In the chapel of Mary Magdalene at Assisi, we find, besides the history of her life, full-length figures of Mary, Martha, Lazarus, and Maximin. Mary, a beautiful dignified figure, as usual in rich red drapery, stands to the right of the altar, holding out her hand to a kneeling Franciscan: on the left Martha stands in grey drapery with a close hood: Lazarus and Maximin as bishops.
This will give an idea of the manner in which these personages are either grouped together or placed in connection with each other.
St. Mary of Egypt.
Ital. Santa Maria Egiziaca Penitente. Fr. Sainte Marie l’Égyptienne, La Gipesienne, La Jussienne. (April 2, A.D. 433.)
I place the story of St. Mary of Egypt here, for though she had no real connection with the Magdalene, in works of art they are perpetually associated as les bienheureuses pécheresses, and in their personal and pictorial attributes not unfrequently confounded. The legend of Mary Egyptiaca is long anterior to that of Mary Magdalene. It was current in a written form so early as the sixth century, being then received as a true history; but it appears to have been originally one of those instructive parables or religious romances which, in the early ages of the Church, were composed and circulated for the edification of the pious. In considering the manners of that time, we may easily believe that it may have had some foundation in fact. That a female anchoret of the name of Mary lived and died in a desert of Palestine near the river Jordan—that she there bewailed her sins in solitude for a long course of years, and was accidentally discovered—is a very ancient tradition, supported by contemporary evidence. The picturesque, miraculous, and romantic incidents with which the story has been adorned, appear to have been added to enhance the interest; and, in its present form, the legend is attributed to St. Jerome.
‘Towards the year of our Lord 365, there dwelt in Alexandria a woman whose name was Mary, and who in the infamy of her life far exceeded Mary Magdalene. After passing seventeen years in every species of vice, it happened that one day, while roving along the sea-shore, she beheld a ship ready to sail, and a large company preparing to embark. She inquired whither they were going? They replied that they were going up to Jerusalem, to celebrate the feast of the true cross. She was seized with a sudden desire to accompany them; but having no money, she paid the price of her passage by selling herself to the sailors and pilgrims, whom she allured to sin by every means in her power. On their arrival at Jerusalem, she joined the crowds of worshippers who had assembled to enter the church; but all her attempts to pass the threshold were in vain; whenever she thought to enter the porch, a supernatural power drove her back in shame, in terror, in despair. Struck by the remembrance of her sins, and filled with repentance, she humbled herself and prayed for help; the interdiction was removed, and she entered the church of God, crawling on her knees. Thenceforward she renounced her wicked and shameful life, and, buying at a baker’s three small loaves, she wandered forth into solitude, and never stopped or reposed till she had penetrated into the deserts beyond the Jordan, where she remained in severest penance, living on roots and fruits, and drinking water only; her garments dropped away in rags piecemeal, leaving her unclothed; and she prayed fervently not to be left thus exposed: suddenly her hair grew so long as to form a covering for her whole person (or, according to another version, an angel brought her a garment, from heaven). Thus she dwelt in the wilderness, in prayer and penance, supported only by her three small loaves, which, like the widow’s meal, failed her not, until, after the lapse of forty-seven years, she was discovered by a priest named Zosimus. Of him she requested silence, and that he would return at the end of a year, and bring with him the elements of the holy sacrament, that she might confess and communicate, before she was released from earth. And Zosimus obeyed her, and returned after a year; but not being able to pass the Jordan, the penitent, supernaturally assisted, passed over the water to him; and, having received the sacrament with tears, she desired the priest to leave her once more to her solitude, and to return in a year from that time. And when he returned he found her dead, her hands crossed on her bosom. And he wept greatly; and, looking round, he saw written in the sand these words:—“O Father Zosimus, bury the body of the poor sinner, Mary of Egypt! Give earth to earth, and dust to dust, for Christ’s sake!” He endeavoured to obey this last command, but being full of years, and troubled and weak, his strength failed him, and a lion came out of the wood and aided him, digging with his paws till the grave was sufficiently large to receive the body of the saint, which being committed to the earth, the lion retired gently, and the old man returned home, praising God, who had shown mercy to the penitent.’
In single figures and devotional pictures, Mary of Egypt is portrayed as a meagre, wasted, aged woman, with long hair, and holding in her hand three small loaves. Sometimes she is united with Mary Magdalene, as joint emblems of female penitence; and not in painting only, but in poetry,—
Like redeemed Magdalene,