At the conclusion there is a picture of the Virgin on a throne with the child Christ. There are several offices of the Virgin in the Harleian collection, [Footnote 99] but we shall only notice one more, which bears date from 1490 to 1500. [Footnote 100]
[Footnote 99: Harleian MSS., 2646, 2884, 2858, etc.]
[Footnote 100: MSS. Addit., 17012.]
On pages 20 and 21 are autographs of Henry VII. and Henry VIII., which will justify the supposition that it belonged to both. Its illustrations include, among other things, the murder of Thomas à Becket, St. George and the Dragon, St. Christopher, the Virgin and child, with St. Anna, St. Catherine, St. Barbara, and St. Margaret. There is a religious poem, illustrated with miniatures, and bearing date from 1420 to 1430, [Footnote 101] which elaborately delineates the intercessorial attributed to the Virgin.
[Footnote 101: Cotton MSS.—Faustina, B vi.]
The picture in which this is set forth is a remarkable one. In the lower part of it is a man dying on a bed, at the foot of which stands death, in the usual form of a skeleton, making ready to pierce the heart of the dying man with a spear, and there is a black demon, with a hook reaching toward him; at the head of the bed is an angel receiving his soul, which is represented as a naked infant; about is the Virgin, with a crown upon her head, baring her bosom to Christ, and imploring him, by the breasts which nourished him, to take pity upon the soul of the dying man. They are both kneeling before the Almighty, and Christ is represented in a red mantle as showing his wounds, in token of granting his mother's request. The Almighty is represented as seated upon a throne, robed in a blue mantle, and having the usual long white beard; he is lifting his hand in benediction. An idea was set on foot that the Virgin had fainted at the crucifixion; and in some of these later manuscripts she is represented in the act. In a Psalter [Footnote 102] Page 256, there is a picture of the crucifixion, with the Virgin in the act of fainting.
[Footnote 102: MSS. Regia, 2 B vii.]
Mrs. Jamieson in noticing this fact in her History of Our Lord as exemplified in Art, has remarked that it was condemned by Catholic writers themselves. Thomas Cajetani wrote of it as "indecens et improbabile;" and other writers are quoted by Molanus, who inveighed against it, and stigmatized it as a thing "temerarium, scandalosum et periculosum."
But it was at the period of the Reformation, and after then, that these treasures of art suffered, and the natural iconoclasm of human nature broke out. Men gazed around them upon gorgeous temples, decorated with splendid paintings, stained glass windows, marvellous sculpture, and to their zealous minds it was all idolatry; and they tore down frescoes, destroyed paintings, overturned altars, broke up statues, and burned sacred books to exterminate error if possible, not by the powers of truthful preaching and godly lives, but by the battle-axe and the bonfire; not by uprooting error itself, so much as by beating down and destroying its mere evidences.
It was in consequence of this iconoclasm that much of the art productions of Christianity has been lost to us; nay, much of literature and history also, for in the sack of a monastery little discrimination was used, save as to precious metals. We frequently read of valuable books and manuscripts being consigned to the flames, but the cups, chalices, the contents of the coffers, invariably found their way to the treasury. We must always remember this, that human nature was not wholly confined to Roman Catholics, but that there was a considerable amount of it among the Reformers. Still, in spite of iconoclasm, in spite of misguided zeal, sufficient has escaped destruction, and been preserved to our inspection, to convince us of the beauty of those arts which sprang up in the wake of Christianity, though they did ultimately become tainted with human error. And we may see in all this [{318}] painting and sculpture, poetry and music, the marvellous adaptability of Christianity as a regenerator and stimulant, how it takes up what is good in the world—genius, skill, love, devotion, and starts them into new channels, with increased vigor and nobler aim. It took up philosophy, purged it of its errors, and of philosophers made fathers; it took up science, and bid it labor to alleviate human suffering, and assuage the physical condition of humanity; it took up art, and not only embellished it, but gave it an inexhaustible realm of subjects—a realm in which it has been laboring ever since, and though improving advancing in each age, will never exhaust its treasures; it has been, as it's Founder declared it should be, the salt of the earth; it has rescued the world in moments of darkness and danger, aroused it from apathy and indifference, purged it, stimulated it, sent it on in the right way, and brought it back again when it had peevishly wandered; and not the least evidence of its purifying, elevating effects upon the fine arts is this, which we have been endeavoring to describe in the rise and development of missal painting, that beauty of cloistered: holiness.