hopelessly with the shackles of a conventional system. From the
freedom of nature it sinks into a servile copyism which can hardly be
called art at all.

Yet the symbols of the Catacombs, though often rude and uncouth, must
not provoke our contempt. They fulfilled their purpose no less fully
than the triumphs of art in the _Camera Raphaele_ or the Sistine
Chapel. They were addressed not to the external sense, nor to the
critical taste, but to the inner eye of the soul and to the sublime
faculty of faith. They were not mere representations of the outward
semblances of things, but suggestions of eternal verities which
transcend the limits of time and space. The rudely scratched anchor
told of a hope that reached forward beyond this world and laid hold on
the great realities of the world to come; the dove spoke of the
brooding peace of God, which kept the heart and the mind amid
persecution and affliction with the power of an everlasting life; and    220
the palm was the symbol of the final victory over death and hell.

When the age of persecution passed away, this childlike and touching
simplicity of Christian art gave place to a more ornate character.
Called from the gloomy vaults of the Catacombs to adorn the churches
erected by Constantine and his successors, it gradually developed into
the many-coloured splendour of the magnificent frescoes and mosaics of
the basilicas. It became now more personal and historical, and less
abstract and doctrinal. The technical manipulation became less
understood, and the artistic conception of form more and more feeble,
till it gradually stiffened into the immobile and rigid types which
characterize Byzantine painting. It exhibited the weakness not of
infancy but of decrepitude, and might almost be called the last sigh
of art till its revival after the long slumber of the Middle Ages. It
is of importance, however, as enabling us to trace the development of
religious error, and the introduction of unorthodox additions to
Christian belief, and as showing the slow progress toward image
worship. It demonstrates the non-apostolicity of certain Romish
doctrines, the beginning of which can be here detected. It utters its
voiceless protest against certain others which are sought for in vain
in the places where, according to the Roman theory, they should
certainly be found. Where still employed in the Catacombs, art shared
the corruption and degradation above described.

It is to this period that most of the condemnations of art, or rather
of its abuse, in the writings of the primitive Fathers must be
referred. Toward the close of the fourth century Augustine inveighs
against the superstitious reverence for pictures, as well as the
growing devotion to the sepulchres, which he says the church condemned
and endeavoured to correct.[347] His contemporary, Epiphanius,           221
stigmatizes the employment of painting as contrary to the authority of
Scripture.[348] About the same time Paulinus of Nola made use of
biblical pictures for the instruction of the rude and illiterate
multitude who visited the shrine of Felix. “Perhaps it may be asked,”
he says, “for what reason, contrary to the common usage, I have
painted this sacred dwelling with personal representations?... Here is
a crowd of rustics of imperfect faith, who cannot read, who before
they were converted to Christ used profane rites, and obeyed their
senses as gods. I have, therefore, thought it expedient to enliven
with paintings the whole habitation of the saint. Pictures thus traced
with colours will perhaps inspire those rude minds with astonishment.
Inscriptions are placed above the paintings in order that the letter
may explain what the hand has depicted.”[349]

The feeblest intelligence might rise through the material to the
conception of spiritual truth.[350] But this ecclesiastical employment   222
of art speedily became the source of religious corruption and the
object of superstitious worship. At length it provoked the stern
iconoclasm of the Isaurian Leo and his successors, and was formally
prohibited by the general Council of Constantinople in the eighth
century. Even early in the fourth century the Council of Elvira, as if
with a prescience of the dire result that would follow, prohibited the
use of pictures in the churches, “lest that which was worshipped and
adored should be painted on the walls.”[351]

The iconoclastic spirit, however, was principally directed against
_graven_ images, which were regarded as the special objects of
idolatry. The earliest examples of these have been attributed to the
Gnostics, who so strangely blended the doctrines of Christianity with
pagan superstition. They claimed to possess contemporary images of
Christ from the collection of Pontius Pilate! But doubtless, like        223
the alleged statue of Christ at Cæsarea Philippi, mentioned by
Eusebius,[352] even if they had any reference to Our Lord at all, they
were of much later date. According to Augustine,[353] the Carpocratian
heretics had similar images; and Marcellina, who belonged to that
sect, exhibited in the Gnostic church at Rome figures of Christ, Paul,
Homer, and Pythagoras. In a similarly eclectic spirit the emperor
Alexander Severus placed among his lares the images of Our Lord and
Abraham, with those of Orpheus and Apollonius.[354]

Mosaic, which in classic times was used only for the decoration of
floors, was employed in Christian art in the more honourable task of
adorning the walls of the stately basilicas and churches. This
intractable material was not adapted for the delineation of objects
requiring delicacy of expression, but was admirably suited for
representing strongly pronounced types and solemn figures of Christ
and the saints, analogous to those in the stained-glass windows of
gothic cathedrals and minsters. Hence the mosaics, and gradually all
Byzantine art, stiffened into an expression of severity and gloom,
filling the mind of the beholder with solemnity and awe.[355] This
character is still strikingly seen in the art of the Greek church,
especially in Russia, where there is an intense and superstitious        224
reverence for pictures, known nowhere else. Many of the churches are
completely covered with paintings, which are valued, not for their
execution, for they are often hideously ugly, but as a sort of
talismans on account of their supposed religious sanctity.[356] Thus
art, which is the daughter of paganism, relapsing into the service of
superstition, has corrupted, and often paganized, Christianity, as
Solomon’s heathen wives turned his heart from the worship of the true
God to the practice of idolatry. Lecky attributes this degradation of
style to the latent Manicheism of the dark ages, to the monkish fear
of beauty as a deadly temptation, and to the terrible pictures of
Dante, which opened up such an abyss of horrors to the imagination.
But by means of this mediæval art, imperfect, and even grotesque as it
often was, would be brought vividly before the minds of the people of
a rude and barbarous age an intense conception of the scenes of
Christ’s passion, and a realistic sense of the punishment of the lost.

It will be convenient to treat the art of the Catacombs under the two
heads of symbolical and biblical paintings, and to discuss separately
the gilt glasses and other objects of interest found in these crypts.
De Rossi divides the subject into symbolical, allegorical, biblical,
and liturgical paintings; but some of these divisions, as for
instance, the last, assumes the whole question of the purport and
interpretation of these pictures.

     [325] M. Didron’s _Iconographie Chrétienne_ is a valuable
     contribution on this important subject.

     [326] In the beautiful figure of Pressensé, all art is an Æolian
     harp, shivering with the breezes that pass over it.

     [327] _Handbuch der Kunstgeschichte_, p. xii.

     [328] One of the earliest indications of human existence on the
     planet is a sepulchral cave in the post-pliocene drift at
     Aurignac, in France, in which are evidences of the celebration of
     the funeral banquet and other sepulchral rites. “The artificially
     closed Catacomb,” says Dr. Wilson, “the sepulchred dead, the
     gifts within, the ashes and _débris_ of the last funeral feast
     without, ... all tell the ever-recurring story of reverent piety,
     unavailing sorrow, and the instinctive faith in a future life
     which dwells in the breast of the rudest savage.”--“Prehistoric
     Man,” by Daniel Wilson, LL.D., Toronto University, p. 84.

     [329] “History of Art,” by Dr. Wilhelm Lübke, vol. i, p. 275.

     [330] “History of Christian Art,” vol. i, p. 39.

     [331] _Handbuch der Kunstgeschichte_, p. 14.

     [332] Mr. J. H. Parker refers to the fifth or sixth century many
     paintings which De Rossi ascribes to the second or third. These
     eminent authorities represent two extremes of opinion. Probably
     the truth lies between them.

     [333] No example of the former is known before A. D. 312. The
     nimbus is given to Our Lord in the fourth century, to angels in
     the fifth, but did not reach its widest application till the
     seventh. (Martigny, _Dict. des Antiqs. Chrét._) It was employed
     in ante-Christian pagan art, both Egyptian and classical. In
     Byzantine art it is a symbol of power and of office, and was
     therefore given alike to Pharaoh, Saul, Herod, Constantine,
     Judas, the apocalyptic Dragon, and Satan. Sometimes that of Judas
     is _black_. (Didron, _Iconog. Chrét._ in _loco_.)

     [334] Certain Gnostic images will be hereafter mentioned.

     [335] Ex. xx, 4. פֶּסֶל  is a _carved_ image, from the
     root פָּסַל, to cut, or carve.

     [336] These pictures were generally on smooth white plaster, and
     in beautiful bright colours, for the most part in spaces limited
     by lines of vivid blue, yellow, or red, or by bands of
     Egyptian-like lotus or lily pattern. If on the ceiling, they were
     in _lunettes_ similarly divided. These bands frequently run
     around the _loculi_ and _arcosolia_, and divide the walls into
     panels. Occasionally the latter are covered with a reticulated or
     lattice-like pattern in bright opaque colors. The paintings are
     now often much faded and defaced.

     [337] 1 Pet. iii, 19.

     [338] The Mediæval conception of Christ’s “Harrowing of Hell” and
     delivery of our first parents, ruined through the guile of the
     serpent, is a striking analogue of this myth. Compare also
     Bacon’s rather fantastic explanation of this legend by the
     principles of natural and moral philosophy. See his “Wisdom of
     the Ancients,” chap. xi.

     [339] Hom. i, _De Cruce Domini_.

     [340] “La physionomie presque payenne qui offre le décoration des
     Catacombes de Rome.”--_Discours Sur l’origine des types imitatifs
     de l’Art du Christianisme._ Paris, 1834, p. 96.

     [341] _Sculture e pitture sagre_, etc., t. iii, pp. 193, 218.

     [342] _Le Mystère de Syncrétisme Phrygien dans les Catacombes
     Roman de Prétextat._ (_Nouvelle Interprétation._) Paris, 1854.

     [343] Another reading is:
           HIC ORO NE INQVETES QVOT VIDES.

     [344] Fig. 31, from Perret, tom. i, planche lx. The description
     in the text is translated from his account, founded on Garrucci.
     See also _Tre sepolcri con pitture ed iscrizioni appartenenti
     alle superstizioni pagane del Bacco Sabazio e del Persidico
     Mitra_. Napoli, 1852.

     [345] _Voyage dans les terres bibliques_, pl. 5.

     [346] _Perret_, i, p. 44.

     [347] Novi multos esse sepulchrorum et picturarum adoratores ...
     quos et ipsa ecclesia condemnat, et tanquam malos filios
     corrigere studet.--Aug., _de Morib. Eccl. Cathol._, lib. i,
     c. 34.

     [348] Contra auetoritatem Scripturarum.--Epiphan., _ad Johan.
     Hierosol._

     [349] Forte requiratur, quanam ratione gerendi
           Sederit hæc nobis sententia, pingere sanctas
          _Raro more_ domos animantibus adsimulatis.
                           Turba frequentia his est
           Rusticitas non casta fide, neque docta legendi.
           Hæc adsueta diu sacris servire profanis,
           Ventre Deo, tandem convertitur advena Christo.
           Propterea visum nobis opus utile, totis
           Felicis domibus picturâ illudere sanctâ:
           Si forte attonitas hæc per spectacula mentes
           Agrestes caperet fucata coloribus umbra,
           Quæ super exprimitur titulis, ut litera monstret
           Quod manus explicuit.
             --Paulin., _De Felice Natal. Carm._, ix, vv, 541,
              _et seq._

     [350] Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem
           Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus.
                                           --Hor., _de Arte Poeticâ_.

           Mens hebes ad verum per materialia surgit
           Et, demersa prius, hac visa luce resurgit.
                                 --_On doorway of St. Denis, Paris._

     During the Middle Ages much religious truth was doubtless
     conveyed by these storied basilicas or “gospels in stone.” Of St.
     Mark’s, Venice, Dr. Guthrie says, “It is not more remarkable for
     its oriental splendour than for the flood of gospel truth set
     forth to all eyes in the mosaics that cover and adorn its domes
     and walls.... Here the grand central, saving doctrine, the glory
     of Paul and hope of sinners, ‘Jesus Christ, and him crucified,’
     is exhibited with wonderful fulness and fidelity.” In A. D. 483,
     Pope Sixtus dedicated to the people of God--_plebi Dei_--the
     mosaics of S. Maria Maggiore at Rome, executed for their
     instruction.

     [351] Placuit picturas in ecclesia esse non debere, ne quod
     colitur aut adoratur in parietibus depingatur.--_Concil.
     Eliber._, A. D. 305, c. 36.

     [352] Τοῦτον δὲ τὸν ἀνδιάντα εἰκόνα τοῦ Ἰησοῦ
     φέρειν ἔλεγον.--_Hist. Eccles._, vii, 18.

     [353] Sectae ipsius (Carpocratis) fuisse traditur socia quædam
     Marcellina, quæ colebat imagines Jesu et Pauli, et Homeri et
     Pythagoræ, adorando incensumque ponendo.--Aug., _de Hæresib._, c.
     vii; cf. Iren., _advers Hæres._, i, c. xxv, § 6. Rochette figures
     one of these Gnostic tessaræ or amulets with a head of Christ and
     the word ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ, accompanied by the symbolic fish.

     [354] In larario suo ... Christum, Abraham et Orpheum, et
     hujusmodi ceteros, habebat ac majorum effigies, rem divinam
     faciebat.--Lamprid., _in Alex. Sever._, c. xxix.

     [355] Lübke, vol. i, p. 316.

     [356] Stanley’s _Eastern Churches_, _passim_.

                            CHAPTER II.                                  225

                  THE SYMBOLISM OF THE CATACOMBS.

Primitive Christianity was eminently congenial to religious symbolism.
Born in the East, and in the bosom of Judaism, which had long been
familiar with this universal oriental language, it adopted types and
figures as its natural mode of expression. These formed the warp and
woof of the symbolic drapery of the tabernacle and temple service,
prefiguring the great truths of the Gospel. The Old Testament sparkles
with mysterious imagery. In the sublime visions of Isaiah, Ezekiel,
and Daniel, move strange creatures of wondrous form and prophetic
significance. In the New Testament the Divine Teacher conveys the
loftiest lessons in parables of inimitable beauty. In the apocalyptic
visions of St. John the language of imagery is exhausted to represent
the overthrow of Satan, the triumph of Christ, and the glories of the
New Jerusalem.

The primitive Christians, therefore, naturally adopted a similar mode
of art expression for conveying religious instruction. They also, as a
necessary precaution in times of persecution, concealed from the
profane gaze of their enemies the mysteries of the faith under a veil
of symbolism, which yet revealed their profoundest truths to the
hearts of the initiated. That such disguise was not superfluous is
shown by the recent discovery of a pagan caricature of the Crucifixion
on a wall beneath the Palatine, and by the recorded desecration of the
eucharistic vessels by the Apostate Julian.[357] To those who            226
possessed the key to the “Christian hieroglyphs,” as Raoul-Rochette
has called them,[358] they spoke a language that the most unlettered
as well as the learned could understand. What to the haughty heathen
was an unmeaning scrawl, to the lowly believer was eloquent of
loftiest truths and tenderest consolation.

Although occasionally fantastic and far-fetched, this symbolism is
generally of a profoundly religious significance, and often of extreme
poetic beauty. In perpetual canticle of love it finds resemblances of
the Divine Object of its devotion throughout all nature. It beholds
beyond the shadows of time the eternal verities of the world to come.
It is not of the earth earthy, but is entirely supersensual in its
character, and employs material forms only as suggestions of the
unseen and spiritual. It addresses the inner vision of the soul, and
not the mere outer sense. Its merit consists, therefore, not in
artistic beauty of execution, but in appositeness of religious
significance--a test lying far too deep for the apprehension of the
uninitiate. It is perhaps also influenced, as Kugler remarks, in the
avoidance of realistic representation, by the fear which pervaded the
primitive church of the least approach to idolatry.

Great care must be observed, however, in the interpretation of this
religious symbolism, not to strain it beyond its capacity or
intention. It should be withdrawn from the sphere of theological
controversy, too often the battleground of religious rancour and         227
bitterness, and relegated to that of scientific archæology and
dispassionate criticism. An allegorizing mind, if it has any
theological dogma to maintain, will discover symbolical evidence in
its support where it can be detected by no one else.[359]

One of the most striking circumstances which impresses an observer in
traversing these silent chambers of the dead is the complete avoidance
of all images of suffering and woe, or of tragic awfulness, such as
abound in sacred art above ground. There are no representations of the
sevenfold sorrows of the _Mater Dolorosa_, nor cadaverous Magdalens
accompanied by eyeless skulls as a perpetual _memento mori_. There are
no pictures of Christ’s agony and bloody sweat, of his cross and
passion, his death and burial; nor of flagellations, tortures, and       228
fiery pangs of martyrdom, such as those that harrow the soul in many
of the churches and picture-galleries of Rome.[360] Only images of joy
and peace abound on every side. These gloomy crypts are a school of
Christian love and gentle charity, of ennobling thoughts and elevating
impulses. The primitive believers, in the midst of their manifold
persecutions, rejoiced even in tribulation. “There is no sign of
mourning,” says d’Agincourt, “no token of resentment, no expression of
vengeance; all breathes of gentleness, benevolence, and love.” “To
look at the Catacombs alone,” says Rochette, “it might be supposed
that persecution had no victims, since Christianity has made no
allusion to suffering.” There are no symbols of sorrow, no appeals to
the morbid sympathies of the soul, nothing that could cause vindictive
feelings even toward the persecutors of the church; only sweet
pastoral scenes, fruits, flowers, palm branches and laurel crowns,
lambs and doves; nothing but what suggests a feeling of joyous
innocence, as of the world’s golden age.

The use of pictorial representations appears often to have been a
matter of necessity. Many of the Christians could understand no other
written language. Numerous inscriptions, by the extreme ignorance
manifested--the wretched execution, grammar, and spelling--show the      229
lowly and unlettered condition of those who affixed them to the
walls.[361] The relatives of the deceased would naturally desire some
token by which they might recognize, in that vast and monotonous
labyrinth of graves, the tomb of their departed friend. To those
ignorant of letters an inscription would but ill subserve this
purpose. Hence we often find some pictorial representation, either
with or without an accompanying inscription, on the tomb. These were
sometimes rude figures having a phonetic correspondence to the name of
the deceased, and sometimes the emblems of his trade. Of the former
kind are the following examples copied from the walls of the
Lapidarian Gallery:

         PONTIVS · LEO · SE · BIVO · FECIT · SIBI
         ET PONTIA · MAZA · COZVS · VZVS. (_sic._)
         FECERVNT · FILIO · SVO · APOLLINARI · BENE
                          MERENTI ·

     “Pontius Leo made this for himself while living. He and his wife
     Pontia Maxima made this for their well-deserving son,
     Apollinaris.”
                    Fig. 33.--Phonetic Symbol.]

The friends of Leo were probably unable to read this inscription,
whose atrocious latinity betrays the ignorance of the mason by whom it
was executed, and therefore had engraved upon the stone the rude
outline of a lion, the symbol of his proper name.

Another slab bears the outline of a little pig, the pictorial
translation of the somewhat singular name Porcella. It was, perhaps,
a term of endearment, like the obsolete English “Pigsney.”               230

         PORCELLA HIC DORMIT IN P ·
      Q · VIXIT ANN · III · M · X · D · XIII ·

     “Here sleeps Porcella in peace. She lived three years, ten
     months, and thirteen days.”
                    Fig. 34.--Phonetic Symbol.]

In like manner the tombs of Dracontius, Vitulus, and Onager, bear
respectively a dragon, a steer, and an ass, the phonetic synonymes of
these names. These figures may in some cases be a mere pictorial
paronomasia, but the explanation above suggested is the more probable
one. In the following example this is almost asserted:

     NABIRA IN PACE ANIMA DVLCIS
     QVI VIXIT ANOS XVI · M · V ·
     ANIMA MELEIEA
     TITVLV FACTV                      [Transcriber’s Note: sailboat]
     APARENTES SIGNVM NABE. [_sic._]

     “Navira in peace; a sweet soul, who lived sixteen years and five
     months; a soul sweet as honey; this epitaph was made by her
     parents. The sign, a ship.”
                    Fig. 35.--Phonetic Symbol.]

More frequently the figures had reference to the trade or occupation
of the deceased, as in the following epitaph, probably of a
wool-comber, found by Dr. Maitland built into the wall of the Piazzo
di Spagna, in Rome. Many important funeral tablets, both Christian and
pagan, have been thus employed for the commonest purposes. The objects   231
in the engraving are probably the shears, comb, ladle, and an unknown
instrument used for cleansing wool.

                      “To Veneria, in peace.”
                Fig. 36.--Wool-Comber’s Implements.]

The following, from the Lapidarian Gallery, indicates the trade of a
carpenter. The saw and adz are very like those now employed:

                      BAVTO ET MAXIMA SE VIVI
                             FECERVNT.

  [Illustration: [Transcriber’s Note: carpenter’s tools]

     “To Bautus and Maxima. They made this during their lifetime.”
                   Fig. 37.--Carpenter’s Tools.]

On another slab is a figure, probably of a vine-dresser, in a short      232
Roman tunic, standing near a wine cask, the symbol of his occupation.
He appears to be starting to the field with his mattock on his
shoulder, and in his hand is a wallet containing, perhaps, the
provision for the day.

                      GAVDENTIO FECERVM FRATRI
           QVI VICSIC ANNIS XXVIII · M · VIII · D · XVII

     “To Gaudentius. His brothers made this. He lived twenty-eight
     years, eight months, seventeen days.”
                 Fig. 38.--A Vine-Dresser’s Tomb.]

In the Catacomb of St. Agnes is a fresco of husbandmen carrying a wine
butt on their shoulders, the meaning of which is probably the same.
Mr. Hemans rather fantastically interprets this symbol as implying
concord, or the union of the faithful bound together by sacred ties,
as the staves of the cask are by its hoops.[362] Maitland translates
it as standing for a proper name. We have seen examples representing
fossors at work,[363] and Fabretti figures the slab of a sculptor,
exhibiting the manufacture of sarcophagi. Other examples occur, in
which the fuller’s tomb is indicated by mallets, the shoemaker’s by      233
shoes or lasts, the baker’s by loaves, the wood-feller’s by an axe,
the grocer’s by scales, and the like, although the meaning of some of
these figures is questioned. Didron, however, presses this
interpretation of these symbols much too far, making the dove, fish,
anchor, and sheep, only the emblems of the occupation of the fowler,
fisherman, sailor, and shepherd, respectively, thus doing violence to
the acknowledged canons of epigraphic criticism to be presently
indicated.[364]

But by far the larger proportion of these symbols have a religious
significance, and refer to the peace and joy of the Christian, and to
the holy hopes of a life beyond the grave; and many of them were
derived directly from the language of Scripture. They were often of a
very simple and rudimentary character, such as could be easily
scratched with a trowel on the moist plaster, or traced upon the
stone. They were sometimes, however, elaborately represented in
excellent frescoes or sculpture.

The beautiful allusion of St. Paul to the Christian’s hope as the        234
anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, is frequently represented
in the Catacombs by the outline of an anchor, often rudely drawn, but
eloquent with profoundest meaning to the mind of the believer. It
assured the storm-tossed voyager on life’s rough sea that, while the
anchor of his hope was cast “within the veil,” his life-bark would
outride the fiercest blasts and wildest waves of persecution, and at
last glide safely into the haven of everlasting rest. This allusion is
made more apparent when it is observed how often it is found on the
tombstones of those who bear the name Hope, in its Greek or Latin
form, as ΕΛΠΙϹ, ΕΛΠΙΔΙΟϹ, SPES, etc. In the accompanying example it is
displayed on a Christian patera. This symbol is not unknown in classic
art. It occurs on a ring from Pompeii, in the Museum of Naples, with
the word ΕΛΠΙϹ, Hope.

  [Illustration: Fig. 39.--Symbolical Anchor.]

Of kindred significance with this is the symbol of a ship, which may
also refer to the soul seeking a country out of sight, as the ship
steers to a land beyond the horizon. Sometimes it may be regarded as a
type of the church; and in later times it is represented as steered by
St. Peter and St. Paul.[365] The symbol of “the heaven-bound
ship”--ἡ ναῦς οὐραοδραμοῦσα--is mentioned by Clement of Alexandria       235
as being in vogue in the second century. This figure was used also in
pagan art as an emblem of the close of life, and may still be seen
carved on a tomb near the Neapolitan Gate of Pompeii. In the Catacombs
the execution of the symbol is often exceedingly rude, the design
being apparently copied from the clumsy barges of the Tiber. The mast
and yard sometimes present a vague imitation of the cross.[366] The
accompanying figure is from the Lapidarian Gallery of the Vatican.[367]

  [Illustration: Fig. 40.--Symbolical Ship.]

The palm and crown are symbols that frequently occur, often in a very
rude form. Although common also to Jewish[368] and pagan art, they
have received in Christian symbolism a loftier significance than they
ever possessed before. They call to mind that great multitude whom no
man can number, with whom Faith sees the dear departed walk in white,    236
bearing palms in their hands. The crown is not the wreath of ivy or of
laurel, of parsley or of bay, the coveted reward of the ancient games;
nor the chaplet of earthly revelry, which, placed upon the heated
brow, soon fell in withered garlands to the feet; but the crown of
life, starry and unwithering, the immortal wreath of glory which the
saints shall wear forever at the marriage supper of the Lamb. They are
the emblems of victory over the latest foe, the assurance that

         The struggle and grief are all past;
           The glory and worth live on.

The palm and crown conjoined, the latter encircling the sacred
monogram, are represented in the accompanying example from a slab in
the Vatican Library.

  [Illustration: Fig. 41.--Symbolical Palm and Crown.]

The palm has also been claimed, but, as we shall see, without any
warrant whatever, as the emblem of the martyrs and the designation of
their tombs.

One of the most beautiful symbols of the Catacombs is the dove, the
perpetual synonym of peace. Indeed, that word is frequently annexed to
the figure as if to show more distinctly its meaning, as in Figs. 42
and 43.[369] The innocence and purity of the dove make it an
appropriate emblem of the souls of departed Christians, soaring beyond
the defilements of earth to the peaceful blessedness of heaven.[370]     237
It is, therefore, in allusion to this thought sometimes accompanied by
the words, _anima innocens_, _anima simplex_--“innocent soul,” “simple
soul.” Perhaps there may be also a reference to the admonition of Our
Lord, “Be ye, therefore, ... harmless as doves.” The gentleness and
tender affection of these beautiful birds make them an emblem of
endearment in every age, as is strikingly seen in the frequent
allusions of the matchless Song of Songs. It may, therefore, be often
employed in the Catacombs with reference to the domestic virtues of
the deceased, and to the mutual constancy of husband and wife. The
expression, _palumbus sine felle_--“a dove without gall”--is often
applied in Christian epitaphs to the departed, especially in its
diminutive form--_palumbulus sine felle_--on the tombs of little
children, as if the bereaved parents presented their babes to the
Lord, like the turtle-doves and young pigeons of the ancient Jewish
offering of infant consecration.

                       “In the Peace of God.”
                    Fig. 42.--Symbolical Doves.]

The dove generally bears in its beak or claws an olive branch, the
sign of the assuaging of the waters of Divine vengeance from the face
of the earth. (See Fig. 43.) It is, then, as Tertullian expresses it,    238
“the herald of the peace of God.”

  [Illustration: Fig. 43.--Symbolical Dove.]

  [Illustration: Fig. 44.--Doves and Vase.]

                       “The place of Primus.”
               Fig. 45.--Dove Eating Olive Berries.]

Sometimes it is seen drinking out of a vase, or pecking at grapes or
olive berries, a symbol of the soul’s enjoyment of the fruits and
refreshing draughts of paradise.[371] (See Figs. 44 and 45.) As seen
sitting on the arms of the cross,[372] the dove is an appropriate
symbol of the peace with God purchased by the death of Our Lord Jesus
Christ. The dove in a cage may imply the faithful under persecution,     239
or the soul imprisoned in the body.

The dove was also used in the Catacombs as the symbol of the Holy
Spirit in representations of the baptism of Our Lord, and is described
by Paulinus as similarly employed in the church of Nola.[373]
Tertullian[374] applies toward the ecclesiastical edifice the
expression, _columbæ domus_--“house of the dove”--possibly, however,
with reference to the dove-like religion and character of the
Christians. In Mediæval art the Holy Spirit, under the form of a dove
wearing a cruciform nimbus, the symbol of divinity, is represented
brooding over the face of the waters of primeval chaos, inspiring the
prophets and saints, and even nailed to the cross above the crucified
body of Our Lord. This sacred emblem of the Paraclete, the Divine
Comforter, by a monstrous violation of propriety was emblazoned upon
battle-flags, and the Holy Name given to a military order and to ships
of war.[375]

This emblem was also used in pagan art. The light-winged coursers who    240
drew the airy chariot of Venus were doves. From the oaks of Dodona
doves uttered oracles of the future. A dove was also the celestial
messenger of Mahomet. The olive, too, was sacred to Minerva, and as
the symbol of peace was woven into the victor’s crown.

  [Illustration: Fig. 46.--Symbolical Peacock.]

Other pagan types were employed, but with a new and nobler Christian
significance. Thus the peacock, the proud bird of Juno, frequently
appears in the Catacombs, not as the symbol of the all-seeing eye of
God, in imitation of the pagan myth of the hundred eyes of Argus, but
as the emblem of immortality.[376] Associated in meaning and
frequently confounded in form with the peacock was the phoenix, the
marvellous story of whose rejuvenescence from the ashes of its funeral
pyre Clement of Rome recounts with unfaltering faith.[377] Lactantius
makes it the theme of an elaborate poem,[378] and Tertullian cites it
as a striking illustration of the resurrection of the dead.[379] It
was also considered a type of the new birth and of eternal felicity.
The cock, generally associated with St. Peter,[380] is interpreted as
the symbol of unsleeping vigilance; it is, perhaps, also an emblem or    241
suggestion of the remorse of the apostle for his denial of his Lord.

Another adaptation of classic symbolism is the employment of the stag,
the attribute of Diana, as the emblem of the Christian thirsting after
the living waters. It is generally represented drinking at a stream,
probably in allusion to the Psalmist’s panting after God as the hart
after the water-brooks.[381] The hare sometimes occurs, an appropriate
type of the persecution of the Christians, hunted amid those secret
burrows in the earth like rabbits in their warrens. The horse is
interpreted as symbolizing eagerness or speed in running the Christian
race, or, perhaps, the course of life happily accomplished;[382] and
the lion, fortitude of soul, or, from the notion that he slept with
open eyes, vigilance against the snares of sin.[383] It is remarkable
that the dog, a pagan symbol of fidelity, never occurs except as         242
accessory in hunting scenes of manifestly heathen type; probably on
account of the abhorrence of this, to them, unclean beast, by the
Jews, who so largely impressed their characteristics on Christian
thought and feeling.[384] The serpent, a common pagan symbol, and with
the cock the attribute of Æsculapius, nowhere appears but in the scene
of the temptation of Eve by the “Old Serpent, the Devil.”

The vine is an appropriate symbol of the intimate union of the
believer and Christ, and the olive tree of a life fruitful in good
deeds, or of the church, in whose sheltering arms all souls may find
rest, as the fowls of the air in the boughs of a tree. Flowers and
fruits may be the emblems of future beatitude; and a loaf, of the
bread of life or of the holy eucharist. The fountain is a type of the
living waters, and the lyre, of the influence of the Divine Orpheus.
The lamp and the light-house are the emblems of spiritual illumination
through the gospel. The balance may refer to the just dealing of the
deceased, or perhaps to the final judgment and the Eastern notion of
psychostasy.[385] The house probably indicates the tabernacle of the
body, or perhaps the last long home of the grave, or the house not
made with hands on high. Most of the symbols, however, refer to the
person and work of Christ, as the central and dominating idea of the     243
church of the Catacombs. Some of these are of such importance and of
so frequent occurrence as to demand a more detailed examination.

One of the most striking and beautiful of these symbols is that which
represents Christ as the Good Shepherd, and believers as the sheep of
his fold. While the doves, as we have seen, may be regarded as
emblematic of the beatified spirits of the departed, the sheep more
appropriately symbolize those who, still in the flesh, go in and out
and find pasture. Suggesting the thought of that sweet Hebrew
idyl[386] of which the world will never grow tired; which, lisped by
the pallid lips of the dying throughout the ages, has strengthened
their hearts as they entered the dark valley; and to which Our Lord
lent a deeper pathos by the tender parable of the lost sheep--small
wonder that it was a favourite type of that unwearying love that
sought the erring and the outcast and brought them to his fold again.
With reiterated and manifold treatment the tender story is repeated
over and over again, making the gloomy crypts bright with scenes of
idyllic beauty, and hallowed with sacred associations.

This symbol very happily sets forth the entire scope of Christian
doctrine. It illustrates the sweet pastoral representations of man’s
relationship to the Shepherd of Israel who leadeth Joseph like a
flock,[387] and his individual dependence upon him who is the Shepherd
and Bishop of all souls.[388] But it especially illustrates the
character and office of Our Lord, and the many passages of Scripture
in which he represents himself as the Good Shepherd, who forsook his
eternal throne to seek through this wilderness-world the lost and
wandering sheep, to save whom he gave his life that he might bring       244
them to the evergreen pastures of heaven.

This subject undergoes every possible variety of treatment and is
endlessly repeated--rudely scratched on funeral slabs, elaborately
sculptured on sarcophagi, moulded on lamps and vases, graven on seals
and rings, traced in gold on glass, and painted in fresco, generally
in the most prominent and honourable position, in the vaulting of the
chambers and tympana of the _arcosolia_.[389] The Good Shepherd is
generally represented as a youthful beardless figure in a short Roman
tunic and buskins, bearing tenderly the lost sheep which he has found
and laid upon his shoulders with rejoicing. This is evidently not a
personal image, but an allegorical representation of the “Lord Jesus,
that Great Shepherd of the sheep.” He is generally surrounded, as in
Fig. 47, by a group of fleecy followers, whose action and attitude
indicate the disposition of soul and manner of hearing the word. Some
are listening earnestly; others are more intent on cropping the
herbage at their feet, the types of those occupied with the cares and
pleasures and riches of this world. A truant ram is turning heedlessly
away, as if refusing to listen; and often a gentle ewe nestles fondly
at the shepherd’s feet or tenderly caresses his hand. An early
Christian writer, contemporary with this primitive art, furnishes an
interpretation of these pictures. He compares the poor of this world
to sheep in a barren desert; finding no allurements here below, they
seek after those things which are above. The rich, on the contrary,
are like sheep in a pleasant pasture, with heads and hearts always
intent on the things of earth. Frequently a shower of rain, or of
water from a rock--the emblem of the dews of grace or the waters of
salvation--falls, abundantly on the listening sheep, scantily on those   245
that are feeding, not at all on the one that is turning away.

  [Illustration: Fig. 47.--The Good Shepherd.]

Sometimes the sheep appears to nestle with an expression of human
tenderness and love on the shepherd’s shoulders; in other examples it
is more or less firmly held with one or both hands, as if to prevent
its escape. In a few instances the fold is seen in the background,
which seems to complete the allegory. Frequently the shepherd carries
a staff or crook in his hand, on which he sometimes leans, as if weary
beneath his burden. He is sometimes even represented sitting on a
mound, as if overcome with fatigue, thus recalling the pathetic words
of the _Dies Iræ_:

         Quærens me sedisti lassus.

Occasionally he is represented with a musical instrument, like the
classical syrinx or Pan’s-pipe, in his hand, as in Fig. 48, as if to
indicate the sweet persuasive influence of his word. In allusion to
this thought Gregory Nazianzen remarks, “The Good Shepherd will at one
time give his sheep rest, and at another time lead and direct them,
with his staff seldom, more generally with his pipe.” In a fresco in     246
the Catacomb of St. Agnes the shepherd’s tenderness and pity are
contrasted with the mercenary harshness of the hireling who careth not
for the sheep, and who rudely seizes by the leg one that struggles to
get free, while the Good Shepherd merely calls his sheep, and they
hear his voice and follow him. Sometimes an Orpheus, to whose lyre the
sheep seem to listen with pleased attention, takes the place of the
Good Shepherd.

  [Illustration: Fig. 48.--Good Shepherd with Syrinx.]

Sometimes the shepherd is represented as leading or bearing on his
shoulders a kid or goat instead of a sheep or lamb. This apparent
solecism has been thought a careless imitation of pagan figures of the
sylvan deity Pan, who frequently appears in art in this manner. It is
more probable, however, that it was an intentional departure from the
usual type, as if to illustrate the words of Our Lord, “I am not come    247
to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance,” and to indicate his
tenderness toward the fallen, rejoicing more over the lost sheep that
was found than over the ninety and nine that went not astray. It was
also, probably, designed as a protest against the rigour of the
Novatians in refusing reconciliation to penitent apostates. Sometimes
Our Lord, thus symbolically represented, is accompanied by one or more
of his disciples, as under-shepherds to whom is given command to feed
the flock of Christ, over which the Holy Ghost had made them
overseers.

In the Catacomb of St. Agnes is a remarkable fresco of a lamb between
two wolves, over which is written the word SENIORES, evidently an
allegorical representation of the story of Susanna and the elders, and
in mystic form an image of the church surrounded by persecution, or an
illustration of the words of Our Lord, “Behold, I send you forth as
sheep in the midst of wolves.”

The figure of the Good Shepherd has been a favourite symbol in every
age, and was common in pagan art. Mercury was worshipped under the
name Criophorus, or the Ram-bearer, and was thus represented in
painting and statuary.[390] More frequently the god Pan appears under
that figure, generally bearing in his hand the simple instrument to
which he has given his name. The Roman poets employ this sweet
pastoral image in their beautiful eclogues[391] to illustrate the
shepherd’s tender care for his flock, gently bearing the lambs in his
arms or on his shoulders, recalling the inspired language in which
Isaiah depicts the Almighty’s loving-kindness toward his people.[392]
From this outward resemblance between the pagan and Christian themes,    248
Raoul-Rochette has imagined that the frescoes of the Catacombs were
careless imitations of the heathen type, overlooking their
distinctively Christian interpretation. But the naked fauns dancing
with the nymphs of pagan art, as in the tomb of the Nasos, are
infinitely removed from the sweet and tender grace of the Christian
“Pastor Bonus.” Tertullian, in the second century, speaks of chalices
on which were paintings of the Good Shepherd and the lost sheep.[393]
Eusebius says that Constantine placed a statue of this subject in the
forum of Constantinople. It also appears in mosaic at Ravenna, A. D.
440, and in a Catacomb at Cyrene in Africa.[394]

But Our Lord is sometimes represented as a lamb instead of a
shepherd.[395] Indeed, this symbol is no less appropriate than the one
just considered, and has equally the sanction of Scripture. The          249
manifold sacrifices of the tabernacle and temple all pointed to the
Lamb slain from the foundation of the world, the true Passover of
mankind. The immaculate purity, gentleness, and divine affection of
the Redeemer, and his patience under affliction and persecution, make
this beautiful symbol an appropriate type of his innocence and
sufferings as he was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and, as a sheep
dumb before its shearers, opened not his mouth.[396] In the devout
recognition of Our Lord by John the Baptist,[397] and in the sublime
visions of the Apocalypse,[398] he is thus figuratively represented;
and to this divine Lamb is chanted evermore the song of praise and
honour and thanksgiving.[399]

  [Illustration: Fig. 49.--Lamb as Symbol of Christ.]

In the accompanying engraving from a sarcophagus in the Lateran, of
the fourth or fifth century, the lamb, wearing the nimbus in which are
inscribed the sacred monogram and the letters Alpha and Omega, the
emblems of divinity, is standing upon a hillock, perhaps intended for    250
Mount Zion,[400] from which flow four streams, probably the “river of
water of life,... proceeding out of the throne of God and of the
Lamb,” and dividing toward the four quarters of the earth. These
streams are also variously interpreted as signifying the four
evangelists, and the four rivers of paradise.[401] On a sarcophagus of
later date Our Lord is represented in human form with a scroll in his
hand, standing on a mound from which the four mystical rivers flow,
and by his side a lamb bearing a Latin cross on its head. On either
side are lambs, personifications of the apostles, to whom he is giving
the final commission to preach in all lands the gospel contained in
the scroll which he holds, and to baptize with the sacred waters at
their feet. Sometimes twelve lambs are represented approaching one in
the centre, as in frescoes in St. Clement’s at Rome, and at Ravenna.
On a gilt glass patera in the Vatican Library the lambs are seen to
issue from Jerusalem and Bethlehem, as indicated by their names
written above, and to approach Mount Zion, from which flow the four
evangelical streams united in the mystical Jordan. This is perhaps
emblematic of the twelve tribes, or of the gentiles coming from the
east and west to drink of the water of life. Paulinus describes a
mosaic in his basilica of Fondi, where a cross symbolical of Christ      251
was placed on the rock, and two flocks, of sheep and goats
respectively, stood around it. “The shepherd turns away,” he says,
“the goats on the left, and embraces with his right hand the
well-deserving lambs.”[402] This was perhaps the first of that series
of art-presentations of the last judgment which culminates in the
tragic terrors of the Sistine Chapel.

Sometimes a milk-pail is represented near a lamb, or hanging on a
crook by its side, or even resting on its back. Sometimes also it is
carried by the Good Shepherd. This has been magnified without due
evidence into a symbol of the eucharist. It might more naturally be
regarded as an emblem of the blessings of salvation, set forth by
Isaiah under the figure of wine and milk, or it may refer to the
soul’s being fed with the sincere milk of the word.

On the sarcophagus of Junius Bassus in the crypts of St. Peter’s, of
date A. D. 359, are exhibited several scenes from scripture history,
which will be hereafter described. In the spandrels of the arches over
these is a series of bas reliefs, in which lambs are naively shown as
enacting other scriptural scenes. In one a lamb, the personification
of Moses, strikes a rock from which the water bursts forth, and
another receives the law from the hand of God. Three lambs in a fiery
furnace represent the three Hebrew children in the furnace of
Nebuchadnezzar. Our Lord is symbolized by a lamb on whose head
another, personifying John the Baptist, is pouring the waters of
baptism, while the Holy Ghost in the form of a dove breathes divine      252
grace. A lamb, the personification of Christ, multiplies the loaves,
and brings forth Lazarus from the grave.

One of the most remarkable and important, in its theological
significance, of the symbols of the Catacombs is that of the fish. It
is one of the oldest in the entire hieratic cycle. It is found
accompanying the first dated inscription which bears any emblem
whatever,[403] and nearly a hundred examples occur which are
attributed to the first three centuries. It was also one of the first
to be discontinued. During the fourth century it rapidly fell into
disuse, and by the beginning of the fifth had almost entirely
disappeared from religious art.[404]

The abandonment of this remarkable figure may be explained by its
mysterious and anagrammatic character. It is a striking illustration
of that _disciplina arcana_ of the primitive church which employed
signs whose secret meaning its heathen foes could not understand. When
the age of persecution passed away there was no longer the necessity
to conceal under allusions and emblems, known only to the initiated,
religious truths which were openly proclaimed on every hand. Hence
this purely conventional sign fell into disuse.

This symbol probably derived its origin from the fact that the initial
letters of the names and titles of Our Lord in Greek--Ἰησοῦς Χριστὸς,   253
Θεοῦ Υἱὸς, Σωτήρ, Jesus Christ, Son of God, the Saviour--make up the
word ΙΧΘΥΣ, a fish. “This single word,” says Optatus, “contains a
host of sacred names.”[405] The same word also occurs acrostically in
the initial letters of certain so-called Sibylline verses quoted by
Eusebius[406] and Augustine,[407] which were doubtless of Christian
origin. The symbol is first mentioned by Clement of Alexandria,[408]
and probably had its origin in the allegorizing school of Christianity
which sprang up in that city.[409]

There appears also to have been an allusion in this figure to the
ordinance of baptism. “We are little fishes,” says Tertullian, “in
Christ our great fish. For we are born in water, and can only be saved
by continuing therein,”[410] that is, through the spiritual grace of
which baptism is the visible sign. “This sign,” says Clement, “will
prevent men from forgetting their origin.” “He (that is, Christ) is
that fish,” says Optatus, “which in baptism descends in answer to
prayer into the baptismal font, so that what was before water is now
called, from the fish, (_a pisce_,) _piscina_.”[411] Even the mythical   254
fish mentioned in the apocryphal book of Tobit,[412] occasional
pictures of which occur in the Catacombs, is interpreted by some of
the Fathers as typifying Our Lord. “That fish which came alive out of
the river to Tobias,” says Augustine, “whose heart, (liver,) consumed
by passion, put the demon to flight, was Christ.”[413]

This sacred sign was also regarded as an emblem of the sufferings of
Our Lord and the benefits of his atonement. “The Saviour, the Son of
God,” says Prosper of Aquitania, “is a fish prepared in his passion,
by whose interior remedies we are daily enlightened and fed.”[414]
“ΙΧΘΥΣ is the mystical name of Christ,” says Augustine, “because he
descended alive into the depths of this mortal life as into the abyss
of waters.”[415] “The fish in whose mouth was the coin paid as the
tribute money,” says Jerome, “was Christ, at the cost of whose blood
all sinners were redeemed.” Origen merely speaks of him as
“figuratively called the fish.”[416] “Thus this symbol became,” says
Dr. Northcote, “a sacred _tessera_, embodying with wonderful brevity
and distinctness a complete abridgment of the creed--a profession        255
of faith, as it were, both in the two natures and unity of person, and
in the redemptorial office, of Our Blessed Lord.”[417]

  [Illustration: Fig. 50.--Symbolical Fish.]

Few symbols, if any, were more common than this. It occurs rudely
scratched on funeral slabs, painted in the _cubicula_, sculptured on
the sarcophagi, moulded on lamps,[418] engraven on rings and
seals,[419] carved in ivory, mother-of-pearl, and precious stones, and
cast in bronze or glass. These last, often pierced in order to be worn
like an amulet, were frequently given to the neophyte at baptism to
remind him of the privileges and obligations which it conferred, and
they are often found buried with the dead. One of these has engraved
upon it the word ΣΩΣΑΙΣ--“Mayest thou save us;” and a sepulchral lamp,
besides representations of fishes, bears the word ΙΧΘΥΣ, and, as if
in explanation, the cyphers Α. Ω., ΙΗ. ΧΘ. ΣΩΤΗΡ--that is, The First
and the Last, Jesus Christ, the Saviour. A slab, on which are engraved
two fishes and an anchor, bears the inscription, ΙΧΘΥΣ ΖΩΝΤΩΝ--“The
fish of the living.” Sometimes this sacred sign is inscribed on pagan
tombstones used to close the _loculi_ of the Catacombs, in order to
give them a Christian character. Frequently the execution is
exceedingly rude, as in Fig. 50; occasionally it is of a more artistic
form, as in Fig. 51. It seldom occurs alone, however, but associated
with other Christian emblems, as the anchor or dove, (see Figs. 52 and   256
53,) as if to indicate that the deceased rests in Christ, in hope and
in peace. Sometimes the fish bears a wreath in its mouth, perhaps in
allusion to the crown which Christ will give to all his saints. Didron
objects to applying these symbols to Christ, because the fish does not
wear the nimbus. But the nimbus was not worn at all at this early
period; such a criterion is therefore inadmissible.

  [Illustration: Fig. 51.--Symbolical Fish.]

  [Illustration: Fig. 52.--Fish and Anchor.
  _From the Catacomb of Hermes. Earliest dated example, A. D. 234._]

  [Illustration: Fig. 53.--Fish and Dove.
  _From the Catacomb of St. Priscilla._]

  [Illustration: Fig. 54.--Eucharistic Symbol.]

This sacred fish is sometimes represented, as in Fig. 54, from the
crypt of St. Lucina, bearing what seems to be a basket of bread and a
flagon of wine on its back, or occasionally a loaf of bread in its
mouth. In these cases there is probably a reference to the bread of
life which Christ breaks to his disciples, or possibly to the holy
eucharist. Sometimes a bird is pictured as deriving nourishment from
the mouth of a fish, the symbol of a soul receiving refreshment from     257
Christ. The eucharist is also thought to be indicated by frequent
representations of a fish and bread on a table, sometimes with a
figure in prayer standing by; and also by a picture of seven persons
eating a repast of bread and fish together, probably Christ dining
with the disciples by the sea-shore after his resurrection.

Melito of Sardis speaks of Our Lord under the figure of a fish broiled
on the fire of tribulation.[420] A mystical interpretation was also
given to the loaves and fishes multiplied by Christ for the feeding of
the multitude, as indicating the sevenfold gifts of the Spirit and the
dispensations of the law and the gospel.[421]

A remarkable Greek inscription, found about thirty years ago in an
ancient Christian cemetery at Autun, in France, throws much light on
the profound religious significance of the symbol of the fish.[422]
Its date, as indicated by the character of the epigraphy, in the
opinion of the most eminent critics, is about the year 400.[423] The
language is of Homeric purity and vigour, which is accounted for by
the fact that Autun was, during the fourth and fifth centuries, a sort
of “French Eton,” where Greek, the tongue “of Homer and the gods,” was
sedulously cultivated. The following is the text as restored and
translated by Marriott. It will be perceived that the word ΙΧΘΥΣ         258
occurs acrostically in the initial letters of the first five
lines, and is found four times in the body of the inscription. It is
conjectured that the figure of a fish was also engraved, though now
unhappily obliterated, at both the lower corners, where spaces for it
seem to have been left.

     ΙΧΘΥΟϹ οὐρανίου ἅγιον γένος, ἤτορι σεμνῷ
     Χρῆσε, λαβὼν ζωὴν ἄμβροτον ἐν βροτέοις
     Θεσπεσίων ὑδάτων· τὴν σὴν, φίλε, θάλπεο ψυχὴν
     Ὕδασιν ἀενάοις πλουτοδότου Σοφίης,
     Σωτῆρος δ’ἁγίων μελιηδέα λάμβανε βρῶσιν.
     Ἔσθιε πεινάων ΙΧΘΥΝ ἔχων παλάμαις.
     ΙΧΘΥΙ χεῖρας ἄραρα· λιλαίεο δέσποτα Σῶτερ
     Εὐθύ μοι ἡγητήρ, σε λιτάζομε, φῶς τὸ θανόντων.
     Ἀσχανδῖε πάτερ, τῷ ’μῷ κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ,
       Σὺν μητρὶ γλυκερῇ καὶ πὰσιν τοῖσιν ἐμοῖσιν
         ΙΧΘΥΝ ἰδὼν υἵου μνήσεο Πεκτορίου.

     “Offspring of the heavenly Ichthus, [Christ,] see that a heart of
     holy reverence be thine, now that from divine waters thou hast
     received, while yet among mortals, a spring of life that is to
     immortality. Quicken thy soul, beloved one, to ever fuller life,
     with the unfailing waters of wealth-giving wisdom, and receive
     the honey-sweet food of the Saviour of the saints. Eat with
     longing hunger, holding Ichthus [the Divine Food] in thy hands.
     On Ichthus [Christ] my hands are clasped; in thy love draw nigh
     unto me and be my guide, my Lord, and Saviour; I entreat thee,
     thou Light of them for whom the hour of death is past. My father,
     Aschandeius, dear unto my heart, and thou, sweet mother, and all
     I love on earth, oft as you look on Ichthus [the holy sign of
     Christ] so often think of me, Pectorius, your son.”[424]

In this beautiful expression of primitive faith and hope Romish          259
interpretation has discovered evidence of prayers for the dead, of the
invocation of the Virgin Mary, the doctrine of transubstantiation and
communion in one kind, and mention of the “sacred heart of Jesus.”
Marriott has well shown the grammatical and other difficulties which
these forced interpretations create, and the absurdity of importing
into antiquity “controversial phrases of comparatively modern
theology, utterly unknown to the early church.”

Sometimes, by a confusion of metaphor common to both pictorial and
literary figurative expression, the symbol of the fish is applied to
men as well as to Our Lord. Indeed, this may have been its primary
application, and has the sanction of the scriptural designation of the
apostles as “fishers of men.” The Greek liturgy adopts the same
figure, and, in pursuance of the metaphor, speaks of the rod of the
cross, the hook of preaching, and the bait of charity.[425] There are
also frequent representations on the sarcophagi and in the frescoes of
the Catacombs, doubtless in allusion to this function of the Christian
ministry, of men drawing fish out of the water. These, however, must
not be confounded with the occasional fishing scenes copied from pagan
art; and the symbolical fish must be carefully discriminated from the
dolphins which frequently occur on the sarcophagi, and from the “great
fish” which swallowed Jonah. It is remarkable that a bronze image with   260
a chalice and fish was found at Autun, in the neighbourhood of the
inscription above given. The figure occurs also on certain ancient
coins, and in representations of the Phoenician Dagon or fish-god.

It is noteworthy that there are in the Catacombs comparatively few
representations of the cross, that sacred sign of salvation which in
after years became perverted to such superstitious uses; and when it
does occur it is generally in some disguised form, and not in that by
which it is now generally indicated, familiarly known as the Latin
cross. There is probably a twofold reason for this. The very sanctity
of the symbol, and the detestation in which it was held by the
heathen, conspired to prevent the early Christians from exposing it to
their profane gaze. It is almost impossible to conceive the abhorrence
in which the cross was held in the early centuries by the Greek and
Roman mind. It has for ages been hallowed by the most sacred and
venerable associations, and invested with the most sublime and solemn
interest as the emblem of the world’s redemption. It has waved on
consecrated banners, and been quartered on the arms of earth’s
proudest monarchs. It has shone on cathedral spire and dome, and,
emblazoned with gold and costly gems, has gleamed on many a sacred
shrine. It has been marked on the infant brow in baptism, and held
before the filming eyes of the dying; and has been associated with the
deepest emotions and holiest hopes of the soul.

Not so in the earliest ages of the church. It was then the badge of
infamy and sign of shame--the punishment of the basest of slaves and
the vilest of malefactors. It was regarded with a loathing and
abhorrence more intense than that in which the felon’s gibbet is held
to-day. Its very name was an abomination to Roman ears,[426] and it      261
was denounced by the prince of Roman orators as a most foul and brutal
punishment, an infamous and unhappy tree.[427] Hence this Christian
emblem became the object of scoffing and derision by the persecuting
heathen. An illustration of this is seen in the blasphemous caricature
of the Crucifixion, found upon the walls of the palace of the Cæsars
and attributed to the time of Septimius Severus.[428] It represents a
figure with an ass’s head attached to a cross, which another figure,
standing near, salutes by kissing the hand, or adores in the classical
sense of the word. Beneath is a rude scrawl which has been interpreted
thus: Ἀλεξόμενος σέβετε (_sic_) Θεὸν--“Alexomenos worships his god,”
probably the sneer of some Roman legionary at a Christian soldier of
Cæsar’s household. Lucian also contemptuously speaks of Our Lord as a
“crucified impostor.”[429]

The Christians, therefore, reverently veiled this sacred sign from the
multitude; but they cherished it in their hearts, and in times of
persecution gladly bore its reproach. The early Fathers, both Greek
and Latin, recognize the occurrence of this symbol everywhere            262
throughout the universe, and expatiate with fervent eloquence on its
mystical meaning. The points of the compass, says Jerome, and the
fourfold dimensions of space as mentioned by the apostle,[430] set it
forth. Its form was assumed by birds in their flight, by men in the
act of swimming and in the attitude of prayer, and is seen in the
masts and yards of vessels.[431] “The cross,” says Justin Martyr,[432]
“is impressed on all nature; there is scarcely a craftsman but employs
the figure of it among the implements of his industry.” It was seen in
the beam and share of the plough, and in the forms of flowers and
leaves. It was typified in countless analogies of Scripture, in the
measurement of the ark, the number of Abraham’s servants, the shape of
Jacob’s staff, and the roasting of the paschal lamb; in the rod of
Moses, the seven-branched candlestick, and the wave-offerings of the
temple service; and it was the hallowed sign marked in blood on the
lintels of the Hebrews’ houses. It healed the envenomed wounds of the
serpent-bitten Israelites in the desert, routed the Amalekites in
battle, and restored to life the son of the widow who gave bread to
the prophet. It was the mark of God on the saints of Jerusalem, and
was to be the sign of the Son of man in the heavens. The Christians
wore the sacred token like a banner on their foreheads,[433] and the
form at which men once shuddered, says Chrysostom, became the badge
of highest honour, so that even emperors laid aside the diadem to        263
assume the cross. “Let him bear the cross,” says Paulinus, “who would
wear the crown.”[434] Christians were known as “devotees of the
cross,”[435] and this sign of Christ[436] was employed to hallow every
act of their lives, their down-sitting and up-rising, their going out
and coming in.[437] It was especially adopted, as several of the
Fathers remark,[438] as the attitude of prayer, and Chrysostom quotes
in explanation the words of the Psalmist, “Let the lifting up of my
hands be as the evening sacrifice.”[439] Tertullian and Asterius
Amasenus[440] expressly declare that thus is set forth the passion of
Our Lord.

This symbol acquired at length in popular apprehension the power of a
sacred talisman to banish demons, vanquish Satan, avert evil, protect    264
in time of danger or temptation, and to shut the mouths of lions about
to devour the intrepid confessors of the faith.[441] The sign of the
cross on the forehead and heart, says Prudentius, banishes all
evil.[442] Another poet of the fifth century recommends the mystical
charm as an antidote to diseases of cattle. Into such superstition had
Christianity already degenerated.[443]

More common than any other Christian symbol in the Catacombs is the
so-called Constantinian monogram, ☧. The first certain example of     265
this is the following, which bears the date A. D. 331:[444]

     ☧   ASELLVS ET LEA PRISCO PATRI BENEMERENTI IN PACE
         QVI BIXIT ANNIS LXIIII MENSIBVS III DIES N XII.

     [Frond]   IN SIGNO      ☧         [Palm leaf]

     Asellus and Lea to Priscus, their well-deserving father, in
     peace, who lived sixty-four years, three months, twelve days. In
     the sign of Christ.

         Fig. 55.--Earliest dated Constantinian Monogram.]

A somewhat similar form occurs with the date A. D. 291, but De Rossi
thinks it is only an ornamental point.[445] The following fragment may
possibly belong to the year 298, when one of the consuls was named
Gallus; but it cannot be proved that he is the one mentioned in the
inscription: [VI]XIT ... ☧ ... GAL . CONSS.--“He lived in Christ
... and Gallus being consuls.”[446]

In the year 339 the second dated example occurs, enclosed in a circle.
In A. D. 341 three examples are found, and in A. D. 343 it occurs four
times in one inscription. After this it becomes exceedingly common,
and is even employed as a mark of punctuation between the words.         266

This monogram is formed, as will be perceived, by the combination of
the Greek characters CHI and RHO, the first two letters of the word
ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ, or Christ. It may, indeed, be regarded rather as a
contracted form of writing that word than as a proper symbol, just as
we sometimes write Xt. and Xmas. for Christ and Christmas. Indeed, it
most probably originated in the prevalent practice of contracted and
monogrammatic writing, of which we have so many examples in these
inscriptions. That the monogram stands for the name of Our Lord will
be apparent from an examination of a few of the inscriptions in which
it occurs, as, for instance, the very first dated example, above
given. See also the following: IN PACE ET IN ☧ DEO--“In peace and
in Christ God;” BIBAS IN ☧--“May you live in Christ;” IN ☧ VICTRIX,
which probably meant “Victrix (a woman’s name) victorious in Christ.”
Marangoni gives the accompanying impression of a seal on the plaster
of a grave. See figure 56.

  [Illustration: “Hope in Him,” _i. e._, in Christ.
                     Fig. 56.--Christian Seal.]

This monogram soon became almost universal in the Catacombs, on
sepulchral slabs, lamps, vases, rings, seals, weights, gems, etc., and
in every conceivable modification of form, some of which are shown in
the illustration on next page. See also the vignette on title page,
copied from an alabaster slab in the Collegio Romano, originally from
the Catacombs.

  [Illustration: Fig. 57.--Various Forms of the Constantinian Monogram.]

  [Illustration: Fig. 58.--“Tasaris in Christ, the First and the Last.”]

Frequently the Greek letters Alpha and Omega accompany the monogram,
as in numbers 1, 4, and 6 of Fig. 57, in allusion to the sublime
passage in the Revelation descriptive of the eternity of Christ.[447]    267
Sometimes the order of the letters is reversed, probably through the
ignorance of the artist, as in the accompanying rude example, Fig. 58.
The whole was sometimes placed obliquely, or even turned upside down,
doubtless for the same reason. Even in its simplest form it was
considered sufficient to give a Christian character to a tombstone
which had been originally pagan. Such inscriptions are called            268
_opisthographæ_, that is, written behind. In the following example
from Aringhi the letters D. M., for the heathen formula DIS
MANIBVS,--“To the Divine Manes,” are partially obliterated, and the
consecrating sign substituted instead.

  [Illustration: Fig. 59.--Opisthographic Inscription.]

This monogram has been supposed to have been adopted from the
celebrated Labarum, or battle-standard of Constantine, which bore this
sacred figure. This was derived in turn, it was feigned, from the
image which the imperial convert saw, or thought he saw, traced in the
sky in characters of fire brighter than the noon-day sun, before the
battle of the Milvian Bridge. Probably a solar halo of unusual
splendour was magnified by the eager imagination of Constantine into a
token of divine assistance, and the legend Ἐν τούτῳ νίκα was an after
addition of the credulous historian. The Christian emblem, according
to Prudentius,[448] was worn upon the shields and helmets of the whole
army as well as on the imperial standard; “and so,” says Milman, “for
the first time the meek and peaceful Jesus became a God of battle; and
the cross, the holy sign of Christian redemption, a banner of bloody     269
strife.”[449]

Probably there is allusion to the above mentioned legend in the
following inscription from Bosio:

                            IN HOC VINCES

                                  ☧

                         SINFONIA ET FILIIS.

     In this thou shalt conquer. In Christ. Sinfonia, also for her sons.

On a remarkable sarcophagus in the Lateran Museum is a representation
of the monogram[450] supported on a cross and surrounded by a wreath,
at which doves are pecking; probably a symbol of the souls of the
blessed feeding on the hope of an immortal crown and the sweetness of
eternal bliss. Beneath are crouched two soldiers, types, it is
thought, of the Christian warriors not yet entered into rest, whose
only place of safety is at the foot of the cross; or they may refer to
the Draconii, or imperial guard of the Labarum, who, according to
Eusebius, passed unhurt amid showers of javelins.

The following enlarged copy of an early Christian seal exhibits the
triumph of the cross over the Old Serpent, the Devil, while it is the
symbol of salvation to the saints represented by the doves at its
foot. In later art the figures of lions, eagles, falcons, peacocks,      270
doves, and lambs, grouped around the cross, seem to signify its power
to subdue evil passions and to inspire holy virtues.

  [Illustration: Fig. 60.--Early Christian Seal.]

  [Illustration: Fig. 61.--Monogram, united with the Cross.]

The change of the monogram into the cross was very gradual. First one
stroke of the X became coincident with the vertical part of the P, and
the other at right angles to it, as in No. 6, Fig. 57. At length the
loop of the P disappears and the Greek cross results. In the other
examples of Fig. 57 the cross, if cross it was at all, was neither in
the Greek nor Latin form, but in that known as St. Andrew’s. Finally
the lower arm was lengthened till it assumes the form shown in the
accompanying engraving, which was found on the grave of a neophyte
four years old. The first dated example of a simple undisguised cross
in the Catacombs does not occur till A. D. 407;[451] but during the
latter part of the fifth century it became quite common. It also
became more ornate in form, and was frequently adorned with gems and
wreathed with flowers, especially in the later bas reliefs. In the
fourth century it had already become an object of such superstitious     271
veneration as to call forth the reproaches of Julian and the
extravagant laudation of many of the Christian fathers.[452] In the
time of Chrysostom the alleged discovery of the true cross by the
Empress Helena was universally received, and “materialized at once,”
says Milman, “the spiritual worship of Christianity.”[453] Its
position was revealed in a vision and its genuineness proved by the
miraculous cures which it performed, as recorded by St. Cyril,
afterward bishop of Jerusalem, a reputed eye-witness of the event. The
precious relic, distributed throughout Christendom[454] and in minute
portions worn as sacred talismans, did much to cultivate a spirit of
superstition which culminated in the Romish festivals of the Invention
and Exaltation of the Cross, and in the hymns and offices of the
church, often bordering, at least, upon idolatrous homage.[455] It
also led to the conception of the marvelous legend of the cross in the   272
apocryphal gospels and ancient traditions.[456]

The cross thus gradually assumed the form in which it is now generally   273
represented; but it was a sign of joy and gladness, crowned with
flowers, adorned with precious stones, “a pledge of the resurrection
rather than a memorial of the passion.”[457] It was like the rainbow
in the cloud to Noah after the flood--a promise of mercy, not a symbol
of wrath. It was not the dead Christ but the glorified Redeemer that
the primitive Church presented to the imagination. She lingered not by
the empty sepulchre, but followed by faith the risen Lord. The
persecuted saints shared the triumph of His victory over death and the
grave, and felt that because He lived they should live also.

The early believers carefully avoided, as though prevented by a sacred
interdict, any attempt to depict the awful scenes of Christ’s passion,
the realistic treatment of which in Roman Catholic art so often shocks
the sensibilities and harrows the soul. This solemn tragedy they felt
to be the theme of devout and prayerful meditation rather than of
portraiture in art. Hence we find no pictures of the agony and bloody
sweat, the mocking and the shame, the death and burial of Our Lord.
“The Catacombs of Rome,” says Milman, “faithful to their general
character, offer no instance of a crucifixion, nor does any allusion
to such a subject of art occur in any early writing.”[458] “The
passion is not represented literally,” says Dr. Northcote, a strenuous   274
advocate of Roman Catholic views, “but under the veil of secresy. It
is not our Beloved Lord, but some other who bears his cross. The crown
which is placed on his head is of flowers rather than of thorns, and
corresponds better with the mystical language of the Spouse in the
Canticles[459] than would a literal treatment.”[460] With this agrees
the assertion of the distinguished Prussian archæologist, Prof. Piper,
of Berlin. Speaking of the series of art representations, belonging to
the first five centuries, of scenes in the life of Our Lord, which
extend from his nativity to his appearance before Pilate, he says,
“Further, however, this series does not go: the death and resurrection
of Christ have not at all been made the subject of representation in
this period.”[461]

In the fifth century Paulinus of Nola speaks of Christ as represented
by a snowy lamb standing at the foot of the cross.[462] Sometimes a
lamb bore the cross, at others it was couchant in the midst of it;
and, as if to bring the sacrificial emblem more vividly to mind, the     275
lamb was represented as wounded and bleeding, an innocent victim given
to an unjust death.[463]

In A. D. 692 the Quinisextan Council decreed that the historic figure
of Christ in human form should be substituted for paintings of the
lamb[464]--an evidence that the earlier representations were purely
allegorical. The lamb, however, still continued to be employed, and it
required the reiterated injunction of Pope Adrian, in the eighth
century, to enforce uniformity of usage; and even after that time a
reversion to the former practice sometimes occurred.

The oldest extant representation of the crucifixion is a miniature in
a Syrian evangelarium, of date A. D. 586, now in the Laurentian
Library at Florence. The treatment of the subject is exceedingly rude,
bordering on the grotesque. The figure of Our Lord is crowned with a
nimbus and clothed with a long purple robe The soldiers on the ground
are casting lots for his garments, and the sun and moon look down upon
the scene. A companion picture represents the ascension of Christ and
the effusion of the Holy Spirit. “These are the oldest pictorial
representations,” says Prof. Piper, “of the earthly life of Jesus and
of his exaltation.... At a somewhat later period,” he continues, “they
appear also in the west.”[465]

Gregory of Tours, about the end of the sixth century, mentions,
apparently as an unusual innovation, a picture in the church at          276
Narbonne which represented the crucifixion of Our Lord.[466] About the
same time Venantius Fortunatus mentions what seems to have been a
metallic cross bearing the image of Christ.[467]

The figure of Jesus first appeared standing at the foot of the cross,
frequently with outstretched arms as if in prayer, which type was
common in the eighth century. Sometimes the bust only was exhibited at
the top of the cross, or even hovering over it, as in a reliquary
presented to Theodelinda by Gregory the Great, the head being crowned
with a nimbus, but without any expression of pain.

In the ninth century the form of Christ is raised to the centre of the
cross; but he is still alive, with open eyes and head erect, as if to
indicate that the divine nature was not subject to death. The hands
are not nailed, but extended in prayer; the darkened sun and moon look
down upon the awful tragedy; but still a feeling of reverence
prevented the depicting of any expression of suffering on the
countenance of the Redeemer. It was not till the eleventh century that
art attempted to represent either the agony or death of the Son of
God.[468] From this time he is exhibited lifeless upon the cross, his    277
hands and feet transpierced with nails and a spear wound in his side,
from which the flowing blood sometimes falls on the head of the
spectators, as if indicating the efficacy of the atonement; and in the
thirteenth century the head drops heavily to one side.[469]

The arrangement of the drapery differs greatly in these paintings. In
the tenth century the form of the divine victim is entirely clothed
with a long robe with sleeves, the hands and feet alone being
uncovered. In the eleventh and twelfth centuries the robe becomes
shorter and the sleeves disappear; in the thirteenth it is reduced to
a short tunic; and in the fourteenth it is little more than a narrow
girdle about the loins, at which stage it has since remained. The
_suppedaneum_, or support for the feet, is generally represented.
It is frequently in the form of a globe, or of a chalice. The support
for the body is never shown in art. Sometimes the sepulchre, with the
angel and the two Marys, is seen in the background. One example, in
St. John’s Lateran, exhibits the gate of paradise and the tree of
life.

The expression of the face also underwent a change--a dire eclipse of
woe--no less painful to behold. In the earlier pictures of the
crucifixion the countenance of the Redeemer is still gentle and
benign, the type of tenderness and truth; but it gradually becomes
more and more strongly marked with the expression of sorrow and
physical anguish, till all the divine fades away, and only the human
agony of the wan and furrowed face remains. The serene and joyous
aspect which, as we shall see, the representations of Our Lord always    278
wore in the Catacombs, vanishes, and he is depicted as the “man of
sorrows,” crushed with hopeless grief, crowned with thorns,
transpierced with nails, and stained with dropping blood from the
ghastly spear-wound in his side. Art exhausted its power in
delineating the intensest forms of anguished suffering, sinking lower
and lower in the depths of a brutal materiality and ferocity of
treatment of this sacred theme. Even the genius of Michael Angelo only
renders more painful the contrast between the tender and pitiful Good
Shepherd of the Catacombs and the relentless Judge of the Sistine
Chapel, menacing the guilty with the thunderbolts of wrath--a pagan
Zeus rather than the Christian God of Mercy. This striking change but
too faithfully represents the corresponding degradation and
materialization of religious belief.

The crucified Christ was not only depicted in his dying agonies on
earth, but this human anguish is even introduced into representations
of heaven, bringing gloom upon its glory and sadness amid its joy. The
Divine Father is frequently portrayed as sitting on the throne of his
majesty, and holding in his hand a cross on which hangs the agonized
body of his Son.[470]

In the East the development of image worship seems to have been
earlier than in the West.[471] During the eighth century its
corruptions provoked the iconoclastic zeal of the Isaurian Leo; and a
general council condemned as idolatrous all symbols of Christ except
the holy Eucharist.[472] Their destruction was rigorously prosecuted
in the Eastern Empire; but Gregory II. became the champion of image      279
worship in the West, and Italy, adhering to her ancient pagan
instincts, substituted this new idolatry for that which she had
abandoned.

The development of the graven representation of the passion was more
gradual than its treatment in graphic art. This was the work of the
sculptors. At first the figure of Our Lord was merely painted on a
flat surface of wood or metal. This was afterward incised in outline,
and exhibited in low relief, as on an ivory diptych of date A. D. 888
in the Vatican Museum. In this the sun and moon, as genii, hold
torches above the cross; and by a singular association of ideas,
Romulus and Remus, suckled by the wolf, appear at its foot, probably
in allusion to Christ’s spiritual subjugation of the Roman
Empire.[473] The treatment of this sacred theme passed gradually
through the stages of _basso_, _mezzo_, and _alto relievo_, becoming
more and more detached, till, in the fourteenth century, the figure of
Our Lord upon the cross stood out, the completed and portable
crucifix.[474] From this, through rapid stages, we arrive at the gross
and ghastly images which abound throughout Roman Catholic Christendom;
in every church and at every shrine; in the homes alike of prince and
peasant; at the street corners and by the way side; often in popular
apprehension endowed with the power of weeping, motion, speech, and
working miracles.[475] By such gradations between the soul of man and    280
the living Saviour came the image of the dead Christ, diverting the
thoughts from the faith in a living Lord to an idolatrous veneration
of a lifeless symbol.

Thus, as Dr. Maitland remarks, in painting sight superseded faith, and
in sculpture touch superseded sight. But still another resource of
sensuousness was to be discovered; and in the year 1223, “when the
world was growing cold,”[476] as the Roman Church, with a deeper
meaning than it knew, asserted, Saint Francis of Assis is feigned to
have received the stigmata of the five wounds of Christ, and
thenceforth to have borne about in his body--a living crucifix--the
marks of the Lord Jesus. This miracle was afterwards frequently
repeated; but the Church, seeking amid the growing darkness of the
times to walk by sight and not by faith, wandered ever further and
further from the central source of light and power, and lost all
ability to communicate to a cold and dying world any spiritual life
and warmth.

The sad lesson of the history we have been tracing is but too plain.
In the early ages, and in the fervent glow of primitive faith, no
outward symbol was necessary to reveal to the soul the presence of the
Divine, or to interpret the profound meaning of the atonement. The
Church required no sensuous image of Him, whom having not seen she
loved, to prevent that love from growing cold. As the fervour of faith
failed she relied more on the visible sign to quicken her languid
devotion; but not till six centuries of gathering gloom had passed       281
over her head after her fatal alliance with imperial power did
degenerate art dare to portray to the eye of sense the death pangs and
throes of mortal agony of the suffering Son of God. In the church of
the Catacombs these images of sadness and gloom have no place. All is
bright, cheerful, and hope-inspiring. In the following chapter we
shall see that these characteristics are strikingly manifested in all
the representations of Our Lord that there occur.

     NOTE.--We have made no reference in the foregoing remarks to the
     pre-Christian crosses, of which so many examples occur. It is not
     remarkable that this perhaps simplest of all geometrical figures
     should have attracted the notice of many diverse and ancient
     races, and even have been regarded as a sign of potent mystical
     meaning. This subject has been treated with a good deal of
     fantastic theory by S. Baring-Gould, M.A., (_Curious Myths of the
     Middle Ages_, pp. 341, _et seq._;) more philosophically by
     Creuzer, (_Symbolek_, pp. 168 _et seq._,) and by various
     travellers and observers of ancient remains in many lands. Sir
     Robert Ker Porter mentions the hieroglyph of a cross, accompanied
     by cuneiform inscriptions, which he saw on a stone among the
     ruins of Susa. (_Travels_, vol. ii, p. 414.) Prescott mentions
     its occurrence among the objects of worship in the idol temples
     of Anahuac, (_Conquest of Mexico_, vol. iii, pp. 338-340.) It was
     found on the temple of Serapis at Alexandria, which fact was
     urged by the pagan priests to induce Theodosius not to destroy
     that building. (Socrates, _Eccl. Hist._, v, 17.) It was probably
     a Nilometer, or perhaps the so-called “Key of the Nile,”
     frequently held in the hand of Egyptian deities as the emblem of
     life, or the symbol of Venus, probably of phallic significance.
     (Tertul., _Apol._, c. 16.) It is found also on Babylonian
     cylinders, on Phoenician and Etruscan remains, and among the
     Brahminical and Buddhist antiquities of India and China.
     (Medhurst’s _China_, p. 217.) It was also the sign of the Hammer
     of Thor, by which he smote the great serpent of the Scandinavian
     mythology. On rather slender evidence S. Baring-Gould attributes
     its use to the pre-historic lake-dwellers of Switzerland. It was
     also found, he asserts, combined with certain ichthyic
     representations in a mosaic floor of pre-Christian date, near Pau
     in France, in 1850. This example was probably post-Christian.

     [357] When persecution ceased, this veil of mystery was thrown
     off and a less esoteric art employed; but even when Christianity
     came forth victorious from the Catacombs, symbolical paintings
     celebrated its triumph upon the walls of the basilicas and
     baptisteries which rose in the great centres of population.

     [358] _Mémoire sur les antiquités Chrétiennes des Catacombes._
     (_Mém. de l’Acad. des Inscr., XIII._)

     [359] Sometimes this superzealous interpretation leads to absurd
     mistakes. Aringhi devotes two folio pages to the explanation of
     certain figures which occur in the inscriptions of the Catacombs,
     which he calls representations of the human heart. He illustrates
     the subject with much sacred and profane learning, and with many
     quotations from the Scriptures, the Fathers, and classic authors.
     Another archæologist, Boldoni, suggests that the figures signify
     the bitterest sorrow of heart--_dolorem cordi intimum_; and
     another believes them to be representations of a heart
     transpierced with a thorn, the symbol of profoundest grief. These
     mysterious figures, whose hidden meaning was sought with such
     empty toil--_arcanam significationem inani labore
     investigarint_, says De Rossi--were, however, nothing more
     than the leaf-decorations employed in both pagan and Christian
     inscriptions by way of punctuation! See the following example:

       [Illustration: Fig. 32.--To Berpius, (or Verpius,) in Peace.]

     [360] See especially the church of S. Stefano Rotondo, where is a
     chronological series of martyrdoms, represented in all their
     direst horrors, from the crucifixion of Our Lord to the reign of
     Julian. Among other _grotesqueries_ is a picture of St. Dionysius
     walking in full episcopal robes at the head of a procession,
     holding his head, streaming with blood, in his hands!

     The desire to find martyrs has led over-zealous antiquarians to
     discover instruments of torture in the implements of trade
     commonly represented on the gravestones of the Catacombs. The adz
     and saw of the carpenter are made to do duty in some sensational
     tale of chopping and sawing of a Christian sufferer, and the
     baker’s corn measure is transformed into a martyr’s fiery furnace.

     [361] See Figs. 122 to 128, and context.

     [362] _Sac. Art_, p. 43.

     [363] Figs. 23, 24.

     [364] Such symbols were not peculiar to Christian tombs. There
     were many pagan examples of a similar character. Thus a
     _cultrarius_, or cutler, has knives; a _pullarius_, or poulterer,
     a cage or coop of chickens; a _tabellarius_, and postman, a
     writing case; and a _marmorarius_, or mason, a mallet and chisel,
     on his tomb. Sometimes a shop, with customers bargaining, is
     shown. A bag or purse signifies an agent; money, a banker; and
     the like. The _ascia_ or axe, so common on Roman tombs, probably
     represents a sacrificial instrument. Analogous to these are the
     sphere and cylinder engraven on the tomb of Archimedes, and the
     square and compasses on modern masonic monuments. In the Armenian
     cemeteries a hammer, trowel, last, scales, and shears, indicate
     the grave of a carpenter, mason, shoemaker, grocer, or tailor. In
     the Cemetery de l’Est, at Paris, animals acting mark the tomb of
     the French fabulist, La Fontaine; masks, that of Molière; a
     palette or brushes, that of a painter. See also the naval and
     military trophies on the tombs of many distinguished sailors and
     soldiers.

     [365] Fig. 112. This symbol is designated by modern Italians La
     Navicella di San Pietro--the Bark of St. Peter. From the fancied
     resemblance of the body of the church to a ship, or from the
     above allusion, the word _nave_, applied to that part, has been
     derived as if from _navis_, a ship. May it not possibly be from
     ναός, a temple?

     [366] “Arbor quædam in navi,” says St. Ambrose, “est crux in
     ecclesia.”

     [367] Compare the following beautiful passage from Tertullian, in
     which the metaphor is elaborately carried out: “Amid the reefs
     and inlets, amid the shallows and straits of idolatry, Faith, her
     sails filled with the Spirit of God, navigates; safe, if
     cautious, secure, if intently watchful. But to such as are washed
     overboard is a deep, whence is no outswimming; to such as run
     aground is inextricable shipwreck; to such as are engulfed is a
     whirlpool, where there is no breathing in idolatry. All its waves
     suffocate; every eddy drags down to Hades.”--_De Idol._, c. 24.

     [368] Compare 2 Esdras ii, 44, 45. See _ante_, Fig. 18. The
     palm appears on the coins of Simon Barchocab.

     [369] See also Figs. 15, 77, and 82. The figures are often very
     conventional, and look more like geese or ducks than doves.

     [370] See Psa. lxviii, 13. In Mediæval art the soul is
     represented issuing from the mouth of the dying or flying through
     the air in the form of a dove. One example bears the
     inscription--_animæ interfectorum_--the souls of the slain.

     [371] See the common epigraphic expression, ΠΙΕ ΕΝ ΘΕΩ--“Drink
     in God,” and the language of Augustine concerning a deceased
     friend--“Jam ponit spirituale os ad fontem tuum, Domine, et bibit
     quantum potest.”--_Con._, ix, 3.

     [372] See Figs. 60 and 106. “The doves which perch upon the
     cross,” says Paulinus, “show that the kingdom of God is open to
     the simple”--
              Quæque super signum resident cæleste columbæ
                Simplicibus produnt regna patere Dei.

     [373] Per columbam Spiritus Sanctus fluit.--_Ep. ad Sever._

     [374] _Contra Valentin._, c. iii. Sometimes a gold or silver
     dove was placed over the altar, (Bing., viii, 6, § 19,) as is
     still occasionally seen even in Protestant churches. In the
     Middle Ages churches and abbeys were named from this symbol, as
     _Santa Columba_ and Sainte Colombe, the church of the Holy
     Dove. They were also dedicated to the Holy Ghost under the title
     of Saint Paraclete, Santo Spirito, and Saint Esprit.

     [375] According to an apocryphal Gospel, the Holy Ghost under the
     form of a dove designated Joseph as the spouse of the Virgin Mary
     by lighting on his head; and in the same manner, says Eusebius,
     (vi. 29,) was Fabian indicated as the divinely appointed bishop
     of Rome. According to a singular legend, the Holy Spirit in the
     form of a dove was present at the Council of Nice, and _signed
     the creed_ that was there framed. In the Arthurian legend a snowy
     dove accompanied the apparition of the Holy Grail. In the
     fifteenth century a pigeon which lighted on the tent of Edward
     III., at Calais, was thought to be a manifestation of the Holy
     Ghost. (_Mémoires de Phil. de Commines_, iv, 10.) Seven doves
     hovering around the head of Our Lord or the Virgin Mary
     symbolize, in Mediæval art, the seven-fold gifts of the Spirit.

     [376] See Figs. 46, 89.

     [377] _Ep. ad Corinth._, § 25.

     [378] _De Phoenice._

     [379] _De Resurrec. Carn._, c. 13.

     [380] See Fig. 102.

     [381] Psa. xlii, 1. See Fig. 132.

     [382] See Fig. 115.

     [383] In later art this figure is used as an emblem of the Lion
     of the tribe of Judah, and is sometimes represented as opening
     the apocalyptic book with seven seals. The four living creatures
     of John’s vision, (chap. iv, 6, 7,) the lion, calf or ox, eagle,
     and man or angel, and the tetramorph figure of that of Ezekiel,
     (chap. i, ver. 10,) became symbols of the four evangelists, and
     also of Christ.

     In mediæval art uncouth and grotesque figures--“Gorgons and
     hydras and chimeras dire”--took the place of the bright and
     genial symbols of the Catacombs. To the terrified imagination of
     the age all nature swarmed with malignant and demoniac beings,
     which were bodied forth in the dragons and griffins, and
     monstrous forms and faces that haunt the gothic minsters and
     abbeys, especially in the northern countries of Europe, where the
     savageness of nature is reflected in the weirdness of art. Yet
     even in its distorted grotesqueness, this art proved its moral
     superiority to the gay and joyous spirit of heathenism. The
     intense consciousness of sin and evil, and of the mortal struggle
     of the human soul with the powers of darkness which it
     manifested, is essentially nobler than the frivolous sensualism
     of ancient art and life, without hope or fear of the future.

     [384] See Job xxx, 1; Psa. xxii, 16; Matt. vii, 6; Phil. iii, 2;
     Rev. xxii, 15.

     [385] Compare the prophecy of Belshazzar’s doom--Dan. v, 27. To
     this the weighing of the fates of Achilles and Hector in the
     Iliad is analogous. (McCaul, 49.) Several of these symbols are
     often associated together. Thus, on a slab bearing date A. D.
     400, are crowded the Constantinian monogram, the balance, mummy,
     candelabrum with seven lights, a house, and fish. On a marble
     ambo at Ravenna are six series, ten in each, of sheep, peacocks,
     doves, stags, ducks, and fishes. Whether symbolical or not, the
     selection is a remarkable parallel to many of the figures of the
     Catacombs.

     [386] Psa. xxiii.

     [387] Psa. lxxx, 1.

     [388] 1 Pet. ii, 25.

     [389] See Fig. 105.

     [390] Pausanias, lib. x.

     [391] Tibullus, _Eleg._, ii, 11, 12; Calpurn., _Eclog._, v, 39.

     [392] Isa. xl, 11.

     [393] Patrocinabitur Pastor, quem in calice depingitis. A
     parabolis licebit incipias, ubi est ovis perdita, a Domino
     requisita et humeris ejus revecta.--_De Pudicit._, ii and x.

     [394] The later Christian poets also celebrated this tender
     theme. In lines whose lyric cadence charm the ear like a
     shepherd’s pipe Thomas Aquinas sings:

           Bone Pastor, panis vere,
           Jesu, nostri miserere,
           Tu nos pasce, nos tuere;
           Tu nos bona fac videre,
             In terra viventium.

           Tu qui cuncta scis et vales,
           Qui nos pascis hic mortales
           Tuos ibi commensales
           Cohæredes et sodales
             Fac sanctorum civium.

     Another Mediæval hymn runs sweetly thus:

           Jesu dulcissime, e throno gloriæ
           Ovem deperditam venisti quærere!
           Jesu suavissime, pastor fidissime,
           Ad te O trahe me, ut semper sequar te!

     [395] In a distich accompanying an _Agnus Dei_ in the church
     of St. Pudentiana at Rome, both characters are ascribed to Our
     Lord:

           Hic agnus mundum restaurat sanguine lapsum,
           Mortuus et vivus idem sum, pastor et agnus.

     “This Lamb restores the lost world with his blood. Dead and
     living, I am but one; I am at once the Shepherd and the Lamb.”

     Paulinus beautifully says: “The same Lamb and Shepherd rules us
     in the world who from wolves has made us lambs. He is now the
     Shepherd of those sheep for whom he was once the victim
     Lamb.”--_Epis._ iii, _ad Florent_.

     [396] Isa. liii, 7.

     [397] John i, 19.

     [398] Rev. v, 6.

     [399] _Ibid._, v, 12.

     [400] “And I looked, and, lo, a Lamb stood on the Mount
     Sion.”--Rev. xiv, 1.

     [401] Paulinus thus describes a mosaic of this subject at Fondi,
     (_Epis._ xii, _ad Severum_:)

           Petram superstat, ipse petra ecclesiæ,
           Ex qua sonori quatuor fontes meant,
           Evangelistæ, viva Christi flumina.

     “Standing upon a rock is He who is himself the Rock of the
     church, and from this go forth four voiceful streams,
     evangelists, the living rivers of Christ.”

     The _Agnus Dei_ is still often seen on altar cloths and
     tombstones.

     [402] Et quia celsa (crux) quasi judex de rupe superstat,
           Bis geminæ pecudis discors agnis genus hædi
           Circumstant solium; lævos avertitur hædos
           Pastor et emeritos dextra complectitur agnos.
                             --_Epis._ xii, _ad Sulpic. Sever._

     [403] A. D. 234. De Rossi, _Inscript. Christ._, No. 6. (See
     Fig. 52.) Of course, there may have been many earlier whose
     precise date we cannot determine.

     [404] In later art, indeed, the figure sometimes occurs on
     baptismal fonts, in mosaics, and in architecture, but probably as
     a mere ornament, without any religious meaning. In Byzantine art
     it is unknown except as a natural representation, for example, of
     fish swimming in the water, or, in frescoes of the last judgment,
     as restoring human limbs which they had devoured, illustrative of
     the passage, “And the sea gave up the dead which were in
     it.”--Rev. xx, 13.

     [405] Piscis nomen, secundum appellationem Græcam, in uno nomine
     per singulas literas turbam sanctorum nominum continet ‘ΙΧΘΥΣ,’
     quod est Latinè, Jesus Christus, Dei Filius, Salvator.--Optat.,
     _Cont. Parmen._, lib. iii.

     [406] _Orat. Const. ad Coet. Sanct._, § 18.

     [407] _De Civ. Dei_, xviii, 23.

     [408] _Pædag._, lib. iii, cap. ii. The symbol also occurs in
     a Christian Catacomb at Alexandria, and at Cyrene, in Upper Egypt.

     [409] The Jewish Christians of that city would be already
     familiar with this mode of coining significant titles, which is
     illustrated in the name of their national heroes, the Maccabees,
     said to be made up of the initial letters, מָכָבִּי, of their
     battle cry, מִי־כָמֹכָה בָאֵלֹהים יְהֹוָה--“Who is like unto thee, O Lord,
     among the gods?”

     [410] Nos, pisciculi secundum ΙΧΘΥΝ nostrum Jesum Christum, in
     aqua nascimur, nec aliter quam in aqua permanendo salvi
     sumus.--_De Baptismo_, cap. i.

     [411] Hic (sc. Christus) est piscis qui in baptismate per
     invocationem fontalibus undis inseritur ut quæ aqua fuerat a
     pisce etiam piscina vocitetur.--_Epis. Milevitanus._ The
     _piscina_ is now the basin in which the sacred vessels are
     washed.

     [412] See chaps. vi and xi.

     [413] Est Christus piscis ille qui ad Tobiam ascendit de flumine
     vivus, cujus jecore per passionem assato fugatus est diabolus.

     [414] Dei Filius, Salvator, piscis in sua passione decoctus,
     cujus ex interioribus remediis quotidie illuminamur et
     pascimur.--_De Promis. et Prædic. Dei_, ii, 39.

     [415] ΙΧΘΥΣ, in quo nomine mystice intelligitur Christus, eo
     quod in hujus mortalitatis abysso, velut in aquarum profunditate
     vivus.--_De Civ. Dei._

     [416] Χριστὸς ὁ τροπικῶς λεγόμενος Ἰχθύς.--_Opp._ ed. Bened.,
     tom. iii, p. 584.

     [417] _Rom. Sott._, p. 210. Probably the aureole of Mediæval
     art derived its name of _vesica piscis_ from this symbol.

     [418] See Fig. 113.

     [419] See Fig. 118.

     [420] Piscis ... Christus tribulationis igne assatus. Compare the
     phrase of Augustine--Piscis assus Christus passus.

     [421] Plerique septiformis Spiritus gratiam in panibus definitam,
     in piscibus quoque duplicis testamenti figuram intelligendam
     putant.--Ambrose, _in Luc._ ix.

     [422] This has been minutely examined by Cardinal Pitra--its
     discoverer--Kirchoff, Garrucci, Le Blant, and other eminent
     scholars. The monograph of Marriott, its latest editor, is a
     masterpiece of epigraphical criticism.

     [423] Cardinal Pitra places it about A. D. 250, but the elongated
     form of the letters, of which there is no early example, forbids
     the supposition.

     [424] The epitaph of Abercius, a Phrygian bishop of the second
     century, also contains an allusion to the heavenly Ichthus, and
     probably to the eucharist, in the lines which we quote:

                               ... Πίστις δὲ προσῆγε
           Καὶ παρέθηκε τροφὴν, Ἰχθὺν θείας ἀπὸ πηγῆς,
           Παμμεγέθη, καθαρὸν, ὃν ἐδράξατο παρθένος ἁγνή·
           Καὶ τοῦτον ἐπέδωκε φίλοις ἔσθειν διὰ παντὸς,
           Οἶνον χρηστὸν ἔχουσα, κέρασμα διδοῦσα μετ’ἄρτου.

     “Faith brought to us and set before us food, a fish from a divine
     fount, great and clean, which the holy maiden took in her hand
     and gave it to her friends, that they should always eat thereof,
     holding goodly wine, giving with bread a mingled drink.”

     The “holy maiden” is evidently, from the context, as Marriott
     remarks, Faith personified, although Padre Garrucci and Dr.
     Northcote regard her as no other than the Virgin Mary.

     [425] We have seen how Tertullian designates believers as little
     fishes--_pisciculi_.

     [426] Nomen ipsum crucis absit non modo a corpore civium
     Romanorum, sed etiam a cogitatione, oculis, auribus.--Cicero,
     _pro Rabirio_.

     [427] Crudelissimum et teterrimum ... arbor infelix, infame
     lignum.--Cic., _pro Rabirio_.

     [428] Now in the Museum of the Collegio Romano.

     [429] Τὸν ἀνεσκολοπισμένον ἐκεῖνον σοφιστήν.--_De Morte Peregr._

     Tertullian mentions as a common heathen delusion the idea that
     the God of the Christians had an ass’s head. He also speaks of a
     heathen picture of a figure having the ears of an ass, hoofed in
     one foot, carrying a book and wearing a toga, to which was
     affixed the inscription, “The God of the Christians, born of an
     ass.”--_Apol._, c. 16.

     Probably such caricatures were common. On a slab recently
     discovered in the Vigna Nussiner is a representation of an ass
     with the inscription, “Hic est Deus Hadriani,” apparently a
     satirical allusion to that emperor’s favourable disposition to
     Christianity.

     [430] Eph. iii, 18.

     [431] Ipsa species crucis quid est nisi forma quadrata mundi?...
     Aves quando volant in æthera, formam crucis assumunt; homo natans
     per aquas, vel orans, forma crucis vehitur. Navis per maria
     antenna cruci similata sufflatur.--Hieronym. _in Mark_ XV.

     [432] _Apol._, i, 72. See also Minuc. Felix, cap. 29.

     [433] Ego Christianus ... et vexillum crucis in mea fronte
     portans.--Hieron., _Ep._ 113.

     [434] Tolle crucem qui vis auferre coronam.

     [435] Crucis religiosi.--Tertul., _Apol._, 16.

     [436] Signum Christi, τὸ κυριακὸν σημεῖον.--Clem. Alex.,
     _Strom._, vi, 11.

     [437] Ad omnem progressum atque promotum, ad omnem aditum et
     exitum, ad vestitum, ad calceatum, ad lavacra, ad mensas, ad
     lumina, ad cubilia, ad sedilia, quæcunque nos conversatio
     exercet, frontem crucis signaculo tenemus.--Tertul., _de Coron.
     Mil._, c. iii.

     [438] Crucis signum est, cum homo porrectis manibus Deum pura
     mente veneratur.--Minuc., _Dial._, p. 90. Expansis manibus in
     modum crucis orabat.--Paulin., _Vit. Ambros._, p. 12. Hic
     habitus orantium est, ut manibus in coelum extensis
     precemur.--Apuleius.--According to Eusebius, Constantine was thus
     represented on the coins of the empire.--Ὡς ἄνω βλέπειν δοκεῖν
     ἀνατεταμένος πρὸς Θεὸν, τρόπον εὐχομένου.--_Vit. Const._, l. iv,
     c. 15.

     [439] Chrys. in Psa. cxli, 2. Compare Paul’s expression about
     “lifting up holy hands” in prayer.--1 Tim. ii, 8.

     [440] Nos vero non attoleimus tantum, sed etiam expandimus,
     et Dominica passione modulantes, et orantes Christo
     confitemur.--Tertul., _de Orat._, c. 11. Τὸ τοῦ σταύρου πάθος
     ἐν τῷ σχήματι ἐξεικονίζει.--Aster., _ap. Phot._, cod. 271. This
     attitude of prayer was also common to the pagans in their
     addresses to the _Dii Superi_, or celestial gods. Hence Virgil
     represents Æneas as praying with his hands stretched out to
     heaven--Duplices tendens ad sidera palmas.

     [441] See an instance of this miracle recorded in
     Eusebius.--_Hist. Eccles._, viii, 7.

     [442] Fac cum vocante somno
             Castum petes cubile,
             Frontem locumque cordis,
             Crucis figura signet.
           Crux pellit omne noxium.--_Hymn_ VI.

     [443] Endelechius, _De mortibus Bovium_. In later times the
     sign of the cross was used in both Greek and Latin benedictions,
     which were given with many puerile distinctions, and with much
     supposed spiritual benefit.--See Didron, _Iconog. Chrét._,
     pp. 406-410. The cross has also given the name to many famous
     churches, which were frequently cruciform in shape. In France are
     over a score of cathedrals or abbeys named Sainte Croix, and in
     Italy many named Santa Croce. In Great Britain we have Saint
     Cross at Winchester, and Holyrood in Edinburgh. The cross was
     also used to mark boundaries, parishes, cross roads; hence the
     phrase, “to beg like a cripple at a cross.” Of three hundred and
     sixty wayside crosses once existing in Iona only one remains.
     This sign was used to mark the beginning and end of books, and as
     a mark of punctuation. It gave validity to legal documents, and
     still accompanies the sign manual of ecclesiastical dignitaries.

     Crucifixion was abolished by Constantine out of reverence for the
     manner of Our Lord’s death.

     The cross would scarcely have been publicly employed while this
     shameful mode of punishment was practiced. The earlier examples
     had probably a baptismal signification as a sign of the faith. Of
     this character seem to have been those erected or inlaid by
     Constantine in his baptisteries and elsewhere. Only by slow
     degrees did it become the symbol of the sufferings of Christ.

     [444] De Rossi, _Inscript. Christ._, No. 39.

     [445] _Ibid._, No. 17.

     [446] _Ibid._, No. 26. With true archæological enthusiasm, De
     Rossi exclaims, “Scarcely any monument in this whole class is
     worthy of such observation as this sepulchral fragment. For if
     indeed this name is that of Gallus, the colleague of Faustus,
     behold, what I have ever intensely desired, I have at length with
     joy obtained--to see with my own eyes a certain dated monument
     which exhibits the celebrated monogram ☧ before the year 312.
     Would that I could find the part of the inscription that is
     lost,” he adds, “which, if it bore the name of Faustus, I would
     esteem more precious than gold and gems--auro contra et gemmis
     cariorem æstimarem.” But he was not permitted to be so happy, and
     it is probable that the Gallus referred to is another of much
     later date.

     [447] Rev. i, 8. Prudentius in his ninth hymn paraphrases the
     same thought:
          Alpha et Ω cognominatus; ipse fons et clausula
          Omnium quæ sunt, fuerunt, quæque post futura sunt.

     In Mediæval art the letters ὁ ὤν are often inscribed on the
     cruciform nimbus indicating Our Lord, in allusion to the
     scripture, ἐγὼ εἰμὶ ὁ ὤν--“I am that I am.”

     [448]  Christus purpureum gemmanti textus in auro,
            Signabat labarum, clypeorum insignia Christus
            Scripserat: ardebat summis crux addita cristis.
                                      --_In Symmachum_, vv. 487-489.

     [449] _Hist. of Christianity_, bk. iii, chap. i. From the
     time of Constantine the monogram became common on the coins of
     the Empire. Valentinian III. and his wife Eudoxia first wore it
     on the imperial crown. In later Greek art the cross is generally
     accompanied by the letters ΙϹ-ΧϹ ΝΙΚΑ, that is, “Jesus Christ is
     conqueror.” Eusebius describes a statue of Constantine at Rome
     bearing this monogram. (_Hist. Eccles._, ix, 9.)

     [450] See Fig. 104, chap. iv. Paulinus refers to the bitter cross
     surrounded by a flowery crown:
              Ardua floriferæ Crux cingitur orbe coronæ.
                                           --Epis. xii, _ad Severum_.

     [451] De Rossi, _Inscrip. Christ._, No. 576. Of course there
     may be earlier examples which are undated.

     [452] In later art ingenuity was exhausted in multiplying
     varieties of the form of the cross. Besides the ordinary Greek
     and Latin types, there was the Resurrection cross, a reed-like
     shaft with a small crosslet, generally bearing a banneret; the
     Calvary cross, with steps at its foot; the _crux gammata_, or
     fourfold repetition of the Greek letter Γ, the _crux
     gemmata_, _stellata_, _florida_, etc. There were also innumerable
     minor varieties for which distinguishing names are provided in
     the jargon of heraldry.

     [453] _Hist. Christianity_, iii, 3. Eusebius is silent
     concerning this event.

     [454] Helena calmed the Adriatic with one of the nails; of
     another Constantine made a bit for his horse; a portion is
     annually exhibited at Rome bearing the threefold title of Our
     Lord in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, the first undecipherable.

     [455] Witness the following from the _Vexilla Regis_, addressed
     to the material cross: “Hail, O cross, our only hope! give grace
     to the pious, blot out the sins of the wicked”--

              O crux, ave, spes unica!
              Piis adauge gratiam;
              Reisque dele crimina.

     Compare also the following, from the Office of the Invention of
     the Cross: “O cross, more splendid than all the stars,... which
     alone wast worthy to bear the ransom of the world! sweet wood,
     sacred nails, bearing so precious a burden, save this people
     assembled to-day to sing thy praises.”--O Crux, splendidior
     cunctis astris,... quæ sola fuisti digna portare talentum mundi!
     dulce lignum, dulces clavos, dulcia ferens pondera, salva
     præsentem catervam in tuis hodie laudibus congregatam.

     This sacred theme has also been the subject of some of the
     noblest lyrics of the church, none of which, however, surpass the
     impassioned devotion of the following lines of Savonarola, the
     Luther of Italy, whose reform, alas! was quenched in his own
     blood.

                   O croce, fammi loco!
                   E le mie membre prendi!
                   Che del tuo dolce foco
                   Il cor e l’alma accendi!
                   La croce e l’ crocifisso,
                   Sia nel mio cor scolpito,
                   Ed io sia sempre affisso
                   In gloria ov’egli è ito!

                 Cross of my Lord, give room! give room!
                   To thee my flesh be given!
                 Cleansed in thy fires of love and praise,
                   My soul, rise pure to heaven!
                 Ah! vanish each unworthy trace
                   Of earthly care or pride;
                 Leave only graven on my heart
                   The Cross, the Crucified.

     [456] According to this legend Adam when sick sent Seth to the
     gate of Eden to ask for the healing balm of the tree of life, but
     the guarding angel replied that ages must pass before that boon
     could be conferred on man. Seth received, however, three seeds,
     which he planted by his father’s grave, situated on the site of
     Golgotha. From these sprang the rod of Aaron, and the tree which
     gave its mysterious virtue to the Pool of Bethesda, and rising to
     the surface at the hour of the passion, became the instrument of
     the crucifixion of Our Lord. After that momentous event it was
     thrown into the town ditch with the crosses of the two thieves,
     and covered with rubbish; but at the intercession of Helena the
     earth opened, divine odours breathed forth, the three crosses
     were discovered, and that of Our Lord was revealed by its curing
     an inveterate disease and raising a dead man to life. See also
     _Legenda Aurea, De Inventione et Exaltatione Sanctæ Crucis_.

     The material of the cross is described in the following distich:

          Pes crucis est cedrus, corpus tenet alta cupressus,
          Palma manus retinet titulo lætabor oliva--

     “The foot is cedar, a lofty cypress bears the body, the arms are
     palm, the title olive bears.”

     [457] Milman, _Hist. Christianity_, bk. iv, c. 4.

     [458] _Hist. Christianity_, bk. iv, c. 4. One or two apparent
     exceptions, as in the semi-subterranean chapel annexed to the
     church of St. Sebastian, by their internal evidence--the drooping
     head, severe expression, and degraded art--indicate their late
     origin, Perret thinks of the twelfth or thirteenth century.
     Bottari figures one (Tav. 190) which may possibly belong to the
     seventh or eighth century.

     [459] Cant. iii, 11.

     [460] Northcote’s “_Catacombs_,” p. 130.

     [461] Weiter aber geht diese Reihe nicht; Tod und Auferstehung
     Christi sind in diesem Bereich gar nicht zur Darstellung
     gekommen.--_Ueber den Christlichen Bilderkreis_, p. 7. Berlin,
     1852. Bishop Münter, indeed, asserts that, although it is
     impossible precisely to determine the first appearance of the
     crucifix, before the end of the seventh century the church knew
     nothing of them--Es ist unmöglich das alter der crucifixe genau
     zu bestimmen. Vor dem Ende des siebenten Jahrhunderts kannte die
     Kirche sie nicht.--_Sinnbilder_, etc., p. 77.

     [462] Sub cruce sanguineâ niveo stat Christus in agno.--_Epis._
     xxxii.

     [463] Agnus ut innocua injusto datur hostia letho.--Paulin.,
     _Epis._ xxxii.

     [464] Christi Dei nostri humana forma characterem etiam in
     imaginibus deinceps pro veteri agno erigi ac depingi
     jubemus.--_Concilium Quinisextum_, Canon 82.

     [465] Das sind die ältesten Bilder von dem Ende des irdischen
     Lebens Jesu und seiner Erhöhung.... Bald darauf kommen sie hin
     und wieder auch in Abendlande vor.--_Ueber den Christlichen
     Bilderkreis_, pp. 26, 27.

     [466] Est et apud Narbonensem urbem pictura quæ Dominum nostrum
     quasi præcinctum linteo indicat crucifixum.--_De Glor. Mar._,
     i, 23.

     [467] Crux benedicta nitet Dominus qua carne pependit.--_Carm._,
     lib. ii, 3.

     [468] The earliest example of a dead Christ is in a MS. of date
     A. D. 1059. The oldest mural picture of this awful theme, now so
     common throughout Roman Catholic Christendom, and which was
     prescribed as necessary for every altar by Benedict XIV, 1754, is
     the Church of Urban at Rome, and bears the date A. X. R. I.
     MXI.--Anno Christi 1011. Few of those in the Italian churches are
     older than the fourteenth century.

     [469] The inclination of the apse from the axial line in some
     churches is said to represent this drooping of the head.

     [470] Didron, _Iconog. Chrét._, pp. 226, 505.

     [471] Die also dem Morgenlande entstammen, says Professor
     Piper.--_Ueber den Christlichen Bilderkreis_, p. 27.

     [472] The Council of Constantinople, A. D. 754.

     [473] Hemans, _Sacred Art in Italy_, p. 534.

     [474] See the reliefs upon the marble pulpits of Pisa and Sienna.

     [475] See one at Lucca, ascribed by tradition to the workmanship
     of Nicodemus, which was so famous as to be sworn by in the oath,
     a favourite one with the Plantagenet kings, “by Saint Vult of
     Lucca.” Hemans, _Sac. Art_, p. 534. Another at Naples is said to
     have spoken in approval to St. Thomas Aquinas. Perhaps the most
     revolting extant representation of Our Lord is one in the
     Cathedral of Burgos, in Spain. It is a stuffed human skin, with a
     wig of false hair and a crown of real thorns. Elsewhere are Ecce
     Homos in wax with enamel eyes, and other puerile and unartistic
     modes of treatment of this solemn theme.

     [476] Refrigerante mundo, says the Roman office for St. Francis’
     day.

                            CHAPTER III.                                 282

                THE BIBLICAL CYCLE OF THE CATACOMBS.

The “Circlo Biblico,” or Biblical Cycle, of the Catacombs, as De Rossi
has called it, partakes of the same symbolical character as their
other art-creations. It has, for the most part, a twofold object:
first, the literal presentation of certain historical events; and,
second, a typical or allegorical reference to the spiritual truths of
Christianity, especially to the cardinal doctrines of the sacrifice,
resurrection, and ascension of Our Lord. The range of this art cycle
comprehends the grand drama of redemption, from the fall of man to his
restoration through the greater Man, Christ Jesus; with the careful
avoidance, however, of the scenes of the passion, which are nowhere
exhibited except under the veil of allegory or symbol. These numerous
and varied biblical representations imply a remarkable familiarity of
the primitive Christians with the holy scriptures, in striking
contrast with the prevalent ignorance of these sacred books in the
papal Rome of to-day. Indeed, these storied crypts must have been a
grand illustrated gospel, impressing upon the mind of the believer the
lessons of holy writ, and probably furnishing to the catechumens of
the faith and recent converts from paganism a means of instruction in
these sacred themes. The execution may often be coarse, and the
drawing uncouth; but to the devout mind this primitive Christian art
is invested with a profounder interest than all the triumphs of          283
genius in the galleries of the Vatican.[477]

In consequence of its symbolical purpose this hieratic series is
rather eclectic than cyclopædic in its character. Of the great variety
of available topics, the number selected for art-presentation was
comparatively limited; and the artist, in the treatment of these,
frequently contented himself with the constant and unvaried
reiteration of the same types, which were often of the rudest and most
conventional form. “The incidents that exemplified the leading
doctrines of the faith,” says Kugler,[478] “were chosen in preference
to others.” Hence the very fixedness of these doctrines imparted
somewhat of their own character to the pictorial representations
employed.

Subjects from the Old Testament are more numerous in proportion to the
whole than would have been anticipated. This is also a result and
illustration of the allegorical nature of the series. “Rome,” says
Lord Lindsay, “seems to have adopted from the first, and steadily
adhered to, a system of typical parallelism--of veiling the great
incidents of redemption, and the sufferings, faith, and hopes of the
church under the parallel and typical events of the patriarchal and
Jewish dispensations.”[479] We can refer in detail to only the more
striking of these biblical scenes. For convenience of treatment we       284
will include here those sculptured on the sarcophagi as well as those
painted on the walls. The temptation and fall of our first parents is
a frequent subject, and meets with considerable variety of
treatment.[480] They are generally shown as standing by the tree of
knowledge, around which the serpent coils, and receiving from him the
fruit
                              “Whose mortal taste
     Brought death into the world and all our woe.”

In the following example from the Catacomb of Callixtus, the fig-leaf
aprons with which they try to hide their guilty shame indicate that
the act of disobedience has been already consummated.

  [Illustration: Fig. 62.--The Temptation and Fall.]

On a sarcophagus in the Lateran Museum is a bas relief in which Our      285
Lord, as the representative of the Eternal Father, is seen standing
between Adam and Eve, and giving to the former a sheaf of grain, the
symbol that by the sweat of his brow he should eat bread, and to the
latter a lamb, that she may work diligently with her hands in the
domestic employment of spinning--the allotted labour of woman in every
age. Perhaps, also, as Dr. Northcote suggests, the lamb was a symbol
and mute prophecy of “the Lamb of God whom the second Eve was to bring
forth to atone for all the evil that the first Eve had brought upon
mankind.”

  [Illustration: Fig. 63.--Adam and Eve Receiving their Sentence.]

On another sarcophagus in the same museum is a bas relief of Cain and
Abel offering their respective sacrifices of the fruits of the ground
and the firstlings of the flock. This subject, however, is exceedingly
rare in the Catacombs.

One of the most frequently recurring figures in this series is that of   286
Noah in the ark. This is always repeated in one unvarying phase of the
most jejune and meagre character. There is no attempt at historical
representation of the actual scenes of the deluge. Instead of a huge
vessel riding upon the waves, with its vast and varied living freight,
there is only a small pulpit-like enclosure,[481] in which Noah stands
and receives in his hand the returning dove with the olive branch in
its mouth. The following engraving, which, although apparently out of
perspective, is an accurate copy of a painting in the Catacomb of
Callixtus, is a characteristic example.

  [Illustration: Fig. 64.--Noah in the Ark.]

Occasionally the position of the patriarch is slightly altered, as in
Fig. 65, from the Catacomb of St. Priscilla; but this is all the         287
variety of treatment of which the artistic genius of the age seemed
capable.

In the bas reliefs the treatment of this subject exhibits a still
greater degree of degradation and constraint, as in the following
examples from Christian sarcophagi of the fourth century.

  [Illustration: Fig. 65.--Noah in the Ark.]

Sometimes the figure ludicrously resembles the toy called “Jack in a
box,” which resemblance is heightened by the lid being half open and a
lock being carved on the front.

  [Illustration: Fig. 66.--Noah in the Ark.]

This rude representation, however, was regarded, in accordance with
the exposition of St. Peter,[482] as a symbol of Christian baptism;      288
while the ark was the figure of Christ’s church, in which believers
“may so pass the waves of this troublesome world that finally they may
come to the land of everlasting life.” The dove and olive branch may
further imply, that the weary soul, being justified by faith, found
peace with God and entered into endless rest.[483]

  [Illustration: Fig. 67.--Apamean Medal.]

Another favourite subject of the early Christian artists was the
sacrifice of Isaac, an appropriate type of the greater sacrifice to be
offered up when, in the fulness of the time, God should provide
himself a lamb for an offering. From this theme the persecuted
Christians doubtless often derived spiritual comfort amid the fiery
trials of their faith to which they were exposed. It taught also the
duty of self-consecration. “May I, like the youthful Isaac,” says
Paulinus, “be offered to God a living sacrifice, and, bearing my wood,
follow my Holy Father beneath the cross.”[484] This subject is
repeated, with considerable variety of treatment, both in frescoes and
in sculpture. In Fig. 68, from the cemetery of St. Priscilla, Isaac is
seen bearing the wood for the sacrifice. In Fig. 69, from the Catacomb   289
of Marcellinus, he is already bound, and Abraham has stretched forth
his hand to slay his son, while the divinely substituted lamb appears
from behind the altar.

  [Illustration: Fig. 68.--The Sacrifice of Isaac.]

  [Illustration: Fig. 69.--The Sacrifice of Isaac.]

In several examples a hand stretched forth from on high seizes the
knife to prevent the consummation of the sacrifice. (See Fig. 107.) It
is recorded that Gregory of Nyssa frequently shed tears on reading
this pathetic story.

Joseph, sold by his brethren and afterward saving them alive, was a
striking type of Him who redeemed with his own blood the guilty race     290
which caused his death. It is, therefore, a subject that appears with
peculiar propriety among the tombs of the primitive Christians.

Several scenes from the life of Moses are delineated in this biblical
cycle. One of these, as sometimes treated, for classic grace and
dignity reminds one of some noble antique. It is Moses on Mount Horeb
putting off his shoes from his feet. This act is interpreted by some
of the Christian Fathers[485] as an emblem of the renunciation of the
world, the flesh, and the devil demanded of the servants of Christ.
The accompanying example, Fig. 70, is from the cemetery of Callixtus.

  [Illustration: Fig. 70.--Moses on Mount Horeb.]

  [Illustration: Fig. 71.--Moses Receiving the Law.]

Fig. 71, from a sarcophagus in the Lateran, represents Moses on Mount
Sinai receiving from the hand of God the law, which was to be the
schoolmaster to bring men to Christ. Moses is sometimes exhibited,       291
also, as breaking the tables of the law on his descent from the mount.

  [Illustration: Fig. 72.--Moses and the Baskets of Manna.]

  [Illustration: Fig. 73.--Moses Striking the Rock.]

In the Catacomb of St. Cyriaca is a unique picture of the descent of
the manna--the emblem of the “True Bread which came down from heaven.”
It is seen falling in a copious shower, and gathered in the vestments
of four Israelites. According to Martigny the accompanying engraving,
Fig. 72, from the Catacomb of St. Priscilla, and another in the
Callixtan Catacomb, represent Moses standing among the baskets of
manna gathered in the wilderness. But for the severe and aged
expression of countenance, so different from the youthful aspect of
Our Lord in the frescoes of the Catacombs, they might be taken for
pictures of Christ and the seven baskets of fragments left after
feeding the multitude.

More frequently recurring than any other scene in the history of Moses   292
is that of his striking water from the rock, an emblem of the
spiritual blessings flowing to the church through the sufferings of
the Messiah, “For they drank of that spiritual Rock which followed
them; and that Rock was Christ.”[486] The illustration in Fig. 73 is