EMILE MALE ~ ARS MORIENDI
ARS MORIENDI ~ The ART of DYING
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[Excerpted from Religious Art in France: the Late Middle Ages by Emile Mâle, translated by Marthiel Matthews. Princeton University Press, 1986]
[quote]
The Ars moriendi is the work of a monk or priest who had seen many people die. In this little book we have the somber experience of a man who had collected together many last words, barely spoken... The text was often striking, but it was the astonishing woodcuts above all that spread its fame throughout Europe. Here it is indeed a question of Christian hopes and fears: death appears not as a farcical dance, but as a serious drama played around the bed of the dying man; angel and devil stand at his side, contending for the soul that will soon depart. Formidable moment! The Christian needed to know in advance the temptations and anguish of the terrible dark hours to come in order to learn how to triumph over them... The dying man is exposed to five principal temptations. God, however, does not abandon the Christian, and five times sends His angel to comfort him.
The first temptation attacks his faith. The old print shows the dying man on his deathbed... Christ and the Virgin are at his side, but he does not see them, for a devil raises the covers behind his head and hides the heavens from him: so little is required for men to forget God. His eyes, meanwhile, stray to a vision sent him by the devil. He thinks he sees pagans kneeling before their idols, and an ironic voice whispers in his ear: These people at least saw the gods they adored, but you believe in something you have never seen, something nobody will ever see. Have you ever heard of a dead man returning from up there to bear witness and affirm your faith?
The poor dying man finds no answer. But on the following page we see that an angel from God has swooped down to his bedside. Do not listen to the word of Satan, the angel says. He has lied since the beginning of the world. No doubt all that you believe is not clear, but God has willed it thus, so that you shall have the merit of believing. This is a part of freedom. Therefore, stand firm in your belief; think of the abiding faith of the patriarchs, the apostles, and the martyrs. And the saints of the Old and New Law appear at the head of the deathbed. Behind the foremost ranks, we see other nimbuses. With a few strokes the artist has given the impression of a great army receding into the background.
When the devil cannot shake the dying man's faith, he changes tactics. He no longer denies God, but represents Him as inexorable. After attacking faith he now tries the virtue of hope. Hideous monsters again rove around the sick man's bed. One presents him with a large parchment document: this is the list of all the evils that the poor creature has committed during his sojourn on earth. And by a maleficent incantation, his crimes take bodily form and appear before him. He sees a woman with whom he has sinned, and a man he has cheated; he sees the poor hungry and naked beggar he has turned away from his door; and finally, he contemplates with horror the corpse of the man he killed, whose wounds are still bleeding. The chorus of demons howls: You fornicated, you took no pity on the poor, you murdered. And Satan adds, You were a son of God, but you became the son of the devil; you belong to me.
The angel again descends from heaven, accompanied by four saints. They are St. Peter, who thrice denied his Master; Mary Magdalene, the sinner; St. Paul, the persecutor whom God struck down to convert him; and the good thief, who repented on the cross. These are the great witnesses of divine mercy. The angel presents them to the dying man and speaks words filled with celestial sweetness: Do not despair. Even though you had committed as many crimes as there are drops of water in the sea, one contrite impulse of the heart is enough. The sinner has only to moan in order to be saved, for the mercy of God is greater than the greatest crimes. There is only one grave sin, and that is despair. Judas was more guilty for despairing than were the Jews who crucified Christ. When they hear these words, the devils disappear, crying: We are vanquished!
If God pardons all who are truly contrite, then Satan must turn man's thoughts away from his own salvation, and prevent him from repenting. That is why he causes soul-shaking images to pass before the eyes of the dying man. He shows him his wife and baby. Without him, what will become of them? What will happen to his house? A devil stretches forth an arm and the house appears; the door of the wine cellar is open and a worthless servant taps a barrel of wine; a thief enters the courtyard and unceremoniously makes off with the horse in the stable. What can he do? How can he save these riches that he loved more than God himself?
The angel again comes to the Christian's aid. In turn, it makes images appear to the dying man, but images that console. It shows him Christ naked on the cross. Following his example, we also must die stripped of everything; like our Master, we must renounce the things of this earth; and be at peace about the fate of our loved ones: God will watch over them. And in fact, an angel covers up the dying man's beloved wife and infant with a veil.
The devil does not yet give up. If he cannot make the sick man think of others, he must be made to think of his own sufferings: he must be made to blaspheme, and accuse God. Satan whispers in his ear: You suffer too much; God is not just. Look at the people around you. They pretend to sympathize with your ills, but they really are thinking only of your money. When he hears this, the dying man rises up in bed. He is filled with hatred for God and for men; he throws back the covers, pushes over the table on which bottles and concoctions stand, and with a kick pushes back the heir who had come to his bedside. The servant stands stupefied, a tray in her hand.
The angel reappears and the room fills with consoling visions. Glorified martyrs triumphantly carry the instruments of their torture: St. Lawrence, St. Stephen, St. Barbara, St. Catherine, and Christ Himself as He had appeared to St. Gregory. The angel speaks with its accustomed gentleness: Do not complain. The Kingdom of Heaven is not for those who murmur. What are your sufferings compared with your sins? Moreover, these sufferings will be accounted to you; bear in mind that suffering is useful; it obliges men to turn to God. Look at Christ and all the holy martyrs; they suffered without complaint, and were patient until death.
Repulsed as always, Satan makes a final assault. With his profound knowledge of sin, he knows that pride is the last sentiment in man's soul to die. Thus, he appeals to the pride of the dying man who is breathing his last. Demons with heads of animals place crowns around his bed. You have faith, hope, and charity, they say. Ah, you are not like those men who, after a life of crime, repent on their deathbed. Why you are a saint; you deserve a crown.
The dying man is about to die with his heart full of pride when a troup of angels fly to his aid. One shows him the mouth of Leviathan into which the devils had been cast because of pride, another points to St. Anthony who triumphed over all temptations through humility; and another says to him: You must be as humble as a small child to enter heaven; think of the Virgin chosen by God because of her humility. And the heavens open at once to reveal the Virgin beside the Trinity.
The struggle is over. Panting and sweating in anguish, the dying man has fought the last battle and won. The reader also pants. How arduous it is, the birth of the soul into eternal life! The last page of the book brings a sense of deliverance. The Christian has just died, and the priest who has heard his last words places a wax candle in his hand. His soul is saved. With claws extended, jaws open, and hair bristling, the demon pack howls. But in vain. The soul is carried tranquilly to heaven by an angel.
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