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Icones Symbolicae: The Visual Image in Neo-Platonic Thought

Author(s): E. H. GombrichSource: Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, Vol. 11 (1948), pp. 163-192Published by: The Warburg InstituteStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/750466 .

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ICONES

S

YMBOLICAE

The

Visual

Image

in

Neo-Platonic

Thought

by

E.

H.

Gombrich

riting

on

allegorical

painting

in

I748,

Abbe

Pluche made a remark

which

many

students

of this

branch of

art

may

have felt

prompted

to

endorse:

"Puisqu'un

tableau

n'est

destine

qu'a

me montrer ce

qu'on

ne me

dit

pas,

il

est ridicule

qu'il

faille

des efforts

pour

l'entendre

.

. .

Et

pour

l'ordinaire,

quand je

suis

parvenu

'

deviner

l'intention de ces

personnages

mysterieux,

je

trouve

que

ce

qu'on

m'apprend

ne valait

guere

les frais

de

l'enveloppe."1

The learned Abbe was here

pleading

for

clarity

in

the

devising

of

allegories

in

accordance

with

eighteenth-century

taste. He wanted

to

confine

allegories

to

images

which could be

readily

understood.

Nineteenth-

century

critics went further.

They rejected

this

type

of

subject

matter

alto-

gether as incompatible with the true function of art. Both periods had this

in

common,

that

they

regarded allegory

as

a

kind

of

picture writing

in

which

a

conceptual

language

is

translated

into

conventional

images.2

It is a

striking

fact that

Abbe

Pluche's

line of criticism

was

not

developed

until the dawn

of the

Age

of

Reason.

The

preceding

centuries were

not

worried

by

the

apparent paradox

of

an art

invented

to

convey

a

message

in

symbols

which

seemed

to

become

more obscure

the triter the

meaning

they

were

supposed

both

to hide and

to

reveal.3

To

them these

"mysterious

personages"

meant

obviously

more

than

mere

"wrappings"

of verbal state-

ments.

It is

the

purpose

of this article

to

define

more

clearly

what

this

"more"

can have been-in what respect the visual image may have held a special

place

in the

minds of men.

We

need

not

rely

on

speculations

in

our

quest.

The claims

for

the

special position

of the

visual

symbol

were

firmly

rooted

in

a

philosophical

tradition of

long standing.

A

text

of

the

seventeenth

century

This

article

is

based on

a lecture

on

"Neo-Platonism

and

the

Arts"

given

at

the

Taylor

Institution, Oxford,

in

February

1948.

1

Histoire du

Ciel, II,

p. 427,

quoted

by

Jean

Seznec,

La survivancedes dieux

antiques. (Studies

of the

Warburg

Institute,

i

i),

London,

I940,

p.

239.

The line of this attack had been

developed

in

J.

B. Du

Bos'

Reflexions Critiques

sur

la

Podsie et sur la

Peinture,

Paris,

I719,

Part

I,

Sect.

24.

2This is

the idea

underlying

the definitions

of

allegorical

imagery

in

most

I8th

and

I9th

century writings,

e.g.

K.

H.

Heydenreich,

Aesthetisches Worterbuch

iber

die bildenden

Kiinste,

Leipzig,

1793:

"Die

Allegorie...

ist ein...

Mittel,

welches der

Knfistler

anwendet,

um

durch

HUIlfe

symbolischer Figuren,

.

.

. und

durch

andere

Dinge,

wegen

welchen

man

sich

i

bereingekommen ist, geistige

Gedanken

und

abstrakte Ideen mitzuteilen."

The

latest and

greatest

exponent

of

Abbe

Pluche's

view

is

Benedetto Croce who

has banished

allegory

from

the

"aesthetic

sphere"

because

he,

too,

sees

in

it

a

purely

conventional

and

arbitrary

"mode

of

writing"

which

belongs,

at

best,

to

the

"practical sphere."

In his

review of Seznec's book

(op.

cit.)

in La Parola

del

Passato,

I,

3,

1946,

Croce even dismisses

iconographic

research because

the

solution

of

these

"mysteries" usually

proves

to

be

"with-

out

importance."

While his

warning

against

a

"detective"

approach

to the

past

which

tries to

reveal

"an

invisible

history

behind the

visible one"

is

certainly

justified,

the

present

argument

may

help

to show that

his

division

into

"spheres"

can

hardly

do

justice

to

the

complex problem

of

symbolic

imagery.

3

Cf.

Seznec,

loc.

cit.,

p.

94.

x63

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164

E. H. GOMBRICH

which

may

be

regarded

as

a

culmination

and

summary

of this tradition will

serve

as

our

starting-point

and

our

conclusion.' Its

author,

Christoforo

Giarda,

has

no

great

claims to

literary

distinction. He was

a

teacher

of

rhetoric at

a Barnabite

college

in

Milan

on whom

devolved

the

task

of

entertaining

the

members of a Congregation of his Order with one of those show pieces of his

art which

we

find

so difficult

to

appreciate.

Giarda chose as the

text

of his

speech

or

sermon the

figures

of

sixteen

"Disciplines"

or

Liberal Arts which

adorned

the

reading

room of the

newly

erected

College

Library

(P1.

32)

where-as we

may

presume-he

had

to

give

a

sample

of his skill.

Before

explaining

the emblems and

features

of each

one of them

in

learned

disserta-

tions Giarda delivered

a

eulogy

of the

art

of

devising symbolic

images.

Despite

its

baroque

bombast this

eulogy

proves

to be

a

coherent and

explicit exposi-

tion of

a

doctrine

which is latent and

implicit

in

the whole

conception

of

allegorical

imagery.

Its

very

first sentence introduces us into

an

atmosphere

very

different from that of

Abbe

Pluche's

rationalist criticism. For to

Giarda,

in 1626, the allegorical images are not just translations of words into images,

a

kind

of

picture

writing

to

tease and

exasperate

the

impatient.

We

owe

it

to

them-so he claims-"that

the mind

which

has

been banished from heaven

into

this dark cave of the

body,

its actions held

in

bondage

by

the

senses,

can

behold

the

beauty

and

form of the

Virtues

and

Sciences,

divorced from

all

matter

and

yet

adumbrated

if

not

perfectly expressed,

in

colours,

and is thus

roused

to an

even

more

fervent love and desire for them."

If

these words

mean

anything

they

mean

that

we misunderstand these

images

if

we

think

of them

only

as conventional

signs

for abstract

concepts.

The

figure

of Rhetoric or

History

on

the bookshelf

in

the

College Library

is

not

just

a

substitute

for a

label-it

is

a

representation

of

the idea

of

Rhetoric

or

History

as it dwells in the

intelligible

world.

It

will

be our task both to

justify

and to refine this first formulation. For

this

it

may

be better

to

leave aside

the

turgid

rhetoric of the

seventeenth

century

cleric

and to

analyse

the elements out of which he

composed

his

praise

of the

Icones

Symbolicae.

We have

to

undertake

a

lengthy

journey

along

the

devious

paths

of Neo-Platonic

speculations

and

traditions before we can

read Giarda's

speech

in

its

right setting.

It

will

turn out that

we

must,

above

all,

revise

the

assumptions

about the functions

of the

image

which we

usually

take for

granted,

before

we can

hope

to formulate the

Neo-Platonic doctrine

in

our own

language.

We are used to making a clear distinction between two functions of the

visual

image-that

of

representation

and that

of

symbolization.2

A

painting

may represent

n

object

of the

visible

world,

a

woman

holding

a

balance,

or

a

lion.

It

may

also

symbolize

n

idea.

To

those conversant with the conventional

meanings

attached

to

these

images

the woman with the balance will

symbolize

Justice,

the

lion

Courage,

or the British

Empire,

or

any

other

concept

conven-

tionally

linked

in

our

symbolic

lore with the

King

of Animals.

On

reflection

1

For

the

text

of this

introduction

and

a

note

on its author see

Appendix p.

i88

ff.

2

Cf.

E.

Panofsky,

Studies in

Iconology,

New

York,

1939,

p.

3

if.

In the

terminology

of Charles Morris, Signs, Language and Be-

havior,

New

York,

I946,

we would have to

distinguish

between

images

as

"iconic

signs"

and as

"post language

symbols";

I

hope

to discuss

the

more

technical

aspects

of this

terminology elsewhere.







32

.

Tf

i

A

S C

a-Theology

(p.

192)

1 <

-:-i

i

-

i i-

:

iii

-

:iiiiiiiiii-ii•iiiii~iiiiiiiiii•L

b-Rhetoric

(p. 192)

HIST RIA

c-History (p.

192)

MATHEM AT 1 A

d-Mathematics

(p.

192)

Engravings

from C.

Giarda,

Icones

Symbolicae,

Milan,

1626

(p. 164)







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

165

we

may

be

prepared

to

grant

the

possibility

of another

kind of

symbolism,

not conventional

but

private,

through

which

an

image

can

become the

expression

of the

artist's conscious

or

unconscious

mind. To van

Gogh

the

orchard

in

bloom

may

have been

a

symbol

of his

returning

health.'

These

three ordinary functions of images may be present in one concrete image-a

motif

in

a

painting

by

Hieronymus

Bosch

may represent

broken

vessel,

symbolize

he

sin

of

gluttony

and

express

n

unconscious

sexual

fantasy

on the

part

of

the

artist,

but

to us the

three levels

of

meaning

remain

quite

distinct.

As

soon,

however,

as

we leave

the

ground

of rational

analysis

we find that

these neat distinctions no

longer

hold. We know

that

in

magical practice

the

image

not

only

represents

an

enemy

but

may

take his

place

(the very

word

re-present

still has

this

dual

meaning).

We know that

the "fetish" not

only

"symbolizes"

fertility

but

"has" it. In

short,

our

attitude towards

the

image

is

inextricably

bound

up

with our whole

conception

of

the

universe.

Any

student

of the

religious

function of

images

knows

how

complex

this

attitude

may be: "Between the belief of the peasant, who took the animation of the

idol

in

its

most

gross

realistic

sense,

and the belief of the

educated

man,

who

regarded

the

ceremonies

of

worship

as

only

expressing

in a

symbolic

way

that

there was some unseen

power

somewhere,

who

liked to receive the

homage

of

men,

there

may

have

been

any

number

of intermediate shades

.

. . we

realize more

to-day

than was realized before

how the mind of man is

on

various

levels,

and

how,

beneath

an

articulate

intellectual

theory,

a

belief

inconsistent with

that

theory, closely

connected

with unavowed

feelings

and

desires

may

still

subsist."'2

These words

by Edwyn

Bevan on

the attitude of

Horace and his time to the

question

of "idols"

apply

to the

whole field

of

our

investigation.

For

where

there

is

no clear

gulf separating

the

material,

visible

world from the sphere of the spirit and of

spirits,

not only the various meanings

of

the

word

representation

may

become blurred

but

the whole

relationship

between

image

and

symbol

assumes a different

aspect.

To

primitive

mentality

the whole

distinction between

representation

and

symbol

is

no

doubt

a

very

difficult one.

Warburg

described

as

Denkraumverlusthis

tendency

of the

human mind to

confuse

the

sign

with the

thing

signified,

the name and its

bearer,

the literal

and the

metaphorical,

the

image

and

its

prototype.3

The

structure of the

Indo-Germanic

languages

favoured this natural bent

towards

"hypostasis"

of

concepts.4

The

very

question

whether Fortuna

is

a

"symbol"

of

the

vicissitudes of

life

or a

capricious

demon

intervening

in

our

fate,

whether

Death

with the

scythe is

an

abstraction or capable of knocking at the door,

does

not

allow

of

a

clear-cut

answer.

On this level it

may

be true

to

say

that

the

naive

painter

who had

to

represent "Justice" began

by

trying

to find out

what

Justice

"looked like."

After

all,

allegorical

painting

grew

out

of

the

religious

imagery

of classical

antiquity

and here

the

borderline

between

mythical

beings

which can be

represented

and

abstractions

which can

be

symbolized

is

particularly

hard

to

define.

Gods fade

imperceptibly

into mere

1

Carl

Nordenfalk,

"Van

Gogh

and

Litera-

ture,"

Journal

of

the

Warburg

and

Courtauld

Institutes, X,

I947,

p.

132

f.

2

Edwyn

Bevan,

Holy

Images,

An

Inquiry

into

Idolatry and Image-Worship in Ancient Paganism

and

Christianity,

London,

I940,

p.

31.

3

A.

Warburg,

Gesammelte

Schriften,

Berlin,

I932,

p.

49I.

4

Cf.

Roscher's

Mythologisches

Lexikon,

s.v.

Personification(by L. Deubner).







166

E. H.

GOMBRICH

personifications

of

concepts

and

abstract ideas

suddenly

take on

a

vitality

as of

daemonic

powers.I

Philosophical speculations

increased

rather than

obviated

the

ambiguities

involved. The

writings

of

the

Neo-Platonists,

of Philo and

the

Gnostics

provide

the most frequent examples of this systematic ambiguity. "The idea of

Wisdom,

Sophia,

becomes

in

the Gnosis a female

spirit capable

of

being

seen in

a

vision."

In

fact the

whole

conception

of

the

hierarchy

of

beings

which,

in

these

pictures

of the

universe,

links

the

idea

of

the

Godhead

with

the sensible

world

in

an

unbroken chain of

gradations,

could

readily

absorb

the

Platonic

Ideas and allot them a

place

in

the

supra-celestial spheres.

Thanks

to these

interpretations

the

"personifications"

of

the

pagan

world were

given

a

sanctuary by

the Church.

Lactantius,

in his

polemics

against

pagan

worship,

had

still mocked at the

cult

of

such

beings

as

Spes,

Fides,

Pax,

Pudicitia,

and

Pietas "which

have no substance outside

the human mind"

even

though

he

would rather

worship

those than such

monstrosities as

Febris or

Rubigo.3

S. Gregory, under the influence of the Neo-Platonic writings ascribed to

Dionysius

Areopagita,

already

tentatively

identified

the Virtues

with certain

categories

of the Second

Hierarchy

of

Angels.4

If

Angels

could

be

represented,

so could

the

Virtues.

In

fact Lomazzo

in his

handbook

for

painters

makes no

difference between these two entities.5

The

questions relating

to the

allegorical

image

and

its

function

thus

merged

with the

general

issue of the

legitimate

use

of the visual

symbol

in

relation

to

the

doctrine

of

the Church. But the

conclusions

drawn

from this

conception

of a

hierarchy

of

beings

differed

widely

from each other.

It

is well known

how

anxious

the Latin

Church was

to avoid

a confusion between

representa-

tion

and

symbol.

Western

theologians

never tired

of

insisting

that

religious

images

were in no

way

representations

but

symbols,

pictures

to teach the

illiterate,

equal

in

status to the

letters of the

written word.

It

is hard

to

say

how far

these

efforts

were

successful.

The

laity may

still

have

regarded

a

painting

of God the Father as

a

portrait

of

Divinity

rather than

as

a mere

sign symbolizing

His

wisdom under

the

image

of

an

old

man.

Yet the

fact

that

the

doctrinal

point

of view was

always

potentially

present

prevented

the

religious image

in the

West from

being

turned

into an

icon.6

1

H. R.

Patch,

The Goddess Fortuna in

Mediaeval

Literature,

Cambridge,

Mass.,

1927,

p.

178

f.,

and

R.

Hinks,

Myth

and

Allegory

in

Ancient Art (Studies of the Warburg Institute,

6)

London,

1939-

I

have examined this

aspect

of

personification

as a

psychological

regres-

sion in

"Cartoons and

Progress,"

The Public's

Progress,

a

Contact

Book,

1947.

2Hans

Leisegang,

Die

Gnosis,

Leipzig,

I924,

p.

I3.

3

Epitome

Divinarum

Institutionum,

Migne,

PL

VI,

col.

1028.

4Migne,

PL

LXXVI,

col.

1251.

In

Gregory

the name

may only signify "power",

but

in

popular

literature

the

identity

of

names seems

to

have

led

to

an

identity

of

concepts. Cf. C. S. Lewis, The Allegory of

Love,

Oxford,

1936,

p.

86:

"The

seven

(or

eight)

Deadly

Sins,

imagined

as

persons,

become

so familiar

that at last the believer

seems to have lost all power of distinguishing

between

his

allegory

and his

pneumatology.

The Virtues

and Vices become

as

real

as

the

Angels

and

the Fiends."

5

P.

Lomazzo,

Trattato dell'arte

della

Pittura,

etc., Rome,

I844,

libro

VII,

cap.

III.

6

Cf.

Bevan,

op.

cit.,

pp.

I26

and

I69

ff.

For

the Renaissance

artist's attitude

cf.

Giulio Romano's

letter

on his fresco

in

Parma:

".

.

.

Also

I

have heard

that

I

am

blamed for

having

painted

God the

Father

Who

is

invisible;

I

answer

that

outside

of

Christ

and the

Madonna who

are

in

heaven

with glorious bodies, all the rest of the saints







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

167

Side

by

side with

this rational

idea

of visual

symbolism,

however,

there

existed

another

interpretation

of

the

same doctrine of the

hierarchy

of

beings

in

which

a

more

vital role

is

accorded to

symbolism.

The

writings

of

"Diony-

sius

Areopagita"

on the celestial

hierarchy

open,

in

fact,

with

a

disquisition

on the function of symbolism which remained influential throughout the

Church.

The

Saint

defends

the Sacred

Scriptures

against

the

accusation

of

having

used a

gross

and

inappropriate

symbolism

for the revelation

of

spiritual

truth.

There

are two

ways

of

approaching

the Divine:

through

affirmation

(xa(Yqq)

and

negation (4Mraqp).1

Revelation

makes

use

of both

ways.

It

represents spiritual

entities

by way

of

analogy

through

such

dignified

concepts

as

Logos

or

Nous

and the

image

of

Light.

But

there

is

a

danger

in

this kind

of

symbolic

language.

It

may

lead

to

the

very

confusion the

religious

mind

must avoid.

The reader

of the

Scriptures

might

take

them

literally

and

think

that the

heavenly

beings

are

really "golden

men,

radiant

figures

of transcend-

ent

beauty,

clad

in

shining

robes .

. .

or

similar

figures

through

which the

Revelation has given a sensible representation of the heavenly spirits."'2 It is

to avoid

this confusion that

the

holy

authors of

the revealed

writings

have

deliberately

used

inappropriate

symbols

and similes

so

that

we

should

not

cling

to

the

undignified

literal

meaning.

The

very

monstrosities

of

which

they

talk,

such as lions

and

horses

in

the

heavenly

regions, prevent

us

from

accepting

these

images

as real and stimulate our

mind to

seek a

higher

significance.

Thus the

apparent

inappropriateness

of the

symbols

found

in

the

Holy

Writ

is

in

effect a

means

through

which

our soul

is led on

towards

spiritual

truth. To

the

profane

these

enigmatic

images

conceal

the

holy

arcanum

of the

supernatural;

to

the

initiate,

however,

they

serve

as

the

first

rung

of

the ladder

by

which we

ascend

to

the

Divine.

In itself there is no contradiction between this doctrine of the

symbol

and

the

teaching

of

the

role of the

image

as a

letter for the

illiterate.

But

the

emphasis

is different.

In

the

one the

image

is the

means

of

teaching

the

doctrine-a mere substitute for the

spoken

word.

In

the

other

it is a

starting-

point

for

contemplation.

The

virtue of

the one

is

to

be

clear,

the virtue of the

other to be

mysterious.

Moreover

Dionysius

does

not talk

about

images

devised

by

man. He

defends

the

symbolism

he

finds inherent

in

Revelation

itself. To such a

conception

the

very

idea of a "conventional"

symbolism

is

alien. God

has

revealed

the truth

about

the

supernatural

world

in

the

strange

images

taken from the

sensible world-and

the

contemplation

of the low will

teach us to ascend to the high.

It is this

conception

of

revelation

through symbolism

which

gains

new

importance

in

the Renaissance with

the revival

of Neo-Platonism. It finds

perhaps

its clearest and

most

coherent

expression

in

the

writings

of Pico

della

Mirandola. The universe to Pico is

one vast

symphony

of

correspondences

in

which

each level of existence

points

to

another level.

It is

by

virtue of

this

and

souls

and

angels

are

invisible,

and

yet

it

is

the

custom to

paint

them,

and

to

your

lordships

it

should not

be new

that

pictures

are the

scriptures

of the crowd

and

the

ignorant

. . ."

Cf.

F.

Hartt,

"Raphael

and

Giulio

Romano,"

The

Art

Bulletin,

1944,

p. 91.

1

For

the

Neo-Platonic

origin

of these dis-

tinctions

cf.

Hugo

Koch,

Pseudodionysius

Areo-

pagita

in

seinen

Beziehungen

zum

Neuplatonismus

und

Mysterienwesen,

Mainz,

I900,

p.

208 ff.

2

Oeuvres

Completes

du

Pseudo

Denys

L'Areo-

pagite,

traduction,

preface

et notes

par

Maurice de Gandillac, Paris,

I943,

p.

191.







168 E.

H. GOMBRICH

interrelated

harmony

that one

object

can

signify

another and that

by

con-

templating

a

visible

thing

we can

gain insight

into the

invisible world.

In

his

commentary

on

the

opening

chapters

of the

Bible,

called

Heptaplus,

ico

applies

the

methods of

Dionysius'

exegesis

systematically

to

his doctrine

of three

worlds, the terrestrial, the celestial and the supra-celestial, all of which re-

flect

each

other and

all of which

are mirrored

in

the

"small world"

which

is

man.

Everything

which is in the

totality

of

worlds

is also

in

each of them

and none of them

contains

anything

which is

not

to

be found

in

each of

the others . . .

whatever

exists

in

the

inferior

world

will also

be found

in

the

superior

world,

but

in a

more

elevated

form;

and whatever exists

on

the

higher

plane

can

also

be seen down

below but

in a

somewhat

de-

generate

and,

so

to

say,

adulterated

shape

.

. .

In

our world

we have

fire

as an

element,

in

the

celestial world

the

corresponding

entity

is the

sun,

in the supra-celestial world the seraphic fire of the Intellect. But consider

their

difference:

The

elemental

fire

burns,

the celestial

fire

gives

life,

the

supra-celestial

loves.1

It

is

this idea

of a strict

hierarchy

of worlds

which

explains

the

Neo-

Platonic

conception

of

symbolism

as

a form

of

revelation.

To

quote

Pico

again

in

the same

context:

The

ancient fathers

could

not have

represented

one

image

by

another

had

they

not known the occult affinities

and harmonies of

the universe.

Otherwise there

would

not have

been

any

reason

whatever

why they

should have

represented

a

thing by

one

image

rather than by an opposite

one.2

The

consequences

of this

doctrine

are

far-reaching.

For

to the Neo-

Platonic

philosophers

the

conception

of

an inherent

and essential

symbolism

pervading

the whole order

of

things

offered

a

key

to the

whole

universe.

If

only

they

could

unriddle

the

mysterious

imagery

used

by

the "ancient

fathers"

they

could unveil

the

secrets of

the

supra-sensible

world.

It is

here

that

the

doctrine of

symbolism

links

up

with

the doctrine

of esoteric tradition

which

plays

such

a

part

in

the

writings

of the Renaissance

Platonists.

This doctrine was not invented by the Neo-Platonists but

it was

made

by

them the

pivot

of their

exegetic

method. The basis

of this

method

may

be

described as a belief

in

a

multiple

revelation.

To

put

it

briefly,

it is the idea

that

God

reveals Himself

in

everything

if

only

we

learn to read

His

signs.

The

popular

form

of this doctrine

is familiar from the

Middle

Ages.

It

is the

idea

that

apart

from

the revelation as embodied

in the

words of

the

Scriptures

and

the

teachings

of

the Church the

whole of

nature

is,

as

it

were,

a

hieroglyph

of revealed

truth;

that

the

strange happenings

in

nature's

kingdom

yield

up

a kernel

of

divine

teaching.

The

pelican

pre-figures

Christ and His

Charity,

1

Giovanni

Pico

della

Mirandola,

Heptaplus,

ed. E. Garin, Florence, 1942, p. i188.

2

Pico,

ed.

cit.,

p.

192.







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

169

the

pearl

the

virgin

birth.

It

is

important

to realize the

potentialities

inherent

in

this

tradition.

A thinker of Aristotelian

schooling

might

interpret

it ration-

ally

by recommending

the

pelican

as a

suitable

metaphor

or

Christ.' But

the

Neo-Platonist could at

any

time revive the

mystical

conception

which

pre-

supposes the idea that God pre-figured and represented His Charity in the

habits

of

the

pelican.

What

goes

for

the

Book of

Nature

also

goes

for

the

mythological

lore

of

the

past.

The Middle

Ages

had inherited

the

view from late

antiquity

that,

rightly

understood,

the fables and

myths

of

the

poets

must

yield

up

the same

meaning

as

the

contemplation

of nature. It

was this

tradition

in

particular

which

the Florentine Neo-Platonists

seized

upon

and

which

they

carried to

its

logical

conclusion. To them

the

myths

were not

only

a

mine of

edifying

metaphors.

They

were

in

fact

yet

another form of

revelation.

In

accepting

this

belief

the Neo-Platonists had

no intention of

minimizing

the value of the

Bible

as the chief instrument of Divine

revelation.

On the

contrary. They

were convinced that the pagan lore rightly understood could only point to-

wards

the

same

truth which

God had

made manifest

through

the

Scriptures.

For God

had

not

only

spoken through

the

Prophets.

The first men

in

the

Golden

Age

had been

so close to the act

of

creation that

they

had

still

known

the

secrets of the

universe.2 But these

sages

of the

mythical

past-Pico's

"ancient

fathers"-had hidden the truth in

mysterious

tales and

images

to

prevent

it from

being

prematurely profaned. Something

of

this

belief

still

lingers

as an

undercurrent

of

European

thought.

We are

familiar with

the

doctrine

of an

esoteric tradition which

reaches

back to

the

mysterious

origins

of time and which is

both

revealed

and concealed

in

the

Wisdom of the East.

The

writings

of

Ficino

and

Pico

belong

to

this current of

thought.

Those

who

expect

to find there the serene world of classical

beauty

will soon be dis-

appointed.

We

are

constantly

referred

to the

mythical

sages

of

the

East,

to

the

Egyptian

Priests,

to Hermes

Trismegistos,

to

Zoroaster, and,

among

the

Greeks,

to

those

who

were

believed

to

have been

in

possession

of this secret

lore,

to

Orpheus,

to

Pythagoras

and,

last

but

not

least,

to

Plato,

whose use

of

myths

and

whose

reverence

for

Egypt

fitted

in

well

with

this

picture

of

an

unbroken chain of

esoteric

tradition.

Here,

at

last,

we

come

back to the

object

of

our

quest,

the visual

image.

For

it

is this

belief which

explains

the

passionate

interest

which the

Quattro-

cento

took

in

the

Egyptian

hieroglyphs.

These

strange

images

were

believed

to be in fact "sacred signs" in which the Egyptian priests had hidden their

1

For this

important

difference of

approach

cf.

C. S.

Lewis,

op.

cit.,

p.

45

ff.

2

I

know

no

systematic

study

of this im-

portant

doctrine of the

sapientia

veterum,

or

priscorum

theologia.

Its

basic

assumption

that

the

ancient

sages

were in

possession

of

Divine

Wisdom is

very

widespread

but the

explana-

tions offered

vary considerably.

While

some

trace

all

this

knowledge

back to

Moses,

others

believe

in a

revelation to the

pagan

world

through

the

sybils

and

philosophers.

Another

way

of

reconciling

the Biblical and

the

Hermetic

beliefs was

provided

in

the

story

of

Josephus (Jewish

Antiquities,

I,

70-72)

according

to

which

Seth had

preserved

Adam's

superior

knowledge

for

posterity

on

two

imperishable

columns

which survived

the flood.

This

version is used

by

Giarda.

Cf.

Seznec,

op.

cit.,

p..

9o;

Nesca N.

Robb,

Neoplatonism

of

the

Italian

Renaissance,

London,

1935,

p.

48;

G.

Anichini,

L'Umanesimo e

il

problema

della

salvezza

in

Marsilio

Ficino,

Milan,

I937,

p.

68

ff.,

where

some of

Ficino's sources

are

quoted.







170

E. H.

GOMBRICH

occult

knowledge.1

The aura of

mystery

which

surrounded

them can

be

gathered

from

their use

in

the Neo-Platonic

romance,

the

Hypnerotomachia

Poliphili,

in which the visual

symbols

from the

past

are

endowed with

pro-

found

significance.

The

images

on the

reverse of

coins,

too,

were

eagerly

questioned for their symbolic meaning. They were believed to be ciphers

in

which

the

sages

of the

past

had

laid

down their

knowledge

of the

mysteries.

For,

as

we know

from

Pico,

the "ancient

fathers"

had not chosen their

symbols

arbitrarily.

They

based

them on their

insight

into the

structure of the

universe.

In

choosing

the

symbol

of

fire for

celestial love

they

had chosen an

image

which

was,

in

the true

meaning

of

the

word,

not conventional

but

essential.

It

applies

the code

of

equivalence

which

pertains

between

sensible and

supra-

sensible

entities.

If we

contemplate

fire we

may

therefore learn

something

about

the true

nature of

Divine

Love,

and

if

we

try

to read the ancient hiero-

glyphs

we

may

find out

more

about the

correspondences

which enable

us

to

penetrate

into the

arcanum

of the Divine.

This conception of visual symbolism as a key to the essential nature of the

entities

symbolized

accords

well with

the

conception

of

language expounded

and

applied

by

the Neo-Platonic

philosophers.

The

names

of

the

Gods,

for

instance,

were

not

thought

of as conventional counters.

They

belong

to

them

"by

nature",

and those who

first used them still knew

their "true"

meaning.

Correctly

analysed

they

too must reveal

something

of the essence of the

divinity

they

signify.2

Hence

the interest the Neo-Platonists took

in

the

fanciful

etymologies

of late

antiquity

and even

in the

cabbalistic

speculations

on

the

letters which

composed

a

word.

But

there

is

one

respect

in

which

the visual

symbol,

the

hieroglyph,

is

superior

to

the

name,

the

image

superior

to the sound.

To understand this

important

argument

we must take into account the Neo-Platonic

theory

of

the threefold

nature

of

knowledge.

At the

lowest

end is

knowledge

derived

from

sense

perception.

This

is fallible and deserves

only

the

name of

"opinion."

The artist as

a maker of

such

visual

images

leads

away

from truth

and

feeds

on delusion.

The

higher

form

of

knowledge

is that derived

from

reasoning

which

proceeds

step

by

step

in

the

dialectical

process.

As

long

as

the soul

is

imprisoned

in the

body

we

are

really

thrown

back on these

two

imperfect

guides,

the

senses

and

reason,

and our

understanding

remains dim

and obscure.

True

knowledge

only

results

from

the third and

highest

process,

that

of

intellectual

intuition

of ideas or

essences. Such

knowledge

we

had,

according to Plato, before

we

were born-the

Neo-Platonists

were

in

danger

here of

coming

into

conflict

with

the

teachings

of

the Church-and such

knowledge

we shall

surely

gain

once

we cast off this dead

weight

of

a

body

and

find ourselves

face

to face

with the

Divine

in whose mind

the ideas

dwell.

In our

lives-and

this is

the

aspect

which

Neo-Platonism

elaborates-we can

1

Karl

Giehlow,

"Die

Hieroglyphenkunde

des

Humanismus,"

Jahrbuch

der kunsthistor-

ischen

Sammlungen

des

allerh6chsten

Kaiserhauses,

XXXII,

I9I5.

2

Marsilio

Ficino,

Opera

Omnia,

Basle,

1576,

pp.

1217

f. and

I902.

The

latter

passage

comments on the interesting exposition of

this

doctrine

in

lamblichus'

Egyptian

Mysteries

(transl.

A.

Wilder,

New

York,

1911, p. 245

f.).

For Pico's

attitude

to names

and his

occa-

sional

acceptance

of

conventionalism

see

A.

Levy,

Die

Philosophie

Giovanni

Pico's della

Mirandola, Berlin,

1908,

p.

19-







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

1

71

only

hope

to achieve

this true

knowledge

in

the rare moments when

the soul

leaves

the

body

in

a

state of

ek-stasis,

such as

may

be

granted

us

through

divine

frenzy.

Hence

the

importance

which

men

like Ficino

attached to the

working

of the

furor

in

love,

in

poetry

and

in

prophecy,

and hence

the

efforts of Renaissance artists to arrogate to themselves the same state of

"inspiration"

which

antiquity

had

granted

to the

poet

but

had denied

to

the

"menial" craftsmen.'

In

these moments of

rapture

the

genius

is

granted

a

glimpse

of the Platonic Idea.

He

shares

in

the

experience granted

to the

higher

intellects such as

angels

and

spirits,

who

always

contemplate

the

Ideas

and therefore

know truth

directly,

without the crutches of

discursive

reason-

ing.

What to us

is

only

understandable

analytically

is

revealed to

them,

as

it

were,

in a

flash,

as a

whole. No wonder

that

Ficino

revered St.

Paul,

whose

vision

on the

way

to Damascus

he

identified with the

Neo-Platonic

ecstasy2

and

who had summed

up

this whole trend of

thought

in

the

wonderful

words

of

the

Epistle

to

the

Corinthians:

"For

now

we

see

through

a

glass,

darkly,

but then face to face; now I know in part; but then I shall know even as also

I

am known."

The idea

of intuition as the

highest

form of

knowledge

could

easily

merge

with the doctrine

of revelation

through

visual

symbols.

The

way

in

which

the "ancient fathers"

expressed

themselves,

through image-symbols, may

not

have been accessible

to

profane

reason but it was nearer to

the world

of

ideas.

For

in

the visual

symbol

we also

contemplate

the whole

of

a

proposition

in

a

flash.3

This

process,

therefore,

pre-figures

and

mirrors

the

process

of

intel-

lectual intuition.

The

sacred

symbols

of the

esoteric tradition

which

embody

1

For a

concise

exposition

of

these doctrines

see Ficino, ed. cit., pp. 612 and 626 f.; for the

general

context,

P.

O.

Kristeller,

The

Philo-

sophy

of

Marsilio

Ficino,

New

York,

1943.

The

influence of

these

doctrines

on

the

theory

of

art

is

treated

in

E.

Panofsky,

'Idea'

(Studien

der Bibliothek

Warburg, V),

Berlin,

I924,

and

R. W.

Lee,

"Ut

pictura

Poesis,"

The Art

Bulletin, XXII,

1940,

p.

197

f.

A

telling

docu-

ment

for this

adaptation

of

the

theory

of

the

poetic

furor

to the

painter's

art is Annibale

Caro's

letter

to

Giorgio

Vasari

of

I548

in

which the

famous letterato

administers

a

gentle

rebuke

to the

painter

for his

notorious sloven-

liness and yet acknowledges his right as a

genius

to do

as

he

pleases.

The contrast

between

such

a

commission

and the

typical

quattrocento

contract

gives

a

measure

of

the

influence

the

Platonic

theory

had

on the

status of

the artist:

"I1

mio

desiderio d'havere

un'opera

notabile

di

vostra mano e

cosi

per

vostra laude come

per

mio

contento,

perche

vorrei

poterla

mettere innanzi

a

certi,

che vi

conoscono

piii per

ispiditivo

nella

pittura

che

per

eccellente

. .

.

Del

presto

et de

l'adagio

mi

remetto

a

voi,

perche giudico,

che si

possa

fare anco

presto

et

bene,

dove

corre

il

furore,

come nella pittura; la quale in questa parte

come in

tutte l'altre

e

similissima a la

poesia.

E ben vero, che '1 mondo crede, che facendo

voi

manco

presto,

fareste

meglio;

ma

questo

e

piu probabile

che necessario:

Che si

potrebbe

ancor

dire,

che

l'opere

stentate,

non

risolute

e

non tirate con

quel

fervore che si

cominciano,

riescono

peggiori

. .

.

ancora de

l'inventione

vi

rimetto

a

voi,

ricordandomi

d'un'

altra

somiglianza,

che la

poesia

h?"

con

la

pittura,

et di

piii

che voi

siete cosi

poeta

come

pittore,

et che ne

l'una

e ne

l'altra con

pi

affetione et con

pid

studio

s'esprimono

i

concetti et le idee sue

proprie

che

d'altrui."

The whole

letter deserves

study

as

a

charac-

teristic document of the "mannerist" attitude

towards

art. Cf.

Karl

Frey,

Der

Literarische

Nachlass

Giorgio

Vasaris,

Munich,

1923,

I,

p.

220.

2

Ficino,

ed.

cit.,

p. 436

ff.

and

p. 697

f

3

These

claims

for

the

image

rest on

an

important psychological

fact. Discursive

speech

is a

relatively

poor

instrument for

representing complex relationships. Degrees

of

kinship

which could

hardly

be

explained

in

words can be

read

off a

family

tree "at

a

glance."

This

superiority

of the

diagram

(or

graph)

over

a

descriptive explanation

has of

course nothing to do with the mutual claims







172

E.

H.

GOMBRICH

the true nature and

essence of

concepts

contain

wisdom,

as it

were,

in

highly

concentrated form. If

we

only

apply

our

minds to them

we

arrive

at an

insight

which is at least

parallel

to

the

direct

intuition of

ideas or

essences,

a more

immediate

path

to

the

knowledge

of

ultimate truth

than

discursive

reasoning could ever be.

It was

Ficino

himself

who

applied

this doctrine of

the virtue

of

visual

symbols

to

the

Egyptian

hieroglyphs.

The

Egyptian

Priests

did

not

use

individual letters

to

signify mysteries

but whole

images

of

plants,

trees or

animals;

because God has

knowledge

of

things

not

through

a

multiplicity

of

thought

processes

but rather

as a

simple

and

firm

form of the

thing.

He

chose

as

example

the

age-old

symbol

of Time as a

winged

serpent

biting

its tail.

Those

who

contemplate

this

image

learn

everything

about

the

sacred

mystery of Time, for "the Egyptians presented the whole of the discursive

argument

as

it were

in

one

complete image."1

Here we

are

clearly

far

away

from the

rational

doctrine

outlined

above,

that an

image

of this kind

represented

winged serpent

but

symbolized

ime.

For

Ficino's

argument presupposes

that there is

nothing

conventional

in

this

symbolic

significance.

That,

in

fact,

we can

learn

everything

about Time

by

looking

at its

symbolic

representation.

Should we

then

say

that

the

image

"represents"

Time?

In a

sense

it

does. But

only

in

an

esoteric sense. For

Time

is

not

part

of

the sensible

world.

It

can never

appear

to our

bodily eyes.

Yet

it is

not a

mere "abstraction" either. The idea of Time is

thought

of

as some-

thing

existing

by

itself

in

a

higher sphere-a sphere

accessible

to

intellectual

intuition. The

image-symbol,

then, is a

representation

of the

unrepresentable,

both

demanding

contemplation

and

spurring

us on to transcend it.

This

doctrine

of the function of

visual

symbols may hardly

be

capable

of

completely

rational

exposition,

because

it is

by

the nature of the

argument

an

irrational doctrine. Yes

it

is clear that

in

and

through

it

the distinction

between

the

representational

and

the

symbolizing

function of the

image

of

poetry

and

painting

as arts. In the Renais-

sance,

however,

the two

questions

seem to

merge.

The fact that vision allows

us

to see

"all

at once" what the word

can

only impart

successively was adduced by Leonardo in the

"Paragone"

to

exalt

painting

over

poetry;

cf.

Lee,

op.

cit.,

p. 251.

1

"Sacerdotes

Aegyptii

ad

significanda

divina

mysteria,

non utebantur

minutiis

literarum

characteribus,

sed

figuris

integris

herbarum,

arborum animalium

quoniam

videlicet Deus scientiam rerum habet non

tamquam

excogitationem

de re

multiplicem,

sed

tamquam simplicem firmamque

rei for-

mam.

Excogitatio temporis apud

te

multiplex

est

et

mobilis,

dicens videlicet

tempus

quidem

est

velox,

et

revolutione

quadam

principium

rursus cum fine coniungit: prudentiam docet,

profert

res,

et aufert. Totam vero

discur-

sionem eiusmodi

una

quadam firmaque

figura

comprehendit

Aegyptius

alatum

ser-

pentem

pingens,

caudam

ore

praesentem:

caeteraque figuris similibus, quas describit

Horus."

Ficino,

ed.

cit.,

p.

I768.

For the

religious

background

of

this

Neo-Platonic

conception

of

symbolism

cf.

F.

Cumont,

"Le

Culte

Egyptien

et le

Mysticism

de

Plotin,"

Monuments

Piot,

XXV,

1921/22.

Giehlow,

op.

cit.,

p.

23,

sees

in

the

passage

from

Ficino

an

indication

that he

regarded hieroglyphs

as

representations

of

the Ideas.

Though

this

may

be an

oversimplification

it

is

note-

worthy

that Ficino

uses the

metaphorical

expression

"ideam

. .

.

coloribus

pingere"

(ed.

cit.,

p.

763).-







ICONES

STMBOLICAE

173

becomes

blurred.1

Ficino does

not

accept

the

image

of

the

serpent

as

a mere

sign

which "stands for" an abstract

concept.

To him

the essence of

Time is

somehow

"embodied"

in

the

mysterious

shape.

By

contemplating

the

ancient

symbol

in

which those endowed

with

superior knowledge

laid down

their

insight

into the nature of time

he will

himself

arrive

at an

increasingly

clear

and

profound

understanding

of

Time,

he will "see" it here on earth as he

hopes

to see

it

when

the

body

no

longer

dims his

apprehension.

The

vogue

of

the

hieroglyph

and emblem

and the whole

wealth of

pictorial

symbolism

which followed

on

the

Neo-Platonic movement can

hardly

be

understood

except against

this

background.2

The

gravity

with

which

the

casuistry

of the emblem and

device was

discussed

by

otherwise

perfectly

sane

and

intelligent

people

remains

an

inexplicable

freak of

fashion

unless

we

understand that

for

them a

truth

condensed into

a

visual

image

was

somehow

nearer the

realm of absolute

truth

than one

explained

in

words.

It

was

not

what these

images

said that

made them

important

but

the

fact that

what

was

said was also "represented." No sane person believed that festina lente em-

bodied

a

very

profound

truth. But

the

fact that it

was

believed that

Augustus

himself

had

expressed

this motto

in

the form of an

image-the

dolphin

as

a

symbol

of

swiftness

with

the anchor

the

image

of

steadfastness

(P1.

33c)-this

fact that one could see the

whole

offestina

lente

n

a

flash

made it into

some-

thing

of a

mystery.3

It was

precisely

this

feeling

for

the

peculiar

character of

the visual

symbol

1

Since

Weinhandel,

Das

aufschliessende

Symbol,

has

investigated

the role of the visual

symbol

in the visions of St.

Nicolaus of

Flue

various

writers have

dealt

with

this

type

of

"insight symbol," cf. Helen Flanders Dunbar,

Symbolism

in Mediaeval

Thought,

New

Haven,

1929,

and W. M.

Urban,

Language

and

Reality,

London,

1939.

Maybe

this attitude

towards

the

symbol

can best be described

as a

blurring

of the distinction between

representation

and

symbolization

in

a

particular

direction. The

symbol

is

thought

to

represent

the entities it

signifies.

The

Eastern

mystic

who

meditates

on

the

holy

syllable

"Om"

hopes

to learn

from

its

qualities

(including

the silence

which

precedes

and follows

it)

something

about the

nature of

the Divine.

The

psychological pro-

cess from which this attitude springs can

perhaps

best

be illustrated

by

an

example

from

an

entirely

different

sphere.

In

the

opening paragraph

of Great

Expectations,

Dickens describes

the mental state of

a

child

who

has

never

set

eyes

on

his

parents

and

who has

nothing

to

go

by

to form

a

mental

picture

of

their

appearance

except

their

tombstone.

"As I

never

saw

my

father or

my

mother,

and never

saw

any

likeness of

either of

them

(for

their

days

were

long

before

the

days

of

photographs),

my

first

fancy

re-

garding

what

they

were

like,

were

unreason-

ably

derived from their

tombstones.

The

shape

of

the

letters

on

my

father's,

gave

me

an odd idea that

he

was a

square,

stout,

dark

man,

with

curly

black hair.

.

.

."

In this

masterly description of the dream-like muddle

which

may

beset the

mind of the

child

we

have

a

typical

instance of the

confusion

be-

tween

symbol

and

representation.

In

his

passionate

desire to

know

more

about his

father

than

he can

know,

the

boy

endows

the

conventional

symbols

of letters

with

repre-

sentational features.

2

Cf. Frances

A.

Yates,

The

French

Academies

of

the Sixteenth

Century

Studies

of

the

Warburg

Institute,

15),

London,

1947,

p.

I31

ff.

3

L.

Volkmann,

Bilderschriften

der

Renais-

sance,

Leipzig, 1923,

p.

17.

The

other

element which makes up the "mystery" of

festina

lente

is the

contradiction in

terms,

the

oxymoron

or

paradox.

For the

special

virtues

of the

acutezza

recondita

cf.

M.

Praz,

Studies in

Seventeenth-Century

Imagery

(Studies

of

the

Warburg

Institute,

3),

London,

I939,

p.

14.

Just

as

the emblem is linked with

the

"insight

symbol,"

this

form

of the

motto

connects

with

the coincidentia

oppositorum

of

the

mystic

tradition. "Denn

ein

vollkommner

Wider-

spruch,

Bleibt

gleich

geheimnisvoll

fir

Kluge

wie

ftir

Toren"

(Goethe,

Faust,

I).

12







174

E. H.

GOMBRICH

which

was lost with the

dawn

of

Rationalism. Abb6 Pluche's

complaint

that

what these

"mysterious

personages"

convey

is

rarely

worth the

wrapping,

indeed the whole

demand

for

lucid

allegories

which

became

universal

in

the

eighteenth

century,

shows that

the

original

point

of this

symbolism

was

no

longer understood. Many elements, of course, were involved in the forma-

tion of the emblem

fashion,

but

among

them

Dionysius'

conception

of the

"inappropriate"

symbol

should not

be

forgotten.

The

"mysterious"

shape

and

aura of these

images

should shock us

into

an

awareness of the

supra-

sensible

truth

there

"represented."

Seen

in

this

context

it

becomes

perhaps

less

surprising

that a

philosopher

like

Giordano Bruno

could

make

emblems

the

starting-point

of his

contemplations.1

The

very language

of

the sixteenth-

and

seventeenth-century

emblem

books

which

often seems so

exaggerated

to us

bears witness to this

Neo-Platonic

ancestry.

One

sample

from

the

English

version of

Henry

Estienne's Art

of

Making

Devices

may

stand for

many:

Bargagli

saith with

good

reason,

that a

Devise is

nothing

else,

but

a

rare

and

particular

way

of

expressing

ones

self;

the most

compendious,

most

pleasing,

and

most efficacious of all other

that humane

wit

can invent. It

is indeed most

compendious,

since

by

two or

three words

it

surpasseth

that

which

is

contained

in

the

greatest

Volumes.

And

as

a

small beame

of

the

Sun

is

able

to illuminate and

replenish

a Cavern

(be

it

never so

vast),

with

the

rays

of its

splendor:

So a Devise

enlightens

our whole

understanding,

and

by

dispelling

the darknesse

of

Errour,

fills it with

a

true

Piety,

and solid

Vertue.

It

is in

these

Devises

as

in

a

Mirrour,

where

without

large

Tomes

of

Philosophy

and

History,

we

may

in

a short

tract

of

time,

and with much

ease,

plainly

behold and

imprint

in our

minds,

all the

rules

of

Morall

and

Civil

life

....2

These

are

high

claims

indeed,

but

even

if

we

make

allowance for the

hyperbolic

conceits

of

the

text we must take

the

substance

seriously.

The

substance

is that

the device not

only

instructs

us

but

affects us.

Arguments

may

convince

but

images

have a

more direct

impact

on our

mind. He

who

sees

the truth can

no

longer

err.

He

who

is

granted

a

vision

of the

supra-natural

ideas becomes attuned

to

them;

knowledge through symbols

is

higher knowledge.

To understand the true import of this teaching we must turn from the

popular

emblem books to

the

role of

the

visual

symbol

in the

typical

esoteric

1

Frances

A.

Yates,

"The Emblematic

Conceit

in

Giordano

Bruno's

'De Gli

Eroici

Furori'

and the Elizabethan sonnet se-

quences,"

Journal

of

the

Warburg

and

Courtauld

Institutes, VI,

I943.

It is

significant

that

Tasso,

in

his theoretical

justification

of the

poetic

image,

also

appeals

to

the

Dionysian

tradition:

".

.

.

to move

readers

in

this

way

with

images,

as do the

mystic theologians

and

the

poets,

is

a much

more noble

work

than

to teach by means of demonstrations, which

is

the function

of

the

scholastic

theologian."

He insists

that the

poet's images

are

of intel-

ligible,

not of

sensible

things. ("Del

Poema

Eroico",

Opere

di

Torquato

Tasso,

Venice,

1735,

V,

p.

367.)

This

is one of the

points

where the

problems

here discussed

may

merge

with those

treated

by

R.

Tuve,

Eliza-

bethanand

Metaphysical Imagery,

Chicago,

1947.

2

Henry

Estienne,

The Art

of Making

Devices.

Translated

into

English by

T.

Blount,

London,

I646,

p.

13.







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

175

tradition

of

magic

and

mysticism.1

In Goethe's Faust

we have

a famous and

authentic

description

of

this

transition

from

seeing

to

intuition,

from

intuition

to

transformation,

of

the

unity

of

mystic

significance

and

magic

effect.

When

Faust

opens

the

mysterious

book

of Nostradamus

he sees

in

and

through

the

"Sign of the Macrocosmus" the Universe unriddled, and experiences the

exaltation

of

the

vita

contemplativa.

Ha,

welche

Wonne

fliesst

in

diesem

Blick

Auf

einmal

mir

durch

alle meine

Sinnen?

Ich

ffihle

junges, heil'ges

Lebensglhick

Neuglthend

mir durch Nerv'

und

Adern rinnen.

War es

ein

Gott,

der

diese

Zeichen

schrieb,

Die

mir

das innre

Toben

stillen,

Das arme Herz

mit Freude

fullen

Und mit

geheimnisvollem

Trieb,

Die Krafte

der Natur

rings

um

mich her

enthillen?

Bin ich

ein Gott?

Mir

wird so

licht

Ich schau in diesen reinen Zugen,

Die

wirkende Natur vor

meiner Seele

liegen.

Jetzt

erst

erkenn

ich,

was

der

Weise

spricht:

"Die Geisterwelt

ist nicht

verschlossen;

"Dein

Sinn ist

zu,

dein

Herz ist todt

"Auf, bade,

Schtler,

unverdrossen

"Die

ird'sche Brust

im

Morgenroth"

(er

beschaut

das

Zeichlen)

Wie

alles

sich zum Ganzen

webt

Eins

in

dem Andern wirkt

und lebt

Wie

Himmelskrifte

auf und

nieder

steigen

Und

sich die

goldnen

Eimer

reichen

Mit

segenduftenden Schwingen

Vom Himmel durch die Erde

dringen,

Harmonisch

all

das All

durchklingen

Welch

Schauspiel

aber

ach

ein

Schauspiel

nur...

Was Faust's

"Sign"

a

representation

of

the

Universe,

a

picture

with

angels

going up

and

down,

passing

each

other

the

golden

ewers,

or was

it

an

abstract

diagram,

a

magic

rune

of

the

kind

which

Goethe

might

have

known from

Rosicrucian

literature

(P1.

33a)

?2

The

very

fact that this

question

remains

1

The connection between

this

tradition

and Florentine Neo-Platonism is

traced

fully

by Will-Erich Peuckert, Pansophie,Ein Versuch

zur

Geschichteder weissen und

schwarzen

Magie,

Stuttgart,

1936.

2

Cf. Geheime

Figuren

der

Rosenkreuzer,Altona,

1785,

(Facsimile

Edition,

Berlin,

g1919).

One

is

reminded of the

figure

of

the

universe

which Ficino

bids his

adepts

to

have made

in a

propitious

hour

(ed.

cit.,

p.

559):

"Sed

cur nam

universalem

ipsam,

id

est

universi

ipsius imaginem permittimus?

Ex

qua

tamen

beneficium ab

universo

sperare

videntur.

Sculpet ergo

sectator

illorum

forte,

qui

poterit

formam

quandam

mundi totius

arche-

typam si placebit in aere, quam deinde op-

portune

in

argenti

lamina

imprimat

aurata."

There

follows

detailed advice as

to

the

right

hour and the colours to be used, and the

incidental

information that

a

movable model

of

the

planet

spheres

such as Archimedes had

constructed

was

"recently"

(nuper)

made

by

"our Lorenzo

the Florentine"

(Florentinus

quidam

noster,

Laurentius nomine-can

it

be

Ghiberti who

signed

the

first

Baptistery

door

LAURENTIUS

FLORENTINUS?).

Ficino

con-

tinues:

"Proinde

in

ipsis

suae domus

pene-

tralibus cubiculum construet

in

fornicem

actum,

figuris

eiusmodi et coloribus

insigni-

tum,

ubi

plurimum

vigilet atque

dormiat.

Et

egressus

domo

non tantam attentione

singularum spectaculam quanta universi







176

E. H. GOMBRICH

undecided

proves

how

far

removed the esoteric

conception

of

the

visual

symbol

is

from these

rational

categories

of

representation

and

symbolization.

The

magic sign "represents"

in

the

literal

sense

of the

word. Like

the name

it

gives

not

only insight

but

power.

The

Neo-Platonic

theory

has

indeed

accepted this consequence. For if the visual symbol is not a conventional sign

but

linked

through

the

network of

correspondences

and

sympathies

with

the

supra-celestial

essence

which it

embodies,

it

is

only

consistent to

expect

it to

partake

not

only

of the

"meaning"

and "effect" of what it

represents

but to

become

interchangeable

with

it.

We

can

hardly

understand

the Renaissance attitude towards the

visual

symbol

without

at least

taking

cognizance

of

this

most

extreme

position

in

which not

only

the

distinction between

symbolization

and

representation

is

removed

but

which threatens

even

the

distinction

between

the

symbol

and

what it

symbolizes.

Ficino

expressed

his

belief

in

the

magic

potency

of

the

image quite

openly.

In

his book

De

vita coelitus

comparandal

a

number of

chapters

are devoted to

astrological

practice and amulets. He treats at

length

"de

virtute

maginum," "quam

vim habeant

igurae

in coelo

atque

sub

coelo,"

"quales

coelestium

iguras antiqui

imaginibus imprimebant,

ac

de usu

imaginum."

Ficino

wavers a

little

in

his

attitude.

He does

not

think

that

images

on

amulets can

achieve

everything

but

he

shows

himself convinced that the

right

image

engraven

on

the

right

stone

may

have

a

very

potent

effect on health. It

is not

the

fact

that

Ficino took

over

this

superstitious

belief from

the "esoteric

tradition"

which

is

important

in our

context,

but the

arguments

which

he

uses

to

rationalize

this belief.

These

arguments

are based on the same

Neo-

Platonic

literature,

on

Plotinus and

Iamblichus,

from which Ficino's other

views

on the

virtue

of the

visual

image

are derived.

They are,

in

fact,

an

extension

of

the same

view.2

Ficino

uses

a

number of

interesting

examples

to

make his

meaning

clear.

Just

as

one

lyre

resounds

by

itself

when the

strings

of

another

are

plucked,

the

likeness

between

the

heavenly

bodies

and the

image

on the amulet

may

make

the

image

absorb

the

rays

from the stars to which

it is thus attuned.

The

argument

provides

an

instructive

instance

of what

Warburg

called die

Schlitterlogik

of the

astrologer.

For

rationally

there

is,

of

course,

no

likeness

whatever

between

the

image

Ficino bids

us to

engrave

and the star as

a

"heavenly

body."

What

he means

is

the

image

of

astrological

tradition,

of

Saturn

with

his

falx

or Mars

with

his sword.

These

images,

then,

are not

to

be regarded as mere symbols of the planets nor are they simply representations

of demonic

beings.

They

represent

the

essence of

the

power

embodied

in the

star.

If

we

give

these

symbolic

images

the

"right"

form of

which

we find

the

record

in

that

ancient

Eastern

lore

which the Neo-Platonists

held to be

divinely

inspired,

if

we

design

them

in

the

proper

way

so that

they embody

figuram

coloresque

perspiciet."

Did Ficino

have

such

an

image

in

his

house?

We

know

from

his letters

that

he had

in

his

gymnasium

a

painting

of

the

sphere

of

the

world

with

Heraclitus

and

Democritus

on either

side

(ed.

cit.,

p.

637).

Perhaps

he

attached

greater

significance

to

the influence

of this

image

than

he cared to reveal?

'Ed.

cit.,

p.

531

f.

The

importance

of

this book

is

discussed

in E.

Panofsky

and

F.

Saxl,

Melencolia

I,

(Studien

der Bibliothek

Warburg,

II),

Berlin,

1923,

p.

35

f. and

by

L.

Thorndyke,

History of

Magic

and

Experi-

mental

Science,

New

York,

I934,

IV,

p.

565.

2Bevan,

op.

cit.,

p.

76.







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

177

the

"essential" attributes

of the

Planetary

deities,

they

must of

necessity

receive

something

of

the

power

they

"represent."

Saxl drew

attention

long

ago

to

the connection

existing

between

the

importance

attached to

the

correct

"form"

of the Gods

in

the

sixteenth

century

and

the

belief

in

the

magic

efficacy of images. He showed how far these ideas were removed from our

rational

division

between "form"

and

"content."1

In Ficino this

magical

doctrine is

linked with

the whole

body

of

Neo-Platonic

aesthetics

n

the

follow-

ing

argument:2

The

objects

in

our sublunar

world

have different

qualities.

Some,

like

heat and

cold,

dryness

and

moisture,

are elemental

and

thus wedded

to

the

world of

matter.

Others,

like

brightness,

colours

and

numbers-that is

pro-

portion-appertain

both

to

our

sublunar world

and

to

the celestial

sphere.

These

mathematical

shapes

and

proportions,

then,

belong

to

the

higher

order

of

things.

Shapes

and

proportions,

therefore,

have the most intimate

connec-

tion

with

the Ideas

in

the

World Soul

or the

Divine Intellect.

"Imo et

cum

idaeis maximamhabent n mentemundireginaconnexionem."What applies to

numbers and

shapes

applies

also

to

colours,

for colour

is a

kind

of

light

which

is

itself

the

effect and

image

of

the intellect.

If

anybody

should doubt these

sympathetic

links

Ficino asks him

to consider

the

power

of

images

as a

matter

of

common

observation.

How

easily

does

a

figure

of a

mourning person

move

us

to

pity,

how

profoundly

does the

image

of a

charming person-amabilis

personae

igura-affect

the

eye,

the

imagination

and

our

humours

Ficino

then

appeals

to the

age-old

belief

according

to which

an unborn child

is

affected

by

the

parents'

mental

images

during

conception.

We need not

follow

him

further

to

see where

his

argument

leads.

It leads

to the

conclusion

that,

in

the

Neo-Platonic

theory

of

art, image making

could

be considered on a

par

with

music.

In

musical

theory

we

are more

familiar

with

the

metaphysical

Platonic

doctrine

that all

harmony

reflects

a

heavenly harmony

and that

the effects

of

music

on

the

mind are

somehow

due to

this

power

derived from

cosmic

laws.

"What

passion

cannot

music

raise

and

quell?"

In

the Neo-Platonic

theory

of

music,

so

wonderfully

epitomized

in

Dryden's

ode,

no

clear

line is

drawn

between

what

we

call

expression

in

music

and the

magic

effects

achieved

through

harmonies. The

Platonic

theory

which

banned

certain

modes of

music

because

of their

effects on the

mind,

must be seen

in

the context

of

the

medical and

physiological

effects

ascribed

to

music,

and

these,

in

turn,

were believed to be on the same level with magic phenomena and with the

physical

law of

resonance

invoked

by

Ficino.

The result of this belief

was,

in

fact,

very

similar in

the

sphere

of

music and in

that

of

art. We see the

Renais-

sance

Platonists

searching

eagerly

for

the

tradition of

the "music

of the

1

F.

Saxl,

Antike

G6tter

n

der

Spdtrenaissance,

(Studien

der

Bibliothek

Warburg,

VIII),

p.

17:

"Dieser

Begriff

der

Form

entspricht

der

Rolle

des

Namens in der

Zauberei.

Beide

sagen

etwas

fiber

das Wesen

der

Dinge

aus."

Cf. G.

Santayana's

remark

on the

Judgement

of

Paris: "The

disrobing

of

god-

desses . . . does not conform to my principles

of

exegesis,

and

I

pronounce

it

heretical.

Goddesses

cannot

disrobe,

because their

attri-

butes are

their substance."

(Soliloquies

in

England

and

later

Soliloquies,

London,

1937,

p.

241

)

2

Ed.

cit.,

p.

355.

For

a

parallel passage

see

ibid.,

p. 941-







178

E.

H.

GOMBRICH

ancients"

which must have

embodied

the

laws of the

universe and

which

was

therefore

reputed

to

have

produced

such miraculous

effects.'

Orpheus

could

lead

the

savage

race;

And

trees

uprooted

left their

place

Sequacious

of the

lyre...

It is known

that out of these efforts to

reconstruct the music of the ancients

which

moved

the

passions

there

grew,

almost as an

accidental

by-product,

the

Opera

of Monteverdi.

The

parallelism

with Ficino's

theory

of

the

image

is

complete.

He

thought

that

the numbers and

proportions

preserved

in

the

image

reflect

the

idea

in

the

divine

intellect,

and therefore

impart

to

the

image

something

of the

power

of

the

spiritual

essence which it embodies. Moreover

the

effect of

images

on

our minds

can

be considered a valid

proof

of this

type

of

magic

effect.

In

other

words,

the

Neo-Platonic

conception

favoured not

only

a removal

of the

distinction between the

representational

and the

symbolizing

functions of the

image,

but

also the

confusion of these

two

levels with what we have called

the

expressive

function. All the three

together

are seen not

simply

as various

forms of

signification

but rather as

potential

magic.

We need

not

assume that these

ideas were

consciously

accepted

by

all

people

of the

period.

But

their

presence

in

the

centre of

philosophical

specula-

tions cannot have remained

without an effect on the

vague

beliefs about

the

image

which

always

lurk,

as it

were,

on

the

fringe

of

consciousness,

ready

to

take

sway.

Thus the

painter

who had

to

represent

Justice

in

a

city

hall was

not without a

certain

philosophical

sanction

if

he first wanted

to know

what

Justice

"looked

like"

in

her

supra-celestial dwellings.

His humanist

adviser

would even know how to

find

out:

If we

only

burrow

deep

enough

into

ancient

and

recondite

lore we

may

find there

an

allusion

to one

of the

images

in

which

the ancient

sages

of the East hid their

deep insight

into

the

essence

of

Justice.

It

was

Plutarch,

for

instance,

who

reported

in

De Isidi

et

Osiride

that the

mythical

Priest of

Egypt represented

Justice

blind.2

To

paint

her blindfolded

was

thus to

reveal

a

true attribute

of the idea of

Justice.

The true Neo-

Platonist

may

even

encourage

one

to

go

a

step

further

and to

assume that

those whose

eyes

rest on the

figure

really

do behold

Justice,

and

that

there-

fore their behaviour

may

or

must be affected

by

what

they

see.

This

attitude would

explain

the immense care and

learning

which was

spent on the "correct" equipment of figures not only in paintings but also in

masques

and

pageantries

where

nobody

but

the

organizers

themselves

could

ever

hope

to

understand

all

the learned

allusions lavished on

the costumes

of

figures

which

would

only

appear

for a

fleeting

moment.3

Perhaps

the

idea

was

under the

threshold

of

consciousness

that

by being

in

the

"right"

attire

these

figures

became

genuine

"masks"

in

the

primitive

sense,

which turn

1

Cf. F. A.

Yates,

The

French

Academies,

ed.

cit.,

p. 36

ff.

2

Cf. E.

v.

Mller,

"Die

Augenbinde

der

Justizia,"

Zeitschrift fair

christliche

Kunst,

XVIII,

1905.

3

Cf. A. Warburg, I Costumi Teatrali per gli

Intermezzi

del

r589,

ed.

cit.,

esp.

p.

280,

where

it

is shown that certain emblems

were

in fact

invisible

to

the

audience

and

that

even

intel-

ligent

and

learned observers

remained

ignor-

ant

of the

true

significance

of

these

figures.







18o

E. H. GOMBRICH

spirits.

He

held

the

correct Neo-Platonic

view that the

spirits

belong

to the

supra-sensible

world and

only

assume

visible

form

to

enable

them to

have

commerce

with

human

beings.

It is

precisely

this doctrine which

informs

the

whole

Neo-Platonic

argument concerning

the true

nature

of visual

symbols.

They are the forms which the invisible entities can assume to make themselves

understood to the

limited human mind.

In other

words,

the idea of

Justice-

be

it

conceived

as

a member of the celestial

hierarchy

or as

an

abstract

entity

-is

inaccessible to the

senses.

At best we can

hope

to

grasp

it in a moment

of

ecstasy

and

intellectual

intuition. But God

has

decreed

in

His

mercy

that

these

invisible

and abstract

entities

whose

divine

radiance

no human

eye

could

support

may

accommodate

themselves to

our

understanding

and

assume

visible

shape.1

Strictly

speaking,

these

allegorical images

neither

symbolize

nor

repre-

sent the

Platonic idea. It is

the

idea

itself,

conceived

as

an

entity,

which

through

these

images

tries to

signal

to

us

and thus

to

penetrate

through

our eyes into our mind. Put in this form this conception admittedly sounds

abstruse

if

not

absurd. Yet

it

is

only

the

explicit

formulation

of an

idea which

is

implied

in

the

whole

Neo-Platonic

approach

to the

symbol.

The

very

position

which

regards

the

symbol

as

existing

"by

nature"

rather

than

by

"convention"

is

only

understandable,

as

we have

seen,

if

we

accept

the

assumption

that the

higher

orders reveal themselves

to our

limited mind

through

the

sign

language

of nature.

It is

not we who select

and

use

symbols

for

communication-it is the

Divine

which

expresses

itself in the

hieroglyph

of

sensible

things.

To rational

analysis

this

doctrine

may

reveal one more

semantic

confusion.

It is

the confusion between

the

two

meanings

of

the

word

"sign"-the

sign

as

part

of a

language

and the natural

sign,

or

indication.

Nothing

is more natural than the confusion of these two

meanings.

For in

human

intercourse

the

two

in

fact

merge

imperceptibly.

There is

no

clear

borderline

between

blushing

as an indication of

embarrassment

and

a

frown

as

an

(intentional) sign

of

anger.

But we have

no

difficulty

in

keeping

the

two

apart

as

soon

as we

approach

nature.

We realize

that

lights

on

the

horizon

may

be either flash

signals

intended as

communications,

signs

of

distress;

or

sheet

lightning, signs

of

electrical

discharges,

indications

of

ap-

proaching

storms. To

the

mind, however,

that sees the

skies

peopled

by higher

intelligences

this

distinction

is

less

clear.

The

lightning

on the horizon

may

be

a

sign

in

both the

meanings

of the

term,

an omen

through

which

an

unseen

power announces to us an impending disaster. It is therefore

less

surprising

to

notice

that the

sixteenth

century

did

not

always

distinguish

clearly

between

man-made

symbols

and

supernatural

omens.

It is well

known

what

import-

ance was

attached

in

the Reformation

period

to the

"signs

of

the

time,"

to

the

miraculous births

like

the

Papstesel

or

the

Minchskalb. Both Luther

and

Melanchthon

applied

all

the subtleties of

allegorical

or

"hieroglyphic"

inter-

pretation

to

the

individual features

of

these

natural

symbols:

the

ears of

the

Minchskalb,

for

instance,

were said

by

Luther to denote "the

tyranny

of

aural

1

Cf.

Dante,

Paradiso,

IV, 40

f.,

where the

doctrine of

accommodation

is

given

in

the

rational Thomistic form.

For

his sources cf.

G.

A.

Scartazzini's

edition,

Leipzig,

1882,

III,

p.

88

ff.







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

181

confession."

The

theoretical

justification

of

this

divinatory

technique

is

given

by

Luther

in a little

rhyme

accompanying

a

picture

of

one of these

portents:

Was

Gott

selbs

von

dem

Bapstum

helt,

Zeigt

dis schrecklich

Bild hie

gestelt ...1

Here, then,

we are almost back

at our

starting-point.

Where

every

natural

object

can

be conceived

as

a

sign

or

symbol, every symbol,

in

its

turn,

will

be

thought

of

as

existing

"by

nature"

rather than

by

convention.

To us it seems

a

far

cry

from Pico's

ghosts

and Luther's monsters

to

the creations

of

allegorical

art,

but both rest

on a common foundation.

If

the forms

of

spirits

and

portents

can

be conceived

as

signs

from God

it

is

only

consistent

that the forms

of

_-;Z--

The Monk-Calf.

From a

pamphlet

by

Luther,

1523

visual

symbols,

too,

can be conceived

as

signs

of

a

supra-sensible

presence.

It is characteristic

of

Neo-Platonic

speculation

that

it

can

absorb

these

con-

ceptions, usually

associated with

primitive mentality,

into a self-contained

metaphysical

system.

The

theory

of

emanations,

of the

"great

chain of

beings,"

succeeded

in more than one

sense

in

linking

the

highest

with the

lowest,

exalted

contemplation

with

simple superstitious practice.

Divination

through

monsters and its use

in

mass

propaganda

may

be

close

to

the lowest

level.

The

feeling

of

a

revelation of universal

harmony

roused

through

the

aesthetic

experience

may

be its most sublimated

form.

Somewhere

in

between

we

may

have

to

place

the

attitude

of

the seventeenth

century

cleric whose

oratorical

showpiece

on

Icones

Symbolicae

provided

the

starting-point

for

our

investigation.

ICf.

C.

Lange,

Der

Papstesel, 1891;

A.

Warburg,

Heidnisch-antike

Weissagung

n

Wort

und Bild zu Luther'sZeiten, ed. cit., p.

524;

H.

Grisar,

S.F. and

F.

Heege,

S.J.,

Luthers

Kampfbilder,

Lutherstudien, V,

3,

4, Freiburg,

1923.







182

E.

H.

GOMBRICH

Christophoro

Giarda

sees

the universe

in

terms

of

the Neo-Platonic tradi-

tion,

of

Dionysius

Areopagita

and his

followers.

To

him

the Arts

and Sciences

are

not

"abstract

concepts"

but

spiritual

entities,

heavenly

virgins,

the

daughters

of the

Divine

intellect,

dwelling

eternally

in the radiance

of the

intelligible world. Their very sublimity and purity makes them invisible to

our coarse

mind,

addicted as it is

to

the

service

of our

bodily

senses.

Man

in

his

ignorance

would never

have known of their

existence;

they,

in

their exalted

position,

would never

have

enjoyed

human

love

and

worship

had

not

God,

in

His

mercy,

transformed

the

whole

of

nature into

a

vast

collection

of

symbols

which

provides

the medium

through

which

these

Divine

messengers

can

accommodate themselves

to

our dim

understanding.

It is

to

the inventors of

the

hieroglyphic

art,

to

the

sages

of the

primeval

age,

that

mankind

thus

owes the boon

of

this

contact with

the

Divine,

because

it

was

they

who created

and

preserved

the unbroken tradition

of

symbolic

knowledge.

The

Symbolic

Image

provides

the means

through

which

the

inmates of

the

spiritual

world

can descend to earth and assume visible form thlere to rouse, instruct and

transform

the

mind of man

through

the

love

of

higher

things.

If

we read Giarda's

eulogy

in

its context

we become

aware

of

a

strange

parallel.

It is

clear that

in

his

formulation

the

mystery

of

the

visual

symbol-

for

it is a

mystery-is expressed

in

terms

reminiscent

of those

used

to describe

the central

mystery

of

salvation-the

incarnation

of

the

Logos.

Here we

have

reached

the end

of

our

quest.

For

the fact

that

the

Barnabite

cleric could

express

the

Neo-Platonic

conception

of

the

visual

symbol

in

this

form

without

a

feeling

of

incongruity proves

that his

doctrine,

the

antecedents

of

which

we

have tried to

trace,

was not

just

a freakish current

of

esoteric

ideas,

unrelated to

the

main

body

of

European thought.

It could

be

absorbed

by

the main stream of

religious teaching

without a

feeling

of

incompatibility.

We

clearly

cannot venture

into the vast

field that

opens up

before

us.

But the

awareness of this

larger

context

may

perhaps

help

us

to

place

our

problem

in

the

right setting.

In

reconstructing

a doctrine

of the kind

we

have

attempted

to

piece

to-

gether

there is

always

a

danger

of over-statement.

To be

sure,

the elements

existed

in

European

thought,

but

how

far were

they

accepted

as

a whole?

In

other

words,

have

we

any

right

to assume

that

artists and

public

alike

really

saw

sixteenth-

and

seventeenth-century allegories

in

this

strange

light?

Did

they

seriously

believe

them to

be

revelations

of a

higher

reality

whose

very

presence exerted its mysterious effects? Have these esoteric doctrines more

than a

certain

curiosity

value?

It

is

certainly

not

easy

to answer

this

question.

Our

attitude

towards

the

words

and

images

we use

continuously

varies.

It

differs

according

to the level

of

consciousness. What

is

rejected

by

wide-awake

reason

may

still

be

accepted

by

our

emotions.

In

our

dreams we

all

make

no difference

between

the meta-

phorical

and the

literal,

between

symbol

and

reality.

In the dark

recesses

of

our

mind

we all

believe

in

image magic.

Not

even

the

primitive,

on

the

other

hand,

believes

in

its

sole

efficacy.

In the

history

of

European

thought

this

duality

of attitudes

is

somehow

reflected

in

the

continuous

co-existence

of

Neo-

Platonic

mysticism

and Aristotelian

intellectualism.

The

tension

between

these two modes of thought, their interpenetrations, conciliations and divisions







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

183

make

up

the

history

of

religious philosophy

throughout

the Middle

Ages

and

the

Renaissance.

In

trying

to

disentangle

the Neo-Platonic

conception

of the

visual

image

we

had

to isolate

it

somewhat

artificially

out

of this

complex

texture. But

it

is well to remember that for all its fascination Neo-Platonism never held un-

disputed

sway

in

this field

any

more than

in

other

fields.

Though

it

may

have

encouraged

an

irrational

confusion between

the

functions of the

image

there

always

remained

scope

for

the

application

of "discursive reason" and

the exercise of

rational distinction

grounded

on

Aristotelian

logic.

No

history

of the

visual

symbol

in

European

art

could afford

to

neglect

this

other

powerful

tradition.

Its

importance

is

clearly

demonstrated

by

the

fact that it was

on this doctrine rather

than on Neo-Platonic

mysticism

that

Cesare

Ripa

based

his

successful

handbook

of

allegorical

imagery,

his famous

Iconologia.

As

compared

to

Christophoro

Giarda's fervent

eulogy

Ripa repre-

sents

the more

rationalist

wing

of

opinion.

In

his

introduction,

written

a

generation before Giarda, Ripa develops a theory of the allegorical personi-

fication

in

conscious

analogy

to

the Aristotelian

theory

of

definition. If we

wish to form the

image

of

a

concept

we

must

subject

it

to the same

process

of

logical analysis

as we

apply

when

establishing

its verbal

definition.

In

Ripa's theory

the

human

figure

stands for the

substance,

or

essence,

the

emblems

it holds

or

wears,

for

its "attributes."

Our choice of

attributes

is

determined not so much

by

a

scrutiny

of the sources

of ancient

wisdom as

by

a

rational search

for

qualities

which abstract

ideas

and concrete

objects may

have

in

common.1

There is no

contradiction between

Ripa's

conception

and that

of

Giarda.

Ripa's

Aristotelian

"essences" whose

intellectual intuition must

precede any

1

".

.

.

Hora

vedendosi,

che

questa

sorte

d'Imagini

si riduce facilmente

alla simili-

tudine

della

definitione, diremo,

che

di

queste,

come

di

quelle,

quattro

sono i

capi,

6

le

cagioni

principali,

dalle

quali

si

pu6

pigliare

1'ordine di

formarle,

&

si

dimandano

con

nomi

usitati

nelle

Scole,

di

Materia,

Efficiente,

Forma et Fine....

Dapoi, quando

sappiamo

per

questa

strada distintamente

le

qualiti,

le

cagioni,

le

proprietY,

&

gli

accidenti

d'una

cosa

definibile,

accioche

se ne

faccia

l'imagine, bisogna cercare la similitudine,

come

habbiamo

detto nelle

cose

materiali,

la

quale

terrA

in

luogo

delle

parole

nell'

imagine,

6

definitione

de'Rettori;

Et

la

similitudine,

che

serva

a

questo

proposito,

dovra essere

di

quelle,

che

consistono

nell'

egual

proportione,

che

hanno

due

cose

dis-

tinte

fria

se stesse

ad una

sola diversa

da ambe-

due,

prendendosi

quella

che e

meno;

come,

se,

per

similitudine di

Fortezza,

si

dipinge

la

Colonna,

perche negl'edificii

sostiene tutti

i

sassi . . .

dicendo,

che tale

e la

fortezza

nell'huomo,

per

sostenere

la

gravezza

di

tutti

i fastidii .

...

Ripa

makes

a

significant

distinction

be-

tween

the

"essentialist"

allegory (cf.

K.

R.

Popper,

The

Open

Society

and its

enemies,

London,

I946,

ch.

XI)

and

the

superficial

illustration,

which

gives

an

example

rather

than

a

definition.

"Ci6

non

e

avvertito

molto

da alcuni

moderni,

i

quali rappresentano

gl'

effetti

contigenti,

per

mostrare

l'essentiali

qualiti,

come

fanno,

dipingendo per

la

Disperatione

uno,

che

s'appica

per

la

gola

.

. .

6

simile

cose di

poco

ingegno

e di

poca

lode. . . ." Giotto's allegories of the Virtues

and

Vices, then,

would

fall under

Ripa's

ban.

He

grants,

however,

that

the

physiognomies

of

his

personifications may

be

moulded

ac-

cording

to their

significance.

Ripa's

didactic

aims come

out in

his in-

sistence

that

allegorical

images

should

always

be

clearly

labelled "unless

they

are intended

as riddles." For

the influence of

his

handbook

on

the arts

of

the

I7th

and

18th

centuries

see

E.

Mile,

L'art

rdligieux

pris

e Concile e

Trente,

Paris,

1932,

and

E.

Mandowsky,

"Ricerche

intorno all'

Iconologia

di Cesare

Ripa,"

La

Bibliofilia,1939, XLI.







184

E. H.

GOMBRICH

correct definition

could

certainly

be

reconciled

with Giarda's

Neo-Platonic

ideas

dwelling

in

supra-celestial

regions.

But the

emphasis

in

Ripa's

systematic

approach

differs

nevertheless

significantly

from Giarda's emotional

praise.

In Giarda

the

ultimate function of the visual

symbol

is

to

kindle love

through

vision. In Ripa we are nearer the established view of the didactic image as a

substitute

for

and

supplement

of the

written word.

A

discussion of

the

com-

plex

function of the didactic

image

which dominated the art of the Middle

Ages

and

continued

to

exercise its influence

in

subsequent periods

lies outside

the

scope

of the

present

essay.

It

would have to be

preceded

by

an

analysis

of

the various

modes of

illustration and

the

many

forms of interaction between

word

and

image.1

What

distinguishes

the

Neo-Platonic

conception

of

the

visual

image

is

precisely

the

emphasis

on

the

autonomy

of this form

of

sym-

bolism. This

autonomy

was

not

always

recognized.

The task

assigned

to

the

image

in

the famous

pronouncement

of

Pope Gregory

the

Great was

essentially

that

of

being

a substitute for

words:

pictures

should tell the sacred

story

to

the

unlettered who could not read the texts. There is no place in this doctrine for

the

superiority

of visual

intuition over

discursive

reason,

nor

for the direct

impact

of

forms,

colours and

proportions

on

the

mind of the beholder.

It has

always

been

assumed that the Neo-Platonic revival

of

the

Renais-

sance contributed to the

emancipation

of

art

and the

acknowledgment

of

an

independent

aesthetic

sphere.

The

importance

of the new

emphasis

on

beauty

as

a

token

of

the

Divine

and the

significance

of the

new

conception

of the

creative

process

in

art have

often been

stressed.

If

our

analysis

is

correct,

the

Neo-Platonic

conception

of the

special

virtues

inherent

in

the visual

symbol

would

also have

contributed to the enhanced status

of the

figurative

arts.

We need not

assume,

in

accepting

this

possibility,

that artists were con-

sciously

aware of

all

the

chains

in

the

Neo-Platonic

argument.

Unfortunately

we still know too

little about the

way

in

which

philosophical

ideas

percolate,

the

way

in which

they

are

first distilled into

slogans

which

in

turn direct

the

attitude

of

men towards certain values and

standards.

It is

in

this

way,

so it

seems,

that the

philosopher

influences the

actions

of

his

contemporaries

by

a

II

have

attempted

to

analyse

the inter-

action

of

symbolism

and

illustration

in

a

work

of

15th

century

religious

art

in

"Tobias

and

the

Angel,"

Harvest,

I, London,

1948.

For the

superiority of the text over the image in

mediaeval

didactic

imagery

see F.

Saxl,

"A

Spiritual Encyclopedia

of

the

later Middle

Ages,"

Journal

of

the

Warburg

and

Courtauld

Institutes,

V,

1942, esp. p.

Ioo.

Perhaps

it

is

only

among

the

mystics

that the Neo-Platonic

con-

ception

of

the

image

is

to

be found

in

its

pure

form

in

the

Middle

Ages.

We

hear

of

Suso that

"in

his

youth,

he

had caused

to

be

painted

for

himself,

upon parchment,

a

picture

of Eternal

Wisdom,

who rules

supreme

over heaven

and

earth,

and far

surpasses

all

created

things

in

ravishing

beauty

and

loveliness of

form;

for

which reason, when he was in the bloom of

youth

he

had

chosen

Wisdom for his

beloved.

He carried

this

lovely

picture

with

him

when

he

journeyed

to the

place

of studies

and he

always

set

it

before

him in

the window

of his

cell, and used to look at it lovingly with

heartfelt

longings.

He

brought

it back home

with

him on his

return,

and caused it to be

transferred to

his

chapel

wall as

a

token

of

affection.

.

.

."

(The life of

the

Blessed

Henry

Suso

by

himself,

translated

by

T. F.

Knox,

London,

I913,

p.

I34.

For

Suso's belief

in

the

magic efficacy

of the

image

see

ibid.,

p.

75.)

For

an

attempt

to

interpret

a work

of

the

I2th

century

in

the

light

of mediaeval

Neo-Platonic

thought,

see

R.

Grinnell,

"Iconography

and

Philosophy

in

the

Cruci-

fixion Window

at

Poitiers,"

The

Art

Bulletin,

I946.







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

185

process,

almost,

of

remote

control.1

There

are

few

indications that the

leaders

of

the Florentine

"Academy"

were much interested

in

the art of their

time.

One

might

read

through

all the

weighty

tomes written

by

Ficino,

Pico and

Poliziano

without

suspecting

that the

writers

rubbed shoulders with

artists

like Leonardo or Botticelli, Bertoldo or Ghirlandajo. And yet, after the lapse

of

hardly

a

generation,

the talk of the studio

is

filled with Neo-Platonic catch-

words,

and

before

a

century

has

gone

by

these

slogans

have

transformed the

whole

position

of the artist

and the whole

conception

of

art. It is

in

this in-

direct

way

rather than

by

detailed

instruction,

that

we

may

imagine

the

views

outlined

above to

have influenced the attitude of

patron

and

artist

in

the

Renaissance.

Perhaps

this

influence has

so

far

been

sought

too

exclusively

in

the

sphere

of

iconography

on the one side and

aesthetics

on

the

other. The

very

confusion

of

Neo-Platonic

thought helped

to weld form

and

content,

symbolic

significance

and aesthetic

effect,

together.

If

we

step

with these notions

in

mind

before

a

painting

like

Botticelli's

'Birthof Venus' we feel how all these influences unite in it as raysin a burning-

glass.

Whatever

the actual

"programme"

that underlies this

commission,

we

know that

it

is the

result of

passionate

efforts to re-evoke

the

"true"

image

of the

Goddess

of Love as it had been

created

by

the

ancients.2

This "true

image"

is the

form assumed

by

the

heavenly

entity

which

is

hidden

in

the

myth

of

Venus

when

appearing

before the

eyes

of the

mortals. It both

hides

and

proclaims

her

spiritual

essence. The influences which

such an

image

exerts

on our

senses,

in

every meaning

of

the

term,

would

not have

been con-

sidered

incompatible

with

any

spiritual

or

allegorical

interpretation.

On

the

contrary-this

effect of the

image

on

our

passions

and

emotions

would

have

been

accepted

as a

proof

of

its true

correspondence

to the

heavenly

idea,

a

natural outcome of its magic efficacy. The patron who had it in his room for

contemplation

would surrender

to

its influence

and would find in

it

a

true

guide

to the

supra-sensible principle

of

Love

or

Beauty,

of which

Venus

is

but

the

visible

embodiment

and

revelation.

In

short,

the antithesis between

aesthetic and

literary

interpretation,

be-

tween

sensuality

and

symbol, may

largely

be

imported

by

us.3 If

these

works

of

the

Renaissance

have

struck

some

observers as

"pagan"

it is

not

because

1

Modern

art

and

literature

provides

a

number of

interesting examples

of

this

type

of

influence.

The

impact

of theories like

those

of Freud or Jung extends much further than

the

small

circle

of those who read and under-

stood the technical

writings

in

which these

ideas

were first

expounded.

Some

of

the

catchwords

derived

from

these

theories were

often

distorted

beyond

recognition

but this

did not

deprive

them

of

their

fascination

and

influence.

The

attraction

and effect of

"Platonic"

words

like

idea or

furore

may

well

be

compared

to

that of

terms like

"unconscious,

"

"symbol,"

"pattern"

or "in-

tegration,"

which become

heavy

with

vague

but emotional

significance.

2

Cf. my article on "Botticelli's Mytholo-

gies," Journal

of

the

Warburg

and

Courtauld

Institutes, VIII,

I945,

p.

53

if.

3

It

is in

this

direction,

perhaps,

that

one

might suggest a compromise between the

points

of

view on

Renaissance

allegory

ex-

pressed by

O.

Brendel

and U.

Middeldorf in

their

exchange

of letters in

The Art

Bulletin,

I947.

Prof.

Middeldorf is

certainly

right

when

he

emphasizes

that the search

for

recondite

symbolism

should not

blind us

to the

more

obvious

qualities

of

"bedroom

art."

But

the

one

approach

does

not

necessarily

exclude

the other.

Perhaps

even

this

type

of

art was

thought

sometimes to

exert

an

influence

beyond

its

erotic

appeal.







186 E.

H.

GOMBRICH

they

are

anti-religious

but

rather because in

them

the attitudes

toward

religious symbols

are

transferred

to

secular

themes.

From

this

point

of

view the

allegory

of the

Baroque period

may

perhaps

be

seen

as another

swing

of

the

pendulum.

The

unity

of sense

and

sensuality

which had been the secretof the Neo-Platonic visual symbol in the Renaissance

was

now

claimed

and

accepted

by

religious

art. It is

hardly

an accident

that

our

Christophoro

Giarda moved

in

the ambiente f Urban VIII.

Born

in

1596,

he

belongs

to the

generation

of

Cortona and

Bernini,

the

generation,

that

is,

in which

religious

art was

assigned

the

task

of

rousing

the

mind from vision

to visions.

In

the

great

ceiling

compositions

of the

Baroque

masters

we find

the

illustration

of

Giarda's

world,

in

which

the

abstractions

dwell with the

angels

in

a realm

of

light

and bend down

to

us mortals to

point

the

way

to

higher

spheres.

In

these visions

of

the

open

heaven the Church

speaks

the

language

of accommodation to

perfection.

Who would

say

where

representa-

tion

ends and

symbols begin

in

Sacchi's Divina

Sapientia

P1.

33b)

or Pozzo's

ceiling in S. Ignazio in Rome (P1. 34)?1

And

yet

this art

may

have carried

in

it

the

seeds

of its own destruction.

We

are reminded

of

Dionysius

the

Areopagite's

warning against

analogous

symbols.

The

representational

illusion swallowed

up

the

symbol.

Ration-

alism

demanded

a neat distinction

of

the two.

In

its insistence

on

lucidity

it

worked

towards

a

divorce

of

the three functions

of

the

image.

The

result

is

apparent

in the

history

of

art since the

Age

of Reason. First the

symbolic

function

was denied

a

place

in

art,

then the

representational

function as

such

was

placed

outside the

pale;

we have

become used

to the identification

of all

art with

the

function

of

"expression."

But this revolution

in

its turn had

to contend with the

surviving

tenets

of

the Neo-Platonic conception of the image. Some features of academic

classicism

preserve,

as it

were,

the esoteric

view of the visual

symbol

in

a

1

H.

Tetius,

Aedes

Barberinae, Rome,

1642,

concludes

his

description

of Sacchi's

famous

painting

with

an

eulogy

which is

strikingly

reminiscent of

Giarda's

terminology.

One

day,

so

we

hear,

Urban VIII visited the

palace

and

sat at table

under the fresco

when,

quite

by

accident,

a

text on Divine Wisdom

was chosen for

the lesson.

All

present

were

struck

by

this

mysterious

coincidence. "At

last we were able to behold Divine Wisdom,

which we had never

seen before

except

darkly

and,

as it

were,

covered

by

a

veil,

openly

and

without

a

vizor so that

every

one could con-

template

her: her

Divine

and

lucid Arche-

type

(archetypam)

n

the

Holy

Writ,

her

proto-

type

(protypam)

in

Urban

and her

representa-

tion

(ectypam)

in

the

painting.

What

light,

what

splendour

was thus

infused into the

room

and

revealed

to

all

who surrounded

the

exalted

Prince.

In

truth even the

very

walls

seemed

to

leap

with

joy (parietes

ipsi

gestire

videbantur)

and to

congratulate

themselves on

this high honour. We, however, were filled

with

joyful

confidence

and

felt

transported

to

the

very

presence

of Divine

Wisdom

(quasi

in

ipsam

Sapientiam

Divinam

rapti)

so that

in

future

nothing

obscure,

nothing impenetrable

could

ever occur

to us."

It

is

easy

to

dismiss

such

an

account

as

empty

flattery

but the

psychological

state of

rapture

it

describes,

into

which even the walls are

drawn,

gives

a

perfect

idea

of

the

effects

at which the

art

of the Baroque period is aiming. For the

programme

to

Sacchi's fresco

see

Incisa's

article

in

L'Arte,

1924,

p.

64.

The survival of

this

type

of

allegorical

composition

and its

gradual suppression through

rationalist

criti-

cism is

analysed

in H.

Tietze,

"Programme

und Entwtirfe

zu

den

grossen

Oesterreich-

ischen

Barockfresken,"

Jahrbuch

der kunst-

historischen

Sammlungen

in

Wien,

XXX,

191

I.

The aesthetic relevance

of

these

programmes

is stressed

by

K. L.

Schwarz,

"Zum

aesthet-

ischen Problem des

Programms,"

Wiener

Jahrbuch

fiir

Kunstgeschichte,

XI,

1937.







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Tetius,

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(p.

i86)







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

187

strangely

watered-down

form. Classicist

teaching

turns on

the

advice

that

the true artist should

not

copy

nature-he

must

ennoble,

"idealize"

it

by

representing

not crude

reality

but the

Platonic idea

behind it.

A

genius

will

be

granted

the

vision of these Divine ideas in his

moments

of

rapture.

But

for those who are no geniuses there is a safer way to the same haven. In the

antique

statues,

or rather

in

their

plaster

casts,

they

can

find

a

storehouse

of

the Platonic

ideas.

Many

influences

contributed to

the

formation of

this

doctrine that

the ancient statues

represent

Platonic

ideas,

but one of

them

we would

probably

find

to be the

Neo-Platonic

mode of

thought

which

saw

in

the

images

handed down from the

past

a

revelation

of

essential

knowledge.

It is true that the reason

given

for

this

estimation of

the

classical

images

had

changed,

even

though

it still

retained its Platonic

character. It

was

based

on

the identification

of the idea with the

universal

concept.

What

we

see

with

our

bodily

eyes

is

only

the

particular. Only

through

the

process

of

"abstrac-

tion" do we

arrive

at the

universal.

In

the

antique

this

abstraction

has

already been performed. The "accidents" of matter are not represented by

the

classical artist.

He does not

portray

the

individual

but the

type,

not a

particular

man

but

the

image

of man

as

such.'

But however

plausible

the

argument may

sound that

the

more

"general-

ized" or schematic

image

is

nearer to the

"abstract" or

universal

concept

than

is the

naturalistic

or

particularized representation,

even

this

last

stronghold

of

Platonic

aesthetics

rests on

mistaken

semantic

analysis.2

The

idea

of an in-

ductive

process through

which we

can rise

from the

particular

to

the

general

by leaving

out individual traits has

been

challenged

in

logic-in

the

realm

of

the

image

it

certainly

rests on

no

foundations.

A

moment's

reflection

will

show

that the most schematic or

rudimentary

image

can

be

intended as a

representation

of an individual while the most detailed

portrait

can stand for

the

concept

or

type.

It is

not

the

degree

of

naturalism

which

determines

the

question

whether the

image

of a

horse is to

serve as a

symbol

for

the

universal

concept

"horse"

or as a

portrait

of a

particular

horse. A

photograph

in a

text-

book

or on

a

poster

may

represent

the

type

or

serve as a

symbol-a

mere

primitive

scrawl

may

be

intended as a

representation

of

the

individual.

Only

the context can determine

this distinction

between

symbol

and

representation.

Maybe

it was

this

Platonic

identification of

the

abstract

with the

general-

ized which finished

allegorical

imagery

as a

branch of

art.

The

phrase

of

the

"bloodless" abstraction was no

empty

metaphor.

Artists

began

to think

that

the more

generalized was the concept they had to symbolize, the paler and

1

Cf.

Reynolds, Discourses,

IV.

"A

history

painter paints

man in

general;

a

portrait

painter,

a

particular

man,

and

consequently

a

defective model."

2I1

do not wish to

imply

that these

remarks

exhaust

the

problem

of

the

universal

in

art.

But

the

word "abstract"

is

rather

apt

to

confuse the

problems

involved. As I. A.

Richards

observed

in relation to his

own

field

of

study:

"It

is

perhaps important

to

insist

S.

.

that abstract

thinking

is

not a

highly

specialised sophisticated intellectual feat ..

the

simplest

organism

when its

behaviour is

selective

is

abstracting

....

English

philo-

sophical

thought

. .

. was

distracted

into

fruitless

argument

by

a

blunder

about this.

S...

it was

supposed

that

the mind

began

with

concretes and

then

performed

a

peculiar

operation

which

resulted

in

abstract

ideas.

But

the mind is

primordially

abstractive;

of

whatever it

handles

it takes some

aspects

and

omits

others.

. . ."

(Interpretation

n

Teaching,

London,

1938,

p.

380.)







188

E.

H.

GOMBRICH

more lifeless should

be the

representation.

Thus

the visual

symbols

of

invisible

entities

became more

shadowy

every day.

Even

in

the

nineteenth

century

they

continued

to

parade

their

emblems on the

corners of

monuments

and on

the

pediments

of museums and

stock-exchanges1-but

they

had

acquired

the

faculty of making themselves as invisible as the abstractions they were sup-

posed

to

symbolize.

1

For

the

19th-century

use

of

allegories

cf.

Jakob

Burckhardt's

lecture

"Die

Allegorie

in

den

Ktinsten"

in

Vortrdge,

BMle,

1919,

p.

374.

H.

Janitschek,

Die

Gesellschaft

er Renaissance

in

Italien,

Stuttgart,

1879,

p.

38, gives

an

excellent

description

of

this

process

of dis-

sociation:

"Die

moderne

Kunst

vermag

mit

der

Allegorie

nichts

mehr

anzufangen;

die

Superklugheit,

die uns

anerzogen

wird,

die

skeptische

Stimmung,

der wir

uns

nicht

entschlagen

k6nnen,

hindern

uns,

die von

einem

Maler, Dichter,

Bildhauer

einer

Gestalt

unterschobene

Bedeutung

mit

derselben

ugleich

als

selbstverbundenes

Ganze zu

fassen;

es

tritt unter unseren

Augen

die

L6sung

der

Elemente sofort ein."

APPENDIX

From the introduction to Christoforo

Giarda's

BibliothecaeAlexandrinae cones

Symbolicae,

Milan

16261

(Ideas

Made

Visible)

While

all

knowledge

that

concerns

Science and Virtue is

useful to

man,

the

know-

ledge

which

pertains

to the

invention

and construction

of

symbolic images

by

far

excels

everything else;

for thanks to this boon the mind which is

banished from

heaven

into

x

The full title

of

the

book

is

BibliothecaeAlexandrinae

Icones

Symbolicae

P. D.

Christofori

Giardi Cler.

Reg.

S.

Pauli

Elogiis

illustratae,

Illustrissimo

loanni

Baptistae

Trotto

Praesidi

et

Reg.

Consiliariodicatae. There are

two

editions

apud

lo. Bidellium

(Milan),

I626,

and

I628.

The text

and

illustrations

are

reproduced

in

G.

Graevius

et

P.

Burmannus,

Thesaurus

Antiqu.

et.

Histor.

Italiae,

IX,

6.

The

author,

Christophoro

(Pietro

Antonio)

Giarda,

was a

member

of the Barnabite

order;

born

in

1595

at

Vespolata

(Novara),

he

took

the

vows

in

1613,

studied rhetoric

at Milan

and

philosophy

and

theology

at

Pavia,

became

a

priest

in

I620

and

for

three

years taught

rhetoric at

Montargis

(France).

He

then

returned

to

the Barnabite Institu-

tion

of

S. Alessandro

in

Milan. This

important

college

had been given a library by the Milanese nobleman

and

diplomat

Carlo Bossi

(1572-1649).

According

to

Giarda's

preface

this

"Alexandrian"

library

was the

worthy

heir

of

the

original

one

by

reason of

the

wealth,

variety,

order

and

beauty

of its

volumes.

Its

divisions

(scrinia)

were decorated

with

the

personifications

of

16

Liberal

Arts

which marked the

grouping

of the

library

books.

It

is

significant

that we are

not

told who the

artist was who

designed

them-judged by

the

feeble

engravings

of

Giarda's

book he

was

not

a

great

master.

Perhaps

the

programme

for these

figures

had been

drawn

up by

the

donor,

C.

Bossi,

himself,

as we

know

that

he was

interested

in

emblematics,

a

manuscript

De

impresiis

t emblematibus

eing

listed

among

his

works.

Giarda's

speeches

or sermons on

the

allegorical

figures

of

the

"Alexandrian"

library

were delivered on

the occasion of a meeting of the Barnabite Congrega-

tion at Milan in

1626,

when

custom demanded that

the

professors

at

the

College

should

present

the

guests

with a

sample

of their skill. He

dedicated the

published

version

to

G. B.

Trotto,

a

president

of

the

Milan

Senate.

Giarda's

subsequent

fate

is

interesting.

After

preach-

ing

with

great

success

in

Bologna

and

Rome he rose

in

the

hierarchy

of the order

and

became

ultimately

the

director of its entire Roman Province.

Thanks

to the

patronage

of Cardinal

Francesco

Barberini he was

called to the

Congregation

of the Index.

After

the

accession of

Innocent

X

he seems to

have

mainly

been

engaged

in

pressing

for

the

canonization of St.

Francois

de Sales.

In

May

1648

his

life took a

dramatic

turn.

The

Pope

in

person

consecrated

him

Bishop

of Castro.

This appointment proves that Giarda's reputation for

loyalty

and

courage

must have

stood

high.

For

Castro

was

no

ordinary Bishopric.

A

dispute

raged

between

the

Pope

and

the House of Farnese

as

to

their

respective

rights

in this

small

town

in

the Orvieto

area. Giarda

did

not

proceed

to

his

contested seat

immediately

but

stayed

in

Rome for another ten months.

In

March

1649

he left

with a small

retinue

to

take

up

his

appoint-

ment

and

was

promptly

murdered

by

Ranuccio

Farnese's bravi

while

spending

the

night

in an inn

on

the

way.

The

Pope's revenge

was

terrible.

Castro

was

destroyed

and a

pillar

erected

with

the

inscription:

"Quifu

Castro." The

diocese,

of

course,

ceased to exist.

Cf. P.

G.

Boffito,

Scrittori

Barnabiti

o della

Congregazione

dei Chierici di San

Paolo,

1533-1933,

with full biblio-

graphy.







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

189

this

dark

cave

of

the

body,

its

actions

held in

bondage by

the

senses,

can

behold

the

beauty

and

form

of

the Virtues

and

Sciences divorced from all

matter and

yet

adum-

brated

if not

perfectly

expressed

in

colours,

and

is

thus

roused to an even

more fervent

love

and desire

for

them.

For Love

embraces

Cognition

as a

blood-relation

who

will

never

bring

forth the fairest

offspring

of

Love

in

any

mind

unless

she

be

wedded

in

intimate union to the Beautiful and the Good. What, however, was wrought more

beautifully

by

Nature or created

as a

greater good

by

God immortal than

the

very

Virtues

and Sciences?

If

only they

could be seen

by

human

eyes

as other

things

are

they

would

truly

kindle

such

amazing

love for themselves in

all

hearts

that all men

would

spurn

lust,

forget

the

craving

for

power, quell

their

desire

for

riches and

would

flock

together

to

pursue

them.

Now,

however,

the

Sciences,

the

rulers

and

queens

over all

fields

of

knowledge

and

the

judges

and

arbiters

of all

actions,

although, by

their

nature,

they

not

only

outshine

with

their

light

the minor

stars but would even dim the sun

by

comparison,

can

never-

theless

not be seen

by

the human

mind,

enclosed

as

it

is in

the

night-like

dwelling

of

the

body,

as

it

could

not sustain their immense

radiance

without

turning away

the

eyes.

For

the mind

is

the

eye

of the soul.

(The

Languageof

Accommodation)

It

is

the

same

with

fire:

just

as

when

it is

nourished

by grosser

matter we

can

see

it,

but when

it returns

in

purer

form

to its

proper

abode

it

eludes,

by

its

purity,

the

power

of

human

vision;

so the

most noble Arts

and

Disciplines,

as

abstract

from the

senses,

are the less

apprehended

by

us the clearer

they

become

in

themselves;

but

made

concrete

by

some means accommodated

to our minds

through

the

excellent

admixture

of

colours,

they

can be

grasped

more

easily,

more

clearly

and

better.

For

all the

wisest men

are

agreed

that it is

impossible

to

love what

cannot be

apprehended

either

by

reason

or

by

the senses. As

nothing

can

be

apprehended by

the senses that is not somewhat

corporeal,

nothing

can be understood

by

our mind in

its

depressed

condition

that has

not the

appearance

of a

body.

Who,

then,

can

suffi-

ciently

estimate

the

magnitude

of

the debt

we owe to those who

expressed

the Arts

and

Sciences

themselves

in

images,

and so

brought

it

about

that

we

could not

only

know

them

but

look at them as

it

were with our

eyes,

that we can

meet

them and

almost

converse

with

them about

a

variety

of matters?

(The

inventors

f

the various

LiberalArts suchas

Moses,

the

ounderof

Divinity,Socrates,

the

inventor

f

Philosophy,

uclides,

Ptolemaeus

tc. were

rightly

honoured

y

the

ancients

ike

gods

and rewarded

ith

immortal

ame.)

Should

then the teachers

of the

symbolic

doctrine who

brought

these noble

faculties

not

only

before

our minds but before

our

very eyes

and made them into familiar

and,

as it were, domestic companions of men, should these be the only ones to be cheated

of

their

just

reward

of

well-deserved

praise?

To me

nothing

seems

more

fitting

for the

doctrine,

more

elegant

for its

sweetness,

more suitable for

rousing

the

mind

than the

invention

of

Symbolic

Images;

those, therefore,

who first

thought

out this art I

would

not

only compare

to the

initiators

of

the

Liberal Arts but

rather to the author of all

things

and

deem them

most

alike

to

God the Creator.

(The

Ideas

dwell in

the

Mind

of God)

In

the

rich mind of

the Godhead there

flourished,

ere the

memory

of

centuries

began,

there

still

flourish and will continue to

flourish

as His

daughters, yet

not

distinct

in

any way

from

their

mother,

the fairest

Virtues---Wisdom, Goodness,

the effective

'3







190

E.

H.

GOMBRICH

Power

of

things,

Beauty,

Justice,

Dignity

and all the rest of this

kind.

They

were

all

most

worthy

to

be

much

known

and

beloved.

And

yet,

because

of

the

exceeding

radiance of their

nature

they

could not

be

known

and

thus,

unknown,

they

could

not

be

loved

in

any way.

What, then,

could

God,

their

father,

do?

It

was not

fitting

to

allow

such

illustrious

daughters

to

remain

for all

Eternity

secluded

with

Him in

the

light, separated and far removed from the notice of man. But how could he

bring

them

to

the notice and

before the

eyes

of

mortals

when the

outstanding

radiance of the

Divine

virtues on

the one

side,

the

dullness of our

understanding

on the

other,

was

such

a

great

obstacle?

(Nature

a

Book

of

Symbols)

He

spoke-and

with a

word all

the

elements,

and

within

the elements

all the

species

of

things,

all

the

animals

on

earth,

all

the kinds of fish

in the

water,

all

the

variety

of

birds

in

the

air,

all

the

prodigies

in

the

fiery

sphere,

all

the

stars in

heaven

and

its

lights-these

He turned

into so

many Symbolic

Images,

as

it

were,

of those

perfections

and made and designed them all at once and presented them in the library of this

Universe,

or

if

you

prefer

it

so,

in

this

theatre,

to

the

contemplation

of man.

Let them

approach,

then,

the

mortals,

let

them

only

enquire,

and

deny,

if

they

can,

that

the

easiest

access

to the

contemplation

of

Things

Divine

is

open

to

them,

when

all

things

which can

be

perceived by

the

senses are the

images

of

these,

imperfect

it

is

true,

but

yet

sufficiently

suited to infer

from

their

appearance

and

operation

the

dignity

of

Divine

Matters.

(Superiorityf

Vision)

Believe

me,

it

was

for similar

reasons that

the

Arts

and

Sciences

went about

as

strangers and pilgrims in the habitations of men. No one could have known them by

appearance,

hardly

even

by

name-mentioned

again

and

again,

sometimes

as

the

nomenclature of

a

philosophic

school,

sometimes

of a

department

of

learning

and other

studies,

but

hardly

pronounced,

they

had

vanished

like

a

shadow.

Nor

could

anybody

have

kept

any

record

of

them in

his

mind

(save

the

learned,

whenever indeed

it

might

engage them)

had not

this

heavenly

institution of

expression through

Symbolic Images

fixed

the

most

noble

nature of

these arts

more

clearly

in

the

eyes

and minds

of

all

and

had

not

the demonstration

of

their

sweetness

aroused the

eager study

even

of the

unlearned.

For,

by

the

faith of

heaven

and

of

man,

is

there

anything

which could

demonstrate

the

power

of these

excellent

faculties

more

convincingly,

which could

serve

as

sweeter

recreation and

move us

more

profoundly,

than this

very

learned

use

of

Symbolic Images

with its

wealth

of

erudition?

The other modes of demonstration which might be mentioned in great profusion

are

not

devoid

of

virtue,

but

they

all

require

a

very

acute

intelligence

to be

understood.

The

Symbolic Images,

however,

present

themselves

to

contemplation,

they

leap

to

the

eyes

of their

beholders and

through

the

eyes

they penetrate

into

the

mind,

declaring

their nature before

they

are

scrutinized,

and

so

prudently temper

their

humanity

that

they

appear

to

the

unlearned as

masked,

to the

others

however,

if

they

are

at least

tolerably

learned,

undisguised

and

without

any

vizor. How

pleasantly

they

perform

this,

Sweetness

herself,

if

she

could

speak,

could

hardly

describe.

(The

Effects

of

the

Image)

For first every image and likeness, whether framed in words or expressed in colours,







ICONES

SYMBOLICAE

19

I

has this

quality

that

it

greatly delights

hearers and

spectators.

Hence

we

find that the

wisest of

poets

and

orators,

to whom

it

was

given

to

mix in their

speech

sweetness with

usefulness,

often use

poetical

and rhetorical

images.

Furthermore

our

delight

is

greatest

if

this

image

is of a

person

or

object

most

dearly

beloved

by

us-for

then it

functions,

as

it

were,

vicariously

and we

tacitly accept

it instead

of

what is absent.

Finally, were it not for the fact that images are most powerfully endowed with the

capacity

of

rousing

the

mind

of

those who behold

them

to

love and emulation of what

they

represent,

would

the Greeks

or

the

Romans,

the wisest of all

nations,

have

filled

their

public

and

private

edifices with the

images

of

their most

outstanding

men?

Or

would

the members

of

ruling

houses who have

marriageable daughters

send their

carefully

worked

portraits

to other

princes?

I

tremble to

praise

the wisdom of those men who were

the first to fix the

symbolical

images

of the Arts and Sciences. For what could

you

desire,

what would be

fitting

to

demonstrate the excellence of those

heavenly virgins,

to

delight

the minds of the

beholders and

to

kindle

in the soul of all

a

flaming

desire

for them? Do

you

desire the

power

of

persuasion?

These are

like

silent

messengers,

dumb

interpreters,

witnesses

worthy

of

all faith and

authority.

Do

you

desire

the

enjoyment

of

elegance?

What

type

of eyeglass, what mirror, what rainbow in the sky did ever show the sun to such delight

of

the

spectators

as

the

Symbolic Images-those

clearer

eyeglasses,

those more brilliant

mirrors,

those

more

gorgeous

rainbows-show

the

forms of

the

Sciences in the most

elegant way?

Or

do

you

want the

gift

of

rousing

the

passions?

The

golden

chains which

were said to issue from the

mouth

of

Hercules and to bind

the

ears and minds

of

men

are

as

nothing compared

to the attraction exercised

by

this

art.

(The

Tradition

of

Primeval

Wisdom)

This arcanum

was

understood

from

the

beginning

of the

nascent world

by

the

wisest men

of

the

primal

age,

and it was

from

them that first this

usage

of

forming

these

images derived, having been handed down through all the intervening centuries through

nearly

all

literatures,

and

finally

came to

our own

age.

Who that is well

versed

in

antiquities

does not know

of

the memorable two

columns,

one made

of brick

to

resist

fire,

the other of marble to resist

water,

on which all the arts were

depicted

and

en-

graved

so that

they

could be

transmitted

to

future

generations?'

For from

these

the

Egyptians

borrowed the excellent doctrine of the

Hieroglyphs

which we admire so much. The Greeks followed in their

footsteps

and left no Art or

Science

unadorned

by

Symbolic

Images.

What kind of

stone

or

metal is there in

which

they

did not

express

the forms of the

Sciences?

What

shade or colour

which

they

omitted

in

their

representation?

It

was no

thing

to be

relished

by

vulgar

erudition

but one whose

singular majesty

filled

them with ineffable

delight.

Behold the Greek

cities

under a

generous sky,

on

a

fruitful

soil,

surrounded

by

a

friendly

sea,

crowded

with statues, images and paintings through which the splendour of the Virtues and

Sciences,

albeit

only

painted

and

wrought,

shone

forth with

such

vigour

that the

chastest fires were cast into the

eyes

of

all,

and

through

the

eyes

into

their

souls,

inflam-

ing

them to the

worship

of those

of

whose

beauty

the

Symbolic

Images

had convinced

them.

Should

we, then,

deem their actions

wise

or foolish?

If

foolish,

what madness is

there

in the name of

science,

what

folly

in

philosophy,

what

bungling

in the

laws,

what

ignorance

in all the

arts which

allowed

their followers

to

indulge

in such vile

hallucinations over such a clear

matter?

If,

on

the other

hand,

we

pronounce

those

to

have acted

very wisely,

then

we

must

all

concede what follows

therefrom: that

the

1

Cf.

above,

p. 169,

note

2.

'3*





gombrich, icones symbolicae the visual image in neo-platonic thought

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