כרב, plural כרבים. It appears, from Gen. iii, 29, that this is a name given to angels; but whether it is the name of a distinct class of celestials, or designates the same order as the seraphim, we have no means of determining. But the term _cherubim_ generally signifies those figures which Moses was commanded to make and place at each end of the mercy seat, or propitiatory, and which covered the ark with expanded wings in the most holy place of the Jewish tabernacle and temple. See Exodus xxv, 18, 19. The original meaning of the term, and the shape or form of these, any farther than that they were _alata animata_, “winged creatures,” is not certainly known. The word in Hebrew is sometimes taken for a calf or ox; and Ezekiel, x, 14, sets down the face of a cherub as synonymous to the face of an ox. The word _cherub_, in Syriac and Chaldee, signifies to till or plough, which is the proper work of oxen. _Cherub_ also signifies strong and powerful. Grotius says they were figures much like that of a calf; and Bochart, likewise, thinks that they were more like the figure of an ox than any thing beside; and Spencer is of the same mind. But Josephus says they were extraordinary creatures of a figure unknown to mankind. The opinion of most critics, taken, it seems, from Ezek. i, 9, 10, is, that they were figures composed of parts of various creatures; as a man, a lion, an ox, an eagle. But certainly we have no decided proof that the figures placed in the holy of holies, in the tabernacle, were of the same form with those described by Ezekiel. The contrary, indeed, seems rather indicated, because they looked _down_ upon the mercy seat, which is an attribute not well adapted to a four-faced creature, like the emblematical cherubim seen by Ezekiel. The cherubim of the ...sanctuary were two in number; one at each end of the mercy seat; which, with the ark, was placed exactly in the middle, between the north and south sides of the tabernacle. It was here that atonement was made, and that God was rendered propitious by the high priest sprinkling the blood upon and before the mercy seat, Lev. xvi, 14, 15. Here the glory of God appeared, and here he met his high priest, and by him his people, and from hence he gave forth his oracles; whence the whole holy place was called דביר, _the oracle_. These cherubim, it must be observed, had feet whereon they stood, 2 Chron. iii, 13; and their feet were joined, in one continued beaten work, to the ends of the mercy seat which covered the ark: so that they were wholly over or above it. Those in the tabernacle were of beaten gold, being but of small dimensions, Exod. xxv, 18; but those in the temple of Solomon were made of the wood of the olive tree overlaid with gold; for they were very large, extending their wings to the whole breadth of the oracle, which was twenty cubits, 1 Kings vi, 23–28; 2 Chron. iii, 10–13. They are called “cherubim of glory,” not merely or chiefly on account of the matter or formation of them, but because they had the glory of God, or the glorious symbol of his presence, “the Shekinah,” resting between them. As this glory abode in the inward tabernacle, and as the figures of the cherubim represented the angels who surround the manifestation of the divine presence in the world above, that tabernacle was rendered a fit image of the court of heaven, in which light it is considered every where in the Epistle to the Hebrews. See chapters iv, 14; viii, 1; ix, 8, 9, 23, 24; xii, 22, 23. The cherubim, it is true, have been considered by the disciples of Mr. Hutchinson as designed emblems of Jehovah himself, or rather of the Trinity of Persons in the Godhead, with man taken into the divine essence. But that God, who is a pure Spirit, without parts or passions, perfectly separate and remote from all matter, should command Moses to make material and visible images or emblematical representations of himself, is utterly improbable: especially, considering that he had repeatedly, expressly, and solemnly forbidden every thing of this kind in the second commandment of the moral law, delivered from Mount Sinai, amidst thunder and lightning, “blackness, darkness, and tempest,” pronouncing with an audible and awful voice, while “the whole mount quaked greatly, and the sound of the trumpet waxed louder and louder, Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, nor the likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the water under the earth.” Hence the solemn caution of Moses, Deut. iv, 15, &c: “Take ye good heed unto yourselves, (for ye saw no manner of similitude on the day the Lord spake unto you in Horeb out of the midst of the fire,) lest ye corrupt yourselves, and make you a graven image, the similitude of any figure, the likeness of male or female, of any beast that is on the earth, of any winged fowl that flieth in the air, of any thing that creepeth on the ground, of any fish that is in the waters.” Hence God’s demand by his prophet: “To what will ye liken me, or shall I be equal, saith the Holy One?” And hence the censure of the inspired penman, Psalm cvi, 20: “They changed their glory into the similitude of an ox that eateth grass.” Add to this, that in most or all of the places where the cherubim are mentioned in the Scriptures, God is expressly distinguished from them. Thus, “He,” the Lord, “placed at the east of the garden cherubim, and a flaming sword,” Gen. iii, 24. “He rode on a cherub and did fly,” Psalm xviii, 10. “He sitteth between the cherubim,” Psalm xcix, 1. “He dwelleth between the cherubim,” Psalm lxxx, 1. We also read of “the glory of the God of Israel going up, from the cherub whereupon he was, to the threshold of the house,” Ezek. ix, 3. And again, “The glory of the Lord went up from the cherub, and the court was full of the brightness of the Lord’s glory,” Ezek. x, 4. And again, “The glory of the Lord departed from off the threshold, and stood over the cherubim,” Ezek. x, 18. In all these passages the glory of the Lord, that is, the Shekinah, the glorious symbol of his presence, is distinguished from the cherubim; and not the least intimation is given in these passages, or any others, of the Scripture, that the cherubim were images or emblematical representations of him. Mr. Parkhurst’s laborious effort to establish Mr. Hutchinson’s opinion on the subject of the cherubim, in his Hebrew Lexicon, _sub voce_, is so obviously fanciful and contradictory, that few will be converted to this strange opinion. It seems much more probable that, as most eminent divines have supposed, the cherubim represented the angels who surround the divine presence in heaven. Accordingly, they had their faces turned toward the mercy seat, where God was supposed to dwell, whose glory the angels in heaven always behold, and upon which their eyes are continually fixed; as they are also upon Christ, the true propitiatory, which mystery of redemption they “desire,” St. Peter tells us, “to look into,” 1 Peter i, 12: a circumstance evidently signified by the faces of the cherubim being turned inward, and their eyes fixed on the mercy seat. We may here also observe that, allowing St. Peter in this passage to allude to the cherubic figures, which, from his mode of expression, can scarcely be doubted, this amounts to a strong presumption that the cherubim represented, not so much one order, as “the angels” in general, all of whom are said to “desire to look into” the subjects of human redemption, and to all whose orders, “the principalities and powers in heavenly places, the manifold wisdom of God is made known by the church.” In Ezekiel, the cherubic figures are evidently connected with the dispensations of providence; and they have therefore appropriate forms, emblematical of the strength, wisdom, swiftness, and constancy, with which the holy angels minister in carrying on God’s designs: but in the sanctuary they are connected with the administration of grace; and they are rather adoring beholders, than actors, and probably appeared under forms more simple. As to the living creatures, improperly rendered “beasts” in our translation, Rev. iv, 7, some think them a hieroglyphical representation, not of the qualities of angels, but of those of real Christians; especially of those in the suffering and active periods of the church. The first a lion, signifying their undaunted courage, manifested in meeting with confidence the greatest sufferings; the second a calf or ox, emblematical of unwearied patience; the third with the face of a man representing prudence and compassion; the fourth a flying eagle, signifying activity and vigour. The four qualities thus emblematically set forth in these four living creatures, namely, undaunted courage, unwearied patience under sufferings, prudence united with kindness, and vigorous activity, are found, more or less, in the true members of Christ’s church in every age and nation. But others have imagined that this representation might be intended to intimate also that these qualities would especially prevail in succeeding ages of the church, in the order in which they are here placed: that is, that in the first age true Christians would be eminent for the courage, fortitude, and success, wherewith they should spread the Gospel; that in the next age they would manifest remarkable patience in bearing persecution, when they should be “killed all the day,” like calves or oxen appointed for the slaughter; that in the subsequent age or ages, when the storms of persecution were blown over, and Christianity was generally spread through the whole Roman empire, knowledge and wisdom, piety and virtue, should increase, and the church should wear the face of a man, and excel in prudence, humanity, love, and good works; and that in ages still later, being reformed from various corruptions in doctrine and practice, and full of vigour and activity, it should carry the Gospel, as upon the wings of a flying eagle, to the remotest nations under heaven, “to every kindred, and tongue, and people.” This is a thought which deserves some consideration. The four great monarchies of the earth had their prophetic emblems, taken both from metals and from beasts and birds; and it is not unreasonable to look for prophetic emblems of the one kingdom of Christ, in its varied and successive states. Perhaps, however, the most reasonable conclusion is, that, like the “living creatures” in the vision of Ezekiel, they are emblematical of the ministrations of angels in what pertains to those providential events which more particularly concern the church.
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CHERUBIM (plural of cherub) were “celestial genii,·’ and, in Μ. de Saulcy’s opinion, little else can be positively affirmed (Histoire de l ’ art judaïque, p. 24). Fresh light has, however, recently been thrown upon them from the cuneiform inscriptions, and we are no longer reduced to admit that “le vaste champ des hypothèses restera toujours ouvert.” According to the Old Testament, the cherub united the functions of bearer and guardian of deity; or rather, perhaps, there was a divergence in the popular beliefs on this subject. In Ps. xviii. 10, 2 Sam. xxii. 11 Yahweh (the so called Jehovah) is described as “riding upon a cherub,” and in the parallel line as “swooping,” the word applied in Deut. xxviii. 49 and elsewhere to the flight of the eagle. Putting the two phrases together, we may conclude that, according to one version of the myth— whether fully believed in or not by the Psalmist need not here be discussed—the cherub was either an eagle or a quadruped with eagle’s wings. This result would seem to justify connecting the word with the Assyrian kurubu, a synonym of kurukku or karakkυ. the “circling” bird, i.e., according to Friedrich Delitzsch, the vulture. On the other hand, the prophet Ezekiel xxviii. 13-16, though agreeing with the Psalmist in mentioning but one cherub, describes him as “walking in the midst of stones of fire” (i.e., thunderbolts), and as extending his wings over “the holy mountain of Elohim,” in other words, as the attendant and guard rather than as the bearer of deity. And in the fuller account of Paradise in Genesis “the cherubim” (i.e., the entire band of cherubs) are stationed “with (or near) the blade of the turning sword” (this, like the “tree of life,” has a Babylonian analogue, and ...is a mythic phrase meaning the lightning,—see references below) “to guard the way to the tree of life” (Gen. iii. 24). Now, according to a talismanic inscription copied by Lenormant, kirubu is a synonym for the steer-god, whose winged imago filled the place of guardian at the entrance of the Assyrian palaces. And in the fantastic description of Ezekiel penned by the River Chebar, one of the four faces of a cherub was that of an ox (Ezek. i. 10, after which the corrupt passage in x. 14, must, in spite of Lenormant, be corrected). We should, therefore, connect the word cherub primarily with the Assyrian kirubu, but also, as proposed above, with kumιbu. The two forms seem to be co-ordinate and expressive of some quality common to the king of birds and the colossal steer. Their etymology is altogether uncertain, and possibly to be sought for (as Mr Sayce has suggested) outside the sphere of Semitism. Partial paraUels to the cherubim in non-Semitic mythologies are not uncommon, but are mostly deceptive. The most complete one is that of the winged γpvττd (a secondary form of kerubim), who not only watched over the treasures of the gods (cf. Herod, iv. 13, 116), but were also the bearers of deity, if at least Plutarch and Eustathius may be followed in identifying the τeτpaσκeλη<s οιωνός of Aesch. Prom. 395 with the griffin (see Hermann, ad loc.) Probably the griffin was imagined under more than one form. This was certainly the case with the Hebrew cherub, as appears not only from the passages referred to above, but from the inconsistencies of the single prophet Ezekiel (cf. i. 6, xli. 18). The significance of the mythical cherubim has been well pointed out by C. P. Tiele. They are probably the masses of clouds, which seem to guard the portals of the sky, and on which the sun-god appears to issue forth at break of day. This will account for the expressions used of the cherubim both of the heavenly and of the earthly “habitation” of Yahweh, expressions taken up by the Biblical writers from the folklore of their times.
For the Assyrian authorities, see Schrader, Jenaer Litteratur∙ zeitung, 1874, p. 218; Delitzsch (the younger), Assyrische Studien, pp. 107, 108; and for the Babylonian lightning-myth, Lenormant, Birose, p. 138 ; Records of the Past, vol. iii. pp. 127-129. Compare also Herder, Werke, vol. xxxiii. (Geist der Ebraïschen Poesie), pp. 168-180; Ewald, Antiquities of Israel, Eng. transi., p. 123; Riebm, in Theologische Studien und Kritiken, 1871; Tiele, Vergelijkende geschiedenis der oude godsdiensten, vol. i. p. 366; and F. W. Farrar in Kittos Cyclopaedia of Biblical Literature, art. “Cherubim. ’
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CHERUBINI, Maria Luigi Zenobio Carlo Salvatore (1760-1842), one of the greatest musical composers of modern times, was born at Florence, 14th September 1760. His father was accompanyist (moestro al cembalo) at the Pergola theatre, and himself guided the first musical education of his son, whose talent began to evince itself at a very early period. “I commenced learning music,” Cherubini says of himself, “at six years, composition at nine; the former I was taught by my father, the latter by Bartholomew Felici and his son Alexander.” Italian music at that time was at a low ebb. The popular composers of opera seria chiefly aimed at inventing pleasing tunes and fioriture for the vocal display of the singers; the dignity and grandeur of the old Italian school were all but lost. To imbue himself with these great traditions of the past was the chief aim of young Cherubini’s ambition, and for that purpose he went in 1777 to Bologna, where for four years he studied under Joseph Sarti, a well-known composer and theorist of the time, and himself the pupil of the celebrated Padre Martini, one of the greatest contrapuntists Italy has produced. It was in this school that Cherubini laid the foundation of that deep knowledge of his art which gives to all his works the impress of perfect mastership. It was also under Sarti’s guidance that he made his first attempts at dramatic composition. They were preceded, however, by a mass written at the age of thirteen, and various other sacred compositions. Sarti was the composer of numerous operas, amongst which Le Nozze di Donina may be mentioned as the most successful one. It now became Cherubini’s task to supply the music for the minor characters in his master’s dramatic works, an excellent way of gaining versatility of style ...and resource, turned to full account by the young composer. His first independent work was called Quinto Fabio, an opera seria, in three acts, first performed in 1780, and soon followed by Armida (1782), Adriano in Siria (same year), and several other works of a similar kind. At this time of his life his artistic individuality was forming gradually; but as yet he had not emerged from the purely imitative stage of production. Absolute artistic value these juvenile works do not possess, but they tended to prepare Cherubini for greater things, and in the meantime secured him a dignified position amongst contemporary composers. In 1784 he was asked to write two works for the Italian opera in London, one of which, Lafinta ρrincipessa, was favourably received, while the other, Giulio Sabino, was “murdered” by the critics, to use the emphatic expression of a contemporary witness. In 1786 he left London, whither he had gone to be present at the production of his operas, and went to Paris. After a short stay in Italy he took up his permanent residence iu the latter city.
Cherubini may be cited as a striking instance of the amalgamating power inherent in the French type of national culture; Spontini, Meyerbeer, and to some extent Gluck, submitted to the same spell. With the last-mentioned master Cherubini shares the grand declamatory pathos, the classic dignity which characterizes the Augustan age of French tragedy. A work like Cherubini’s M'edée is imbued with the same elevation of pathos which in Corneille’s greatest tragedies makes us forget the stilted affectations of his heroes and heroines. The first opera composed by Cherubini in France is called Demophoon, words by Marmontel. Its merits were appreciated by connoisseurs, but it was not a popular success. This, however, was achieved in the most brilliant manner by Cherubini’s next opera, Lodoislca (1791), which opens the series of great dramatic works belonging to the composer’s second period. The representative production of this period is Médxe, already alluded to. The main characteristics of the composer’s style have also been briefly touched upon. From a mere musical point of view a bold though always strictly logical sequence of harmonies, a rich vein of melodious developments, and great brilliancy and originality of instrumental effects ought to be added.
By the production of Médée (1797) the composer’s reputation was firmly established. All Paris was in rapturous admiration of his genius, with one exception— Napoleon Bonaparte. The young victorious general aspired to musical amateurship, and loved to speak authoritatively on that as on most other subjects. But it was not in Cherubini’s character to bow to any man, however great, in matters artistic. Cherubini’s repeated remonstrances against Napoleon’s exaggerated enthusiasm for Paesiello, Zingarelli, and other ephemeral composers culminated in the blunt repartee,—“Citoyen-général, I perceive that you love only that music which does not prevent you from thinking of your politics.” The emperor remembered the affront offered to the citizen-general, and the appointment of Imperial chapelmaster was given to Lesueur, in spite of the Italian composer’s superior merits. But Cherubini does not seem to have suffered much under this disappointment. Two works replete with serenest joy owe their origin to the period alluded to— Anacreon (1803) and Les deux Journées (1804). The last-mentioned work is Cherubini’s masterpiece of comic opera. In it we admire the grace and true gaieté de coeur, which have made the comic opera of France deservedly famous amongst civilized nations. The libretto of Les deux Journées, although clever and piquant, does not offer many opportunities for musical expansion, the action, as is usual in French comic opera, being to a great extent carried on in spoken dialogue. But Cherubini has succeeded in delineating with a few graphic touches the import of his characters and situations. A peasant chorus in the third act, a Savoyard’s song, and the couplets of Micheli the jovial water-carrier, are insurpassable specimens of their genre, equal in melodious beauty and grace to anything that French composers have produced in these forms of art. Cherubini, indeed, ranks with the greatest masters of the French school,—with Gretry, Dalayrac, Auber, and Boieldieu, all of whom he infinitely surpasses as far as musical workmanship is concerned.
In 1805 Cherubini went to Vienna, in compliance with an invitation to compose an opera for the imperial theatre of that city. Here his chances of success were once more thwarted by his great antagonist Napoleon, who entered Vienna at the head of the victorious French army, and for a time interrupted all artistic enterprise. The personal meeting of emperor and composer was again of anything but a friendly kind. Soon after the performance of his new work Faniska (1806) at Vienna, Cherubini returned to Paris, and i or a long time kept an unbroken silence. His chief occupation was his lessons at the Conservatoire, besides which he filled up great part of the day by cutting the hearts and diamonds of ordinary playing cards into all kinds of fantastic figures and landscapes. The results of his extraordinary ingenuity, carefully framed, covered the walls of his study. An accidental circumstance at last roused him from this morbid indolence. He was staying at a country seat of the Prince de Chimay, where a new church was to be inaugurated. Timidly was an appeal made to him for a religious composition to be performed on the occasion, and in compliance with this request he wrote in a few weeks his .great Mass in F. Thus at a time of life when most artists rest on their laurels he entered a new field of creative labour—that of sacred music. Of the works of Cherubini’s third and perhaps his greatest period only the most important can be mentioned here. They are the Missa Solemnis in D, the coronation mass written for the consecration of Charles X., and the two requiems in C and D, the latter for male voices. Besides these he wrote numerous smaller compositions for the service of the Chapel Royal, most of which are still unpublished. The most striking feature of Cherubini’s sacred compositions is their solemn grandeur of conception, combined with an unequalled mastership of artistic treatment.
The Restoration of the Bourbons drew Cherubini from his long seclusion. The royal family were eager to show their favour to the opponent of Napoleon Bonaparte. Cherubini was created composer and conductor to the Chapel Royal, and in 1821 obtained the permanent directorship of the Conservatoire. His days were prolonged beyond the ordinary age of men, and after having witnessed and partly celebrated numberless revolutions in his adopted country, the more than septuagenarian retained sufficient vigour of mind to write one of his most charming operas when Louis Philippe was king in France. It is called Ali Baba, and was first performed in 1833. To the list of his dramatic compositions ought also to be added another important opera, Les Abencerrages, written in 1813, but treated with undeserved neglect by the public. He also wrote several pieces of chamber music, amongst which six quartets for strings, and one quintet and six sonatas for the pianoforte may be mentioned. A great number of his compositions, moreover, remained in manuscript at his death, March 15, 1842. Cherubini’s external bearing was frequently harsh and arrogant; his prejudice against Beethoven, both personally and artistically, is a deplorable instance of his one-sidedness. But his more intimate friends found him kind and faithful. His love of order was carried to excess. All his music was carefully labelled and distributed in pigeon-holes, and even his pocket-handkerchiefs were numbered for consecutive use. To this extreme carefulness we owe a complete catalogue of his own compositions from 1773-1841, edited by M. Bottée de Toulmon, under the title of Notice des Μanuscritι autographes de la musique composée par Μ. L. Z. C. S. Cherubini. We also possess by him a valuable Cours de contrepoint et de fugue, the letterpress of which is written by his pupil the well-known composer Halévy. An English biography— Cherubini, Memorials illustrative of his Life (Lond. 1874)—has been written by Mr E. Bellasis. An interesting article containing personal reminiscences of Cherubini by the German composer Ferdinand Hiller appeared in Macmillan's Magazine in 1875. (f. h.)
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