What study is more charming and restful than that of the angels as set forth in Holy Writ and the writings of the early Church? or more interesting to observe than the manner in which the artists of various nations and periods have expressed their ideas concerning these celestial messengers of God? What more fascinating, more stimulating to the imagination and further removed from the exhausting tension of our day and generation?

The Old Testament represents the angels as an innumerable host, discerning good and evil by reason of superior intelligence, and without passion doing the will of God. Having the power to slay, it is only exercised by the command of the Almighty, and not until after the Captivity do we read of evil angels who work wickedness among men. In fact, after this time the Hebrews seem to have added much to their angelic theory and faith which harmonizes with the religion of the Chaldeans, and with the teaching of Zoroaster.

The angels of the New Testament, while exempt from need and suffering, have sympathy with human sorrow, rejoice over repentance of sin, attend on prayerful souls, and conduct the spirits of the just to heaven when the earthly life is ended.

One may doubt, however, if from the Scriptural teaching concerning angels would emanate the universal interest in their representation, and the personal sympathy with it, which is commonly shared by all sorts and conditions of men, did they not cherish a belief—consciously or otherwise—that beings superior to themselves exist, and employ their superhuman powers for the blessing of our race, and for the welfare of individuals. Evidently Spenser felt this when he wrote:

“How oft do they their silver bowers leave,
And come to succor us that succor want?
How oft do they with golden pinions cleave
The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant,
Against foul fiends, to aid us militant?
They for us fight, they watch, and duly ward,
And their bright squadrons round about us plant,
And all for love, and nothing for reward!
Oh, why should heavenly God to men have such regard!”

As early as the fourth century the Christian Church had developed a profound belief in the existence of both good and evil angels,—“the foul fiends” and “bright squadrons” of Spenser’s lines,—the former ever tempting human beings to sin, and the indulgence of their lower natures; the latter inciting them to pursue good, forsaking evil and pressing forward to the perfect Christian life. This faith is devoutly maintained in the writings of the Fathers of the Church, in which we are also taught that angelic aid may be invoked in our need, and that a consciousness of the abiding presence of celestial beings should be a supreme solace to human sorrow and suffering.

It remained for the theologians of the Middle Ages to exercise their fruitful imaginations in originating a systematic classification of the Orders of the Heavenly Host, and assigning to each rank its distinctive office. The warrant for these discriminations may seem insufficient to sceptical minds, but as their results are especially manifest in the works of the old masters, some knowledge of them is necessary to the student of Art; without it a large proportion of the famous religious pictures of the world are utterly void of meaning.

Speaking broadly, this classification was based on that of St. Paul, when he speaks of “the principalities and powers in heavenly places,” and of “thrones and dominions;” on the account by Jude of the fall of the “angels which kept not their first estate;” on the triumphs of the Archangel Michael, and a few other texts of Scripture. Upon these premises the angelic host was divided into three hierarchies, and these again into nine choirs.

The first hierarchy embraces seraphim, cherubim, and thrones, the first mention being sometimes given to the cherubim. Dionysius the Areopagite—to whom St. Paul confided all that he had seen, when transported to the seventh heaven—accords the first rank to the seraphim, while the familiar hymn of St. Ambrose has accustomed us to saying, “To Thee, cherubim and seraphim continually do cry.” Dante gives preference to Dionysius as an authority, and says of him:

“For he had learn’d
Both this and much beside of these our orbs
From an eye-witness to Heaven’s mysteries.”