r, St. Andrew, St. Thomas holding
the girdle,[1] St. Francis, and St. Clara, all looking up with
ecstatic devotion, except St. Clara, who looks down with a charming
modesty.
[Footnote 1: St. Thomas is called in the catalogue, James, king of
Arragon.]
* * * * *
In early pictures, ST. ANNA, the mother of the Virgin, is very seldom
introduced, because in such sublime and mystical representations of
the _Vergine Dea_, whatever connected her with realities, or with her
earthly genealogy, is suppressed. But from the middle of the fifteenth
century, St. Anna became, from the current legends of the history
of the Virgin, an important saint, and when introduced into the
devotional groups, which, however, is seldom, it seems to have
embarrassed the painters how to dispose of her. She could not well be
placed below her daughter; she could not be placed above her. It is a
curious proof of the predominance of the feminine element throughout
these representations, that while ST. JOACHIM the father and ST.
JOSEPH the husband of the Virgin, are either omitted altogether, or
are admitted only in a subordinate and inferior position, St. Anna,
when she does appear, is on an equality with her daughter. There is
a beautiful example, and apt for illustration, in the picture by
Francia, in our National Gallery, where St. Anna and the Virgin are
seated together on the same throne, and the former presents the apple
to her divine Grandson. I remember, too, a most graceful instance
where St. Anna stands behind and a little above the throne, with her
hands placed affectionately on the shoulders of the Virgin, and raises
her eyes to heaven as if in thanksgiving to God, who through her had
brought salvation into the world. Where the Virgin is seated on the
knees of St. Anna, it is a still later innovation. There is such a
group in a picture in the Louvre, after a famous cartoon by Leonardo
da Vinci, which, in spite of its celebrity, has always appeared to me
very fantastic and irreverent in treatment. There is also a fine print
by Carraglio, in which the Virgin and Child are sustained on the
knees of St. Anna: under her feet lies the dragon. St. Roch and St.
Sebastian on each side, and the dead dragon, show that this is a
votive subject, an expression of thanksgiving after the cessation of
a plague. The Germans, who were fond of this group, imparted, even to
the most religious treatment, a domestic sentiment.
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