There are a number of extravagant and poetical legends relating to St. Thomas. I shall here limit myself to those which were adopted in ecclesiastical decoration, and treated by the artists of the middle ages.
When St. Thomas figures as apostle, alone or with others, in all the devotional representations which are not prior to the thirteenth century he carries as his attribute the builder’s rule, of this form—
Now, as he was a fisherman, and neither a carpenter nor a mason, the origin of this attribute must be sought in one of the most popular legends of which he is the subject.
‘When St. Thomas was at Cesarea, our Lord appeared to him and said, “The king of the Indies, Gondoforus, hath sent his provost Abanes to seek for workmen well versed in the science of architecture, who shall build for him a palace finer than that of the Emperor of Rome. Behold, now, I will send thee to him.” And Thomas went, and Gondoforus commanded him to build for him a magnificent palace, and gave him much gold and silver for the purpose. The king went into a distant country, and was absent for two years; and St. Thomas meanwhile, instead of building a palace, distributed all the treasures entrusted to him among the poor and sick; and when the king returned, he was full of wrath, and he commanded that St. Thomas should be seized and cast into prison, and he meditated for him a horrible death. Meantime the brother of the king died; and the king resolved to erect for him a most magnificent tomb; but the dead man, after that he had been dead four days, suddenly arose and sat upright, and said to the king, “The man whom thou wouldst torture is a servant of God: behold I have been in Paradise, and the angels showed to me a wondrous palace of gold and silver and precious stones,” and they said, “This is the palace that Thomas the architect hath built for thy brother King Gondoforus.” And when the king heard these words, he ran to the prison, and delivered the apostle; and Thomas said to him, “Knowest thou not that those who would possess heavenly things, have little care for the things of this earth? There are in heaven rich palaces without number, which were prepared from the beginning of the world for those who purchase the possession through faith and charity. Thy riches, O king, may prepare the way for thee to such a palace, but they cannot follow thee thither.”’[219]
The builder’s rule in the hand of St. Thomas characterises him as the spiritual architect of King Gondoforus, and for the same reason he has been chosen among the saints as patron of architects and builders.
There is in this legend or allegory, fanciful as it is, an obvious beauty and significance, which I need not point out. It appears to me to be one of those many legends which originally were not assumed to be facts, but were related as parables, religious fictions invented for the instruction of the people, like our Saviour’s stories of the ‘Good Samaritan,’ the ‘Prodigal Son,’ &c., and were rendered more striking and impressive by the introduction of a celebrated and exalted personage—our Saviour, the Virgin, or one of the apostles—as hero of the tale. This beautiful legend of St. Thomas and King Gondoforus is painted on one of the windows of the cathedral at Bourges,—an appropriate offering from the company of builders in that ancient city. It is also the subject of one of the finest of the ancient French mysteries, which was acted with great applause at Paris in the fourteenth century.
But, in the historical subjects from the life of St. Thomas, the first place must be given to the one scriptural incident in which he figures as a principal person. ‘The Incredulity of St. Thomas’ occurs in all the early series of the life of Christ, as one of the events of his mission, and one of the proofs of his resurrection. On the ancient gates of San Paolo it is treated with great simplicity as a sacred mystery, St. Thomas being the principal personage in the action, as the one whose conviction was to bring conviction to the universe. Christ stands on a pedestal surmounted by a cross; the apostles are ranged on each side, and St. Thomas, approaching, stretches forth his hand. The incident, as a separate subject, is of frequent occurrence in the later schools of Italy, and in the Flemish schools. The general treatment, when given in this dramatic style, admits of two variations: either St. Thomas is placing his hand, with an expression of doubt and fear, on the wounds of the Saviour; or, his doubts being removed, he is gazing upwards in adoration and wonder. Of the first, one of the finest examples is a well-known picture by Rubens,[220] one of his most beautiful works, and extraordinary for the truth of the expression in the countenance of the apostle, whose hand is on the side of Christ; St. John and St. Peter are behind. In Vandyck’s picture at Petersburg, St. Thomas stoops to examine the Saviour’s hand. In a design ascribed to Raphael, we have the second version: the look of astonished conviction in St. Thomas.[221] Niccolò Poussin has painted it finely, introducing twelve figures.[222] Guercino’s picture is celebrated, but he has committed the fault of representing the two principal figures both in profile.[223]