Christ before Pilate 
 
 BY 
 
 MICHAEL MUNKACSY, 
 
 NOW BEING EXHIBITED 
 
 AT 
 
 9, CONDUIT STREET, REGENT STREET, W, 
 
 UNDER THE DIRECTION OF 
 
 MESSRS. THOS. AGNEW AND SONS. 
 
 APRIL, mi. 
 
" And when he was accused of the Chief Priests and Elders, 
 he answered nothing. Then said Pilate unto Him, ' Hearest 
 thou not how many things they witness against thee ? ' And 
 he answered him to never a word ; insomuch that the Governor 
 marvelled greatly." — St. Matthew, xxvii. 12. 
 
 "And Pilate answered and said again unto them, 'What will 
 ye then that I shall do unto him whom ye call the King of 
 the Jews?' And they cried out again, 'Crucify him.' Then 
 Pilate said unto them, * Why, what evil hath he done ? ' And 
 they cried out the more exceedingly, * Crucify him.' " — St. Mark, 
 XV. 12. 
 
 " Pilate therefore said unto him, * Art thou a king then ? ' Jesus 
 answered, ' Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I 
 born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear 
 witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my 
 voice.'" — St. John, xviii. 37. 
 
 From the Library of 
 Frank Simpson 
 
"CHRIST BEFORE PILATE." 
 
 The last picture by M. Munkacsy, " Christ before Pilate," is an 
 event in contemporary art, and will mark an almost unexpected 
 development in the artist's talent. 
 
 Hitherto subjects of such importance and on so large a scale had 
 not been attempted by M. Munkacsy. 
 
 This new work seems to reveal to us an unknown Munkacsy, who 
 has raised himself, by one stroke of his powerful wings, from the 
 charming though more modest regions of Elegy and popular Drama 
 to the most subUme heights of Epic Art; and there, in a subject 
 which has been a thousand times handled, he has shown his origi- 
 nality without endeavouring to do so, an effort which has often led 
 artists only to eccentricity. The secret of this originality may be 
 found in the fact that the artist has never ceased to be himself. He 
 has worked at his subject without preoccupying himself with what 
 others had done before him, and the result is the simple reflection of 
 his poetic, creative mind. 
 
 M. Munkacsy, in his change of subject, appears in another light — 
 he has developed a new style of colouring. He belongs to the 
 School of artists who love the effects of chiaro-oscuro, strongly de- 
 veloped light and shade ; but his colouring, which was condemned 
 as gloomy, over-laid with brown pigment, and as if spotted with 
 soot, now glows with all the richness of the Venetian palette ; from 
 Goya he has passed to Tintoretto. The impression produced by 
 Pilate recalls the emotions we feel when contemplating the grand 
 works at Venice of this impetuous master. 
 
 However, it must be owned that in the case of those who have 
 attentively followed the series of works produced by M. Munkacsy 
 
 B 2 
 
4 
 
 CHRIST BEFORE PILATE, 
 
 this development will be less unforeseen than would at first sight 
 appear. In his early works we already find the two master qualities 
 we admire in his latest production — Emotion^ and I will not say the 
 love of truths which we find amongst so many artists in the platonic 
 state, but the Poiver of being tn^e, which implies at the same time a 
 faculty of superior observation and great skill in execution. 
 
 In the picture which M. Munkacsy now exhibits, the central 
 point, the dominant idea of the composition, is the figure of Christ. 
 The eye is irresistibly drawn towards it, and yet this portion of the 
 work has been the principal subject of discussion. 
 
 As regards all the rest of the picture, I have heard but one general 
 expression of admiration. But the figure of Christ has been freely 
 criticized, and in a spirit alike free from prejudice or party bias. 
 
 We meet with free-thinkers, who argue that it falls short of the 
 ideal ; fervent Christians, who consider it sublime. My feelings are 
 entirely with the latter class ; as to the type of the figure, I believe it 
 to be admirable, but with a very slight reservation, which I will 
 explain further on. 
 
 Its very originality is the reason why it does not at once command 
 universal approval ; we have here a new conception of the person of 
 Christ ; it is unexpected, and admiration is preceded by surprise. 
 True masters do not trouble themselves to consider the ordinary re- 
 quirements of their public — they work in their own way, and raise 
 the public taste to their level. 
 
 I have heard the hackneyed remark repeated around me, " He is 
 not the divine Christ." 
 
 What does that matter? How ought divinity to be expressed in 
 a painting? Is it necessary to place a halo of glory and golden rays 
 over the head of Christ, as was done in the tradition of the Byzan- 
 tine School, adopted by the artists of the Middle Ages, and by the 
 image-makers of our own time ? 
 
 The Christ of Munkacsy is assuredly not one of those insipidly 
 beautiful Christs, with hair neatly combed, tall in stature, so dear to 
 the academical school, who believe they honour the divinity by 
 attributing to it the advantages and adornments coveted by human 
 vanity. Neither is he one of those enervated Christs, impregnated 
 with mystic sensuality, produced by artists who speculate on petty 
 devotion. 
 
 He is the Christ of the Gospel, who bears on his shoulders the 
 sufferings and the moral debt of humanity ; but who bears it with 
 the consciousness of his divine mission ; with sadness because of 
 
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 5 
 
 his love for us, but without hesitation and without weakness, 
 knowing that he is God's messenger. 
 
 He is gentle, but strong ; we feel that nothing can disturb him, 
 and that all the efforts of which human strength is capable will 
 shatter in pieces against his inflexible resolution. 
 
 If there is a shade of emotion in the look which he directs to- 
 ■ wards Pilate, we must attribute it to his pity for the soul of the 
 Roman magistrate, who does not yield without a struggle and 
 without regret ; who would be willing to obey the voice of his be- 
 seeching conscience, but allows himself to be intimidated by the 
 clamour of popular passion, and by the cowardly promptings of 
 his personal interest. 
 
 Jesus hears behind him the senselessly ferocious yells of the igno- 
 rant, vulgar herd who devote to death, without knowing him, the 
 Man who comes to save them, who demands for them their most 
 sacred rights. Jesus feels compassion for them, no doubt, but his 
 mind is not influenced thereby. He has already said to himself what 
 he will repeat upon the cross, " Lord, forgive them, for they know 
 not what they do." His attention is concentrated on this Roman 
 official, a good man at heart, but cowardly ; like so many function- 
 aries who would sell their soul to further their ambition. Jesus 
 knows what is passing ; he is unmoved by the blind crowd ; but it is 
 the foreseen issue of the struggle between good and evil, raging in 
 Pilate's breast, that so sorrowfully affects him. 
 
 The Christ of Munkacsy is spare ; his hollow, sunken eyes betray 
 suffering. He has already suffered the anguish of Gethsemane, the 
 insults and the evil treatment of the Pharisees. He is pale, as or- 
 dained by the Scriptures, " Livore ejus sanati sumiis" But his atti- 
 tude, dignitied though free from boastful assumption, his lightning 
 glance, prove that the soul has no concern with the sufferings of the 
 body. 
 
 In the front rank, to the left of Pilate, two Jews are seated, mag- 
 nificently dressed ; one of them follows with interest the events of 
 the drama which unrolls itself before him — he would like to know 
 the result. The other casts a searching glance on the figure of 
 Christ. He endeavours to understand him ; he seems to ask if this 
 accused man, despised, condemned by the populace, merits these 
 outrages and violence ; if he has not come, as he himself says, to 
 reveal the truth and the way. Absorbed in his reflections, he listens 
 with an absent air to the admirable public accuser, to the right of 
 Pilate, who, having supported his impeachment with an ardour that 
 
6 
 
 CHRIST BEFORE PILATE, 
 
 we can read in his figure, concludes his peroration by pointing to 
 the swaying multitude who are clamouring for the crucifixion of 
 Jesus. 
 
 How finely grouped is this multitude ! The various feelings which 
 agitate it are also well represented in the changing, but at the same 
 time, harmonized impressions produced on the mind by all these 
 figures, which, in the diversity of their expressions, all converge " 
 towards Jesus, whose calmness stands conspicuously forth in the 
 midst of the tumult ! 
 
 Some are urged on by fanaticism ; others are impelled by an 
 instinct of cruelty inherent in vulgar natures, an instinct which can 
 only be appeased by insults heaped on fresh victims ; to this class 
 belongs the young Jew, who sneeringly leans forward to contemplate 
 the anguish of Jesus. The greater number act in obedience to a 
 watchword, or through imitation ; these are not the least violent ; 
 look at the blackguard from Jerusalem, who bawls louder than the 
 rest, and probably without knowing why. 
 
 There are also the dilettanti of criminal trials, who have come to 
 seek distraction. They are discussing and trying the cause amongst 
 themselves as if it were a Hterary question. Behind the accuser one 
 of these lookers-on has raised himself up the better to view the scene, 
 which however offers to his palled taste but a mediocre attraction. He 
 foresees the denoument, which, moreover, very little concerns- him ; 
 but he wishes to know in what manner the knot of this dramatic 
 plot will be unravelled. 
 
 Near Christ, in a place of honour, is seated a rich Jewish banker, 
 with florid countenance, imbued with the sense of his own import- 
 ance, and the respect inspired by large fortunes. He looks with a 
 disdainful curiosity at this seditious man, audacious enough to con- 
 tend that all is not for the best in a world in which his millions 
 occupy so respectable a position. On the other side of Christ a 
 fierce soldier, full of life, turns aside with his pike the multitude who 
 throng round Jesus. 
 
 Prominent amongst these numerous characters and leaning against 
 a column, is a young woman who holds an infant in her arms. She 
 is charmingly beautiful ; her attitude has a grace worthy of Raphael ; 
 the calm and pure sweetness of her features contrasts with the tur- 
 bulence of the faces which surround her ; she is a Madonna, who has 
 strayed into the Sanhedrim. I am assured that in the artist's mind 
 she was intended to represent the dawning of Christianity. I wil- 
 lingly accept this interpretation : the Christian idea symbolized by a 
 
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 7 
 
 young woman ; the mind of woman is better fitted than that of man 
 to appreciate the subUmity of the Christian dogma, whose essence is 
 charity. It is woman who sows in the infant's mind the seed of the 
 divine idea. If the artist has depicted her so calm in the presence 
 of the sufferings of Christ, it is doubtless because she believes in his 
 promises \ she has faith ; and beyond the trials and humiliations of 
 the present, she catches a glimpse of the glory and triumph of the 
 future. 
 
 To refresh the spectator after all the emotions of this grand drama, 
 the artist shows him, through a window to the left of the picture, a 
 delicious landscape framed in the luminous Eastern sky, and which one 
 would say was painted by a Venetian. 
 
 The most admirable feature of M. Munkacsy's picture, and the 
 one which first strikes the spectator, is its composition : this is the 
 quality which distinguishes great painters; it is to design and 
 colouring what thought is to style. This quality, always so rare, 
 charms and affects us the more that it is nowadays so generally 
 absent ; under the pretext of copying nature, a mere dead semblance 
 is produced, and this defect is observable even in portraits, in which 
 the hfe and soul are most commonly deficient. The predominant 
 vice of contemporary art is the absence of conviction and ideas, 
 which renders impossible a true representation of nature, for Nature 
 is herself the representation of ideas of a superior order, with which 
 great masters are alone conversant. 
 
 M. Munkacsy does not content himself with painting the body — 
 he translates the soul, the mind, the sentiment which animates the 
 body — he creates a living picture. 
 
 M. Munkacsy realizes and is able to reproduce the beautiful, as is 
 proved by the young mother and some of the purely Semitic heads 
 depicted in his picture. 
 
 If the majority of his figures belong to vulgar types, and portray 
 the worst instincts of the Hebrew race, which is occasionally so 
 noblC; we must remember that he here depicts the populace of 
 Jerusalem, lawyers and office clerks, who, from an aesthetic point of 
 view, do not represent the elite of the population. 
 
 Some persons have expressed a preference for a figure with a back- 
 ground of red drapery suspended near the window in the picture 
 which preceded that now on view, in which we find the rough sketch 
 of this great work and studies of the principal heads which form part 
 of it. We may be permitted to hesitate between these two figures, 
 which, nevertheless, belong to the same family ; perhaps that by the 
 
8 
 
 CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 window better agrees with the traditional conception of the head of 
 Christ ; the one the artist has selected has, however, the incontest- 
 able merit of great power and great originality in a subject which has 
 so often tried the imagination of artists. — An Unpublished Study 
 by Dr. N. Gueneau de Mussy. 
 
 We are still under the influence of the powerful impression of what 
 we have seen. We still behold in our mind the majestic erect figure 
 of the Saviour, and the stern fanatical tribunal surrounded by a shout- 
 ing mob, and faint-hearted scribes. Munkacsy's master-piece has laid 
 a hold on our inner world of thought in placing before us a period of 
 the past of mighty import, and recalling to us that endless question 
 about the destmy and progress of man^ with all its dark and tormenting 
 doubts. 
 
 This latest picture of our ingenious countryman, which surpasses 
 all contemporaneous works of art, is just as masterly in its execu- 
 tion as its idea is profound and interesting. It seizes us as with 
 a hundred mighty arms. It awakens in our mind a profound enthu- 
 siasm for the incomparable sufferer, and a feeling of exasperation 
 against a community full of barbarousness, hypocrisy, and miserable 
 fanaticism. It proposes to us lofty questions about the worth of 
 morality, and the struggle of enlightened ideas against pusillanimous 
 custom. It opens the book of human characters, and shows to us in 
 forty different physiognomies, a scale rising from the man scarcely 
 above a brute, to the man with a soul sublime. It inspires us also 
 with real Christian charity, by choosing the greater part of these forty 
 persons, who represent a whole world, from the class of misery and 
 from the morally neglected, and announcing in eloquent language 
 the gospel of pessimism, which is still to-day crying for the Redeemer. 
 Only after the mind and the heart have been in some degree satiated 
 with the unfathomable contents of this painting, can full justice be 
 done to the artistic display of colours and forms. Then only do we 
 discover that the deep soul of the painting is clothed in a wonderful 
 covering, and that an inimitable skill has produced on the canvas, 
 as by magic, numberless figures, full of imperishable life. Then the 
 eye begins to be dazzled by the contrasting fulness of the most 
 
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 9 
 
 important figures ; then the gaze clings to the traits and contours of 
 every single and expressive face. Then we notice the grand power 
 of dramatic concentration, by which forty different heads, placed 
 in a vast arch, are all intensely directed towards the centre which 
 gives to that almost too complex fulness the interest of perfect 
 unity. 
 
 This admirable dramatic unity has been carried out to such 
 perfection, that the best stage manager would find in the picture an 
 unsurpassable model, if he were to represent the scene of Pilate on 
 the stage. It is the highest aim of a genuine artist to produce unity 
 in variety. Munkacsy has incontestably succeeded in this aim. 
 The civiHzation of the time when the Christian religion was founded, 
 is admirably reflected in the diverse figures, types, features, 
 garments, as well as in the architectural details. Also the manner 
 in wdiich the surrounding people are interested in Christ's fate, is 
 represented with just as many shades as there are figures. Not one 
 person resembles another, and not one expresses his emotion in 
 the same way as another. There is no imitation of a pattern, no 
 monotony; there is throughout a realistic i^idividuality^ combined 
 with ideal hartnony. 
 
 One figure — that of Pilate the judge — is meditating, with bent 
 head and fingers set as in argument, on Christ's words, apparently 
 endeavouring to solve the question : *' What is truth?" A second 
 figure — that of the accuser — is gesticulating demonstratively with 
 both hands, his head raised and mouth open. He expresses a 
 Pharisee's self-consciousness, a fanatic's resolute prejudice. Interest- 
 ing is a third figure— that of the scribe — perched high on a stool 
 against the marble w^all of the Praetorium, his arms crossed behind 
 his back, his uplifted head expressing, as it were, the curiosity of a 
 public chronicler, and throwing piercing and malicious glances 
 towards the defenceless sufferer. The rich Sadducee sits with provok- 
 ing defiance on the judge's bench, and with an air of satiety he rests 
 his hands on his fat legs. At the feet of the Governor two judges 
 are sitting ; one of them is looking, with the severity of a scholar of 
 the law, towards the disturber of faith ; the other glances with un- 
 steady looks towards the meditating procurator. The eye of a wild 
 fanatic, who has pushed himself close to the estrate of the President, 
 tries likewise to read the expression of Pilate's face. How fine are 
 the shades of distinction in another group of discussing grey-bearded 
 doctors of the law to the left of the tribunal. They are carefully 
 weighing the words of Christ : " I have come to bear witness unto 
 
lO 
 
 CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 the truth." This group, consisting of about three heads, is a 
 characteristic tableau in itself, speaking volumes. 
 
 We have by no means exhausted the great variety of delicate 
 shades in the figures grouped around the centre of interest. In the 
 midst of that narrow-souled fanatical crowd a young mother^ with a 
 lovely child on her arms, offers a pleasing contrast. This is the only 
 female figure in the picture, and the only one expressing lively com- 
 passion with the accused. This sympathetic look from a woman's 
 eye is a fine conception of the spirit of the Christian religion, in which 
 woman represents the ideal of charity, and which gave back to her 
 the dignity of freedom and placed innocent childhood under the 
 protection of man. We might call this detail of the woman a 
 masterly bit, in the painting, if Munkacsy needed such an inferior 
 praise. 
 
 Let us continue the series of inexhaustible gradations which mark 
 the interest displayed by the crowd. At the entrance of the 
 Praetorium we see the most striking figures. The Roman legionary 
 soldier, posted behind Christ, has to use all his energy in order to 
 make a barrier with his lance to keep back the mob. There is a 
 rogue who, with mouth wide open and arms extended to heaven, 
 cries his Crucifige ! " A fanatical shop-keeper has pressed near to 
 the column at the entrance, and with outstretched arms and 
 menacing forefinger seems almost to touch the head of Christ. A 
 street boy on the left has pressed quite near the sufferer, and, leaning 
 forward, is grinning with an inimitable grace right in the face of the 
 most sublime of men. Behind Christ stand the sophistical usurers, 
 demonstrating to each other the untimely zeal of the founder of 
 the religion. Fanatical believers climb on to the columns. There 
 are also one or two indifferent persons, who complete the 
 whole scale of interest which the historical event excited at the 
 time. 
 
 When we imagine we have already seen a suflicient number of 
 figures, and have impressed on our mind the most prominent 
 physiognomies, then we behold all at once quite a number of 
 new heads, peeping, as it were, from the deep obscurity of the 
 corridor, making the impression of a numerous crowd eager to 
 rush in. 
 
 The pen is not called upon to reproduce in succession all the 
 details which in the painting are found side by side. It is impossible 
 to describe the impression made by the painting as a whole after the 
 eye has examined the numerous details of Christ before Pilate.'* 
 
CHRTST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 II 
 
 Neither shall we expatiate on the masterly colouring by which the 
 dazzHng white is contrasted so strikingly with the blue and red-brown, 
 and by which the blue sky smiles symbolically, through the opened 
 gates of the court, on Christ, who himself seems to be oppressed by 
 the gloomy atmosphere. Nor shall we recount the thousand 
 triumphs of simply mechanical skill, which make this, even from a 
 merely technical standpoint, a painting unequalled in modern times. 
 In this regard Munkacsy has been compared with Rembrandt, with 
 Raphael — in one word, with the greatest painters of all times. We 
 shall leave it to another pen to treat of these subtle mysteries 
 of art. 
 
 What has induced us to take pen in hand, after having accounted 
 to ourselves in some measure for the mighty effect of this painting, 
 is the ideal boldness of its moral conception as it is particularly 
 expressed in the chief figure. 
 
 A noble human form, tall and erect, the body and limbs almost 
 concealed by a plain, flowing, white garment, the head, with long 
 waving curls falling down upon the shoulders, the neck, the breast, 
 the bound hands, and part of one foot, this is all we see of Christ. 
 But what depth and fulness even in this little ! How noble the 
 face, with its high and finely-delineated forehead ! And what an 
 inimitably gentle and yet inflexibly reproachful look in the eye ! The 
 whole Christ is in this eye — Munkacsy's whole Christ. It is not the 
 eye of an enthusiast superhumanly enlarged and bathed in heavenly 
 bliss. No, it is a real human eye, belonging to a man, in which the 
 utmost mildness of humanity is blended with the greatest severity of 
 justice. 
 
 We think we may safely assert that most of those who look at the 
 picture, are, as it were, spell-bound by that eye. And yet it is not 
 even directed towards us, but it is compassionate, and at the same 
 time the majestic look rests upon Pilate, the representative of earthly 
 justice, the inflexible procurator of the Roman E^mpire. 
 
 How we long to penetrate into the innermost depth of this eye. 
 But this being impossible, let us read the profound mysteries of the 
 other features of the face. A deeply meditating, decisive character is 
 indicated by that line, which runs from the eye to the point of the 
 chin ; and we are awed by an expression of indomitable energy, pro- 
 duced by untold suffering. We see the small, firmly compressed 
 mouth, the fine nose, swelled with indignation. These features win 
 us to the cause of the Messiah, who fights the great battle of humanity 
 and leads to eternal triumph. The nobility of the eye, the features 
 
12 
 
 CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 full of soul and energy, captivate us irresistibly. We are animated 
 by a feeling of entire confidence in the leader, whose cause must be 
 victorious, in spite of the cries of the mob. Since the form is entirely 
 human, our confidence is still increased. We have before us the 
 most beautiful type of man imaginable, a noble, vigorous, soul-per- 
 vaded form, akin to the classical ideal of the Apollo of the Belvedere 
 Gallery, but different, in that his Christ expresses at the same time 
 the whole modern world of thought and moral struggle. 
 
 Munkacsy's Christ proclaims the whole ideal of humanity, the power 
 to suffer and to act, at the same time mildness united with justice. 
 Munkacsy's Christ is the symbol of humanity fighting against all 
 the Pilates of despotism, against hypocritical and fanatical Phari- 
 sees, against the " Crucify him " of the populace benighted in 
 ignorance. 
 
 It is a modern Christ without a halo, without artificial exaltation, 
 without a celestial background. Out of Munkacsy's Christ speaks 
 the majesty of humanity in its st7'u<^gle for inoral progress. 
 
 Upon this ideal height the confessors of all religions meet, yea, 
 even the opponents of religion. Munkacsy has succeeded in findmg 
 in the Catholic High Church as unconditional admirers as among the 
 leaders of modern rationalism, who are delighted to recognise in 
 this picture a Christ in the modern sense, the Christ of Strauss and 
 Renan. Is this not a new, perhaps unforeseen triumph of our 
 countryman's art, who caused the name of his people to shine 
 suddenly among the brightest of modern civilisation ? 
 
 The form of Christ is still floating before my mind, after standing 
 before it a long time, plunged in deep thought. I still behold its 
 white robe reaching down to the ground, and allowing only a part of 
 one foot to be seen, as if the artist wanted to convince us that this 
 unique historical person stands upon solid earth. I see the noble face 
 adorned with bright waving locks and beard, and supported by a 
 slender neck. I see the energetic muscles of that neck protruding 
 and swelling the half-bared arched breast of the Valiant of the Lord. 
 The hands are bound with ropes, an almost supernatural calm per- 
 vading the form, and contrasting strangely with the noisy fanatical 
 turmoil all around. I see the ropes, loosened as if by invisible 
 hands, and Christ still remaining immovable, whilst the bystanders 
 gesticulate with arms and hands. The calm reveals a new world in 
 the midst of the decay of the tyrannical and voluptuous Roman 
 Empire. It is the calm of the good man, certain of victory, the in- 
 carnate optimism of history, which will certainly break all chains, and 
 
establish the kingdom of Uberty and Hght, of love and justice in the 
 midst of despotism, pharisaism, misery, and darkness. — The 
 Pester Lloyd," February i()tk, 1882. 
 
 Munkacsy's latest painting had been expected in Vienna with 
 unusual anxiety, and in fact there were reasons enough for such 
 anxiety. Munkacsy is a remarkable and interesting artist, and each 
 of his new creations an event of great importance in the field of 
 modern art. In the last of his previous works, " Milton and his 
 Daughters," he had executed such a majestic conception, so far sur- 
 passing his preceding productions, excellent as they were, that our 
 curiosity was natural and fully justified when asking, how he could 
 maintain in his new artistic creation, the position he had acquired by 
 the preceding one, which had caused such universal surprise and 
 admiration. To all this must be added the sceptical expectation as 
 to how he had handled a religious subject, which, according to all 
 appearance and calculation, was so strange to him ; and finally the 
 astounding newspaper reports from Paris, the news of the fabulous 
 price paid for the picture, in short everything fit to excite public 
 curiosity, even if we take into account the fact that these sensational 
 reports may, to some extent, have had their source in the calculating 
 interest of dealers in works of art. 
 
 Well, the painting is now here. We have seen the wonder with 
 our own bodily eyes, and we do not hesitate to exclaim : Yes, it is 
 a wonder, a marvellous work of modern art, which hardly has its 
 equal ! " 
 
 Whatever may have been said of the painting in order to extol it, 
 there has not been too much said. Without any reservation or 
 restraint whatever, we subscribe to everything that has been written 
 to the glory of the painting and of its creator. 
 
 Meissonier, the greatest among the living French artists, is said to 
 have remarked that, since Rembrandt's " Ronde de Nuit," no other 
 painting of such importance has been produced as that of the 
 Hungarian joiner-journeyman who has left his workshop. 
 
 We do not know whether Meissonier has really said this ; but, 
 
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 if we consult our own sensations when standing before the painting, 
 we are of the opinion that he might have spoken so, and that such a 
 sentence at least is very plausible. One thing at least is certain, 
 that the beholder of the painting is immediately carried away from 
 the present by the power of genius, not only on account of the 
 lively exhibition of the scene which makes us rather live with the 
 historical fact, than simply see it in the picture, but also by the 
 critical study of the work of art, to which we are instigated. 
 
 We have no scale of proportion by which to compare this 
 painting with any other work of art. Another colossal biblical 
 painting of Piloty was exhibited lately in Vienna. But what fright- 
 ful dissonance is produced by the mere attempt to compare these 
 two paintings in our mind. Before Munkacsy's painting we imme- 
 diately discard all modern art, because we should be greatly per- 
 plexed if we had to name a companion worthy of it. 
 
 The painting is not an expression of any particular school, neither 
 of the Dusseldorf nor of the Munich, nor of the French school. It 
 is simply and absolutely real, grave, and grand art, detached from all 
 accessories and peculiarities of any group of artists on either side of 
 the Rhine. Munkacsy stands alone with his " Christ before Pilate," 
 on a solitary, lofty height, in the solitude of kings. 
 
 We feel ourselves removed from the present because, when 
 standing before the picture, we immediately and involuntarily are 
 dreaming of the great old masters. It is with these that we associate 
 the master of this painting ; with them we compare him, without 
 thinking, however, of any particular one of them. 
 
 Simplicity is a sure mark of the real classic. In Munkacsy's 
 picture the arrangement is simple and natural, as if it could not be 
 otherwise. Pilate sits in an open hall on an elevated seat. Next to 
 him the Pharisees and Scribes have posted themselves. At a con- 
 venient distance from him stands Christ with fettered hands, raising 
 freely his noble, pale face, and listening to the accusation which a 
 Pharisee is just pronouncing against him. The fanatical crowd press 
 about the bright form of the Saviour, and are kept back by the 
 Roman warrior with his horizontally extended spear, Pilate hears 
 the accusation, and ruminates over it in his thought ; he seems to 
 be assisted in his cogitation by his demonstrating half-lifted hand. 
 One can almost see through his forehead, how the thoughts are 
 labouring there. There is not one figure in the painting whose 
 character and impressions at that excited moment are not written in 
 its brows. Here is the Pharisee, sitting there in his broad, monu- 
 
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 15 
 
 mental insolence, and betraying a malicious and obstinate stupidity, 
 that can never be rooted up. There is the woman reflecting eternal 
 love and charity, with her child on her arm, looking compassionately 
 through the crowd on the persecuted and tormented Saviour. Here 
 is the raging proletarian, and there the indifferent, or at most, 
 curious, looker-on ; here the doubting thinker, and there the repre- 
 sentative of obdurate narrow-mindedness. 
 
 Munkacsy has painted no halo around Christ, he has added 
 nothing to the scene, that might not have actually existed, trait for 
 trait. He has not attempted to paint a supernatural being, a 
 divinity ; Christ appears before the Court as a suffering, tormented 
 man, who resists every torture by the power of mind and of convic- 
 tions. Thus Munkacsy has painted him as a suffering man, and a 
 noble mind. It was to be expected that he would not copy the 
 current type. But still it is not so far removed from the type 
 sanctioned by tradition as to make his conception appear strange, 
 and in consequence painful. 
 
 Munkacsy has already gained with his " Milton " the highest 
 honours that modern criticism could confer ; and now the question 
 might arise, in what relation this new painting stands to the last one, 
 and whether — as there are certain limits drawn for human skill — his 
 Christ " really marks an immense progress, when compared with 
 that splendid painting, being, according to all appearance, placed so 
 much higher. The answer is very simple : " Milton," indeed, is a 
 wonderful, a perfect work, beyond which progress is hardly imagin- 
 able. Above all, criticism would be embarrassed if it had to say in 
 which direction progress might be made. The subject in the paint- 
 ing has been completely exhausted, and the problem fully solved ; 
 the same is the case with " Christ before Pilate," and the greater and 
 mightier the task was in the latter painting, the grander the result 
 has proved. 
 
 Munkacsy is still young ; he has still a long road before him. 
 We do not and cannot know, with what works he may still enrich 
 the world, but after his latest work we do not hesitate to declare 
 that, if an adverse fate should snatch him to-day from our midst, one 
 of the greatest artists of all times would be lost in him. Perhaps 
 such a word sounds more enthusiastic than careful, prudent 
 criticism should utter, for with such imprudently strong expression 
 it may lose its credit or render itself suspicious. Let the word be 
 ascribed to the mighty first impression, but altogether we do not 
 make any apology for it ; for, although it has been uttered out of 
 
1 6 CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 first deep and glad enthusiasm, it is, nevertheless, the expression of 
 an honest conviction. — The Neue Illustrirte Zeitung." 
 
 No matter in what mood or in what light we turn to the latest 
 great work of Michael Munkacsy, the first and genuine impression 
 always rests, although doubts may have arisen in our mind. 
 
 This impression is that we have here a picture of uncommon 
 merit, and that a great artist has produced it. There it is before us, 
 in its overwhelming force, testifying a will, a skill, that silences all 
 our doubts, and paralyses our criticisms. We are immediately capti- 
 vated by the simple representation of the action, by the charm of 
 sober colours, by the skilful application of the effects of light. 
 
 Even should we lose ourselves for a moment among the vast 
 riches of detail in this mass of figures and heads, we should soon find 
 again the impression of harmony which is expressed by the whole. 
 Only when the picture is removed from our sight, do we regain our 
 full liberty ; only then we can pursue the course of ideas which have 
 been roused by the sight of the painting ; then only the judgment is 
 freed from the charm of contemplation. 
 
 It is always well to ask ourselves in the presence of a work of art, 
 what were the real intentions of the artist ? What did Munkacsy in- 
 tend with his painting ? He does not guide us into church ; edifi- 
 cation, in the church sense of the word, was not his intention. He 
 has painted no halo ; he has rather put the halo in the head of the 
 principal figure, as it were, and has illuminated that head from 
 within. 
 
 With Munkacsy we are entirely upon worldly ground ; and what 
 he painted is an historical event, or at least conceived as such. It 
 is, therefore, no religious painting, awakening thoughts of the mar- 
 vellous ; but an historical scene, where we are impressed by the rule 
 of historical powers. Thus, we have not before us " (Jhrist, the 
 Lord's Anointed," the Son of God, who said of himself, " Before 
 Abraham was, I am ; " but Jesus of Nazareth, the carpenter's son. 
 Once Munkacsy was asked what conception he had of the hero of 
 his painting. " 1 take him as a good, intelligent man," he answered, 
 
CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 17 
 
 with the frankness of a Magyar to the backbone. This worldly con- 
 ception has induced him to give to his painting a complete sem- 
 blance of reality. A faithful representation of Jewish character aided 
 him greatly in his undertaking. There could be no lack of models ; 
 for the Jews continue to live as a memory of their past. They are 
 to-day as real as when they made bricks in Egypt, or hung their 
 harps upon the willows of Babylon. With true artistic delight, 
 Munkacsy took up this remarkable antiquity of a nation, and with 
 an artist's love he studiously represented its various types, from the 
 noblest to the basest. He did justice to himself as a painter of cha- 
 racter, as well as a mere colourist who rejoices in lively tints. Jewish 
 society is revealed to us as in an open book. 
 
 Although we recognize a family likeness in the different features, 
 we are nevertheless struck with the variety of expressions ; the dif- 
 ference of character and of opinion is indicated in the least particles 
 of the persons. 
 
 A peculiar agitation reigns around the judgment-seat of Pilate. 
 The assembly would fain have their own opinion corroborated from 
 the mouth of the Roman procurator \ they would force him, morally, 
 were it in their power, to accept their views. 
 
 The accuser stands there before Pilate, haughty, proud, with ener- 
 getically raised arms. Not far from him, a little nearer to the 
 accused, sits a hypocritical self-satisfied person, with extended legs, 
 and his hands upon his thighs. Between these two, a little in the 
 back-ground, a few cunning old Hebrews are sitting, discussing in a 
 lively manner the pros and cons, and counting their views on their 
 fingers' ends. Now and then another crafty head emerges from the 
 dusky scene. A youth, anything but prepossessing, pushes himself 
 with maUcious curiosity towards the accused. Behind the latter, an 
 ugly emaciated individual cries, with all his might, and with his arms 
 stretched up high, his " Crucify him," just as he is pushed back by 
 the lance of a Roman soldier. 
 
 Jesus, the noblest of Jews — humanly speaking — is the centre of all 
 this commotion of bodies and minds. His countrymen have dragged 
 him before the judgment-seat of the procurator. His hands are tied. 
 There he stands, motionless, in his long white garment, heedless of 
 the tumult around him. Jesus has just finished the words, " To this 
 end was I born, and for this cause I came into the world, that I 
 should bear witness to the truth." Pilate, on the other hand, with 
 downcast eyes and agitated fingers, is just making strong efforts to 
 utter his What is truth ? " He finds no guilt in the man. Can it 
 
 c 
 
i8 
 
 CHRIST BEFORE PILATE. 
 
 be that Pilate has been softened under woman's influence ? We read 
 in the first Gospel, "When Pilate sate down in the judgment-seat, 
 his wife sent unto him, saying, Have nothing to do with this just 
 man, for I have suffered much this day in a dream because of him." 
 But in an artistic point of view this is of little import, for we cannot 
 look into the innermost of the soul. 
 
 As a complete counterpart, Jesus stands before Pilate. Where 
 Pilate doubts, Jesus believes. Easy excitability and fixed tenacity 
 are expressed in the fair head, on which the traces of profound 
 thinking are marked. A slight irony about the mouth seems to say 
 that all the powers of the world could not overcome him. 
 
 Such are, in a few outlines, the contents of the picture. In all 
 those details which we have discussed, we have found the artist, 
 but not yet the entire artist. It is not only the means employed 
 that constitute the artist. Above all, Munkacsy is a colourist. 
 He IS a colourist even in his first sketch ; and light and colour 
 are his media for the expression of his idea. But here we must 
 not think of a variegation of colour ; that can be bought at the 
 paint-shop. Munkacsy is not at all variegated, nor loud. Even 
 in his brightest colour, the white, he strikes a low note, which 
 permits him to produce colouristic effects, by rising gradually from 
 that depth, and remaining within the limits of a rather diversified 
 than large scale. Even the white is an effective colour with him. 
 Only see, how by contrasting it with darker shades, or making them 
 penetrate it, he produces the greatest effect on the painting. 
 
 Pilate, Jesus,, and half of the noisy mob are dressed in white ; 
 and still how they seem to be bathed in colours ! On the right 
 of the picture, brown has been employed, rising to red, and de- 
 scending to the limit of black. On both sides of the composition 
 are broad surfaces of bright blue, corresponding with the colour of 
 the sky, and producing a beautiful equihbrium of colour. — Neue 
 Freie Presse, February 12, 1882.