INTRODUCTORY.
NGELS and archangels, cherubim and seraphim, and all the glorious
hosts of heaven were a fruitful source of inspiration to the oldest
painters and sculptors whose works are known to us, while the
artists of our more practical, less dreamful age are, from time to
time, inspired to reproduce their conceptions of the guardian
angels of our race.
The Almighty declared to Job that the creation of the world was
welcomed with shouts of joy by “all the sons of God, ” and the story of the
words and works of the angels written in the Scriptures—from the
placing of the cherubim at the east of the Garden of Eden, to the
worship of the angel by John, in the last chapter of
Revelation—presents them to us as heavenly guides, consolers,
protectors, and reprovers of human beings.
What study is more charming and restful than that of the angels as
set forth in Holy Writ and the writings of the early Church? or
more interesting to observe than the manner in which the artists of
various nations and periods have expressed their ideas concerning
these celestial messengers of God? What more fascinating, more
stimulating to the imagination and further removed from the
exhausting tension of our day and generation?
The Old Testament represents the angels as an innumerable host,
discerning good and evil by reason of superior intel ligence, and without
passion doing the will of God. Having the power to slay, it is only
exercised by the command of the Almighty, and not until after the
Captivity do we read of evil angels who work wickedness among men.
In fact, after this time the Hebrews seem to have added much to
their angelic theory and faith which harmonizes with the religion
of the Chaldeans, and with the teaching of Zoroaster.
The angels of the New Testament, while exempt from need and
suffering, have sympathy with human sorrow, rejoice over repentance
of sin, attend on prayerful souls, and conduct the spirits of the
just to heaven when the earthly life is ended.
One may doubt, however, if from the Scriptural teaching concerning
angels would emanate the universal interest in their
representation, and the personal sympathy with it, which is commonly shared by all
sorts and conditions of men, did they not cherish a
belief—consciously or otherwise—that beings superior to themselves
exist, and employ their superhuman powers for the blessing of our
race, and for the welfare of individuals. Evidently Spenser felt
this when he wrote:
“How oft do they their silver bowers leave,And come to succor us that succor want?How oft do they with golden pinions cleaveThe flitting skies, like flying pursuivant,Against foul fiends, to aid us militant?They for us fight, they watch, and duly ward,And their bright squadrons round about us plant,And all for love, and nothing for reward!Oh, why should heavenly God to men have such
regard!”
As early as the fourth century the Christian Church had
developed a profound belief in the existence of both good and evil
angels,—“the foul fiends” and “bright squadrons” of Spenser’s
lines, —the former
ever tempting human beings to sin, and the indulgence of their
lower natures; the latter inciting them to pursue good, forsaking
evil and pressing forward to the perfect Christian life. This faith
is devoutly maintained in the writings of the Fathers of the
Church, in which we are also taught that angelic aid may be invoked
in our need, and that a consciousness of the abiding presence of
celestial beings should be a supreme solace to human sorrow and
suffering.
It remained for the theologians of the Middle Ages to exercise
their fruitful imaginations in originating a systematic
classification of the Orders of the Heavenly Host, and assigning to
each rank its distinctive office. The warrant for these
discriminations may seem insufficient to sceptical minds, but as
their results are especially manifest in the works of the old masters, some knowledge
of them is necessary to the student of Art; without it a large
proportion of the famous religious pictures of the world are
utterly void of meaning.
Speaking broadly, this classification was based on that of St.
Paul, when he speaks of “the principalities and powers in heavenly
places,” and of “thrones and dominions;” on the account by Jude of
the fall of the “angels which kept not their first estate;” on the
triumphs of the Archangel Michael, and a few other texts of
Scripture. Upon these premises the angelic host was divided into
three hierarchies, and these again into nine choirs.
The first hierarchy embraces seraphim, cherubim, and thrones, the
first mention being sometimes given to the cherubim. Dionysius the
Areopagite—to whom St. Paul confided all that he had seen, when
transported to the seventh heaven—ac cords the first rank to the seraphim, while the
familiar hymn of St. Ambrose has accustomed us to saying, “To Thee,
cherubim and seraphim continually do cry.” Dante gives preference
to Dionysius as an authority, and says of him:
“For he had learn’dBoth this and much
beside of these our orbsFrom an eye-witness to
Heaven’s mysteries.”
The second hierarchy includes the dominations, virtues, and
powers; the third, princedoms, archangels, and angels. The first
hierarchy receives its glory directly from the Almighty, and
transmits it to the second, which, in turn, illuminates the third,
which is especially dedicated to the care and service of the human
race.
From the third hierarchy come the ministers and messengers of God;
the second is composed of governors, and the first of councillors.
The choristers of
heaven are also angels, and the making of music is an important
angelic duty.
The seraphim immediately surround the throne of God, and are ever
lost in adoration and love, which is expressed in their very name,
seraph coming from a Hebrew root, meaning love. The cherubim also
worship the Creator, and are assigned to some special duties; they
are superior in knowledge, and the word cherub, also from the
Hebrew, signifies to know. Thrones sustain the seat of the
Almighty.
The second hierarchy governs the elements and the stars. Princedoms
protect earthly monarchies, while archangels and angels are the
agents of God in his dealings with humanity. The title of angel,
signifying a messenger, may be, and is, given to a man bearing
important tidings. Thus the Evangelists are represented with wings,
and John the Baptist is, in this sense, an angel. The Greeks sometimes represent
Christ with wings, and call him “The Great Angel of the Will of
God.”
Very early in the history of Art a system of religious symbolism
existed, a knowledge of which greatly enhances the pleasure derived
from representations of sacred subjects. In no case was this
symbolism more carefully observed than in the representations of
angels. The aureole or nimbus is never omitted from the head of an
angel, and is always, wherever used, the symbol of sanctity.
Wings are the distinctive angelic symbol, and are emblematic of
spirit, power, and swiftness. Seraphim and cherubim are usually
represented by heads with one, two, or three pairs of wings, which
symbolize pure spirit, informed by love and intelligence; the head
is an emblem of the soul, the love, the knowledge, while the wings
have their usual significance.
This manner of representing the two highest orders of angels is
very ancient, and in the earliest instances in existence the faces
are human, thoughtful, and mature. Gradually they became
child-like, and were intended to express innocence, and later they
degenerated into absurd little baby heads, with little wings folded
under the chin. These in no sense convey the original, spiritual
significance of the seraphic and cherubic head.
The first Scriptural mention of cherubim with wings occurs after
the departure of the Israelites from Egypt, Exodus xxv., 20: “And
the cherubim shall stretch forth their wings on high, covering the
mercy seat.” Isaiah gives warrant for six wings, as frequently
represented in Art, and so vividly described by Milton:
“A seraph winged; six wings he wore to shadeHis lineaments divine; the pair that cladEach shoulder broad, came mantling o’er his
breast
Perugino.—A Six-winged Cherub. (From the Assumption of the
Virgin.)
With regal ornament; the middle pairGirt
like a starry zone his waist, and roundSkirted
his loins and thighs with downy goldAnd colors
dipp’d in heaven; the third, his feetShadow’d
from either heel with feather’d mail,Sky-tinctured grain.”
In Ezekiel we read that “their wings were stretched upward
when they flew; when they stood they let down their wings.” There
is, no doubt, Scriptural authority for representing angels’ wings
in the most realistic manner, since Daniel says “they had wings
like a fowl.” Is it not more desirable, however, to see angel-wings
rather than bird-wings? The more devout and imaginative artists
succeeded in overcoming the commonplace in this regard by various
devices. For example, Orcagna, in the Campo Santo at Pisa, makes
the bodies of his angels to end in delicate wings instead of legs;
in some old pictures the wings fade into a cloudy vapor, or burst
into flames. In one of Raphael’s frescoes in the Vatican, we see fiery
cherubs, their hair, wings, and limbs ending in glowing flames,
while their faces are full of spirit and intelligence. Certainly,
if anywhere purely impressionist painting is acceptable and
fitting, it is in the portrayal of heavenly wings.
Mrs. Jameson, in writing of this subject, says, “Infinitely more
beautiful and consistent are the nondescript wings which the early
painters gave their angels: large,—so large that, when the glorious
creature is represented as at rest, they droop from the shoulders
to the ground; with long, slender feathers, eyed sometimes like the
peacock’s train, bedropped with gold like the pheasant’s breast,
tinted with azure and violet and crimson, ‘Colors dipp’d in
Heaven,’—they are really angel-wings, not bird-wings.”
It is interesting to note that wings were used by the artists of
ancient Egypt,
Babylon, Nineveh, and Etruria as symbols of might, majesty, and
divine beauty.
The representation of great numbers of angels, surrounding the
Deity, the Trinity, or the glorified Virgin, is known as a Glory of
Angels, and is most expressive and poetical when æsthetically
portrayed. A Glory, when properly represented, is composed of the
hierarchies of angels in circles, each hierarchy in its proper
order. Complete Glories, with nine circles, are exceedingly rare.
Many artists contented themselves with two or three, and sometimes
but a single circle, thus symbolizing the symbol of the
Glory.
The nine choirs of angels are represented in various ways when not
in a Glory, and are frequently seen in ancient frescoes, mosaics,
and sculptures. Sometimes each choir has three figures, thus
symbolizing the Trinity; again, two fig ures stand for each choir, and
occasionally nine figures personate the three hierarchies; in the
last representation careful attention was given to colors as well
as to symbols.
The Princedoms and Powers of Heaven are represented by rows and
groups of angels, all wearing the same dress and the same tiara,
and bearing the orb of sovereignty and wands like sceptres.
One of the most important elements in the proper painting of
seraphs and cherubs was the use of color, while greater freedom was
permitted in the portrayal of other angelic orders. In a Glory, for
example, the inner circle should be glowing red, the symbol of
love; the second, blue, the emblem of light, which again symbolizes
knowledge.
Angelic symbolism in its purity makes the “blue-eyed seraphim” and
the “smiling cherubim” equally incorrect, since the seraph should be glowing with
divine love, and the face of the cherub should be expressive of
serious meditation,—as Milton says, “the Cherub Contemplation.” The
familiar cherubim beneath Raphael’s famous Madonna di San Sisto, in
the Dresden Gallery, are exquisite illustrations of this
thoughtfulness.
The colors of the oldest pictures, of the illuminated manuscripts,
the stained glass, and the painted sculptures were most carefully
considered. Gradually, however, the color law was less faithfully
observed, until, at the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of
the sixteenth centuries, it was not unusual to see the wings of
cherubim in various colors, while cherub heads were represented as
floating in clouds with no apparent wings.
Two pictures of world-wide fame illustrate this change,—Raphael’s
Madonna, mentioned
above, and Perugino’s Coronation of the Virgin. In the first, the
entire background is composed of seraphs and cherubs apparently
evolved from thin blue air, and in constant danger of disappearing
in the golden-tinted background. In the second, the multi-colored
wings of the floating cherubim are beautiful and the harmony of
tones is exquisite, but they represent an innovation to which one
must become more and more accustomed as artists are less reverent
in their work.
The five angelic choirs which follow the seraphim and cherubim are
not familiar to us in works of art, although they were painted with
great accuracy in the words of the mediæval theologians.
When archangels are represented merely as belonging to their order,
and not in their distinctive offices, they are in complete armor,
and bear swords with the points upwards, and sometimes a trumpet
also.
Fra Angelico.—A Glory of Angels.
Angels are robed, and are represented in accordance with the work
in which they are engaged. Strictly speaking, the wand is the
angelic symbol, but must be frequently omitted, as when the hands
are folded in prayer, or musical instruments are in use, and in a
variety of other occupations.
All angels are said to be masculine. They are represented as having
human forms and faces, young, beautiful, perfect, with an
expression of other-worldliness. They are created beings, therefore
not eternal, but they are never old, and should not be infantile.
Such representations as can be called infant angels should
symbolize the souls of regenerate men, or the spirits of such as
die in infancy,—those of whom Jesus said that “in heaven their
angels do always behold the face of my Father.”
Angels are changeless; for them time does not exist; they enjoy perpetual youth and
uninterrupted bliss. To these qualities should be added an
impression of unusual power, wisdom, innocence, and spiritual
love.
In the earliest pictures of angels the drapery was ample, and no
unusual attitudes, no insufficient robes, nor unsuitable expression
was seen in such representations so long as religious art was at
its best.
White should be the prevailing color of angelic drapery, but
delicate shades of blue, red, and green were frequently employed
with wonderful effect. The Venetians used an exquisite pale salmon
color in the drapery of their angels; but no dark or heavy colors
are seen in the robes of angels in the pictures of the old Italian
masters. The early German painters, however, affected angelic
draperies of such vast expanse and weighty coloring, em broidery, and jewels,
that apparently their angels must perforce descend to earth, and
never hope to rise again without a change of toilet.
I shall presently speak of angels in their offices of messengers,
guardians, choristers, and comforters. At present I am thinking of
the multitudes of angels which were introduced into early religious
pictures to indicate a “cloud of witnesses.” They lend an element
of beauty and of spiritual emotion to the scenes honored with their
presence. Their effectiveness has appealed to many Christian
architects who have fully profited by the example of Solomon, who
“carved all the walls of the house—temple—with carved figures of
cherubim,” and he made the doors of olive-tree, and he carved on
them figures of cherubim.