II The Presentation of the Virgin
(Detail)
In the town of Nazareth many centuries ago lived a pious old couple, named Joachim and Anna. It is said that they “divided all their substance in three parts:” one part “for the temple,” another for “the poor and pilgrims,” and the third for themselves. The delight of their old age was their only child Mary, who afterwards became the mother of Jesus. She had been born, as they believed, in answer to their prayers, and they cherished her with peculiar devotion.
That Mary was a good and lovable child beyond common measure we can have no doubt: she was set apart for a strange and holy service. The beautiful story of her early life is told in an old Latin book called the “Legenda Aurea,” or the “Golden Legend.” This was a collection of old legends written out for the first time by Jacopo de Voragine, an Italian archbishop of the thirteenth century. The early English translation by Caxton, in which we still read the book, preserves the quaint flavor of the original. There is one portion of it describing the dedication, or presentation, of the Virgin in the temple. Before Mary was born, the mother, Anna, had promised the angel of the Lord that she would present the coming child as an offering to the Lord. Long before her day, a certain Hannah had made a like vow under similar circumstances. Her son Samuel, a “child obtained by petition,” was “returned,” or “lent,” to the Lord as long as he lived. 6 A child thus dedicated was early carried to the temple to be educated within its precincts for special service to God.
The presentation of Mary was on this wise: “And then when she had accomplished the time of three years … they brought her to the temple with offerings. And there was about the temple, after the fifteen psalms of degrees, fifteen steps or grees to ascend up to the temple, because the temple was high set. And nobody might go to the altar of sacrifices that was without, but by the degrees. And then our Lady was set on the lowest step; and mounted up without any help as she had been of perfect age, and when they had performed their offering, they left their daughter in the temple with the other virgins, and they returned into their place. And the Virgin Mary profited every day in all holiness, and was visited daily by angels, and had every day divine visions.” 7 We see at once the picture there is in the story, the little girl ascending alone the long flight of steps, with the fond parents gazing after her in wonder. Many artists have put the subject on canvas, and among them our Venetian painter Titian. His is an immense picture, from which the central figure only is reproduced in our illustration.
We must imagine ourselves standing with a great throng of people in the public square in front of the temple. Men, women and children jostle one another near the steps. The old man Joachim and his wife Anna are easily singled out among the number. The windows of the adjoining palaces are full of faces looking into the square. A group of senators stand somewhat apart, looking on. An old peasant woman with a basket of eggs sits in the shadow of the steps. All eyes are turned towards the little child who is walking alone up the great stone staircase. On the topmost step the high priest advances to meet her, resplendent in his rich priestly garments.
The figure of the little Virgin is very quaint in a long gown made of some shimmering blue stuff. The golden hair is brushed back primly and woven into a heavy braid, whence it at last escapes in beautiful profusion. It would be hard to guess the child’s age, for her demeanor is that of a little woman as she gathers her long skirt daintily in her right hand. She carries herself erect in the new dignity of the great moment, and advances with perfect self-confidence. The face, however, is quite childlike and innocent, and is lifted to the priest’s with a happy smile. The left arm is raised in a gesture of wonder and delight.
The whole figure is surrounded by a halo of golden light. This is the oval-shaped glory which the Italians call the mandorla, from the word meaning “almond.” It is of course the symbol of the virgin’s peculiar sanctity. The painter has not tried to make the little girl particularly pretty, but he gives her the indescribable charm which we call winsomeness. She is perhaps one of the most lovable children art has ever produced.
As we study the artist’s method of work in the picture we see how very simply the figure is drawn. Titian was fond of rich and voluminous draperies, as we shall learn from several examples which are to follow. Here, however, he draws a dress with tight sleeves and scanty skirt absolutely without decoration of any sort. It is this simplicity which gives the childlike appearance to the figure.
There is a pathos in the little figure which we cannot altogether appreciate in our illustration. We have to remember that the whole picture measures twenty-five feet in width by eleven in height, and then imagine how tiny the child looks ascending alone the great staircase in the centre of this vast panorama. The isolation of the figure suggests the singular destiny of Mary, set apart from others in the loneliness of a unique service.