The Lily Of Israel By The Abbe Gerbet. Part 42.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE CRUCIFIXION

The Crucifixion - Giotto

THE greatest criminals in the world are not condemned unheard. They have a defendant. Their case is prepared. Witnesses are examined for or against, and the merits of both sides strictly scrutinized.

For Jesus there were no laws. All were forgotten, all were set aside. The judge who condemned Him declared Him innocent, but notwithstanding His innocence, He was delivered to His executioners.

His executioners! A lawless mob of ferocious animals, incited to the cruellest deeds by the devils unloosed from the pits of hell. These were the ones who surrounded Him—a God who wished to die for them—a God whose blood would fall upon them.

They dragged Him through the streets of the city, weighted down by His heavy cross. Clothed again in His own garments, led by the Roman centurion Longinus, and with four soldiers as a guard, followed by the two thieves, also guarded, who were to die with Him, He advanced along the Dolorous Way. The laughter and mockery of the crowd were His funeral dirge. The wood of the cross pressed into His wounded and bleeding shoulder.

He staggered and fell, exhausted.

Was He to perish under the very gaze of His executioners? His eyes closed. Every human help had failed. The angels had fled. The Father in heaven turned away His face from the sight of that lonely Man laden with the frightful sins of the world.

O sublime Mother, draw near! At this moment of overpowering anguish, thy loving hand alone dare touch this torn and bruised body. . . . With the majesty of grief she pushed aside those who would keep her from her Son. Her face unveiled bears the mark of such anguish that all fall back before it.

She approached her Beloved and knelt near Him, wiping the sweat and blood from His countenance. She felt indeed as if death was creeping through her every vein. But she came to afford assistance, not to seek it, and she tried to support her Son in her weak arms. Moved to pity by this sight, one of the soldiers lifted the cross, to allow the poor Victim a moment's repose.

Mary spoke a few low words. Jesus turned His eyes upon her. No human speech can interpret what passed between those two. But just then, Longinus caught sight of a stranger, who, from the fashion of his garments, seemingly hailed from the country. He had stopped to gaze at the unwonted spectacle before him, and the centurion seized his opportunity.

"Come, thou, and help here. We would not have the Man die ere we reach the place of execution," he exclaimed, roughly.

Simon of Cyrene approached as bidden. Jesus tottered to His feet once more, and the holy women who had followed came nearer, weeping bitterly and lamenting.

"Daughters of Jerusalem," He said, faintly, "weep not over Me, but weep for yourselves and for your children." ( St. Luke xxiii, 28.)

The Saviour resumed His mournful journey—followed by His Mother and her friends. Love caused her such anguish that she well-nigh died at every step. But Love again gave her such strength that the very fear of abandoning Him before the end helped her to surmount her weakness.

"My Son, my Son!" whispered the heartbroken Mother. "Every step of Thine doth save a world."

At this moment the Mother of Christ was worthy of the God who had chosen her. She too so loved the world as to give her only-begotten Son. And yet Mary was weak and a woman; those who looked upon her could scarcely recognize her countenance.

She would follow her Son to the end. She had been His pure and ardent worshiper at the first moment of His existence. She would be His pure and ardent worshiper at the last breath of His life.

The cortege had passed the city, and going out by the Gate of the Judges ascended the rough and difficult way to Golgotha. When they approached the Mount of Crucifixion the beloved disciple placed his hand on Mary's arm.

"Go no further!" he said, hoarsely. "The horror „ which is to follow is not to be witnessed by thee, His Mother. Thou canst not behold it and live."

He would have led her aside. She did not move, but looked at him with eyes which held within their depths the sorrows of the world.

"John," she said, "near or far, His sufferings can not escape me."

John knew it. He drew her away, nevertheless, striving to conceal from her view, if possible, the terrible ending to this most terrible of journeys. While the cross was placed on the ground, our dear Saviour was stripped of His garments, and, with only a linen cloth about His loins, was lifted to the little projection midway upon the upright post. His arms were tied with ropes amid the boisterous cries of the multitude, which resembled the roaring of the ocean on a tempestuous day. Then, quite suddenly, silence # intervened, punctuated by dull, regular, heavy sounds. The Virgin fell upon her knees. Her bosom heaved. John and the holy women followed her example, covering their faces, while low moans fell from their lips. With indescribable horror they heard the blows of the hammers in the hands of those who were crucifying their Lord. The crucifixion of the two thieves followed, and their screams of agony seemed doubly horrible after the silence of Christ.

One thing remained to complete this dreadful deed —the nailing above His sacred head of that title which Pilate had written in Latin, Greek and Aramaic:

THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS.

And even though the Jewish leaders—in the eyes of the Jews one dying on the cross was accursed of God—protested against the designation, it was in vain.

Gathering her strength, the Mother rose to her feet and advanced firmly to where her Son was enduring such cruel agony. She reached the very foot of the cross, followed by those who loved her. She touched it with her trembling hand, and then stood by the cross, the Mother of sorrows.

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," said Christ, the Son of God.

The people nearby gazed upon this scene, unfeelingly. The rulers derided Him.

"He saved others. Let Him save Himself, if He be Christ, the elect of God."

"True, true!" exclaimed those who overheard. "There is truth in v that!"

"If Thou be the King of the Jews, save Thyself!" yelled one of the soldiers, and again the words were taken up by the crowd and received with jeers and mockery.

"If Thou be Christ, save Thyself and us," said one of the dying thieves, in tones that were bitter with hatred and dislike. But:

"Lord," pleaded the other thief, "remember me when Thou shalt come into Thy kingdom!"

This confession of faith stirred Mary to the heart.

"Amen," she heard the voice of Jesus, "I say to thee this day thou shalt be with Me in paradise."

Tenderly, very tenderly, the Mother leaned forward and pressed her lips to the feet of her Beloved. Magdalen, in a transport of passionate grief, had thrown herself upon the ground at the foot of the cross, wiping away the blood that trickled along its bark with her beautiful hair. And Jesus, casting His glance downward, saw the ones He loved—His Mother and His cherished disciple.

"Woman, behold thy son!" He said. John looked tip at Him with adoration in his eyes. "Behold thy Mother!" added our blessed Redeemer, gently uniting for the rest of their mortal lives the two who were the dearest to Him on earth.

The sun, which had withdrawn behind the clouds, was still veiled from view. A darkness seemed to be settling over the earth—a darkness which would have terrified the onlookers had they not been too engrossed in the scene before them.

"My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?"

Oh, the agony of those words!

"I thirst!" He whispered—and one of the soldiers, running, took a sponge, filled it with vinegar, and putting it on a reed, held it to His mouth.

Darker and darker grew the lowering clouds. Off to the west sounded a low rumble of thunder.

"It is consummated," said Jesus,

A strange breeze sprang up; the atmosphere grew so black that even those lost in the sorry spectacle noted it with alarm. One by one the crowd began to melt away. Silence fell again. Then, with the swiftness of a lightning flash, the earth quaked beneath their feet, the rocks were rent in twain.

"Father," said Christ, the Son of God, "into Thy hands I commend My spirit."

Thus Jesus died.

But what fearful portents followed on that word! The graves opened. The bodies of the saints came forth from their tombs. The veil of the Temple, the one which separated the holy from the Most Holy Place was rent in twain. All creation trembled at this last sigh of the Man-God. The centurion and the soldiers who guarded Jesus cried out in terror: "Indeed this was the Son of God!"

The multitude, horror-stricken and afraid, fled through the darkness.

* * * * *

While Jesus, the Lamb of God and the High Priest of the New Law, was consummating His sacrifice on Mount Calvary, the Jewish priests had been offering their usual sacrificial lamb on Mount Moria. As soon as their sacrifice was over they went to Pilate, requesting him to hasten the death of those who had been crucified, that their bodies might be taken down before sunset.

Joseph of Arimathea, until then a timid and secret disciple of Our Lord, came forward boldly and asked for His body. The Roman Procurator had no objection to grant a private burial for One whom he had so often declared innocent.

Tenderly and carefully the pale form of the Saviour was taken down, wrapped in fine linen and costly spices, and laid away in the new tomb in the garden which was Joseph of Arimathea's property. And then, rolling a great stone to the entrance, they departed.

And Mary, the Mother of Jesus, accompanied by her friends, went back to the little house wherein she lived with Magdalen. She was the Queen of Martyrs, the Mother of Sorrows. . . . But her spirit beheld a vision, which alone kept life within her frame.

She saw the angels of every kingdom, of every age, of every sphere, rise from each point of space, and salute Christ on the cross.

Every century, past and future, every region, every element had its representative, and each of these in turn obtained regeneration for that which was under his charge. The suns, the stars and space; water, fire, air, and earth; science, art and genius; everything that lives and breathes on the surface of the earth or in its bosom, obtained regeneration. Myriads of angels and archangels, cherubim and seraphim, moved by in solemn procession, weeping as they contemplated that frightful, though redeeming agony.

Adam came, with his timid companion, and the angels saluted him with their palms of triumph—for man was now purchased for eternity. And they cried:

"Behold the Cross on which is fastened the salvation of mankind. Let us adore it. O holy God! O holy God! O holy, omnipotent, and immortal God, have pity on us!"

Their white wings raised as if they were so many shields, with golden trumpets the angels summoned Abraham, Elias, and David, who answered. Voices arose in the grand chorus:

"The iniquity of the earth is blotted out! The Lord has redeemed His people forever and the Saviour of the world shall reign!"

And an innumerable multitude rose from every point of the earth and space and filled the void between heaven and hell, whose gates quivered as Lucifer sped down toward them, followed by his evil companions.

O Mary, how thou hast loved the world !

The Tree of Life has been planted once more for humanity. It was sprinkled with most precious blood. It was made victorious over death by the unfathomable mystery of the Redemption.

* * * * *

Long centuries before, when the Israelites came into possession of the Promised Land, after their long journey through the desert, they found a tree half-buried in the earth near Golgotha. This tree was a giant of the forest. Its shape and its bark resembled none of the other trees of Judea.

Attempts were often made to convert it to some use; first, by those who built the city; and again by the architects commissioned by Solomon to build the Temple. Under Esdras they sought to use it for the new Temple of which so many wonders had been predicted.

But the tools could make no impression upon its massive sides. Any idea of utilizing it was totally abandoned, and for a long time it was called the Inviolable Timber. .

Now this tree was the Tree of Life.

It bloomed in Eden before the disobedience of man, but when Sin entered the world and upset all creation, a tempest blew from the four winds of heaven on this garden of delight which Adam had profaned.

Everything was destroyed—and the Tree of Life, blasted by the thunder, tumbled into the abyss which the cataracts of heaven had opened. During the thousands of years that intervened, it was the sport of the torrents that rolled incessantly down to bottomless gulfs. Then came the Deluge, which carried it to the vicinity of Golgotha.

That blackened trunk, that Inviolable Timber, had become historic. And yet, on the day of the Crucifixion, a young and ignorant servant, a stranger in the country, took his saw and cut it as if it were a reed.

This is the old tradition which people tell of the Tree of Life and the Cross of Jesus. A pious legend which none is asked to believe—but a sweet thought, also. That from Life Life should spring again for us!

The History Of The Blessed Virgin, Translated From The French By The Very Rev. F. C. Husenbeth, D.D., V.G. Part 47.

MARY ON CALVARY. PART 5.

By this arrangement, which added a new and cherished interest to her life, the Virgin must have understood that it was not granted her to follow her Son to the tomb, and that she had not arrived at the termination of her pilgrimage on earth. She resigned herself to the divine decrees out of love for us, whom she adopted in the person of the holy apostle. The sacrifice of Mary almost equalled then, humanly speaking, that of Jesus Christ. He willingly consented to die; and she to live! . . . They were two mighty hearts, inflamed with love for men, and which alone fully understood each other; for their thoughts were not our thoughts, and the gold of their virtues was without alloy.

The manner in which Jesus bequeathed Mary to the young fisherman of Bethsaida was dignified and simple, like every act of his mortal life: "Woman, behold thy son;" and to the beloved disciple, "Behold thy mother."

If he did not use a more tender name when speaking to his mother, it was because he knew the power of the name which he thought proper to omit, and because he would not reopen wounds already so painful and profound.

"Afterwards, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the scriptures might be fulfilled, said I thirst.

"Now there was a vessel Set there full of vinegar. And they put a sponge full of vinegar about hyssop, and put it to his mouth."

Infamous wretches to the very end !

Jesus having taken the vinegar, said, "It is consummated." Then, willing to prove to the world that he died, not by the power of death, but by a formal act of his will, he uttered a loud cry, bowed down his head, and expired ! . . . .

At that moment the idols of paganism shook upon their pedestals; the star of Moses, which had shone from only one point of the globe, and was to shine only for a time, descended to the horizon of the valleys, and the sun of the gospel, destined to give light to the world from one pole to the other, and to endure as long as the world, arose brilliantly from the side of the aurora. But God owed prodigies to the despised dignity of his Son, and they were not delayed. To the supernatural darkness, which began to clear away, succeeded the horrible convulsions of an earthquake, which overthrew twenty cities in Asia. 1 At the same time, the veil of the temple was rent, the rocks were split, and many bodies of the saints, which were in the sleep of death, arose and came into Jerusalem, where they caused fresh alarm among the people, already filled with consternation.

Then it was that a wonderful reaction was effected in favour of Jesus: the centurion and his soldiers,- who had presided at the execution, cried out with one voice that the prophet of Nazareth was certainly more than man; and that immense multitude of people, who had overwhelmed Christ in his agonies with insults, shouts, and mockery, returned down the mountain striking their breasts, and repeating with terror, " Indeed this was the Son of God !"

In the midst of the cries of distress of the people, who fled without knowing which way to direct their steps, and while Golgotha was rending her rocky sides, there was seen, by the pale light which gleamed on this scene of horror, a woman standing and completely unmoved in the midst of the convulsions and ruins of nature. This woman seemed inaccessible to the general alarm ; with her hands joined in the attitude of prayer, she was absorbed in the sorrowful contemplation of the crucified prophet.

And the daughters of Jerusalem began again to shed tears, saying with compassion, " Poor mother!"

Towards evening, the Pharisees, unwilling that the bodies should remain on the cross, lest the sanctity of the Sabbath, which would begin at nightfall, should be violated, went to request of Pilate permission to take them away. This permission being obtained, they set up ladders against the gibbets, where the two crucified thieves were still in agonies, and after rudely unfastening their feet and hands, they finished them by breaking their arms and legs. As to Jesus, as he was quite dead, 2 a soldier contented himself with piercing his side with a lance, and the divine blood which was to wash away the crimes of the world ran down in great drops upon the earth. At some distance, two women covered with veils, one of whom leaned upon the other in an attitude which betrayed the most heartrending grief, timidly beheld the proceedings of the Roman soldiers: they were Mary and Magdalen, for Magdalen too was there; and in the distance were perceived the other women from Galilee, who had left all to devote themselves to Jesus, and who had not forsaken him in the hour of punishment and ignominy. " Honour to them !" says Abeilard, " for when the disciples and apostles fled like cowards to the mountains, these weak but courageous creatures accompanied Christ even to the foot of the cross, and did not leave him till he was laid in the sepulchre !"

Then Joseph of Arimathea came up, a rich senator, who had obtained of Pontius Pilate the body of Jesus, of whom he was a disciple in secret, to pay him the honours of sepulture. He took him down from the cross, and prepared to wrap him up in a winding-sheet of fine linen from Egypt, which he had purchased at Jerusalem, when he beheld at his feet a woman pale as death, who stretched out her arms with the most affecting and sublime sorrow, to receive the crucified God. This woman, whose whole body trembled and was convulsed with shudderings of agony, had no voice left to articulate the request which seemed to move upon her lips, hut there was not, upon her face bathed in tears, a muscle which did not petition. The senator, who recognised Mary, made a sign of sympathetic compassion, and laid upon her trembling knees the divine burden with which he had respectfully laden his shoulders. Then the Blessed Virgin could give herself up to the bitter joy of pressing to her suffering and bleeding heart the disfigured body of her Son, and of applying her colourless lips to the wounds which had been made by the nails of the cross. Magdalen on her knees, bathed with her warm tears the bleeding feet of her Lord, and moaned like a wounded dove. In the background of this picture of desolation were the women of Galilee, weeping. 3 During this time, some of Joseph's servants prepared the perfumes on the stone of unction, 4 and others opened the sepulchre hewn out of the rock, which was to receive the mortal remains of the Son of God.

1 Pliny and Strabo speak of this earthquake. " It was so violent," say both these authors, " that it was felt even as far as Italy."

2 According to the Mussulmans, Jesus Christ is not dead. " The Jews did not put Jesus Christ to death," says Mahomet; " a phantom body deceived their barbarity; they did not crucify him; God assumed him to himself." (Koran, c. 4.) The Mussulman tradition says, that when the judgment trumpet shall sound, Aisa (Jesus Christ) will descend from heaven to the earth, and will announce to all its inhabitants the great day of the last judgment: then he will die, and be buried at the side of Mahomet: when the dead shall come forth from their graves, both shall arise together, and ascend into heaven. Burckhardt, who visited the great mosque of Medina, where are the tombs of Mahomet, Aboubekir, and Omar, three tombs of black stone, covered with precious stuffs and surrounded with magnificent ex voto's, says that a vacant place has been left by the side of Mahomet's tomb for the reception of Jesus after his death. Above this place and the tomb of Mahomet, was hung a magnificent brocade cloth enriched with diamonds, which was stolen by Sioud when he took Medina.

3 There are some authors who hold that these holy women picked up some of the earth quite saturated with the precious blood of Jesus Christ, and that it was by this means that some of it has been in the possession of certain churches in France, as St. Denis, and the Sainte-Chapelle, of Paris.

4 The stone of the anointing is at present in the chapel of Calvary; it has been necessary, for its preservation, to cover it with white marble and surround it with an iron balustrade.

The History Of The Blessed Virgin, Translated From The French By The Very Rev. F. C. Husenbeth, D.D., V.G. Part 44.

MARY ON CALVARY. PART 2.

The next day, the chief priests and Pharisees dragged Jesus before Pontius Pilate, who was supremely odious to them since the affair of the imperial standards, which he had introduced by night into Jerusalem; 1 but as they hated the Son of God much mere, and as the Romans alone could condemn him to death, 2 they were resigned to appear at the pretorium of this idolater, after taking the most minute precautions to avoid exposing themselves to any unclean contact with his garments, his standards, and even his tribunal, which would have rendered them impure for the whole day. After doing everything, therefore, to avoid so serious an inconvenience, these scrupulous men accused Jesus of having perverted the people by his doctrine, of having opposed their paying tribute to Caesar, and, finally, of having taken the seditious title of the King of the Jews.—As many falsehoods as words.

Jesus met these false accusations only with silence. Pilate, convinced of the profound wickedness of the accusers, and the perfect innocence of the accused, would have saved Jesus: he did not succeed. The Pharisees, skilful in raising popular tumults, worked up the people, who seditiously demanded the death of the descendant of their ancient kings; and the governor, who knew well how to appease the clamours of the Jews, in a way perfectly oriental, when he chose to do so, was content tamely to defend against the madmen who wanted to force from him an unjust judgment, the innocent man whom he ought to have protected with firmness. Wearied with their clamours, overcome by their persistence, the Roman washed his hands, of the sentence which he pronounced. 3 After which,—no doubt with a view to excuse himself for his show of clemency towards Jesus Christ, and to win back the hearts of the populace of Jerusalem, whom he had recently had beaten by his lictors in a commotion, 4 on occasion of the sacred treasure, which he wanted to grasp largely, under pretence of building an aqueduct which they did not want,—he had the Son of David and Solomon scourged with rods, while the deicidal people applauded, who had dared to take upon their own heads, and those of their children, the terrible responsibility of his death. This done, he delivered him up, at the same time admiring and lamenting over him, 5 to the insults of a soldiery whom the princes of the synagogue, who had a positive horror of them, had condescended to corrupt, that their own hatred might be the better served; 6 for they knew how to hate strongly, these zealots for the law of Moses, who would kill and divide Christ " for the love of God! "

When Jesus had arrived at the court of the pretorium, they made him sit down on a broken column, 7 and the whole cohort did their utmost to disport themselves with him in the most atrocious and insolent manner. It was the season when the dangerous rhamnus 8—which long before had entangled in its thorny thickets the symbolical Jamb for the sacrifice of Abraham 9—was in fall flower ; one of the soldiers ran to gather a branch of it, and made a mock crown, the flowers of which were soon tinged with his blood, and every thorn gave him a deep and insupportable wound. After stripping him like a slave, they threw over his shoulders a purple rag, they put a reed in his hand for a sceptre, and they saluted, with bitter sarcasms and derisive genuflexions, that mockery of royalty. His whole body was but one wound, for the scourges with sharp points had made red pieces of his flesh fly off a long way in the hall of executions ; spittle disfigured his face, where clots of dark blood settled down here and there from his wounded forehead, which his fettered hands could not reach I The chief priests, the doctors, and Pharisees, looked upon this scene with secret satisfaction ; these honourable men regarded compassion as baseness of soul! 10

When the Pharisees thought that the idolatrous soldiers had degraded Jesus in the eyes of the people enough to destroy the idea of his divinity, the approach of the Sabbath obliging them to hurry, they took their victim, whom the Roman governor gave up to them with reluctance, and, after loading his bleeding and mangled shoulders with the enormous weight of the cross, they urged on, with the staves of their lances, his painful and slow march toward Calvary, where they were going to crucify him.

Crowds of spectators lined the streets and stopped up the ways: some openly showed a savage joy, and cried anathema upon the son of David ; others pitied the fate of that youthful prophet, who had done nothing but good to men, and whom men had forsaken and betrayed. But these signs of barren sympathy made hardly any impression; the good wept in silence ; all those whom he had fed with five loaves in the desert, those whom he had healed, those whom he had loved were there, lost in the crowd, and no voice protested against his punishment ; 11 that one among the apostles who loved him most had cowardly denied him! the rest, with only one exception, had fled away and left him !

As he painfully passed down the long street which leads to the Judiciary Gate, a woman made her way through the crowd: this woman, remarkably beautiful, and bearing in her mild and sweet countenance the image of virtue, seemed wholly absorbed in unutterable grief; she suffered so much; she was so pale; her eyes, which had shed all their tears, cast a look so dead—a look of sorrow so holy upon the frightful wounds of our Saviour—that, when they beheld her, the daughters of Jerusalem muttered with compassion, " Poor Mother !

1 Josephus, Ant. Jud., liv. xviii. c. 4.

2 Before Judea had become subject to the .Romans, the sanhedrim possessed the right of life and death; but those conquerors deprived them of that privilege. It was the custom of the Romans to leave the conquered nations their temples and their gods; but in civil matters they were obliged to follow the laws and orders of the republic. At the time when Jesus Christ was condemned, the Romans were absolutely masters of temporal jurisdiction, and the authority of the Jewish senate was limited to affairs purely ecclesiastical. The Talmudists recognised it, for they acknowledged that the power of judging was taken away from the senate forty years before the destruction of Jerusalem, that is, three years before the death of Jesus Christ —(Basn., liv. vii. c. 4.)

3 The decree pronounced by Pilate against our Lord is preserved at Jerusalem. We give it here, not as an authentic document, but as a local tradition:—Jesum Nazarenum, subversorem gentis, contemptorem Casaris, it falsum Messiam, ut majorum susb gentis lestimonio probatum est, ducite ad communis supplicii locum, et cum ludibrio regiæ magistatis in medio duorum latronum affigite. I, lictor, expedi cruces. "Jesus of Nazareth, the subverter of the people, the despiser of Cæsar, and the false Messias, as it has been proved by the testimony of the ancients of this nation, take ye to the common place of punishment, and crucify him in derision of his royal majesty between two thieves. Go, lictor, prepare the crosses."—(Adricom., In descript. Jesu.)

4 Pilate undertook to build an aqueduct with the money of the sacred treasure, to bring water to Jerusalem from a distance of two hundred furlongs. The people, violently irritated against the Roman governor, whose intentions they discovered, assembled in large bodies of several thousand men in the streets and the public squares of Jerusalem, which they made ring with vociferations against Pilate, and there were some even, says Josephus, who exasperated the governor by gross insults; as it always happens with people in commotion. Pilate, who was not alarmed at a little, made his own people take great bludgeons under their garments, and surround the populace; when the seditious, after taking breath, recommenced their clamours and insults, Pilate gave the signal to his men to lay on them, and they began to strike more than they were ordered to do, and without any distinction gave great blows with their cudgels as well to those who were silent as to those who made a noise. These poor people, who were unarmed, were thus inhumanly treated, adds Josephus, with compassionate sympathy for the Jewish outbreak; some were killed, others wounded, and by this means was the tumult appeased.—(Joseph. Ant. Jud., lib. xviii. c. 4.)

5 Tiberias, in consequence of the accounts which came to him from Pontius Pilate, proposed to the senate to grant divine honours to Jesus Christ; Tertullian relates it as a well-known met in his Apology, which he presented to the senate in the name of the Church, and he would not have been willing to weaken a cause so good as his by things where it would have been so easy to confound him.— (Tertull. Apolog. 6; Euseb., Hist. Eccl. ii. 2.)

6 M. Salvador would fain exculpate his co-religionists, by imputing to the Roman soldiers the unheard-of outrages which Jesus received in the pretorium; but it is clear that the Romans acted only by the instigation of the enemies of Jesus Christ. The following is the opinion of St John Chrysostom on this subject:—"It is the Jews themselves who condemn Jesus to death, although they shelter themselves under the name of Pilate. ' They desire that his blood should fall upon themselves and upon their children.' It is they alone who direct all these insults against him, who bind nim, who lead him away to Pilate, and who cause him to be dragged along so cruelly by the soldiers. Pilate had not ordered any of these things.*' —(Serin. 77, in Matt)

7 This pillar, of grey marble, being only two feet high, is at Rome, in the church of St. Praxedes.

8 Some separate thorns of this crown, in the possession of individuals, are now recognised as the rhamnus spina Christi of Linnæus.

9 St. Jerom (in Philem.) says that the ram which Abraham saw in the thorn-bush was the figure of Jesus Christ crowned with thorns.

10 Basn., liv. vi. c. 17. The punishment of the whip was of very ancient usage among the Jews, and was not considered disgraceful. According to the Talmud, kings themselves were subjected to it on certain occasions. "Tradition informs us,' says Maimonides, "that the king may not have more than eighteen wives; if he marries one above that number, let him be whipped. If he has more horses than he has need of for the service of his chariot, let him be whipped. If he amasses more gold and silver than he wants for the payment of his ministers, let him be whipped."—(Maimonid., Halach., Malach., c. 3.)

11 We read in the Misnah that, in the time when the Jews were governed by their own laws, when a condemned person was conducted to the place of punishment, a herald of arms went before him, on horseback, making this proclamation,—" Such a one is condemned for such a crime; if any one can bring forward anything in his defence let him speak." If any one came forward, the criminal was taken back, and two judges, who walked one on each side of him, examined the validity of the reasons which it was attempted to substantiate; the prisoner might he led back in this manner as far as five times.—(Misnah, Tract, de Syned., c. vi. p. 233.) Jesus Christ being condemned by the Romans, could not avail himself of this national custom.

The History Of The Blessed Virgin, Translated From The French By The Very Rev. F. C. Husenbeth, D.D., V.G. Part 43.

MARY ON CALVARY. PART 1.

The palms which the children of the Hebrews had cast beneath the feet of Christ still strewed with their green tufts the rugged road of Bethania; the echo of the valley of cedars 1 still muttered the dying sounds of those cries of triumph and joy, with which the daughters of Sion had saluted the King who came to them poor, when Jerusalem was deeply moved by a new event of great and sad importance.

The princes of the priests, the senators, and Pharisees sought to get possession, even at the price of gold, and without shrinking from domestic treason, of a great criminal, who, as they said, placed both religion and the state in danger. This man must indeed have been very dangerous, since these honourable personages had bound themselves to an extraordinary fast to lay hold of him, 2 and had indeed distributed on this occasion some alms throughout the city with sound of trumpet. The Pharisees, those conscientious Jews, who plundered none but the uncircumcised, and who would have " left their neighbour at the bottom of a pit on the sabbath-day, though they would have speedily drawn out their ox or their ass, had undertaken to spread among the people—whom it is so easy to make impression upon, and to deceive— frightful reports and vague rumours, which had thrown them into a kind of feverish anxiety, from which they could not free themselves but by a fit of ferocity. Things being thus prepared, a well-armed troop were seen, one evening, coming down from Mount Moria, in which were some senators, and which was commanded by the captain of the guards of the temple; 3 the troop of servants of the princes of the priests came after, and at the head of this battalion, which marched on with a measured step by the light of those large lanterns which the Asiatics fix upon long poles, to raise them up high, and of some resinous torches, was a man with a low forehead, an irresolute look, and an abject countenance, whose girdle was swelled out with gold robbed from the poor, 4 to which he already added in imagination the thirty pieces of silver which he was to earn, by delivering up to the princes of the synagogue—too Jewish to pay for his treason beforehand—his master, his friend, his God! For it was the son of David, the triumpher but a few days before, Jesus of Nazareth, the great prophet of Galilee, at whose voice-greedy death gave up his prey, and whose commands the winds and the waves respected, whom the ruffians of the chief priests and the Pharisees were going in search of upon the Mount of Olives, whither he retired at night after teaching in the temple, as St. Luke relates. They had not dared to arrest him in open daylight, because they feared some resistance on the part of that multitude of disciples who came to hear him early in the morning beneath the porch of Solomon.

The armed troop, headed by the Iscariot, crossed the ravine where flows the Cedron, that torrent of dark waters, 5 which witnessed the passage of King David, when he fled with a handful of faithful servants from the rebels in the pay of his son Absalom. While the soldiers of the temple followed, silent and savage, along the banks of the torrent in which their torches were reflected, in order to reach the heights of Gethsemane, and while the night wind shook the dishevelled tops of the willows, which were soon to see Judas hanging upon one of their branches,—a punishment too light for such a traitor, but which is continually increased by the undying contempt of successive generations upon the globe,—a sad and solemn scene was passing in that garden of olives where the worthless apostle went in search of his master on purpose to destroy him.

After praying a long time, on his face on the ground, and undergoing that frightful agony which covered his divine forehead with a sweat of blood, Christ had risen up with submissive resignation to the awful will of his Father, and quite prepared to drink the chalice of bitterness to the dregs. He raised up his large, soft, and piercing eyes to the starry heavens, the stars of which told that it was midnight, and high in which shone the moon, that fair lamp of the firmament, whose useful light is blessed by the children of Abraham in their prayers; 6 she was then at the full, and cast a sheet of resplendent light upon that austere passage, where the dark mountains stood out from the limpid blue of heaven. Jerusalem, half-drowned in shade, and splendidly lighted up in places, sent forth afar the aromatic perfume of the rare plants of her gardens, and waved in the breath of the breeze her clusters of palm-trees, out of which arose white towers of marble. The silence was profound on the side of the mountains, but a slight murmur arose from the bottom of the valley:—Jesus suddenly started. There they are, he thought, and he slowly moved towards the place where he had left three of his apostles, whom he had chosen from all the rest to share his solitary night-watch. Alas, fatigue, or the lulling breath of the wind which made the grey foliage of the olive-trees rustle, had gradually made these negligent sentinels fall asleep. Jesus beheld them asleep for a moment with a holy feeling of grief; he had announced to them that his death was near, that the hour of peril was come, and they were asleep—they, his kinsmen, his friends, his chosen disciples, to all appearance indifferent about his danger or his death! 0 the vanity of benefits of ties of blood and friendship! They were awake enough on Thabor at the hour of the glorious transfiguration, but they slept in the hour of trial and distress!

A confused noise was heard in the hollow path which led up to the little village of Gethsemane; and soon the glare of torches shone upon the trees. Then Jesus, leaning over his apostles, who were still asleep, said to them in a low but deep voice, " Arise, let us go! Behold, he that hetrayeth me is at hand! " He had hardly pronounced these words, when Judas and his band arrived. Coming up to Jesus, with boldness in his eyes, and the smile of hypocrisy on his lips, he pointed him out to the hostile troop who were in search of him, by giving him that sacrilegious kiss which has taken his name. It was the signal agreed upon. Jesus Christ received the traitor with kindness, and said to him with meekness which pierced to the quick, " Friend, whereto art thou come ? "

Whereto was he come ? .... He was come to earn the thirty sides of silver of the synagogue. Avarice, which is a cold and calculating passion, commits ten times more crimes than violence, and much blacker crimes.

Judas had not time to answer this embarrassing question, for all the rest advancing, fell upon Jesus and laid hold on him. Then anger arose in the heart of Ben-Cephas, 7 the prince of the apostles; he drew his sword, and struck with it one of the servants of the high priest; but Jesus, restraining that arm which was the only one raised in his defence, commanded that the sword should be returned to its scabbard. " How then shall the scriptures be fulfilled, that so it must be done ? " The Lamb of God desired to be immolated for the sins of the world.

Then was heard in this enclosed spot mingled sounds of hurried footsteps, broken boughs, and cries of alarm; and a number of men were seen leaping over the low wall, scarcely three feet high, 8 which surrounded the garden: they were the disciples flying away! . . .

The hostile troop, after binding Jesus like a criminal, returned by the road to the Holy City, and went in the direction of the stone bridge which the Asmonean princes had thrown over the Cedron; but the people of Jerusalem, who had come out in crowds, already occupied it, and tradition relates that Jesus was dragged through this channel of water; which accomplished to the letter the prophecy, " He shall drink of the torrent in the way." The sacred footsteps of our Saviour, and the impression of one of his knees, are marked in the bed and on the stone margin of Cedron; at least this is asserted by the Christians of Jerusalem, who still show them. After ascending the hill of Sion, they entered Jerusalem by the Sterquilinian Gate, and repaired to Caiphas, the high priest, where the scribes and ancients were assembled. The chief priests and scribes then asked Jesus if he was the Christ. "HI shall tell you," our Saviour meekly answered, " you will not believe me." " Art thou the Son of God ? " asked Caiphas. " I am," replied Jesus. "He hath blasphemed!" cried the high priest, rending his garments. " He is guilty of death I " said the scribes and Pharisees.

" Then did they spit in his face," and they struck him with their fists, and gave him blows, while they cried out to him, in derision, "Prophesy, Christ, who is it that struck thee?"

During this time Peter, who had sworn to die rather than abandon him, denied him thrice in the court of the high priest.

1 Valley of Cedars, tho ancient name of the valley of Josaphat.

2 This anecdote is found in the Toldos, published by Huldric, p. 56 and 60.

3 This office is known by the gospel, which often speaks of these captains of the temple, who must be distinguished from the Roman commandant, who kept guard with his cohort round this great edifice to prevent crowds, and those disorderly acts to which the multitude might give occasion. These captains of the temple necessarily were Jews, and were taken from the priestly families; to them were confided the care and the keys of the temple, to provide for the safety of the treasury and the sacred vessels: by right of his birth this officer had the liberty to enter into all the counsels of the priests.— (Basn., liv. i. c. 4.)

4 "Then one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, he that was about to betray him, said, Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor ? Now he said this, not because he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and having the purbe, carried what was put therein."—(St. John xii. v. 4, 5, 6.)

5 The Cedron is a torrent which runs down the valley of Josaphat, between Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives. It was called Cedron^ because it has its course in deep and dark places; its Hebrew name signifies tenebroaus fuit,

6 The day of the new moon is a festival day for the Hebrews; the women abstain from work, and the devout fast the preceding day. After reciting a number of prayers in the synagogue, they take a repast, at which they are very merry. Three days after, the Jews assemble on a platform, where they look steadfastly at the moon, and bless God by a long prayer for having created it, and for renewing it, to teach the Israelites that they ought to become new creatures: " O moon! blessed be thy Creator, bleb»ed be He who made thee! " and then they jump three times, as high as they can, and say to the moon, " As we leap towards thee, without being able to touch thee, may our enemies rise up against us without reaching us! . . . ."—(Basn., liv. vii. c. 16.)

7 Peter Ben-Cephas (Peter, son of Peter); it is by this name that the prince of the apostles is known in the East.

8 The garden of Gethsemane or of Olives, at the foot of the mountain of that name, is surrounded by a wall three feet high; its length is two hundred paces, by a hundred and forty broad. There is a rock in it, forming a reddish-coloured cave, where it is said the three apostles fell asleep.—(Voyage de Jesus Christ, 44 voyage.) Its name of Gethsemane is derived from the goodness of the soil; in Hebrew Gethsemane signifies " fertile valley." * Josephus, Ant. Jud., liv. xviii. 0. 4.

The Passion Of Jesus; Mary's Compassion And Merit; Her Spiritual Motherhood — The Last Supper, Good Friday, The Cross—The Burial Of Jesus And The Solitude Of Our Lady (March Of The Year 29 ?) part 1

AS a perfect hearer of the word of God, Mary was in that respect, as in so many others, a type of the Christian Church.

As for the Jewish community, alas! they alienated themselves more and more from that word, to their complete reprobation. When Jesus, at each solemn feast, returned to teach at Jerusalem and in the Temple, the attacks of the Scribes and the Pharisees became at every visit more acute and vehement. During His last journey, at the time of the Feast of the Dedication in December of the year 28, and before the definite assertion of His divinity, some of the people had taken up stones and threatened to stone Him ; but even while departing from the town, Jesus did not cease His endeavours to win them to Him by His grace and goodness. In February or in the early part of March of the year 29, He went to visit Bethany, and by the striking miracle of the resurrection of Lazarus, He for the last time drew upon Himself the attention of well-disposed men, and of His irreconcilable enemies also. This supreme mercy, while it was the means of bringing about several important conversions, at the same time caused the Sanhedrim.to determine the death of Jesus. From thenceforth, the achievement of their purpose was only a question of time and opportunity.

Unknown to the great Council, and even against its will, this time was regulated by the divine wisdom. Jesus withdrew for some days to the little town of Ephraim, of the ancient tribe of Benjamin; then, as the time of that Passover drew nigh when the true victim should be sacrificed, He reappeared and came to finish His work.

Six days before the feast, He returned to Bethany. One of His disciples, Simon the Leper, gave a feast in His honour, at which Lazarus was present. Martha was this time also occupied with serving; and Mary, her sister, anointed the head of Jesus with precious spikenard ointment, and Jesus accepted this homage in token of His approaching burial. The faithful were grouped round the Master, and the Master by His acts and words presaged His approaching transition from the world to His Father.

It is very probable that Mary also was there, possibly among the band of Galileans who followed and attended upon Jesus, or more probably, like Jesus, she was hospitably welcomed to the house of Lazarus and his sisters.

On the day following the feast at Simon's house, she saw the crowd suddenly stirred at the news that Jesus was there, and that He was about to enter he town. People of Jerusalem, pilgrims to the Feast of the Passover, the special group of those who had been moved by the resurrection of Lazarus, all these cut palm-leaves and olive branches, and threw them with their garments before the Master, crying, "Hosanna: Blessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest! " Jesus accepted, He even called forth worship from these faithful hearts; but He wept over Jerusalem at the thought of the irremediable offence, which in a few days she would commit. Mary, intimately acquainted with the inclination of His heart, rejoiced to see the Messiah recognised and solemnly received in the capital of the kingdom of Israel; but the brightness of the present day gave her no illusions as to the real disposition of the people, and the sudden changes which she foresaw were in store for the morrow.

Even if she had not always clearly known when and how the " Father's work" would be accomplished, now that matters had progressed so far, she could not but see that the end must be very near. The fleeting enthusiasm of the crowd could not prevail against the persistent ill-will of the leaders. Because of this triumphal entry, Jesus was more than ever discussed and opposed; that very evening, the Messiah, now so clamorously applauded, would be alone; and, later, accompanied only by some of His disciples, He departed from the town, to seek repose and security at Bethany.

It is even possible that Jesus announced clearly to Mary that which she already foresaw. Who knows what intimate converse passed between them in the house of Martha and Lazarus, either during that Wednesday when Jesus did not return to Jerusalem, or on the Thursday before the departure for the Feast of the Passover ? In proportion to Mary's tenderness of heart, she felt a terror of the coming evil. It was the will of Jesus that even His own human nature should feel this terror, and that it should ask, if it were possible, to be spared the bitter cup. How then should Mary not experience this same horror, the same trembling in all her being, the same apprehensive feeling, the same repugnance of her will, before this approaching and inevitable suffering ? So could she also, without imperfection, suffer her nature to give some cry of anguish, or some conditional prayer, even like that of Jesus, in order that, if it were possible, the terrible hour might be averted or delayed.

Herein is one of the aspects of truth, and it is an aspect which the poetry of Christian ages has often rendered in a most touching manner, when it has attempted to picture this last meeting between the mother and her Son. But it is also an aspect which it is necessary to take care not to consider by itself—and in poetry this has not always been done —if we would not lessen the importance of Mary's personality. In her, at the moment when Jesus is confronted by His Passion, there is much more than a loving and fearful mother; she is then, more than ever, the intimate associate of the Redeemer. If Jesus, some days or some hours beforehand, desired by a last conversation to prepare her for that great trial—and this is an hypothesis which heart and mind may easily consider probable—He must have talked with her in a manner more lofty than we can imagine, of the great sacrifice of the Passion, of the redemption of the world, and of the spiritual life of the soul. Afterwards—and this is not an hypothesis, but a definite statement of Gospel history—Mary followed Jesus in the path of His sorrows, and accompanied Him to Calvary. And, in the opinion of theologians and saints, it was in all fitness, if not indeed a necessity, that at the hour of the supreme sacrifice she should thus be near her Son; both the great divine scheme and the harmony of God's purpose regarding her required it to be so. At the same time that the bloody Passion completed and perfected Jesus as our Saviour, 1 Mary, the queen of saints and our mother, was also completed and perfected in passing through that anguish.

This was the perfecting of her holiness; for those whom God desires to make holy, He " conformed to the image of His Son, 2 either by sending them trials of the flesh and spirit like those of Jesus, or by uniting them to Him in the contemplation, full of love and compassion, of His sufferings. It is remarkable that the best loved of the apostles, and the only one who followed Jesus to the cross, was also the only one who did not suffer a violent death. May it not be, that in his case the part he took in the Passion of Jesus, which was accomplished before his eyes, bringing him, so to speak, into direct communion with the sufferings of the Master, served as a kind of exalted martyrdom in place of the martyrdom of blood and of the sword ? And does not this help us to understand something of Mary's compassion ? " It is therefore greater to suffer with Christ than to suffer for Him ; there is in this a closer union with Christ, a more efficacious influence of the Passion of Christ, a deeper anguish, when one endures, not His own sufferings, but rather those of Christ." 3 It was by this martyrdom of the heart that the holiness of the queen of martyrs had to be perfected.

Therefore, that day of sadness was for her a day of inestimable merit. Taken by itself, suffering is neither the only nor the principal source of merit. But when it is joined to love, which gives to it its real value, there is not, upon earth, and in the present order of things, a better means of acquiring merit. This providential law is clearly indicated even by the mystery of the cross. Strictly speaking, it was at the time of the Passion that the merits of Jesus were accepted on our account; for it was at that moment that it pleased God to accept the infinite merits of His whole life, united to the infinite merit of His sufferings and death. Mary, who was always closely connected with her Son, suffered with Him; we can have no idea of the anguish she then endured, for the perfection of her nature and the spiritual gifts she had received, augmented in her the power of suffering to its utmost limit; her sorrowing love was of an heroic character, a form of love particularly meritorious and most appropriate to our earthly life ; by it she connects her acts with the acts of the infinitely pure love of Christ, at that time when He loved, even unto death, God His Father and all creation in Him. At the same time that she acquired for herself these gifts of grace, Mary also obtained merit for all those whom God has called to a spiritual life. Without doubt, these merits obtained for us were of a different kind to those of her Son. He is the only mediator, and the mediator for Mary, as well as for the rest of mankind, because His mediation only is strictly necessary and sufficient for giving us access to God. To Him alone belongs the merit of " excellence," of " strict and rigorous justice," of " full condignity " ; for He alone, by the especial efficacy of His acts, bestows the just reward of heavenly blessings and of eternal life, and offers to heaven a reparation fully commensurate with the majesty of the offended God. The merit that one pure human being gains for another is only a merit " of congruity "; 4 and moreover, it is only through the power of the merits of Jesus Christ that a human being possesses this merit. But, this reservation being made, God desires that His faithful, while entirely dependent upon His Son, should also obtain merit for one another.

From SAINT MARY THE VIRGIN BY RENE-MARIE DE LA BROISE
TRANSLATED BY HAROLD GIDNEY

1 Hebrews ii. 10.

2 Romans viii. 29.

3 Guillaume le Petit (abbot of Bec ?), On the Canticles, iii. 10 (quoted from Terrien, La mere des hommes, t. iii. p. 227-8).

4 Christ alone is worthy to obtain grace for others de condigno; Mary and other righteous souls merit grace for themselves de condigno, but for others de congruo.

The Seven Dolours of the Blessed Virgin. 5.—The Crucifixion

Duccio - The Crucifixion

The Via Crucis, that Way of the Cross, which was a way of unutterable sorrows, has been made. Blood is tracked along the streets of Jerusalem from Pilate's hall to the city gate through which that procession passed ; is tracked along the winding, rocky way which it took from the gate. Simon of Cyrene has borne—first unwillingly, then with a mysterious joy, which flooded his soul and was succeeded by the gift of faith—that same cross on which Jesus is to redeem the world. Veronica, too, has won, by her ardent devotion, her uncalculating charity, that image on her mantle, which is still shown on Good-Friday from a balcony in Saint Peter's Basilica. Both have been immortalized by their compassionate service to the Man of Sorrows.

And now we approach, actually stand on the summit of that hill of Calvary, bearing the ghastly name of Golgotha, or place of skulls; and here, in full sight of the Holy City, the City of David, they crucify Him of whom the prophets spake and the psalmist sang; for whom the world had waited and longed for four thousand years;—crucify Him between two thieves, adding ignominy to ignominy; thus fulfilling the prediction of Isaiah : " He was reputed with the wicked ; and He hath borne the sins of many, and hath prayed for the transgressors."

But in return for these ignominies, these tortures, there comes from the inexhaustible patience of the Divine Heart this one ejaculation: " Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

It was high noon, and the March sun shone unclouded from the sky, when that space which was seen between two crosses on the summit of Calvary when Mary met her Son in the way, was filled, bearing on its beam the Body of the God-Man, on its arms the pierced hands of the Victim of sin ; but no sooner was He thus lifted up than a darkness more appalling than any blackness preceding a tornado covered not only Mount Calvary, Judea, but the entire earth. For three hours it hung like a pall over the world, so that Dionysius the Areopagite exclaimed in his fair city of Athens : " Either the God of nature is suffering or the framework of the world is breaking up ! " And for three hours that Body of the Incarnate Word hung while amid the surrounding darkness, was seen distinctly from the Holy City; and for three hours Mary, maiden and mother, stood by the cross of her crucified Son. She did not lean against that cross, she did not lean upon the faithful women who had accompanied her; simply stood under His pierced right hand.

The first hour had been passed when the eyes, clotted and bloodshot, sought those of Mary lifted to His own; and the lips parted with these words : " Mother, behold thy son'" Then the eyes turned to the Beloved Disciple standing under His left hand as He said : " Behold thy Mother ! " " O what change to thee!" exclaims Saint Bernard ;

"Thou art given John for Jesus; the servant for his Lord; the disciple for his Master; the son of Zebedee for the Son of God ; a mere man for very God ! " A dolor in itself.

Again that voice is heard in its low minor key : " I thirst ! " Jesus thirsts ! He who made the world ; who set the springs of water in the deep rocks, protects them by shadows in the dense forests where the shy stag can quench its thirst at noonday; sends down the dew at evening to revive the fainting flowers over the whole earth,—calls for one drop of all that He has created and blessed both for man and beasts and fowl of the air; and Mary cannot give Him the drop for which He sighs so piteously. Another dolor within our dolor.

Again a voice, but not the voice of Jesus, breaks on Mary's ear—the voice of the Good Thief, the only alleviation which was vouchsafed during three hours of agony on the cross: " Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom." And the tender voice she loves so well is heard: " This day thou shalt be with Me in paradise.

But now it is a cry—a cry that pierces the heart of Mary, close beside Him in the awful darkness : "My God, My God ! why hast Thou forsaken Me ?" Not only pierces her heart, but opens before her undreamed-of abysses of anguish in the soul of Jesus! Another dolor within our dolor.

To this agonizing appeal succeeds a cry which is an utter offering up of his dying humanity—an offering, too, in behalf of humanity all over the world dying at that moment, of all who are to die to the last moment of time, to be echoed by the dying through all ages—"Father into Thy hands I commend my spirit."

Another cry, the last cry, so strong that it startles the centurion, who exclaims : "Verily this Man was the Son of God ! " For that cry, Consummatum est! —" It is consummated ! "—tells Mary that the soul of her Jesus has left the earth which He had blessed with His incarnate presence for thirty-three years ; has left the world He came to redeem; and who can tell the absolute vacuum left in the heart of Mary ! She sees the beautiful head—gory indeed, ghastly indeed, but, oh, how beautiful still!—fall on His breast; and she knows that her Jesus is dead. While Jesus lives Mary stands. Can we wonder if she sinks on the arms of her friends as gently as the head of Jesus had sunk on His breast ?

At this moment the veil of the Temple, the veil that hid the Holy of Holies, is rent in twain from the top to the bottom; the earth quakes beneath her; the very rocks are rent; the graves of Jerusalem are opened ; but none of these horrors can stir the heart of Mary, for they stir not the Heart of Jesus.

While no hand is yet known to have delineated this divine tragedy on any wall of an early catacomb, or upon any wall of chapel or basilica before that which in this last half of our present century has been laid open to view in the subterranean Church of Saint Clement, Rome, the perfection of this Crucifixion, as a type, is proof that it was treated in the liturgical books from a very early period ; and this Crucifixion itself must have been executed long before the year 800, when the Church of Saint Clement was so severely injured by an earthquake as to necessitate the building of another basilica on its still sound walls; and from that time until 1858 was hermetically sealed to the eyes of men. It is painted on a wide pilaster forming a right angle with the end of the nave. Our Lord is represented attached to the cross by four nails, the arms horizontal, the head above the cross-beam; so that He seems literally to hang there of His own free will.

On the right side stands His Blessed yet sorrowing Mother, both hands raised to Him as if in sympathy; on the left hand Saint John, his right hand raised also in the same spirit, but in his left hand is the scroll of an Evangelist. Simple as the conception is, it embodies the Gospel story, and in no Crucifixion have the relative places of the Blessed Virgin and of Saint John been deviated from. Although the old Saint Clement was in darkness, the tradition which it followed in this instance was the inheritance of Christendom ; and from that time to this has been adhered to; and from that time no subject has been so near to the heart of Christendom, or so universally chosen by her artists.

The Crucifixion by Giotto di Bondone

From the first, the Blessed Virgin and Saint John were introduced, we think, invariably; and later, in the Church of Saint Francis at Assisi, in the series begun by Cimabue and finished by Giotto, the Crucifixion is given with all its attendant circumstances. In this picture Longinus has already pierced the side of Our Lord; and, as if this act had opened the eyes of his mind, he has left his steed and is kneeling on the ground with his hands lifted in adoration. Saint Mary Magdalene is embracing the cross on one side, Saint Francis on the other; and in the centre of a group of pitying women is Our Lady, who has sunk to the ground in a swoon. Troops of horsemen are leaving Mount Calvary, and the space on the right is occupied by the followers of the crucified One.

Duccio's Crucifixion dwells upon the sorrow of Our Lady in a still more marked manner. The Lord of Glory is dead; the spear has pierced His side; and directly in the foreground is the beautiful group of Our Lady tenderly supported by the holy women who are her companions, while Saint John takes her hands on his own. She does not actually swoon, but the revulsion of mortal weakness has come after those three hours of standing immovably ;—one of Duccio's loveliest groups, and in no way contradicting the account by Saint John ; since it represents, we may say, the scene a few moments after the death of Our Lord, and is full of the tenderest human sentiment.

Spanish chapel of Santa Maria Novell

Simoni Memmi, in the series painted by him in the Spanish chapel of Santa Maria Novella, gives a magnificent epitome of the event in the arch above and around the altar ; so arranged as to give the procession to Mount Calvary, the scene immediately following the Crucifixion—soldiers, guardsmen, mounted officers, and those who derided Our Lord, saying : " Vah ! vah ! " All are there, with the crucified thieves, the angels in the air lamenting. But on the right side are the holy women around Our Lady; and Saint Mary Magdalene is entreating a soldier, who
turns toward her, to allow them to go near to the cross. In this, Our Lady stands, with clasped hands but perfectly quiet, looking at her suffering Son, while the Magdalene entreats for her.

On the bronze panels of the pulpit in Saint Lorenzo, in Florence, Donatello has given the whole story of the Passion and death of Our Lord with a vividness which seems to throw all other representations into shadow, as we follow out the awful story. In this Crucifixion, how cuirassed men, soldiers with their spears, horsemen who draw their helmets over their eyes to shut out the horrors of a scene more awful than the eye of man had ever before witnessed, throng upon one another! How the three crosses and the three victims, how angels and demons, how the spears and the banners fill the air ! And we actually see the blackness, the more than midnight darkness of that eclipse; see and feel it as actual. But in the midst of all this how the head of Jesus bends toward the Mother, standing, with bowed head and clasped hands, beside Him! Our dolor is there in all its intensity: fills the eye, fills the heart, as it fills the very centre of our foreground.

With the Crucifixion by Fra Angelico, in Saint Mark's at Florence, we enter upon another phase of its representation. We have the reality of the three crosses, the Lord of Glory crucified between two thieves ; but instead of helmeted warriors, guardsmen, executioners, we have the saints of all times, especially of those religious orders that favor meditation j for it is the reality, as it comes before the faithful by way of meditation, that Fra Angelico delineates in his Crucifixion; drawing forth that bundle of myrrh of which Saint Bernard speaks as lying always on his breast " to make up for the sheaf of merits " which he knew he had not. "To think of these troubles and griefs," he says, u is real wisdom. In them I have determined to find perfect righteousness, full knowledge, plentiful salvation, and abundant merit. It is the thought of these troubles and woes of His that cheereth me when I am afflicted, and maketh me grave when it is well with me. Do ye also gather you a bundle of this beloved myrrh."

Here we have the motive of Angelico's picture. This is why we see Saint John Baptist, still as the precursor, beside the cross; why we see Saint Lawrence with his gridiron, Saint Benedict with his book of rules, Saint Dominic and Saint Francis with their disciples. But meditation is sure to keep in mind Our Blessed Lady and her Dolors ; and the " Stabat Mater " echoes in every line of this picture; sets to its plaintive measure every thought of the mind, every compassionate impulse of the heart of him who conceived and executed it. She is seen here sustained by Mary of Salome, and by Saint John as her son; while before her, on her knees, the Magdalene embraces her as the Mother of Sorrows ; in the abandonment of her own grief, compassionating Our Lady.

Luca della Robbia, a contemporary of Fra Angelico, whose tender piety has interpreted in so many of his works the choicest sentiments of the Christian soul, has companioned the Angelical in the ways of meditation. In his Crucifixion, how close to that cross stands the Mother, looking down in her own anguish upon St. Francis, as if to console him for the wounds borne for the love of Jesus ; while " the most beautiful Saint John in the world " stands and adores the Master; adoring angels filling the air, bringing heaven and its transports to the King of Glory in His humiliation !

It was in this same spirit of meditation that Perugino composed his " Great Crucifixion," as it is called, for the chapel of Saint Mary Magdalene of Pazzi in Florence. Instead of a crowded scene, the very air vibrating with the ghastly horrors of a midnight at noonday, three wide arches stand between us and a vast landscape—hills, valleys, inland seas, towns. Trees, just foliating as if in spring, crown the near hills, and fleecy clouds float through the broad spaces of sky. Within the central arch stands the cross which bears the crucified One, the beautiful head, with its circlet of delicate thorns and the cruciform nimbus, slightly bowed as if in death; the arms are nearly horizontal; the whole figure self-sustained and of the perfection of beauty in its proportions, breathing repose, as it were, in every line. At the foot of the cross kneels Saint Mary Magdalene,—one of Perugino's Magdalenes, unlike all others in the tenderness of its absorbed devotion; the eyes raised to her Lord, but the lids heavy with weeping ; the hands gently joined at the finger tips. It is Mary of Bethany, who had chosen the better part.

Within the left-hand arch stands Saint John, his eyes fixed upon the face of his Divine Master; the arms and hands dropped at his side, as if saying : "Was ever sorrow like this sorrow ? Was ever love like this love ?" Nothing more compassionate, nothing more gentle, nothing more affectionate, was ever imagined as a Saint John. Very near to him kneels Saint Benedict," his face, with its deep look of abiding compassion for his Lord, raised to Him hanging on His cross.

Within the right-hand arch stands Our Lady, looking out upon the world which was given to her by Our Lord when He gave her Saint John as her son. A desolation not to be put into words pervades the whole figure. The hands, held downward, do not clasp, but interweave in the distress of this desolation ; there is a weariness in the eyes like those of patient watchers by beds of sickness and of death; and the sad sweetness of the mouth is that of one who suffers without complaint. Near her kneels Saint [Bernard, his tender words of sympathy giving him this place beside Our Lady.

But Steinle, of our own day, brings us back to the actual keynote of our theme. We see the domes of Jerusalem; before the cross stands Mary; Jesus is not yet there, only the sword promised by Simeon. The head is bowed; the hands and intertwining fingers raised to her agonized breast, not to avert but to accept this dolor of the Crucifixion.

From The Seven Dolors of the Blessed Virgin Mary By By Eliza Allen Starr