Gabriel and Michaël, and him who made

Tobias whole.—Dante, Par. c. iv.

ADDITIONAL NOTES ON ANGELS.

1. In a picture by Gentile da Fabriano (Berlin Gallery, 1130), the Virgin and Child are enthroned, and on each side of the throne is a tree, on the branches of which are little red Seraphim winged and perched like birds, singing and making music. I remember also a little Dutch print of a Riposo (v. ‘Legends of the Madonna,’ p. 256), in which five little angels are perched on the trees above, singing and playing for the solace of the divine Infant. Thus we have Dante’s idea of the Uccelli di Dio, reproduced in a more familiar form.

2. In the Convent of Sant-Angelo at Bologna, Camillo Procaccino painted the ‘Acts of the Holy Angels’ in the following order:—1. The Fall of the Dragon. 2. The Angels drive Adam and Eve from Paradise. 3. The three Angels visit Abraham. 4. The Angel stays the arm of Abraham. 5. The Angel wrestles with Jacob. 6. The Angels visit Jacob in a Dream. 7. The Angel delivers the three Children in the burning fiery Furnace. 8. The Angel slays the Host of Sennacherib. 9. The Angel protects Tobit. 10. The Punishment of Heliodorus. 11. The Annunciation to Mary. It will be remarked that all these subjects are strictly scriptural.

The Four Evangelists.

The Four Evangelists.

‘Matthew wrote for the Hebrews; Mark, for the Italians; Luke, for the Greeks; for ALL, the great herald John.’—Gregory Nazianzen.

Since on the Four Evangelists, as the witnesses and interpreters of a revealed religion, the whole Christian Church may be said to rest as upon four majestic pillars, we cannot be surprised that representations of them should abound, and that their effigies should have been introduced into Christian places of worship, from very early times. Generally, we find them represented together, grouped, or in a series; sometimes in their collective character, as the Four Witnesses; sometimes in their individual character, each as an inspired teacher, or beneficent patron. As no authentic resemblances of these sacred personages have ever been known or even supposed to exist, such representations have always been either symbolical or ideal. In the symbol, the aim was to embody, under some emblematical image, the spiritual mission; in the ideal portrait, the artist, left to his own conception, borrowed from Scripture some leading trait (when Scripture afforded any authority for such), and adding, with what success his skill could attain, all that his imagination could conceive, as expressive of dignity and persuasive eloquence—the look ‘commercing with the skies,’ the commanding form, the reverend face, the ample draperies—he put the book or the pen into his hand, and thus the writer and the teacher of the truth was placed before us.