of the Cross, and the Virgin on the right; both in attitudes of the profoundest grief and adoration mingled. In general themotifof this sacred subject does not vary; but I remember examples, in which St. John is seen trampling a Jew under his feet; on the other side the Virgin tramples on a veiled woman, signifying the old law, the synagogue, as opposed to the Christian Church, of which the Virgin was the received symbol.

When the crucifixion is asceneor action, not amystery, then St. John is beheld afar off, with the women who followed their divine Master to Calvary.

St. John and the Virgin Mary returning from the crucifixion: he appears to be sustaining her slow and fainting steps. I have only once met with this beautiful subject, in a picture by Zurbaran, in the Munich Gallery.

In the descent from the Cross, St. John is a chief actor; he generally sustains the head of the Saviour, and is distinguished by an expression of extreme sorrow and tenderness. In the entombment he is sometimes one of the bearers, sometimes he follows lamenting. In a print of the entombment after Andrea Mantegna, he is not only weeping and wringing his hands as usual, but absolutely crying aloud with the most exaggerated expression of anguish. In pictures of the descent of the Holy Ghost, St. John is usually a conspicuous figure, and in the foreground. In the assumption of the Virgin, he is also conspicuous, generally in front, as the pendant to St. Peter, and gazing upwards with ecstatic faith and devotion.

Of course there is great variety in these representations: the laterpainters thought less of individual character and significant propriety of arrangement than of artistic grouping; therefore the above remarks have reference to the early painters only.

In the scenes taken from the Acts, St. John is always in companionship with St. Peter, and becomes the secondary figure.

63 St. John (Lucas v. Leyden)

St. John writing his Revelation in the island of Patmos is a subject which frequently occurs in MSS. of the Apocalypse, and in the chapels dedicated to St. John. Themotifis generally the same in all; we have a desert island, with the sea in the distance, or flowing round it; St. John, seated on a rock or under a tree, is in the act of writing; or he is looking up to heaven, where the ‘Woman crowned with stars,’ or ‘the Woman fleeing from the dragon,’ appears as in his vision.[136](Rev. xii.) Or he beholds St. Michael, armed, cast down the dragon in human form; he has the eagle and book, and looks up at the Virgin, as in a picture by Ambrogio Figino.[137]The eagle is always in attendance as the symbol of inspiration in a general sense; when represented with a diadem, or glory, as in some very early examples, it is a symbol of the Holy Ghost, which, among the Jews, was figured by the eagle.

The subjects from the legendary life of St. John are exceedingly interesting, but they are not easily recognised, and require particular attention; some are of frequent occurrence, others rarely met with.

1. Israel v. Meckenen. St. John instructing his disciples at Ephesus. (Acts iv. 37.) The scene is the interior of a Gothic church, the windows painted with heraldic emblazonments: St. John is seated expounding the Scriptures, and five disciples sit opposite to him withcoarse ugly faces, but most intent, expressive countenances; in the background, a large chest full of money.

2. Vatican, Chr. Mus. St. John drinking from the poisoned chalice; a man falls down dead at his feet, several figures look on with awe and astonishment: this is a frequent subject in the elder schools of art, and in the illuminated MSS. of the Gospel and Apocalypse: but I have never met with a representation later than the beginning of the fourteenth century.[138]

3. It is related by Clement of Alexandria, that when St. John was at Ephesus, and before he was exiled to Patmos, he had taken to his care a young man of promising qualities of person and mind. During his absence he left him under the spiritual guidance of a certain bishop; but, after a while, the youth took to evil courses, and, proceeding from one excess to another, he at length became the leader of a band of robbers and assassins who struck terror into the whole country. When St. John returned to Ephesus, he went to the bishop and demanded ‘the precious deposit he had left in his hands.’ At first the priest did not understand him; but when St. John explained the allusion to his adopted son, he cast down his eyes with sorrow and shame, and told of what had befallen. Then St. John rent his garments, and wept with a loud voice, and cried out, ‘Alas! alas! to what a guardian have I trusted our brother!’ And he called for a horse and rode towards the forest in which the robbers sojourned; and when the captain of the robbers beheld his old master and instructor, he turned and would have fled from his presence; but St. John, by the most fervent entreaties, prevailed on him to stop and listen to his words. After some conference, the robber, utterly subdued, burst into tears of penitence, imploring forgiveness; and while he spoke, he hid beneath his robe his right hand, which had been sullied with so many crimes; but St. John, falling on his knees before him, seized that blood-polluted hand, and kissed it, and bathed it with his tears; and he remained with his re-converted brother till he had, by prayers and encouraging words and affectionate exhortations, reconciled him with Heaven and with himself.

This beautiful legend is the subject of some old engravings, in which St. John is represented embracing the robber, who is weeping on his neck, having flung away his weapons. It has been, however, too rarely treated; I have never met with a picture of the subject; and yet it abounds in picturesque capabilities: the forest background—the contrast of youth and age—bright armour, flowing drapery, and the most striking and affecting moral, are here all combined.

4. Another very pretty apologue relating to St. John is sometimes included in a series of subjects from his life. Two young men, who had sold all their possessions to follow him, afterwards repented. He, perceiving their thoughts, sent them to gather pebbles and faggots, and, on their return, changed these into money and ingots of gold, saying to them, ‘Take back your riches and enjoy them on earth, as you regret having exchanged them for heaven!’ This story is represented on one of the windows of the Cathedral at Bourges. The two young men stand before St. John, with a heap of gold on one side, and a heap of stones and faggots on the other.

5. When St. John had sojourned in the island of Patmos a year and a day, he returned to his church at Ephesus; and as he approached the city, being received with great joy by the inhabitants, lo! a funeral procession came forth from the gates; and of those who followed weeping he inquired ‘who was dead?’ They said, ‘Drusiana.’ Now when he heard that name he was sad, for Drusiana had excelled in all good works, and he had formerly dwelt in her house; and he ordered them to set down the bier, and having prayed earnestly, God was pleased to restore Drusiana to life; she arose up, and the apostle went home with her and dwelt in her house.

This incident is the subject of a fine fresco, painted by Filippo Lippi, on the left-hand wall of the Strozzi Chapel at Florence. It has the forcible expression and dramatic spirit of the painter, with that characteristic want of elevated feeling in the countenances and in the general treatment which is apparent in all his works: the group in one corner, of a child starting from a dog, is admired for its truth; but, by disturbing the solemnity of the marvellous scene, it repels like a falsehood.

6. There is another beautiful and picturesque legend relating to St. John, of which I have never seen any representation; but it may,possibly, have occasioned the frequent introduction of a partridge into the pictures of sacred subjects, particularly in the Venetian School. St. John had a tame partridge, which he cherished much; and he amused himself with feeding and tending it. ‘A certain huntsman, passing by with his bow and arrows, was astonished to see the great apostle, so venerable for his age and sanctity, engaged in such an amusement. The apostle asked him if he always kept his bow bent? He answered, that would be the way to render it useless. “If,” replied St. John, “you unbend your bow to prevent its being useless, so do I thus unbend my mind for the same reason.”’

7. The subject entitled the Martyrdom of St. John represents his immersion in a cauldron of boiling oil, by order of the Emperor Domitian. According to the received tradition, this event took place outside the Latin gate at Rome; and on the spot stands the chapel of San Giovanniin Olio, commemorating his miraculous deliverance, which is painted in fresco on the walls. The subject forms, of course, one of a series of the life of St. John, and is occasionally met with in old prints and pictures; but it is uncommon. The treatment affords little variety; in Albert Dürer’s famous woodcut, St. John is sitting in a pot of boiling oil; one executioner is blowing the fire, another is pouring oil from a ladle on the saint’s head; a judge, probably intended for Domitian, is seated on a throne to the left, and there are numerous spectators. Padovanino painted this subject for the San Pietro at Venice; Rubens, with horrible truth of detail, for the altar-piece of St. John at Malines.

It is the martyrdom in the boiling oil which gives St. John the right to bear the palm, with which he is occasionally seen.

8. St. John, habited in priest’s garments, descends the steps of an altar into an open grave, in which he lays himself down, not in death, but in sleep, until the coming of Christ; ‘being reserved alive with Enoch and Elijah (who also knew not death), to preach against the Antichrist in the last days.’ This fanciful legend is founded on the following text: ‘Peter, seeing the disciple whom Jesus loved following, saith unto Jesus, Lord, and what shall this man do? Jesus saith unto him, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Then went this saying abroad among the brethren that that disciple should not die.’ (John xxi. 21, 22.)

The legend which supposes St. John reserved alive has not been generally received in the Church, and as a subject of painting it is very uncommon. It occurs in the Menologium Græcum,[139]where the grave into which St. John descends is, according to the legend, ‘fossa in crucis figuram’ (in the form of a cross). In a series of the deaths of the Apostles,[140]St. John is ascending from the grave; for, according to the Greek legend, St. John died without pain or change, and immediately rose again in bodily form, and ascended into heaven to rejoin Christ and the Virgin.

In a small and very curious picture which I saw at Rome,[141]forming part of a Predella, there is a tomb something like the Xanthian tombs in form: one end is open; St. John, with a long grey beard, is seen issuing from it, and, as he ascends, he is met by Christ, the Virgin, St. Peter, and St. Paul, who are descending from above; while figures below look up with astonishment. On the ancient doors of San Paolo he is lying in an open grave or sarcophagus.

Of the miracles performed by John after his death, two are singularly interesting in the history of Art; both have been treated in sculpture.

9. When the Empress Galla Placidia was returning from Constantinople to Ravenna with her two children (A.D.425), she encountered a terrible storm. In her fear and anguish she vowed a vow to St. John the Evangelist, and, being landed in safety, she dedicated to his honour a magnificent church. When the edifice was finished, she was extremely desirous of procuring some relics of the evangelist, wherewith to consecrate his sanctuary; but as it was not the manner of those days to exhume, and buy and sell, still less to steal, the bodies of holy men and martyrs, the desire of the pious empress remained unsatisfied. However, as it is related, St. John himself took pity upon her; for one night, as she prayed earnestly, he appeared to her in a vision; and when she threw herself at his feet to embrace and kiss them, he disappeared, leaving one of his slippers or sandals in her hand, which sandal was long preserved.

The antique church of Galla Placidia still exists at Ravenna, to keep alive, after the lapse of fourteen centuries, the memory of her dream, and of the condescension of the blessed apostle. Not much of the original building is left; the superb mosaics have all disappeared, except a few fragments, in which may be traced the storm at sea, and Galla Placidia making her vow. Over the principal porch, which is of white marble, in the Lombard style, and richly and elegantly ornamented, the miracle of the slipper is represented in two bas-reliefs, one above the other. The lower compartment, or lunette, represents a tabernacle, and within it an altar: St. John the Evangelist is seen offering incense; on the other side is Barbation, the confessor of the empress; she, prostrate at the feet of the apostle, seems to take off his sandal: on each side are six hovering angels bearing the implements of the mass. In the upper compartment, Galla Placidia is seen kneeling at the feet of Christ, and offering to him the sacred sandal, while the evangelist stands on one side, and Barbation on the other. These bas-reliefs are not older than the twelfth century, and are in excellent preservation: I should suppose, from the style of the grouping, that they were copied, or imitated, from the older mosaics, once in the interior of the church.

10. The other miracle has the rare interest of being English in its origin and in its representation. ‘King Edward the Confessor had, after Christ and the Virgin Mary, a special veneration for St. John the Evangelist. One day, returning from his church at Westminster, where he had been hearing mass in honour of the evangelist, he was accosted by a pilgrim, who asked of him an alms for the love of God and St. John. The king, who was ever merciful to the poor, immediately drew from his finger a ring, and, unknown to any one, delivered it to the beggar. When the king had reigned twenty-four years, it came to pass that two Englishmen, pilgrims, returning from the Holy Land to their own country, were met by one in the habit of a pilgrim, who asked of them concerning their country; and being told they were of England, he said to them, “When ye shall have arrived in your own country, go to King Edward, and salute him in my name: say to him, that I thank him for the alms which he bestowed on me in a certain street in Westminster; for there, on a certain day, as I begged of himan alms, he bestowed on me this ring, which till now I have preserved, and ye shall carry it back to him, saying that in six months from this time he shall quit the world, and come and remain with me for ever.” And the pilgrims, being astounded, said, “Who art thou, and where is thy dwelling-place?” And he answered, saying, “I am John the Evangelist. Edward, your king, is my friend, and for the sanctity of his life I hold him dear. Go now, therefore, deliver to him this message and this ring, and I will pray to God that ye may arrive safely in your own country.” When St. John had spoken thus, he delivered to them the ring, and vanished out of their sight. The pilgrims, praising and thanking the Lord for this glorious vision, went on their journey; and being arrived in England, they repaired to King Edward, and saluted him, and delivered the ring and the message, relating all truly. And the king received the news joyfully, and feasted the messengers royally. Then he set himself to prepare for his departure from this world. On the eve of the Nativity, in the year of our Lord 1066, he fell sick, and on the eve of the Epiphany following he died. The ring he gave to the Abbot of Westminster, to be for ever preserved among the relics there.’[142]

According to one account,[143]the pilgrims met the king near his palace at Waltham, at a place since calledHavering. The writer adds,—‘In allusion to this story, King Edward II. offered at his coronation a pound of gold made in the figure of a king holding a ring, and a mark of gold (8 oz.) made like to a pilgrim putting forth his hand to receive the ring.’ These must have been two little statuettes of gold.

The legend of King Edward and St. John the Evangelist is represented, with other legends of the same monarch, along the top of the screen of Edward the Confessor’s chapel. It is in three compartments. The first represents King Edward bestowing the ring on St. John in the disguise of a pilgrim; Westminster Abbey is seen behind. The second shows us the meeting of the pilgrims and St. John in Palestine; he holds what seems a palm. In the third the pilgrims deliver the ring to King Edward, who is seated at table. The sculpture is very rude; the figures disproportioned and ungraceful. They are supposed to be of the time of Henry VI.

The same legend was painted on one of the windows of Romford church, in Essex, but whether it still exists there I know not.[144]

Before I quit the subject of the Evangelists, it is worth while to observe that, in Greek Art, not only the Four Evangelists, but the six writers of the Acts and Epistles, are considered as a sacred series. In an ancient and beautiful MS. of theEpistole Canoniche, presented by the Queen of Cyprus to Pope Innocent VIII., they are thus represented, two and two together:—

St. Luke, with a very thoughtful, earnest countenance, holds a scroll, on which is written in Greek the commencement of the Acts, ‘The former treatise have I made, O Theophilus; &c.; and St. James, with a long, very earnest, and refined face, holds a single roll.

St. Peter, with a broad, coarse, powerful physiognomy, strongly characterised, holds two rolls; and St. John, with a long and very refined face, grey hair and beard, holds three rolls.

St. Jude, with a long white beard and very aquiline nose, holds one roll. St. Paul, bald in front, with long brown hair and beard, and a refined face, bears many rolls tied up together.

All the figures are on a gold ground, about six inches in height, very finely conceived, though, as is usual in Byzantine Art, formal and mechanical in execution. They look like small copies of very grand originals. The draperies are all classical; a pale violet or brown tunic and a white mantle, as in the old mosaics; the rolls in their hands corresponding with the number of their writings.

Back to Index Next