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]
[Illustration:
☧ 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
taken from a sarcophagus found in the cemetery of St. Agnes. That in
Fig. 74 is from a fresco of earlier date in the Catacomb of
Marcellinus.
[Illustration: Fig. 74.--Moses Striking the Rock.]
In two or three of the gilded glasses to be hereafter mentioned, which
are of comparatively late date, this scene is rudely indicated, and
over the head or at the side of the figure is the word PETRVS
or Peter. From this circumstance Roman Catholic writers have asserted
that in many of the sarcophagal and other representations of this
event it is no longer Moses but Peter, “the leader of the new Israel
of God,” who is striking the rock with the emblem of divine power--a
conclusion for which there is absolutely no evidence except the very 293
trivial fact above mentioned.[487]
The sufferings of the patriarch Job form the subject of a few of these
scriptural illustrations. In the accompanying illustration, taken from
the cemetery of Marcellinus, he is seen sitting in his sorrow and
bemoaning the day that gave him birth. Amid their fiery trials of
persecution the primitive Christians doubtless often found comfort in
contrasting their sufferings with the still more terrible afflictions
of the patriarch of Uz.
[Illustration: Fig. 75.--The Sufferings of Job.]
The sarcophagus of Junius Bassus exhibits a bas relief of Job
comforted by his friends. The complaint of the patriarch that even his
wife had abhorred his breath--so reads the Vulgate translation of
Jerome, which was in use at this period--is grotesquely illustrated
by a female figure, who holds a handkerchief to her nose.[488] 294
The victory of the stripling David over the great champion of the
enemies of Israel seemed strikingly to prefigure the triumph of
primitive Christianity over the colossal paganism to which it was
opposed. It was also the symbol of the victory of Our Lord over a
mightier foe than the insolent Philistine; and by some of the Fathers
the stones and sling of the Jewish shepherd-lad were likened to the
cross of Christ, by which Satan is vanquished and his kingdom
overthrown. The devout monarch of Israel was also a recognized type of
Him who was the root and the offspring of David, who should inherit
his throne, and reign over the house of Jacob forever.
The translation of Elijah was frequently depicted as being typical of
the ascension of Our Lord, which was regarded as too sacred a theme
for direct presentment in art. The chariot generally resembles the
classic _quadriga_. In a sarcophagal example in the Lateran
Museum Elisha is represented as reverently receiving the mantle of
Elijah, the emblem of the double measure of his spirit that rested
upon him. In the background two sons of the prophets gaze with
apparent astonishment on the scene. Two bears, which are also
indicated, are probably intended for those that devoured the children
who mocked the prophet Elisha on his way to Bethel.
[Illustration: Fig. 76.--The Translation of Elijah.] 295
In Fig. 76, from a fresco of earlier date in the Catacomb of
Callixtus, it will be seen that graves have been made in the back of
the _arcosolium_, cutting off the head of Elijah and the feet of
the two lower figures.
According to the strained mode of interpretation of Roman Catholic
writers on this subject, the gift of the mantle of Elijah to his
successor in office is a type of Christ’s bestowment of authority upon
St. Peter as the “Prince of the Apostles,” and his especial
representative on earth. “It would certainly,” says Dr. Northcote,
“have reminded the Roman Christians of the _pallium_, the symbol
of jurisdiction worn by the bishops of Rome, and given by them to
metropolitans as from the very body of St. Peter--_De Corpore Sancti
Petri_.”[489] A more improbable assumption it would be difficult to 296
imagine. Nobler in conception, which, as well as more scriptural, is
the interpretation of this type given by St. Chrysostom: “Elias, in
ascending into heaven, let his mantle fall on Elisha: Jesus, when he,
too, ascended thither, left the gift of his graces to his
disciples--graces which constitute not merely a single prophet, but an
infinite number of Elishas, much greater and more illustrious than
that one.”[490]
[Illustration: Fig. 77.--The Three Hebrew Children.]
The persecuted saints who dared to encounter death and danger in their
most dreadful forms rather than deny their faith, found great
consolation in the remembrance of God’s deliverance of his servants in
the days of old. With the bloodthirsty cry of the ribald plebs of
Rome--_Christiani ad leones_--still ringing in their ears, and,
it may be, with the roar of the savage beasts of prey crashing on
their shuddering nerves, they were sustained by the thought of the
fidelity of those ancient worthies who, for their integrity to God,
braved the flames of the fiery furnace and the perils of the lions’
den. The three Hebrew children are generally exhibited with the
oriental _tiara_ and tunics. In the foregoing example from the 297
cemetery of St. Priscilla, a dove is shown bringing an olive branch,
the pledge of victory and peace.
[Illustration: Fig. 78.--The Three Hebrew Children.]
In Fig. 78, from the cemetery of Hermes, they are shown as standing in
a “burning fiery furnace,” whose flames, though heated seven times
hotter than their wont, play lambently around them without even
singeing their garments.
In the following example from the Catacomb of St. Agnes the furnace is
reduced to a shallow vessel in which the Hebrews stand unhurt. This
has been incorrectly interpreted as a representation of martyrdom by
boiling in oil. Its association, however, with the figure of Daniel in
the lions’ den, and its general resemblance to other groups of the
same subject, unquestionably indicate its true character. 298
[Illustration: Fig. 79.--The Three Hebrew Children.]
In all these the expression of countenance and attitude of the
immortal three--more dauntless than even the brave Horatii of classic
story--as they stand calmly amid the flames, indicates the presence
with them in their fiery trial of the Almighty Deliverer of his
saints. It is noteworthy, however, that the fourth figure, “like the
Son of God,” is never shown in these groups. It was reserved, as will
be hereafter seen, for mediæval art to attempt the representation of
the Divine.
The faith and heroism of many of the primitive Christians in refusing
to burn incense on the heathen altars, or to salute the statues of the
Cæsars, was no unworthy imitation of the fidelity of these Hebrew
youths in refusing to worship the great golden image set up on the
plains of Dura.
Daniel in the den is generally represented by a nude figure standing
between two lions, with his hands stretched out as if in supplication,
and thereby, says St. Gregory, conquering the lions by prayer. While,
generally, the type of the deliverance of God’s people, it may
sometimes by association have been a memorial of the Christian martyrs
devoured by wild beasts in the neighbouring Coliseum, whose sands were
so often drenched with their gore. The following fresco from the
Catacomb of St. Priscilla is a characteristic example. See Fig. 80.
Sometimes another figure, interpreted as “the prophet Habaccuc,” is
depicted as borne by an angel by the hair of the head and offering 299
food to Daniel, as described in the apocryphal story of Bel and the
Dragon. Another fresco represents Daniel as giving to the monster the
cake which he had prepared for its destruction. The story of Tobias
and the fish, and of Susanna and the elders, are also illustrated in
this remarkable series of paintings. These last are of interest as
indicating a familiar acquaintance with the apocryphal books in the
early centuries. Figures interpreted as Isaiah, who seems, like the
Magi, to come from afar to lay his gifts at the feet of Christ, and as
Ezekiel in the valley of dry bones, also occur in the Catacombs.
[Illustration: Fig. 80.--Daniel in the Lions’ Den.]
One of the most common, and, if we may judge from the style of
execution, one of the favourite subjects of mural and sarcophagal
presentation in this biblical cycle, is the history of Jonah. It is
repeated over and over again with a high degree of picturesqueness,
and with greater variety of treatment than, perhaps, any other. It
appears also on lamps, vases, medals, gilt glasses, and funeral slabs. 300
The story is generally represented in a series of four scenes: the
storm, and the monster of the deep swallowing the prophet; his
deliverance from its horrid jaws, and restoration to land; his
reclining under the shadow of the gourd for refreshment and rest; and
his gloom and anger when the gourd has withered away and he lies in
his misery beneath the burning sun. Sometimes the four scenes occupy
the four walls of the _cubiculum_, or the compartments of a
vaulted ceiling; or only two may be exhibited, as in the engraving on
the opposite page, from the cemetery of St. Priscilla, in which Jonah
is portrayed as a child issuing from the mouth of the sea-monster, and
afterward reclining under the booth.
Sometimes the whole history is compressed into one crowded scene, as
in the following example. (Fig. 81.) The character of the little bark
is much like that seen in pagan frescoes.
[Illustration: Fig. 81.--The History of Jonah.]
[Illustration: Fig. 82.--Jonah, Moses, and Oranti.] 301
In some instances the “ship” is reduced to a mere boat, and the 302
“mariners” to a single individual, as in Fig. 83, from the cemetery of
St. Priscilla.
[Illustration: Fig. 83.--Jonah Swallowed by the “Great Fish.”]
In the following sarcophagal example, (Fig. 84,) the somewhat
startling anachronism of Noah receiving the dove from the prow of
Jonah’s vessel appears in the background. The “sea” is here a narrow
stream; and the “fish,” a monster with the head and paws of a
quadruped, on one side of the boat is swallowing the disobedient 303
prophet, and on the other is casting him forth upon the rocky shores.
Such solecisms are by no means uncommon in these groups.
[Illustration: Fig. 84.--Noah and Jonah.]
On another sarcophagus in the Lateran Museum the influence of pagan
thought may be observed. The storm is personified by a triton blowing
through a convoluted shell, and Iris, hovering with floating scarf
above the vessel, indicates the calm which followed the casting out of
the prophet.
The “great fish” in these scenes bears no resemblance to any living
thing. It is generally a monster with contorted body, a long neck and
large head, sometimes armed with horns, (see Figs. 81, 82,) probably
to distinguish it from the symbolical fish, the emblem of Our Lord, or
as a type of “the old serpent, the devil.” The form may have been
derived from the mythological representations of the marine monster
from whose jaws Andromeda was rescued by Perseus. The latter story,
like that of Deucalion and many others in the Greek mythology,
probably had its origin in holy scripture.
This subject was naturally dear to the early Christians, inasmuch as
it was set forth by Our Lord himself as a type of his own resurrection
and that of his disciples. Therefore as the persecuted believers met
in those solemn and silent chambers of the dead, they inscribed on the
sepulchral slabs which hid the mouldering dust of the departed from
their view, or on the walls of the _cubicula_ in which they
worshipped, this symbol of faith and hope in the glorious
resurrection. It also conveyed a lesson of sublimest meaning to the
primitive Christians, called to be witnesses for God in a city greater
and more wicked and idolatrous than even Nineveh. It was a potent
incentive to fidelity even unto death. The storm-tossed bark, the 304
ravening monster, and the prophet’s booth and gourd, were the types of
life’s rough voyage, the yawning grave, and the speedy transit to the
bowers of everlasting bliss and the refreshing fruits of the tree of
life.
A long and acrimonious controversy was waged between Jerome and
Augustine as to the nature of the plant which overshadowed the
prophet. Jerome called it ivy; but Augustine retained the word gourd
of the older Italic version, and excluded from his diocese of Hippo
the Vulgate version of Jerome containing the obnoxious translation. It
is a curious commentary on an ancient dispute in the church, and a
proof of the antiquity of the Catacombs, that their frescoes seem to
have followed the older version, and to have given their testimony
against the _innovation_ of Jerome. See Fig. 85, a copy of a
broken sepulchral slab, in which the prophet’s booth is reduced to a
single branch of a gourd.
[Illustration: Fig. 85.--Jonah’s Gourd.]
Here ends this Old Testament cycle, so rich in holy teaching, all
whose types and symbols point to the great Antitype of whom Moses and
the prophets spake. The New Testament series will in like manner be
found to cluster around the person and work of the Redeemer; to the 305
exclusion, however, of the solemn scenes of the transfiguration, the
passion, resurrection, and ascension, which are the principal themes
of later religious art; and without the slightest indication of that
idolatrous veneration of Mary which is the chief feature of modern
Romanism, thus showing how far that church has departed from the usage
of apostolic times.
The first subject of this New Testament cycle is the manifestation of
Our Lord to the Magi by the star in the east, the sign that the Bright
and Morning Star had risen upon the world.[491] Over twenty
repetitions of this scene are found in the Catacombs.
The following sarcophagal example, from the Catacomb of Callixtus,
represents the Magi bearing their gifts, and led by the star to the
place where the young child lay. The babe is seen wrapped in
swaddling-clothes and lying in a manger. An ox and an ass stand near
the divine child, probably in fanciful allusion to that scripture,
“The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s crib;” as well as
in historical illustration of the scene. Joseph and Mary appear in the 306
background as mere accessories of the group.
[Illustration: Fig. 86.--The Adoration of the Magi.]
[Illustration: Fig. 87.--Adoration of the Magi.]
In the accompanying engraving of a fresco in the cemetery of St.
Marcellinus the virgin mother is represented as seated in the calm
attitude and dress of a Roman matron, holding the infant Christ in her
arms, but not in the least suggesting the modern Madonna.[492] The
Magi bring their offerings as the first-fruits of the homage of the
world. Sometimes the number is increased to four or reduced to two, in
which case they are arranged on either side of the Virgin, to preserve
the balance and symmetry of the picture.[493] The figure of Joseph
sometimes completes the group, but generally as a young and beardless 307
man, in contradiction to the Romish tradition of his old age, derived
from the apocryphal gospels. These legends supply the theme of much of
the religious art of the fifth and following centuries; but Dr.
Northcote admits that “before that time Christian artists seem
strictly to have been kept within the limits of the canonical books of
the holy scripture.”[494]
A fresco in the Catacomb of Nereus and Achilles, attributed to the
second century, is supposed to be the oldest extant art-presentation
of the Virgin Mary. In these early pictures she is generally exhibited
as veiled, and expressing dignity and modesty in her attitude and 308
dress, and only in her historical relation to the divine child. Not
till later does she appear alone, or even as the principal figure. Dr.
Northcote, indeed, cites one example apparently of Joseph,[495] Mary,
and the infant Jesus, concerning which he says that the Virgin does
not enter into the composition as a secondary personage, but herself
supplies the motive to the whole painting.[496] In the engraving which
he gives, this indeed appears to be the case; but in the original, and
in the copy given by De Rossi,[497] which shows the entire painting,
the figure of the Virgin is only a very small and subordinate portion
of an elaborate decorative design, and its position is not upright, as
if it were the principal object, but horizontal, as being only
accessory to the main grouping. All these early presentations of the
Virgin Mary, says Mr. Marriott,[498] occur only in such connexion as
is directly suggested by holy scripture, and none of them would appear
out of place in an illustrated English Bible, so different are they
from the Madonnas of Roman Catholic art.
[Illustration: Fig. 88.--Orante.]
There are numerous frescoes in the Catacombs of persons, both male and
female, in the attitude of prayer, hence called _Oranti_, (see
Fig. 82,) and the accompanying simpler example from the cemetery of
Sts. Peter and Marcellinus. These are frequently found on sepulchral
slabs, the sex and apparent age of the _Orante_ always corresponding
with that of the person named in the inscription. They are
generally regarded, therefore, as portraits of the departed, and 309
as probably indicating that they lived a life of prayer, and died in
the faith. Thus the _oranti_, in Fig. 82, are thought by Perret to
be intended for Priscilla, in whose cemetery it is found, and her
companion.[499] It is at least most likely that they represented the
deceased and not another, in the same manner as modern sepulchral
effigies, and as the pictures of fossors, vine-dressers, and
handicraftsmen in the Catacombs. Dr. Northcote at one time admitted
this explanation of these figures. “We can scarcely err,” he says, “in
supposing them to be the persons, whoever they were, who were buried
in these chambers.”[500] But in his later work on the Catacombs he
says, “Possibly this conjecture may sometimes be correct, but in the
majority of instances we feel certain that it is inadmissible;”[501]
and he claims them as representations of the Virgin Mary, or as
symbols of the Church, the Bride of Christ, whose life on earth is a
life of prayer. This is manifestly the intention, he asserts, when, as
is frequently the case, the figure is found as a companion to that of 310
the Good Shepherd; and he gives an engraving from Bosio of one such,
which is catalogued as the “Good Shepherd and the Blessed Virgin.”[502]
But in referring to Bosio this figure is found to be not the Virgin
Mary at all, but a Christian martyr, as is indicated by the attribute
of a _plumbata_, or leaden scourge, painted beside her, which is
omitted in Dr. Northcote’s engraving, (inadvertently, as he explains;)
and she is designated by Bosio, _Una Donna Orante_--a woman in the act
of prayer. And this figure is the only one out of all figured by Bosio
and Aringhi which at all agrees with Dr. Northcote’s description. The
others when associated with the Good Shepherd are either in groups of
two or more, or are mixed with male _oranti_, the existence of which
Dr. Northcote seems to ignore.
But even if the Virgin Mary were referred to in these paintings it
would prove nothing in favour of modern Mariolatry. Indeed, nothing
could be more striking than the contrast between these simple praying
figures, undistinguished by any attribute from others of the pious
dead, and the crowned Queen of Heaven receiving the homage of mankind,
of later Roman Catholic art. But that they are such is an entirely
gratuitous and unwarranted assumption; and with equal propriety, or
rather lack of it, they have been interpreted by the monkish ciceroni
of the Catacombs as symbols of martyrdom, as portraits of living
persons praying to the dead, and as saints in heaven praying for men
on earth.[503]
In the gilded glasses, to be hereafter described, which belong to a 311
period of very degraded art, probably from the fourth to the sixth
century, representations of the Virgin mother sometimes occur,
recognized by her name written above her head after the Byzantine
manner. She appears either alone, or between figures of the apostles
Peter and Paul. This honour, however, is shared by other female
saints, especially by Saint Agnes. In one example Mary wears a nimbus,
a proof of comparatively late date.
[Illustration: Fig. 89.--Supposed Madonna.]
One fresco in the Catacomb of Sts. Thraso and Saturninus has been
supposed to have some reference to the Virgin Mary. It is figured in
the lunette of the vault in the accompanying engraving. (Fig.
89.)[504] It is interpreted, however, by Bottari, a distinguished 312
Romanist antiquary, as not a painting of the Madonna at all, but
simply of a family group.
[Illustration: Fig. 90.--The Earliest Madonna.]
The first art-presentation of the Virgin Mary bearing any resemblance
to the conventional Madonna, which has been so endlessly reproduced
and so idolatrously honoured throughout Roman Catholic Christendom, is
one in an _arcosolium_ in the Catacomb of St. Agnes. (See Fig.
90.) The head of the Virgin is veiled, a necklace of pearls adorns her
person, and her hands are extended in prayer. The infant Christ is not
seated, but standing before her, as is common in a favourite type of
the Greek church, especially in Russia--an indication that this was
probably painted by a Byzantine artist, as was most of the later work
at Rome. But even in this picture the early Christians, unprescient of
the Mariolatry of the future, would see the expression only of a
loving regard for her who was pronounced the “blessed among women.” 313
The sacred monogram on either side assigns a date not earlier than the
fourth century to this painting; and Martigny, an eminent Romanist
authority, thinks it is later than the Council of Ephesus, in the
fifth century,--A. D. 431.
By this time a sad departure from primitive orthodoxy of belief had
already taken place. The blasphemous title Theotokos, Mother of God,
since so unhappily familiar,[505] had been applied to the Virgin Mary,
at first in protest against the Arian heresy which denied the divinity
of Our Lord, and not in exaltation of his virgin mother. Nestorius
strongly objected to the unwarranted and antiscriptural title, and
suggested that of the mother of Christ. An angry controversy resulted,
to appease which Theodosius the younger assembled the Council of
Ephesus. Nestorius was judged without being heard, degraded from the
episcopal dignity, and sent into exile; and the obnoxious epithet was
confirmed through the exercise of fraud and violence. Flavianus, a
member of the Council, actually died of wounds received in that
turbulent assembly; and amid these disgraceful scenes was first
formulated this dogma, which has been fraught with such perilous
consequences to both Greek and Latin Christianity.
The artistic embodiment of this doctrine underwent a rapid decline.
The sweet and tender grace of the virgin mother disappears, the modest
veil gives place to a crown, she becomes vulgarized in expression,
jewels bedizen her person, the attitude becomes stiff and lifeless,
the countenance darkens and assumes an expression of pain rather than 314
that of gentleness and peace, and the innocent smile of the Divine
Infant gives place to an unnatural severity and gloom. The beginning
of this decline is seen in the Madonna already described, (Fig. 90),
in which the person of Mary is adorned with a showy necklace of
jewels. This type passes by rapid gradations, during the gathering
gloom of the dark ages, into the anguished pictures of the _Mater
Dolorosa_, bowed down with sevenfold sorrows, and the gross images
of Our Lady of the Bleeding Heart, her bosom transpierced with a naked
sword.[506] But even in this is seen the striking moral contrast
between the spirit of Christian and that of pagan art. The loftiest
ideal of the latter is the expression of mere corporeal beauty, while
the former exhibits the noblest type of purity, sorrow, and love the
world has ever seen. With the Renaissance this ideal became the
inspiration of art, and gave birth to those triumphs of genius which
kindle admiration in the coldest nature, and invest with a spell of
pathos and power a dogma which the judgment rejects.
The silence of the primitive Fathers concerning the worship of Mary is
a striking evidence of its non-existence, and their language when they
do speak of her still more strongly demonstrates that fact. Tertullian
seems to infer her lack of faith in the mission of Our Lord, and
compares her unfavourably with Martha and Mary.[507] Prudentius
refuses to ascribe to her absolute sinlessness.[508] Augustine asserts 315
the natural depravity of her flesh.[509] Chrysostom boldly accuses her
of ambition and thoughtlessness,[510] and says, “She shall have no
benefit from being the mother of Christ unless in all things she doeth
what is right.”[511] Cyril of Alexandria, Basil of Cæsarea, and Hilary
of Poitiers, speak in similar unequivocal terms, which Petavius, the
Roman theologian, says are not fit to be uttered.[512] The Collyridian
heretics, indeed, rendered idolatrous homage to Mary;[513] but
Epiphanius vehemently denounces the practice as blasphemous and
dangerous to the soul. “Let Mary be held in honour,” he says, “but let
her not be worshipped.”[514] Irenæus first points out the fanciful
antithesis between Mary and Eve, which was afterward so remarkably
elaborated in Roman thought and diction.[515] Ephraem Syrus and 316
Gregory Nazianzen, indeed, speak of her invocation in prayer, but this
was an honour already bestowed on numerous other saints. The heathen
writers, moreover, who accused the Christians of worshipping a mere
man, as they considered Christ, would surely have brought a similar
accusation on account of the worship of Mary if it were known; but we
nowhere find that this was done. Indeed, it is probable that the
contumely and opprobrium with which the heathen spoke of the mother of
Our Lord may have intensified into superstitious veneration the loving
reverence with which she was regarded in the primitive ages.
Tertullian quotes the blasphemous pagan epithet, “the harlot’s son,”
applied to Christ in allusion to his miraculous birth.[516] It has
been reserved for a gifted modern poet, as pagan and skeptical in
sentiment as Lucretius, to parallel, or even surpass, this revolting
impiety.[517]