3. The Supper of St. Gregory. It is related that when Gregory was only a monk, in the Monastery of St. Andrew, a beggar presented himself at the gate, and requested alms: being relieved, he came again and again, and at length nothing was left for the charitable saint to bestow, but the silver porringer in which his mother, Sylvia, had sent him a potage; and he commanded that this should be given to the mendicant. It was his custom, when he became pope, to entertain every evening at his own table twelve poor men, in remembrance of the number of our Lord’s apostles. One night, as he sat at supper with his guests, he saw, to his surprise, not twelve, but thirteen seated at his table. And he called to his steward, and said to him, ‘Did I not command thee to invite twelve? and behold, there are thirteen!’ And the steward told them over, and replied, ‘Holy Father, there are surely twelve only!’ and Gregory held his peace; and after the meal, he called forth the unbidden guest, and asked him, ‘Who art thou?’ And he replied, ‘I am the poor man whom thou didst formerly relieve; but my name is the Wonderful, and through me thou shalt obtain whatever thou shalt ask of God.’ Then Gregory knew that he had entertained an angel (or, according to another version of the story, our Lord himself). This legend has been a frequent subject in painting, under the title of ‘The Supper of St. Gregory.’ In the fresco in his church at Rome, it is a winged angel who appears at the supper-table. In the fresco of Paul Veronese, one of his famous banquet-scenes, the stranger seated at the table is the Saviour habited as a pilgrim.[288] In the picture painted by Vasari, his masterpiece, now in the Bologna Gallery, he has introduced a great number of figures and portraits of distinguished personages of his own time, St. Gregory being represented under the likeness of Clement VII. The unbidden guest, or angel, bears the features of the Saviour.
This is one of many beautiful mythic legends, founded on the words of St. Paul in which he so strongly recommends hospitality as one of the virtues: ‘Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.’ (Heb. xiii. 2.) Or, as Massinger has rendered the apostolic precept,—
Learn all,
By this example, to look on the poor
With gentle eyes, for in such habits often
Angels desire an alms.
4. The Mass of St. Gregory. On a certain occasion, when St. Gregory was officiating at the mass, one who was near him doubted the real presence; thereupon, at the prayer of the saint, a vision is suddenly revealed of the crucified Saviour himself, who descends upon the altar, surrounded by the instruments of his passion. This legend has been a popular subject of painting from the beginning of the fifteenth century, and is called ‘The Mass of St. Gregory.’ I have met with it in every variety of treatment and grouping; but, however treated, it is not a pleasing subject. St. Gregory is seen officiating at the altar, surrounded by his attendant clergy. Sometimes several saints are introduced in a poetical manner, as witnesses of the miracle: as in an old picture I saw in the gallery of Lord Northwick;—the crucified Saviour descends from the cross, and stands on the altar, or is upborne in the air by angels; while all the incidental circumstances and instruments of the Passion,—not merely the crown of thorns, the spear, the nails, but the kiss of Judas, the soldiers’ dice, the cock that crew to Peter,—are seen floating in the air. As a specimen of the utmost naïveté in this representation may be mentioned Albert Dürer’s woodcut.
The least offensive and most elegant in treatment is the marble bas-relief in front of the altar in the Chapel of St. Gregory at Rome.
5. The miracle of the Brandeum. The Empress Constantia sent to St. Gregory requesting some of the relics of St. Peter and St. Paul. He excused himself, saying that he dared not disturb their sacred remains for such a purpose, but he sent her part of a consecrated cloth (Brandeum) which had enfolded the body of St. John the Evangelist. The empress rejected this gift with contempt: whereupon Gregory, to show that such things are hallowed not so much in themselves as by the faith of believers, laid the Brandeum on the altar, and after praying he took up a knife and pierced it, and blood flowed as from a living body. This incident, called the ‘miracle dei Brandei,’ has also been painted. Andrea Sacchi has represented it in a grand picture now in the Vatican; the mosaic copy is over the altar of St. Gregory in St. Peter’s. Gregory holds up to view the bleeding cloth, and the expression of astonishment and conviction in the countenances of the assistants is very fine.