Evangelists of Art Part 2

[Ill.u.s.tration: WISHART DISPENSING THE SACRAMENT BEFORE HIS MARTYRDOM.

From a photograph by J. & R. Annan, Glasgow, by permission of Mr. J. C.

Buist.]

WISHART DISPENSING THE SACRAMENT BEFORE HIS MARTYRDOM

_With desire I have desired to eat this pa.s.sover with you before I suffer_.--LUKE xxii. 15.

Here we have a picture which represents a Communion service, yet a service which is different in some ways from those which you have been accustomed to see. The company is a small one, for there are only about a dozen people present. They are met, not in a church, but in a rather bare and plainly furnished room. In the centre of the picture there is a table covered with a white cloth, on which is set a salver with some bread and three wine cups upon it. Behind the table a man is standing and speaking, with his hands stretched out over the bread and the wine before him. He is tall and bearded, and wears a simple dress of dark colour. His face is pale, and his whole look is full of an earnest gladness. Beside him sits a richly dressed lady, with a countenance of rare beauty and goodness. Her eyes are fixed on the speaker, and she is drinking in eagerly every word that he utters.

Beyond her, at one end of the table, sits a gentleman with a refined and thoughtful face. He also is leaning forward and listening with the deepest interest. Opposite him, at the other end of the table, an old man is sitting very erect, with one hand resting on a staff, and the other grasping the arm of his chair. He too is gazing steadfastly at the man who speaks. Beside the old man is a woman, and on her knee is a little child who is playing with one of the pieces of bread on the table. At the side of the table next us there is a chair with a soldier's round s.h.i.+eld set against it and a sword lying upon it. A sweet-faced little girl is leaning over the chair and clasping her arms round the hilt of the sword. She is another eager listener, and she seems to understand all that is being said. Behind her stands the man to whom the sword and the s.h.i.+eld belong. Beyond them is another man whose head is bowed down upon the back of the gentleman's chair, and who appears to be hiding his face in sorrow. At the further side of the table are two or three men. Above them a curtain hangs from the roof. The only other bit of ornament in the room is a tall vase which stands on the floor in front of the table. Behind the speaker there is an open doorway, guarded by a soldier with a steel cap on his head.

You will ask when and where this Communion service took place, and who the people in the picture are.

Well, the time is the year 1546--nearly 360 years ago. The place is the Castle of Saint Andrews. The speaker is George Wishart, one of the early martyrs of the Scottish Reformation. The scene took place on the morning of the day--the 28th of March--when he was burned to death at the stake in front of the Castle. The gentleman at the end of the table is the Governor of the Castle. The beautiful lady is his wife.

The little girl and the baby boy are their children. The others present are their guests, or their servants, or friends of the prisoner. And the soldier at the door is there to see that the condemned man does not escape.

Let me tell you a little more about George Wishart, and about what took place that March morning. Wishart was a learned Scottish gentleman, who had come to believe in the gospel as Luther and the other Reformers preached it. He had been banished from his native land by the bishops for teaching the Greek New Testament at Montrose. After spending some years at the University of Cambridge in England he had returned to Scotland in 1544, and had preached the Reformed doctrines with great earnestness and success in Montrose, Dundee, Ayrs.h.i.+re, and Haddington.

In the last-named place he had among his followers John Knox, who was then a young man, and who afterwards became the great leader of the Scottish Reformation. Before going to Haddington he had paid a second visit to Dundee, where the plague was raging at the time, and had ministered with great fearlessness and tenderness to those who were suffering from this dreadful disease. There is still standing in Dundee one of the old city gates--the Cowgate Port, where Wishart preached to the healthy on one side, and to the plague-stricken on the other. When in Dundee at this time, he narrowly escaped being murdered by the enemies of the truth; and after he left Haddington he fell into the hands of Cardinal Beaton, who was the leader of the Roman Catholic party in Scotland. He was taken to Saint Andrews, tried for heresy, sentenced to death, and condemned to be executed the next day.

After spending the night in prayer, he was visited next morning by a good man called John Winram, who was then the Sub-Prior of the Abbey of Saint Andrews, and who afterwards joined the Reformed Church. Winram had a long talk with him in his prison cell, and asked him if he was willing to receive the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Wishart answered, _Most willingly, so I may have it ministered according to Christ's inst.i.tution, under both heads, of bread and wine_. Winram then went to Cardinal Beaton and the other bishops, and asked that this might be granted to the prisoner. But they refused, answering that it was not reasonable to grant any spiritual benefit to an obstinate heretic, condemned by the Church.

After Wishart heard this he was invited to breakfast by the Governor of the Castle, and he accepted readily, saying, _I perceive, you to be a good Christian, and a man fearing G.o.d_. When they were at breakfast, Wishart said to his host, _I beseech you in the name of G.o.d, and for the love you bear to our Saviour Jesus Christ, to be silent a little while, till I have made a short exhortation, and blessed this bread which we are to eat, so that I may bid you farewell_. Then he spoke to the company for about half an hour on the inst.i.tution of the Lord's Supper, and the death of Christ, and exhorted them to love one another and to live holy lives. Afterwards he blessed and broke the bread, and gave a portion to every one present. And in the same way, after tasting the wine, he pa.s.sed the cup round them all, bidding them to remember with thankfulness the death of the Lord Jesus Christ. _As to myself_, he said, _there is a more bitter portion prepared for me, only because I have preached the true doctrine of Christ, which bringeth salvation. But pray you the Lord with me that I may take it patiently, as out of His hand_. Then he concluded with another thanksgiving, and went back to his own chamber to wait for the hour of his martyrdom, which came very soon.

The stake at which he was to be burned was fixed in the ground in front of the Castle, and the Cardinal and his friends sat on cus.h.i.+ons at the windows, to enjoy the sight of his martyrdom. Wishart was led to the place with his hands bound behind his back, a rope round his neck, and an iron chain about his waist. He knelt down and prayed thrice, _Oh, thou Saviour of the world, have mercy on me! Father of heaven, I commend my spirit into Thy holy hands_. The executioner knelt down before him and asked his forgiveness for what he was about to do.

Wishart said, _Come hither_; and then kissed his cheek, with the words, _Lo, here is a token that I forgive thee. My heart, do thine office_.

When the flames leaped up around him, he cried to the Governor of the Castle, _This fire torments my body, but no way abates my spirit_.

Last of all he warned the Cardinal that his own doom was near at hand, and then he was strangled by the rope being pulled tightly about his neck, and his body was burned to ashes.

Now, if we come back to the picture of Wishart's last Communion, we shall find in it many deep and beautiful lessons, which even boys and girls can understand and learn.

You see that in the days of the Reformation there were good men and women, like John Winram, and the Governor of the Castle, and his wife, who sympathised with the Reformers, even though at first they did not come out boldly on their side. And there are still people, in the most unlikely places, who really love truth and goodness, and show their secret feeling at times in unexpected and surprising ways.

You see that we do not need bishops and priests to give us the Lord's Supper, but that this Sacrament can be enjoyed in the simplest way wherever two or three followers of the Lord Jesus are gathered together in His name. George Wishart's last Communion was strangely like the first Communion of all, which Jesus observed at Jerusalem with His disciples. Wishart, like his Master, was about to die for the truth.

He desired to hold this farewell feast with his friends. And in doing so he made use just of the food and drink of an ordinary meal.

And you see, lastly, that the Communion in the picture was like our own Communions in this, that children were present, looking on, and listening, and understanding something of what was said and done. I am sure the Governor's little girl would never forget that Communion, nor the good man who took such a touching farewell of his friends in the name of the Lord Jesus. I think that surely she would always remember not only George Wishart, but George Wishart's Master and Lord, of whom he spoke so earnestly, and for whom he was so willing to die. And I hope that you boys and girls who look on at the Communion services in your own church, and see the disciples of Jesus Christ eating the bread and drinking the wine in remembrance of Him, will understand something of what all this means, and will learn to love Him and serve Him and remember Him yourselves, and all your lives long.

THE RIDER ON THE WHITE HORSE

BY G. F. WATTS, R.A.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RIDER ON THE WHITE HORSE. By permission, from a photograph by Mr. Frederick Hollyer.]

THE RIDER ON THE WHITE HORSE

_And I saw, and behold, a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer_.--REV. vi. 2.

The Book of Revelation is full of word-pictures of the wonderful things which its writer saw in vision. And it is natural that great artists should try to turn some of these word-pictures into real pictures for the eye. Mr. Watts has done this for the first part of the sixth chapter, which tells us about the four different horses, white, red, black, and pale, and about their four riders. He has made these horses and riders the subjects of four different paintings, and it is the first of them--the Rider on the White Horse--which is before us now.

As we look at the picture we are helped to imagine what the vision was like, and helped perhaps also to understand the truth it was meant to teach.

The Horse and the Rider are, of course, the princ.i.p.al figures. The Horse is a splendid milk-white charger. Its breast is broad and powerful. Its neck is arched proudly. It has a small but graceful head, beautiful eyes, widely opened nostrils, and a mouth that seems to be impatiently champing the bit. The front portion of its mane is parted on its brow and streams back round the ears on either side. The rest of the mane is erect on its neck. The Rider is a towering and terrible figure. He wears a loose flowing cloak which swells around and behind him in the wind. His left arm, strong and bare, is firmly stretched out, and his left hand holds a thick bow in its iron grasp.

His right arm is out of sight, and only the right hand is seen, drawing back the bowstring to his breast. At his left side there hangs a quiver, full of arrows with feathered shafts. On his head he wears a stately winged helmet, and above it a crown. His face wears a look of commanding strength, and in the eyes beneath the shadow of the helmet there is an awful gleam of fixed and pitiless resolve.

These two princ.i.p.al figures are closely surrounded by others. Three of these on the left of the Horse first attract our attention. The foremost, a dusky form, with head bent forward, and breast and shoulders bare, leads the Horse with his right hand by the bridle rein.

Behind him, the fair face of a woman appears, framed in the folds of the mantle that is gathered closely around her neck; and behind this still another face is seen in the background. These three are all marching alongside of the Horse and his Rider. Just in front of the figure who leads the Horse there is a figure lying backwards with closed eyes, as if in death; and on the further side of the Horse two other lifeless faces come into view. In the lower left hand corner of the picture, just in front of the Horse we see the bowed head and stooping shoulders of one more dark form. All these figures, the dead as well as the living, have bright stars on their foreheads, though the star on the brow of the one furthest back is partly hidden by the bow.

The Rider and his companions move forward under a gloomy sky, with angry streaks of light showing here and there between the clouds. A wind seems to be blowing in their faces. And high up behind them great eagles, with spreading wings, are hovering in the air.

Now, what shall we say is the meaning of the Bible vision which this picture brings afresh before our eyes? The four Horses with their Riders represent four kinds of judgment which G.o.d sends at times upon the world. They are Conquest, Slaughter, Famine, and Death. The Rider on the White Horse stands for the first of these. The picture shows us the way in which strong nations and their rulers subdue the world, and build up great Empires by force. The Rider's stately figure, and resolute face, and stern, unpitying eyes remind us of famous conquerors like Alexander the Great and Napoleon. The bow and quiver make it clear that it is by the weapons of war that their successes have been won. The proud war-horse, forcing its way among the thronging forms around it, suggests the resistless power with which Conquest goes on its triumphant way. The crown on the Rider's head is an emblem of the glory and dominion which conquerors win. In the other figures with the starry brows we may see the different nations, or the kings and queens, who have been touched and influenced by the spirit of War for Empire's sake. The leader of the Horse, and the other two forms behind him, may represent nations that are marching along on the path of Conquest. The prostrate, lifeless figures may be nations that have perished in the strife. And the bowed head in front of the Horse's breast may stand for one of the nations that are subdued, and brought under the power of those that are stronger than themselves. The dark, angry sky makes us feel that the Conqueror's progress is full of dread; and the eagles give us a hint of the horrors that he leaves behind him, of the dead bodies that lie in the track of the White Horse and his terrible Rider, of the other three Riders, more terrible still, who follow in his train.

As we look at this picture we learn that War and Conquest have two sides. At first sight we are attracted by the power and majesty of the Horse and his Rider, and we cannot help admiring them. There is something grand and n.o.ble in the might of a great nation, in the strong will and fearless courage of a great conqueror. We are stirred and thrilled when we see the march of great armies, and hear the tidings of great victories. There is a feeling of pride in belonging to a great Empire which has proved itself able to subdue the world. It seems a glorious thing to lead, or even to take part, in such a conquest. But the more closely we look at the picture, the more we feel that it is not altogether a pleasant and satisfying sight. The kind of conquest which the Rider on the White Horse represents is, after all, not a blessing, but a judgment which G.o.d sends on the world. It is the victory of strength over weakness. If it brings glory to some nations, it brings destruction to others, and humiliation to others still. It means the loss of countless lives, and the wrecking of numberless homes. It is followed by unspeakable sufferings and bitter sorrows.

It knows nothing of pity or mercy. Its garlands of triumph are stained with blood and tears.

And so we gladly turn away from this picture to think of another Conqueror of whom the Bible tells us, and who is described in these words: _Behold, thy King cometh unto thee: He is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an a.s.s.... And the battle-bow shall be cut off: and He shall speak peace unto the nations: and His dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth_.[1] This conquering King is the Lord Jesus Christ. He took these words of the prophet to Himself when He rode into Jerusalem to die. His conquest is of a far n.o.bler kind than that of war and force.

It is the victory of right over wrong. Its motive is not ambition, but love. He is not stern and pitiless, but tender and gracious. He rides in majesty _because of truth, and meekness, and righteousness_.[2] He is the Prince of Peace. His triumphs bring no sorrow or hurt or death in their train. He blesses those whom He overcomes. His Empire is the only one that we can be truly proud to belong to, the only one that will conquer the whole world and last for ever.

Jesus shall reign where'er the sun Does his successive journeys run; His kingdom stretch from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e, Till moons shall wax and wane no more.

Blessings abound where'er He reigns: The prisoner leaps to lose his chains; The weary find eternal rest; And all the sons of want are blest.

[1] Zech. ix. 9, 10.

[2] Ps. xlv. 4.

THE MAN WITH THE MUCK-RAKE

BY THE LATE SIR J. NOeL PATON, R.S.A.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MAN WITH THE MUCK-RAKE. By permission of Mr. Haydon Hare.]

THE MAN WITH THE MUCK-RAKE

_Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth_.--COL.