Ital. Il Cenacolo. La Cena. Fr. La Cène. Ger. Das Abendmal Christi.

I have already mentioned the principal scenes in which the Twelve always appear together; there is, however, one event belonging properly to the life of Christ, so important in itself, presenting the Apostles under an aspect so peculiar, and throwing so much interest around them collectively and individually, that I must bring it under notice here.


Next to the Crucifixion, there is no subject taken from the history of our redemption so consecrated in Art as the Last Supper. The awful signification lent to it by Protestants as well as Catholics has given it a deep religious import, and caused its frequent representation in churches; it has been, more particularly, the appropriate decoration of the refectories of convents, hospitals, and other institutions having a sacred character. In our Protestant churches, it is generally the subject of the altar-piece, where we have one.

Besides being one of the most important and interesting, it is one of the most difficult among the sacred subjects treated in Art. While the fixed number of personages introduced, the divine and paramount dignity of One among them, the well-known character of all, have limited the invention of the artist, they have tasked to the utmost his power of expression. The occasion, that of a repast eaten by twelve persons, is, under its material aspect, so commonplace, and, taken in the spiritual sense, so awful, that to elevate himself to the height of his theme, while keeping the ideal conscientiously bounded within its frame of circumstance, demanded in the artist aspirations of the grandest order, tempered by the utmost sobriety of reflection; and the deepest insight into the springs of character, combined with the most perfect knowledge of the indications of character as manifested through form. On the other hand, if it has been difficult to succeed, it has been equally difficult to fail signally and completely; because the spectator is not here, as in the crucifixion, in danger of being perpetually shocked by the intrusion of anomalous incidents, and is always ready to supply the dignity and meaning of a scene so familiar in itself out of his own mind and heart. It has followed, that mediocrity has been more prevalent and more endurable in this than in any other of the more serious subjects of Art. But where excellence has been in some few instances attained, it has been attained in such a supreme degree, that these examples have become a perpetual source of contemplation and of emulation, and rank among the most renowned productions of human genius.

But, before I come to consider these analytically, it is necessary to premise one or two observations, which will assist us to discrimination in the general treatment.

Pictures and works of art, which represent the Last Supper of our Lord, admit of the same classification which I have adhered to generally throughout this work. Those which represent it as a religious mystery must be considered as devotional; those which represent it merely as a scene in the passion of our Saviour are historical. In the first, we have the spiritual origin of the Eucharist; in the second, the highly dramatic detection of Judas. It is evident that the predominating motif in each must be widely different. In paintings which are intended for the altar, or for the chapels of the Holy Sacrament, we have the first, the mystical version;—it is the distribution of the spiritual food. In the second form, as the Last Supper eaten by Christ with his disciples, as leading the mind to an humble and grateful sense of his sacrifice, as repressing all sinful indulgence in food, it has been the subject chosen to decorate the refectory or common dining-room of convents.

It is curious that on the Christian sarcophagi the Last Supper does not occur. There is, in the Vatican, a rude painting taken from the catacombs representing twelve persons in a semicircle, with something like plates and dishes before them. I could not determine whether this was our Saviour and his apostles, or merely one of those feasts or suppers instituted by the early Christians called Agapæ or love-feasts; but I should think the latter.

On the Dalmatica (deacon’s robe) preserved in the sacristy of the Vatican, there is, if the date be exact (A.D. 795), the most ancient representation I have seen of the institution of the Sacrament. The embroidery, which is wonderfully beautiful, is a copy from Byzantine Art. On one side, our Saviour stands by a table or altar, and presents the cup to his apostles, one of whom approaches in a reverential attitude, and with his hands folded in his robe; on the other side, Christ presents the wafer or host: so that we have the two separate moments in separate groups.

There exists in the Duomo of Lodi the most ancient sculptural example of this subject I have met with; it is a bas-relief of the twelfth century, dated 1163, and fixed in the wall to the left of the entrance. Christ and the apostles are in a straight row, all very much alike; six of the apostles lay their hands on their breast,—‘Lord, is it I?’ and Christ presents the sop to Judas, who sits in front, and is as ugly as possible.