The middle of the thirteenth century was an era of religious excitement all over the south of Europe. A sudden fit of penitence—‘una subita compunzione,’ as an Italian author calls it—seized all hearts; relics and pilgrimages, and penances and monastic ordinances, filled all minds. About this period, certain remains, supposed to be those of Mary Magdalene and Lazarus, were discovered at a place since called St. Maximin, about twenty miles north of Toulon. The discovery strongly excited the devotion and enthusiasm of the people; and a church was founded on the spot by Charles, Count of Provence (the brother of St. Louis), as early as 1279. A few years afterwards, this prince was vanquished and taken prisoner by the king of Aragon, and when at length set free after a long captivity, he ascribed his deliverance particularly to the intercession of his chosen patroness, Mary Magdalene. This incident greatly extended her fame as a saint of power; and from this time we may date her popularity, and those sculptural and pictorial representations of her, under various aspects, which, from the fourteenth century to the present time, have so multiplied, that scarcely any Catholic place of worship is to be found without her image. In fact, it is difficult for us, in these days, to conceive, far more difficult to sympathise with, the passionate admiration and devotion with which she was regarded by her votaries in the middle ages. The imputed sinfulness of her life only brought her nearer to them. Those who did not dare to lift up their eyes to the more saintly models of purity and holiness,—to the martyrs who had suffered in the cause of chastity,—took courage to invoke her intercession. The extravagant titles bestowed upon her in the middle ages—‘l’amante de Jésus-Christ,’ ‘la bien-aimée du Sauveur,’ ‘la très-saincte demoiselle pécheresse,’—and others which I should hardly dare to transcribe, show the spirit in which she was worshipped, particularly in the south of France, and the kind of chivalrous sentiment which mingled with the devotion of her adorers. I found in an old French sermon a eulogium of Mary Magdalene, which for its eloquence and ingenuity seems to me without a parallel. The preacher, while acknowledging the excesses which brought her a penitent to the feet of Christ, is perfectly scandalised that she should be put on a par with common sinners of the same class, and that on the faith of a passage in St. Luke, ‘on a osé flétrir une des plus belles âmes qui soient jamais sorties des mains du Créateur!’ He rather glorifies her as a kind of Aspasia, to whom, indeed, he in a manner compares her.[297]
The traditional scene of the penance of the Magdalene, a wild spot between Toulon and Marseilles, is the site of a famous convent called La Sainte Beaume (which in the Provençal tongue signifies Holy Cave), formerly a much frequented place of pilgrimage. It is built on the verge of a formidable precipice; near it is the grotto in which the saint resided; and to Mount Pilon, a rocky point about six hundred feet above the grotto, the angels bore her seven times a day to pray. This convent was destroyed and pillaged at the commencement of the French Revolution. It was filled with relics and works of art, referring to the life and the worship of the Magdalene.
But the most sumptuous fane ever erected to her special honour is that which, of late years, has arisen in the city of Paris. The church, or rather the temple, of La Madeleine stands an excelling monument, if not of modern piety, at least of modern Art. It is built on the model of the temple of Jupiter at Athens:—
That noble type is realised again
In perfect form; and dedicate—to whom?
To a poor Syrian girl of lowliest name—
A hapless creature, pitiful and frail
As ever wore her life in sin and shame!
R. M. Milnes.
The saint, whether she were ‘the lowly Syrian girl’ or the ‘Princess of Magdala,’ would be equally astonished to behold herself thus honoured with a sort of pagan magnificence in the midst of a luxurious capital, and by a people more remarkable for scoffing than for praying. Even in the successive vicissitudes of this splendid edifice there is something strange. That which is now the temple of the lowly penitent was, a few years ago, Le Temple de la Gloire.