Chapter III: 282 (2)

As we have already remarked, the tragic scenes of the passion of Our Lord find no place in this primitive cycle. These were felt to be subjects for devout meditation rather than for pictorial treatment. The early Christians preferred to contemplate Christ rather as the victor over death and hell, than as the victim of suffering and shame. “The agony, the crown of thorns, the nails, the spear,” says a distinguished critic of this primitive art,[551] “seem all forgotten in the fullness of joy brought by his resurrection. This is the theme, Christ’s resurrection, and that of the church in his person, on which, in their peculiar language, the artists of the Catacombs seem never weary of expatiating; death swallowed up in victory, and the victor 333 crowned with the amaranth wreath of immortality, is a vision ever before their eyes, with a vividness of anticipation which we, who have been born to this belief, can but feebly realize.”

The only scenes connected with the passion, besides that of the denial, already given, are those which occurred in the judgment-hall of Pilate, and a unique example of Simon bearing the cross. One scene in particular seems to have been selected rather as a testimony of Christ’s innocence than of his sufferings. It is that in which Pilate declares, “I have found no fault in this man;” and calling for water washes his hands, as if to blot out the damning guilt of that judicial murder. In the accompanying engraving, from a mutilated bas-relief in the Lateran Museum, this scene is exhibited. In the original the face of the irresolute governor seems to express compunction at this 334 perversion of justice to which he is yielding. In the background is seen the profile of his wife, as though uttering her solemn admonition against the impending crime. The servant with the ewer and empty basin appears in conformity with the oriental ablutionary custom of pouring water upon the hands.

In the last compartment to the right of the remarkable sarcophagus in the Lateran, represented in Fig. 104, this scene is repeated. Associated therewith in the next adjoining compartment are two figures interpreted as Christ, guarded by a Roman soldier, witnessing a good confession before Pontius Pilate. The crown above the head of the latter, if not a mere architectural decoration, may indicate the reward of those who confess Christ before men.

This sarcophagus exhibits, as Dr. Northcote admits, “the nearest resemblance to the later representations of Our Saviour’s Passion to be found in early Christian art.”[552] The Constantinian monogram in the central compartment has been already described.[553] To the left is seen the figure of Christ crowned, not with thorns, but, as if symbolizing his crown of rejoicing on high, with a garland of flowers. The last compartment exhibits Our Lord, or, more probably, Simon the 335 Cyrenian, bearing the cross under the guard of a Roman soldier. “But there are none of the traces of suffering,” says Dr. Northcote, “with which later artists have familiarized our imagination, and the crown above points to the reward for bearing the cross after our suffering Master.”[554] In one instance the Roman soldiers are shown smiting Our Lord on the head with a reed;[555] but no nearer approach to the consummation of the supreme sacrifice of Calvary is ever attempted.

Neither are the august themes of Christ’s resurrection and ascension historically treated in this biblical cycle, but only under the Old Testament types of Jonah and Elijah. One group, hypothetically interpreted as the _Noli me tangere_, or Our Lord saying to Mary on the morning of the resurrection, “Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father,” more probably represents the gratitude of Mary for the resurrection of her brother Lazarus. Numerous frescoes of seven men eating a repast of bread and fish may refer to Our Lord’s appearing to his disciples on the sea-shore, or to the celebration of the Agape.

We find only one event subsequent to the ascension occasionally represented on the early Christian sarcophagi, namely, the apprehension of Peter,[556] which was probably regarded as a type of his being finally bound for his crucifixion. He is to be discriminated from Our Lord arrested by the Roman soldiers by his bearded face, and by the Jewish caps, which mark the satellites of Herod Agrippa. It is 336 remarkable that so little reference is made to St. Peter in this early Christian sculpture, and that little indicating no degree of superiority over the other apostles; and the fact is inexplicable on the Roman theory of his primacy in the so-called Apostolic College. In the still earlier frescoes of the Catacombs he is nowhere especially designated by name or attribute. The only apostle distinguished from the rest of the twelve is St. Paul, who, in a fresco in the Catacomb of St. Priscilla, is seen side by side with the Good Shepherd, and indicated by the inscription--PAVLVS PASTOR APOSTOLVS.[557] Indeed, this was the especial title of St. Paul as being “in labors more abundant” than any of the apostles.[558] Even on the sarcophagi St. Peter is only once or twice exhibited as bearing the symbolical rod of power, and these examples may be of the fifth or sixth century. In certain of the gilt glasses already mentioned he is allegorically portrayed, instead of Moses, as smiting the rock, implying the opinion that he was in some sense the representative of the latter in the New Testament economy. But these glasses are of comparatively late date, when the notion of the primacy of St. Peter was already partially developed; and even in these St. Peter and St. Paul are often found side by side, without any sign of the superiority of the former.

It is easy to discriminate in early Christian art between the two apostles so highly honoured at Rome[559] by the strongly marked 337 conventional types to which their portraits almost invariably conform. St. Paul is characterized by the nobler form of face, a high, bold forehead, aquiline Jewish nose, dark hair and eyes, a flowing and pointed beard, and a refined and thoughtful expression of countenance as became one brought up at the feet of Gamaliel and instructed in all the wisdom of Greek philosopher and Hebrew sage. The Galilæan fisherman is represented with strongly-knit frame, broad rustic features, short gray hair, a thick and closely curling beard, generally of silvery white, and an expression of much force and energy of character.[560] It is probable that these types were derived from authentic tradition if not from actual portraits.[561] Eusebius, Augustine, and others of the Fathers, claim to have seen representations of these apostles preserved in painting; and the 338 reputed portraits alleged to have been sent by Pope Sylvester to the Emperor Constantine are annually exhibited at St. Peter’s for the veneration of the faithful.[562]

Nowhere in the Catacombs do we find the least support for the notion that St. Peter is in any sense the founder of the church in Rome, much less the rock on which the church universal is built. That honour is assigned in early Christian art, as it is by the apostle himself, to Jesus Christ, the “chief corner-stone, elect, precious.”[563]

]

These biblical pictures, we may here remark, are not grouped indiscriminately, but are often arranged in a regular order having reference to their doctrinal signification. The walls and ceilings of the _cubicula_ are frequently divided into compartments of geometrical design, as shown in the preceding engraving of a chamber 340 in the Catacomb of St. Agnes. See also Figs. 82 and 89.

Sometimes the paintings of a chamber are as closely related as the parts of a chapter in systematic theology. Thus on account of their common reference, as he conceives, to the sacraments of baptism and the eucharist, De Rossi designates as liturgical paintings certain pictures in the Catacomb of Callixtus.[565] An allegorizing spirit, however, will often discover a meaning in a fresco or relief altogether unthought of by the original artist. Thus Dr. Northcote interprets as personifications of the church or of the Virgin Mary, certain praying figures nowise differing from the ordinary _oranti_.

The sarcophagi are almost exclusively occupied with scenes from the biblical cycle, generally arranged in two rows in a continuous series, like the figures on the frieze of a Grecian temple. Frequently ten or twelve groups, embracing nearly forty figures, are found on the side of a sarcophagus. Sometimes the separate groups occupy a rhythmical arrangement of panel-like compartments, divided by columns of more or less ornamental character. (See Figs. 102, 103, and 104.) The busts of the deceased persons, man and wife, are often exhibited in bold relief in a concave recess in the centre, like the half of a bivalve shell. The table in the footnote on the following page exhibits the relative frequency of occurrence of the different subjects already described, as observed in fifty-five sarcophagi in the Lateran Museum by Mr. Burgon, and as shown in forty-eight examples copied by Bosio.[566] 341

The massiveness of the sarcophagi would during the ages of persecution prevent their use even for the wealthy, as their preparation and conveyance from the city would involve an amount of publicity that would imperil the safety of the living. After the time of Constantine the increased riches and perfect immunity of the Christians permitted the adoption of this costly entombment. The sarcophagi were no longer hidden in the subterranean crypts, but were exposed to view in the vestibules of the stately basilicas erected above ground.[567]

Hence, Chrysostom speaks of Constantine being buried in the fisherman’s porch,[568] and of emperors occupying the place of porters at the graves of the apostles. Numerous sarcophagi, however, have been found in the Catacombs, some even reputed to be of the first century. 342 These were generally of simpler design, and adorned only with the series of doubly curving lines known as wave ornaments. They were frequently buried in the floor of the _cubicula_.[569]

The reader, in examining the foregoing representations of the person of Our Lord,[570] must have been struck with their remarkably youthful and joyous character in this primitive cycle, as contrasted with the older aspect and more severe expression of the prevalent types of later art. This difference is indicative of a corresponding change of religious feeling, from the genial cheerfulness of the early centuries to the gloomy asceticism of the Middle Ages. In the art of the Catacombs Our Lord is represented, for the most part, in an ideal manner, and not in an historical sense; or, to use the language of Lord Lindsay, “as an abstraction, as the genius, so to speak, of Christianity.”[571] He is almost invariably exhibited as a youthful, beardless figure, to signify--say the ancient writers--“the everlasting prime of eternity;” with, where any definite expression is attempted, a countenance of sweet and tender grace, full of mildness and benignity.

That there was in these primitive types no attempt at realistic portraiture is evident from the opinion of many of the early Fathers 343 as to the personal appearance of Our Lord. This opinion was founded upon an erroneous interpretation of certain passages of Scripture, expressive of Christ’s voluntary humiliation and abasement. Thus Justin Martyr speaks of his appearance as ignoble and uncomely.[572] Tertullian, with his usual vehemence, asserts Christ to have been devoid, not only of divine majesty, but even of human beauty,[573] to have lacked grace and dignity beyond all men.[574] “But however mean his aspect, however vulgar and dishonoured,” he exclaims, “he shall be still _my_ Christ whom I adore.”[575] Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and Basil agree in this opinion as to the outward appearance of Our Lord; and Cyril of Alexandria audaciously declares that he was the most ugly of the sons of men.[576]

But a juster interpretation of Scripture, and a more worthy conception of the person of Christ, at length prevailed. The glowing imagery of the Song of Songs and of the prophetic Psalms was applied by several of the Fathers of the fourth century to the person, as well as to the character, of Our Lord. Jerome conjectures that there must have been something celestial in his countenance and look, or the apostles would not immediately have followed him;[577] and that the effulgence and majesty of the divinity within, which shone forth even in the human 344 countenance, could not but attract at first sight all beholders.[578] Chrysostom and Gregory of Nyssa in the East adopted this nobler conception, as also did Ambrose and Augustine in the West. The latter exclaims, “He was beautiful on his mother’s bosom, beautiful in the arms of his parents, beautiful upon the cross, and beautiful in the sepulchre;” although he admits that the countenance of Christ was entirely unknown, and was painted with innumerable diversities of expression.[579]

There was therefore, as M. Rochette remarks,[580] and as Dr. Northcote admits,[581] no authentic portrait of Christ recognized by the early church; nor was any strictly uniform type adopted. Eusebius, indeed, mentions reputed portraits of Our Lord associated with those of St. Peter and St. Paul;[582] but they were apparently objects of mere local superstition, as was also the alleged statue of Christ at Cæsarea Philippi, in which he was supposed to be represented as healing the woman with the issue of blood.[583] The earliest acknowledged images of Christ were attributed to the Gnostic heretics, 345 and were honoured with those of Homer, Pythagoras, Orpheus, and other heroes and sages by the eclectic philosophers of Rome.[584]

The silence of early tradition, as well as of Scripture, concerning the outward form of the Saviour of mankind, seems providentially designed to turn the mind from a sensuous regard for his person to a spiritual apprehension of his saving grace. The spurious epistle of Publius Lentulus, an imaginary contemporary of Christ, which is of uncertain and probably late date, contains the first written portraiture of Our Lord, which already indicates a departure from the generally youthful type of the Catacombs. “His countenance,” says this account, “is severe and expressive, so as to inspire beholders at once with love and fear.... In reproving or censuring, he is awe-inspiring; in exhorting and teaching, his speech is gentle and caressing. His expression is of wonderful sweetness and gravity. No one ever saw him laugh, though he has been often seen to weep.”[585]

The oldest extant picture of the head of Christ treated separately is 346 a profile brought from the Catacomb of Callixtus, now in the Christian Museum of the Vatican, and figured in the engraving on the following page. It is in imitation of mosaic, about life-size, and of a different type from the figure of Our Lord in composition in the frescoes and 347 sculptures of the Catacombs. He is portrayed as of adult age, his calm, smooth brow shaded by long brown hair which is parted in the middle and falls in masses on the shoulders. The eyes are large and thoughtful, the nose long and narrow, the beard soft and flowing, and the general expression of countenance serene and mild. This became the hieratic type of many of the noblest pictures of later Italian art, and, according to the Abbé Brivati, inspired the genius of Da Vinci, Raphael, and Caracci.

In the Catacomb of Sts. Nereus and Achilles the head and bust of Christ form a medallion in the centre of a vaulted ceiling. The face is of a noble and dignified expression, mingled with benevolence; but it is older in aspect, and probably of considerably later date, than that here given. Kugler, however, claims for it priority of origin. Both of these were probably of the latter part of the fourth century, and were executed not by the Christians of the purest ages of the church, but by those who had begun to walk by sight and not by faith. The primitive Christians, we have seen, had no professed portraits of Christ, but only allegorical representations of the Good Shepherd, or a youthful figure regarded as the abstractions or genius of 348 Christianity. “We must not,” says a Father of the second century, “cling to the sensuous, but rise to the spiritual. The familiarity of daily sight lowers the dignity of the divine, and to pretend to worship a spiritual essence through earthly matter is to degrade that essence to the world of sense.”[586]

On a terra cotta medallion, found not in the Catacombs themselves, but in the rubbish near the mouth of the cemetery of St. Agnes, is a head of Our Lord of the same general type as Fig. 106, but of much superior execution. The face is of exquisite beauty, and is characterized by a sweet and tender grace of expression. But with the decline of art and the corruption of Christianity this beautiful type disappeared, and a more austere and solemn aspect was given to pictures of Christ. Although the technical means of execution were diminished, and the rendering of form became more and more incorrect, yet for powerful effect, strength of character, and depth of feeling, Christian art exhibited resources beyond any thing to be found in the Catacombs. It burst the narrow limits in which it was there confined, and found ample scope in the frescoes and mosaics of the stately basilicas which were everywhere rising. In those vast and shadowy interiors the principal figure was that of Christ, surrounded by saints and angels, looking down upon the worshippers with awe-inspiring power, holding in his left hand the book of life, and raising his right in solemn menace or warning.

The first example of the art-presentation of Christ under this stern and sullen aspect, according to that accomplished critic, Mr. Hemans, 349 is a large mosaic composition of the fifth century in the Ostian basilica of St. Paul. The colossal figure of the Saviour dominates over every other object, with an effect at once startling and repulsive. “Nor can we help,” says Mr. Hemans, “seeing in this strangely unworthy conception the evidence of deterioration in the religious ideal, even more than of decline in the technical treatment peculiar to the age.”[587] Of this character is the head of Our Lord in the crypt of St. Cecilia. The expression is grave, the eyes large and solemn; the book of the gospels is in his hand, and his head is surrounded by a nimbus in the form of a Greek cross.

This type became more and more rigid and austere as the gathering shadows of the Dark Ages mantled on the minds of men. The gloomy asceticism of the monastic orders also left its impress on the art of the period, especially in the East, where the Basilian monks too faithfully illustrated the stern, austere judgments of their founder concerning the person of Christ. The rudeness of execution of this Byzantine school was only equalled by the meanness of conception of 350 the harsh, stiff and blackened portraits of Our Lord, in which he was exhibited as emphatically “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.”

Toward the close of the tenth century art sank into its deepest degradation as the long night of the Dark Ages reached its densest gloom. The year one thousand was regarded in popular apprehension as the date of the end of time, and of the final conflagration of the world so intensely realized in the sublime hymn,

Dies iræ, dies illa,
Solvet sæclum in favilla.

The excited imagination of mankind, brooding upon the approaching terrors of the Last Day, found expression in the sombre character of the art of the period. The tender grace of the Good Shepherd of the Catacombs gave place to the stern inexorable Judge, blasting the wicked with a glance and treading down the nations in his fury. Christ was no longer the Divine Orpheus, charming with the music of his lyre the souls of men, and breathing peace and benediction from his lips, but the “Rex tremendæ majestatis,” a dread Avenger striking the imagination with awe, and awakening alarm and remorse in the soul. All the stern denunciations of the Hebrew prophets and the weird imagery of the Apocalypse found intensely realistic treatment in art. Christ smites the earth with a curse, and consumes the wicked like stubble. “A fire goeth before him, and burneth up his enemies round about.”[588] The great white throne is set, and from beneath it a flame bursts forth devouring the guilty objects of his wrath. Like an angry Jove,[589] he hurls the thunderbolts of his fury and blasts with 351 the lightning of his power. The angels tremble in terror at his frown, and even the intercession of the Virgin Mother avails not to mitigate the dread displeasure of her Divine Son. Down to the period of the Renaissance the tragic scenes of the last judgment continue to be favourite subjects of art treatment, and exhibit some of its most remarkable achievements; but not all the genius of Orcagna or of Michael Angelo can reconcile our minds to the savage sternness and ferocity of the frescoes of the Campo Santo and the Sistine Chapel.

Christ is also frequently depicted in Mediæval art with his staff and scrip, his “scallop hat and shoon,” setting out upon his weary, mortal pilgrimage; returning to heaven as a toil-worn man leaning heavily upon his staff,[590] or showing to the Father sitting on his throne his wounded hands and side. He is also seen, as in the sublime vision of St. John, riding in majesty on his white horse, accompanied by the 352 armies of the sky; as trampling beneath his feet the lion and dragon, and as chaining death and hell. In Greek art, especially, he is exhibited as a throned archbishop, arrayed in gorgeous vestments, receiving the homage of saints and angels, or offering the sacrifice of the mass as the great High Priest entered into the holiest of all.

One of the most striking contrasts between the art of the Catacombs and that of later times is the entire absence in the former of those gross anthropomorphic images of the persons of the Holy Trinity, either together or separately--except Our Lord under his proper human form--of which the latter, in striking offence against piety and good taste, exhibits so many painful examples. In the earlier ages a solemn reverence forbade the attempt to depict the Eternal Father or the Holy Spirit except by means of symbolical types. The universal testimony of Christian antiquity is opposed to this practice so common in Mediæval art. Origen, Ambrose, and Augustine unite in prohibiting the representation of the Deity by any material object. The latter declares it to be impious for any Christian to set up such an image in the church, and much more to do it in his heart,[591] or to conceive it possible that the Divine Being may be circumscribed by the limits of the human frame.[592] Paulinus of Nola, in his account of the symbolism of the Holy Trinity in the church of St. Felix, describes Christ as represented by a lamb, the Holy Spirit by a dove, but for the Father nothing but a voice from heaven.[593] Gregory II., the 353 champion of image-worship, denies that it is lawful to make any representation of the Divine nature, but only of Our Lord, his mother, and the saints.[594] Such figures were also condemned by the second Council of Nice.[595] John Damascenus, a zealous defender of the images of Christ and the saints, yet declares it is as great impiety as it is folly to make any image of the Divine nature, which is incorporeal, invisible, without material or form, incomprehensible, not to be circumscribed, nor to be figured by the art of man.[596] Urban VIII. ordered all representations of the Trinity to be burnt, and Benedict XIV. forbade the depicting of the Holy Ghost in human form. Dupin asserts that the most zealous defenders of images have condemned these;[597] and the learned and judicious Bingham declares that “in all ancient history we never meet with any one instance of picturing God the Father, because it was supposed that he never appeared in any visible shape, but only by a voice from heaven.”[598]

Some recent Roman Catholic writers, however, assert the contrary of this to be the case, and refer for proof of the assertion to one or 354 two sarcophagal bas reliefs of the fourth or fifth century. One of these represents Cain and Abel bringing their gifts to an aged and bearded figure sitting on a stone, who is interpreted by the Romanists as the Omnipotent Jehovah. But that distinguished archæologist, Raoul Rochette, himself a Romanist, opposes this view. “I doubt,” he says, “the reality of this explanation, contrary to all that we know of the Christian monuments of the first ages, where the intervention of the Eternal Father is only indicated in the abridged and symbolic manner proper to antiquity, by the image of a hand.”

The other alleged sculpture of the Godhead requires more careful examination. “The Holy Trinity,” says Dr. Northcote, “is nowhere represented, as far as I know, in the paintings of the Catacombs.”[599] But he asserts that a sculptured example occurs on a sarcophagus of the fifth century, from the Ostian basilica of St. Paul’s, now in the Lateran Museum. The group referred to consists of three bearded figures of advanced age, and of grave and strongly-marked features. One of these, whom Dr. Northcote designates “the Eternal Father, the source and fountain of Deity,”[600] is seated in a raised chair or sort of throne. Behind the chair stands another described as representing the Holy Ghost, and in front of it the third, identified as the “Eternal Word.”[601] At the feet of the latter are two diminutive figures, one standing, the other prostrate, said to represent the creation of Eve from the side of the sleeping Adam. Padre Garrucci, who has published a monograph on this subject, identifies none of the adult figures in the same manner as Dr. 355 Northcote, but describes the one seated as the Son, the one behind him as the Father, and the third as the Holy Ghost.[602]

We can accept neither of these explanations, both of which are so strongly opposed to the entire spirit and character of early Christian art. The formulization of the doctrine of the Trinity by the Council of Nice, in that noble creed which still expresses the faith of Christendom, left, it is true, its impress on Christian art and literature. Both in pictorial representation, and, as we shall hearafter see, in inscriptions, is there a recorded protest against the Arian heresy which at this period convulsed and rent the church. De Rossi cites eight examples in early Christian art which he conceives to have reference to this doctrine; but in seven of these it is indicated by the association of the sacred monogram with the triangle, the symbol of tri-unity, and the eighth is the unique and anomalous bas relief under discussion.

We have seen that Christ is uniformly exhibited in this primitive art as youthful and beardless; and on this very sarcophagus, side by side with this so-called sculpture of the Trinity, he is thus seen as the representative of the Deity giving the wheat-sheaf to Adam and the lamb to Eve. Yet we are asked to believe that in the very next group he is shown, in defiance of the uniform practice, as heavily bearded and of advanced age; and that the Almighty Father, who is substitutionally represented by the Son in the adjoining scene, is here exhibited, as well as the Eternal Spirit, in human form. Another remarkable discrepancy also occurs. The so-called figures of Adam and Eve are of most diminutive size, and not nearly as large as the infant 356 Christ in his mother’s arms in the scene of the adoration of the Magi immediately below;[603] and of these the prostrate figure supposed to represent the sleeping Adam is considerably the smaller of the two, and of the more feminine aspect. This incongruity is the more striking from the immediate proximity of the adult figures of Adam and Eve, to which the smaller ones bear no resemblance. The whole group seems to correspond better to Solomon’s celebrated judgment concerning the living and the dead child than to the creation of Eve.

So careful, indeed, were the early Christian artists to avoid any representation of “the King eternal, immortal, invisible,” that in the scenes where God spake from heaven to Abraham and to Moses he is only symbolically indicated by a hand stretched out to stay the knife of the patriarch, or surrounded by clouds, as if to show more strongly its figurative character, giving the tables of the law to the leader of Israel. The annexed suggestive example of this treatment, of which many others might be adduced, is from a sarcophagus in the Lateran. See also Fig. 71, p. 290.

Throughout the whole range of sacred mosaics at Rome from the fourth 357 to the fourteenth century, according to Mr. Hemans, the Supreme Being is never represented except symbolically by means of a hand, usually holding a crown over the head of Christ, the Virgin, or the saints. In later art the hand is sometimes surrounded by a cruciform nimbus, to indicate more clearly its divine character. It is also seen stretched out from heaven in pictures of Christ’s baptism and transfiguration, of the agony in the garden, the passion, and ascension.[604]

It was long before the most audacious hand dared to represent in painting or sculpture the omnipotent Jehovah or the infinite Spirit, who sustain and pervade the universe. M. Emeric David says that the French artists of the ninth century had first the “happy boldness”--_heureuse hardiesse_--to depict the Eternal Father under human form.[605] M. Didron asserts that it was not till the twelfth century that the Divine Being was personally represented,[606] being previously invariably indicated by the symbol of a hand, or by the divine name written in a triangle surrounded by a circle. Previous at least to the earlier of these dates, the work of creation and other acts popularly regarded as proper to the Father are always represented as performed by the Son, “who is the image of the invisible God,” “by 358 whom also he made the worlds.”[607] Christ is also painted as commanding Noah to build the ark, as conversing with Abraham, and as speaking to Moses out of the burning bush. He is frequently represented also in the gigantic frescoes of the Byzantine cupolas clothed with awful majesty and bearing the title Ο ΠΑΝΤΟΚΡΑΤΩΡ, the Almighty; but the addition of the letters |IC XC|, the contraction for Jesus Christ, assure us that it is not the Father but the Son who is meant.

But the literal conception of the age was not content with a symbolical indication of the Deity. By degrees the arm as well as the hand was portrayed, and art, gradually growing bolder, attempted the representation of that face which inspiration declares no man can see and live. But at first it is the face alone that is shown.[608] Then, with progressive daring, the bust and upper part of the body are painted as reaching forth from the clouds, and finally the entire figure appears under various aspects and in different characters. The Almighty is represented armed with sword and bow, as the God of battles; as crowned, like a king or emperor;[609] and finally, as Pope, wearing the pontifical tiara and vestments. In the following example from a stained-glass window of the sixteenth century, at Troyes, in France, the everlasting Father, throned in glory, crowned with a quintuple tiara and robed in alb and tunic, supports a cross on 359 which hangs the lifeless body of the Divine Son.

The omnipotent Jehovah is sometimes portrayed as “the Ancient of Days,” under the form of a feeble old man bowed down by the weight of years, and fain to seek support by leaning heavily on a staff, or reposing on a couch after the labours of creation.[610] The treatment becomes more and more rude, even to the borders of the grotesque,[611] 360 and the conception becomes mean, coarse, and vulgar, till all the Divine departs and only human feebleness and imbecility remain, indicating at once the degradation of taste, decline of piety, and corruption of doctrine.

But this grossness of treatment reaches its most offensive development in the impious attempt to symbolize the sublime mystery of the Holy Trinity by a grotesque figure with three heads, or a head with three faces joined together, somewhat after the manner of the three-headed image of Brahma in the Hindoo mythology.[612] In other examples the Trinity is represented by three harsh stiff and aged figures,[613] identified by the attributes of the tiara, cross, and dove, enveloped in one common mantle, and jointly crowning the Virgin Mary in heaven, whose flowing train the angels humbly bear. By this degradation of Deity and exaltation of Mary we may mark the infinite divergence in 361 faith and practice of the modern church of Rome from the simplicity, purity, and orthodoxy of the ancient church of the Catacombs, as evidenced by that primitive art and symbolism whose priceless monuments we have been examining.

[477] In the bas reliefs of Chartres Cathedral and in other
mediæval churches, a biblical cycle somewhat analogous in
character to that of the Catacombs is represented. In the former
case the whole drama of time from the creation of the world to
the last judgment is set forth in a series of pictures in stone
comprising 1,800 figures, often with a touching _naiveté_
and simple grace.

[478] _Handbuch der Kunstgeschichte._

[479] _History of Christian Art_, vol. i, p. 47.

[480] In an ivory diptych, probably of the fourth century, which
is figured in Marriott’s _Testimony of the Catacombs_, is a
very spirited bas relief of Adam in the garden giving the beasts
their names.

[481] Is there any allusion here to Noah as a “preacher of
righteousness?”

[482] 1 Pet. iii, 20, 21. The dove is the symbol, says
Tertullian, of the Holy Spirit bringing the peace of God after
the mystical lustration of the soul in baptism.--_De Baptismo_,
vii.

[483] It is difficult to conceive how such a wide departure from
historic truth took place in these representations. It has been
suggested that they were copied from some pre-existing type, upon
which this form was imposed by the conditions of space in which
it was executed. Such a type occurs in the celebrated Apamean
medals, of date A. D. 193-211. See Fig. 67. It probably
commemorated the Deucalion deluge; and the design was apparently
modified by the Christian artists to represent the preservation
of Noah.

[484] Hostia viva Deo tanquam puer offerar Isaac,
Et mea ligna gerens, sequar almum sub cruce patrem.

[485] _E. g._, Greg. Nazianz., _Orat._ 42.

[486] 1 Cor. x, 4.

[487] Paulinus of Nola, in the beginning of the fifth century,
describes in spirited lines certain paintings analogous to those
of which we have been speaking, but including some subjects not
treated in the Catacombs. Among these are the passage of the Red
Sea and the destruction of Pharaoh and his host, Joshua and the
ark of God, Samson bearing away the gates of Gaza, the Israelites
crossing Jordan, and the pathetic episode of Ruth and her
sister-in-law, the one following and the other forsaking the
stricken Naomi, the emblem, as the worthy bishop remarks, of
mankind, part deserting, part adhering to the true faith:

Ruth sequitur sanctam, quam deserit Orpa, parentem;
Perfidiam nurus una, fidem nurus altera monstrat.
Præfert una Deum patriæ, patriam altera vitæ.

[488] Job xix, 17. This subject is also fantastically treated in
Mediæval art. In a Byzantine MS. of the ninth or tenth century
Job is exhibited as sitting in lugubrious melancholy amid the
ruins of his house, while Satan is dancing before him in fiendish
joy over the desolation he has caused, and is torturing his
victim with a red-hot goad. Didron, _Iconog. Chrét._, p. 158.

[489] _Roma Sotterranea_, i, 310. The newly elected pope
receives the investiture with the words, “Receive the
_pallium_, to wit, the fullness of the apostle’s office.”
_Pallia_ are sent to foreign bishops from the tomb of St.
Peter, and those who receive them keep them “_in obsequium
Petri_”--in obedience and devotion to Peter.

[490] Hom. ii. _In Ascens. Dom._

[491] Several Romanist writers interpret, with doubtful
propriety, a fresco in the cemetery of St. Priscilla as a
representation of the Annunciation. True to its gentle genius,
the art of the Catacombs passes over the tragical scenes of the
Slaughter of the Innocents, whose horrors later art has delighted
to portray.

[492] In the church of the Ara Coeli, at Rome, is a miraculous
image of the infant Christ, carved, it is said, out of wood from
the Mount of Olives, and painted by St. Luke. It is known as the
_Santissimo Bambino_, or Most Holy Babe, and is taken in its
state-coach to visit the sick. At one time it received more fees
than any physician in Rome. Its fête is celebrated by theatrical
representations of the scenes of the Advent. The apocryphal
Gospel of the Infancy tends to popularize this feature of
Romanism.

[493] According to an ancient tradition mentioned by Origen and
Leo the Great the number of the Magi was three. In the mediæval
miracle plays they are called three gipsy kings, and their names
are given as Gaspar, Melchior, and Belshazzar.

The early Fathers all refer to the adoration of the Magi as a
proof of the divinity of Our Lord, not as any homage to Mary. See
Clem. Alex., _Pæd._, ii, 8; Origen, _c. Cels._, i, p. 46;
Chrysos., in _Matt._; Jus. Mar., _Dial. cum Tryph._; Iren., _c.
Hær._, iii, 2; Hieron., _in Esaiam_, vi, 19; Ambr., _in Luc._,
ii; Aug., _Epiph. Serm._

[494] _Rom. Sott._, p. 261.--One of these devout fictions, known
as the _Proto-Evangelium_, and attributed to St. James, was the
source of those legends of the early life of Mary which furnished
so many subjects to Italian art. According to this tradition she
was dedicated while yet an infant to a religious life, and
remained till twelve years of age in the temple, where she was
daily fed by angels. See an inscription in Provence: MARIA VIRGO
MINISTER IN TEMPLO GEROSALE. Later legends assert the angelic
pre-annunciation of her birth and her immaculate conception,
which has at length become a formulated dogma of the church,
though contrary to the opinion of the ancient Fathers. (Kayes’
_Tertul._, p. 386 and _postea_.) St. Joachim and St. Anne, her
parents, are invoked in the Missal, which also asserts her
freedom from original sin, an exemption shared only by Our Lord,
John the Baptist, and Jeremiah.

In her youth, says the _Proto-Evangelium_, Mary was consigned to
Joseph, not for marriage, but for parental guardianship. A number
of suitors claimed her hand, but the apparition of a dove flying
from the top of Joseph’s rod indicated the divinely chosen
spouse. In course of time, in consequence of the growing superior
regard for celibacy, the legends of her perpetual virginity were
developed, although some, at least, of the Fathers held a
contrary opinion. See Tertul., _De Monogamia_, c. 8, and _De
Carne Christi_, c. 23; Neander’s _Antignostikus_, Whedon’s
_Commentary_, Matt. xiii, 55. The word πρωτότοκον, _first-born_,
applied to Jesus, Matt. i, 25, implies a second born afterward,
as in Rom. viii, 29, “first born of many brethren;” otherwise the
word μονογενής, _only born_, would be used, as in Luke vii, 12;
ix, 38.

[495] De Rossi and some other writers call this figure Isaiah
without any good reason.

[496] _Rom. Sott._, p. 260.

[497] _Imagines Selectæ Deiparæ Virginis_, pl. iv. This picture
is thought to be of the sixth century.

[498] _Test. of Catacombs_, p. 27.

[499] One of these has a saffron-coloured robe, and soft brown
eyes and hair. The other wears a deep crimson robe with purple
stripes. Both are richly embroidered and bejeweled.

[500] Northcote’s _Catacombs_, p. 77.

[501] _Rom. Sott._, p. 255.

[502] _Rom. Sott._, pl. viii.

[503] The circumstance above mentioned is another evidence that
no logical nor historical difficulties are any obstacle to the
devout credulity of Rome, in discovering proofs of its favourite
dogmas where a rational criticism is unable to find them.

[504] These figures are given in minute detail in Perret, tom.
iii, planches 16 to 20. On the arch and on the other lunettes
will be seen the “great fish” and the prophet Jonah, the Good
Shepherd bearing a goat, not a lamb, on his shoulders, and the
ever-recurring peacocks and doves.

[505] In Byzantine art, pictures of the Virgin Mary are generally
inscribed with the letters ΜΡ ΘΥ for ΜΗΤΗΡ ΘΕΟΥ--Mother of God.

[506] A literal interpretation of the Scripture: “Yea, a sword
shall pierce through thine own soul also.”--Luke ii, 35.

[507] Mater æque non demonstratur adhæsisse illi, cum Marthæ et
Mariæ aliæ in commercio ejus frequentantur. Hoc denique in loco
(Luke viii, 20) apparet incredulitas eorum cum is doceret viam
vitæ.--_De Carne Christi_, c. 7.

[508] Solus labe caret peccati conditor orbis,
Ingenitus genitusque Deus, Pater et Patre natus.
--_Apotheosis_, 894.

[509] Nec sumpsit [Christus] carnem peccati quamvis de materna
carne peccati.--_De Peccatorum Meritis et Remissione_, lib. i,
c. 24. He further beautifully says: Solus unus est qui sine
peccato natus est in similitudine carnis peccati, sine peccato
vixit inter aliena peccata sine peccato mortuus est propter
nostra peccata.--_Ibid._, c. 35.

[510] Φιλοτιμία καὶ ἀπόνοια.--_Hom. in Matt._, xii, 47.

[511] See the words of Our Lord on this very subject, Luke xi,
28: “Yea, rather blessed are they that hear the word of God and
keep it.”

[512] “Infanda.”--_Theol. Dogmat. de Incarn._, lib. xiv,
c. i.

[513] These heretics receive their name from the κολλύρα, or
cake, which they offered to the deified Virgin. Thus early was a
new paganism substituted for that which was passing away. In
modern Rome, cook-shops are dedicated to Mary under the title of
“Our Lady of Cakes and Sugar-Plums,” thus literally “baking cakes
to the Queen of heaven,” like the idolaters of Palestine
denounced by the prophet. Madame de Staël has truly said, “The
Catholic is the Pagan’s heir.”

[514] Iren. _adv. Hæreses_, lib. iii, c. 33; lib. v, c. 19.

[515] See the hymn in the office of the Virgin:

Quod Eva tristis abstulit
Tu reddis almo germine.

Compare also the “Ave maris stella.”

[516] _De Spectaculis_, c. 30.

[517] See Shelley’s Notes to _Queen Mab_.

[518] Maitland, p. 333.

[519] The letters B. M., so frequently recurring in sepulchral
inscriptions, have no reference to the Virgin Mary. They stand
for _Bene Merenti_--To the well-deserving, or _Bonæ
Memoriæ_--Of pious memory.

[520] Ut ipsa corporis facies simulacrum fuerit mentis, figura
probitatis.--_De Virgin._, lib. ii, c. 2.

[521] Neque enim novimus faciem Virginis Mariæ.--_De Trin._,
c. 8.

[522] Aringhi (tom. ii, p. 195) copies a crucifixion from the
Catacomb of “Julii Papæ,” in which Mary appears crowned with a
nimbus, and bearing, after the Byzantine manner, the label
DEI GENETRIX--Mother of God. It was probably painted by
a Greek artist of late date. The miraculous images of Mary are
too numerous to mention. Among these are the winking Madonna of
Rimini; that of St. Peter’s, which shed blood when struck; that
of Arezzo, which wept at the profanity of some drunkards;
another at Rome, which shed tears at the invasion of the French;
stranger still, one at Lucca, which transferred the infant Christ
from one arm to the other to preserve him from danger; and one
mentioned in the Fablieux of Le Grand, which, when a scaffold
broke, stretched forth a painted arm to rescue from death the
artist to whom she owed her existence! The practical and undevout
curiosity of the Czar Peter of Russia exposed the fraud of one of
the weeping Madonnas of the Greek church by the detection of a
reservoir of water behind her eyes. In popular legend, also, Mary
has often come down from her throne of glory, not to communicate
lessons about sin and salvation, but to secure some trivial gain
or to recover some lost money.

[523] _Peinture_, tom. ii, p. 38.

[524] Harduin, iv, 430, A. D. 712.

[525] In the church of St. Cecilia at Rome. The homage of the
Virgin was now called ὑπερδουλεία--the highest degree of
veneration.

[526] This legend is first mentioned by Gregory of Tours in the
sixth century, (_De Gloria Mart._, lib. i, c. 4,) next by John
Damascenus in the eighth century, but is most fully detailed in
the _Legenda Aurea_ in the fourteenth. Some of the earlier
paintings represent with touching _naiveté_ the translation of
the soul of Mary as a new-born infant to heaven, where it is
received in the arms of her Divine Son. In later art the
assumption is more literally represented, and Mary is received
and crowned by the three persons of the Holy Trinity, while
angels bear her train. Bodily assumption was also attributed to
John the Baptist and Mary Magdalene.

[527] _E. g._, Psa. lxviii, 1: “Let Mary arise, and let her
enemies be scattered.” On one of the principal churches of Rome
may still be read the awful perversion of Scripture: “Let us
therefore come boldly to the throne of Mary, that we may obtain
mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

[528] The expression of Modestus, patriarch of Jerusalem in the
seventh century.

[529] In allusion to the woman in the Apocalypse, xii, 1.

[530] See a fresco in the _Campo Santo_, Pisa.

[531] In the church of _Gesù e Maria_ at Rome.

[532] Janua Coeli.

[533] Stella matutina.

[534] Refugium peccatorum.

[535] Succurre miseris.

[536] Tu nos ab hoste protege, et mortis hora suscipe.

[537] Ora pro populo, interveni pro clero intercede pro devoto
femineo sexu. See also in the “Ave Maris Stella,”

Salva vincla reis,
Profer lumen cæcis,
Mala nostra pelle,
Bona cuncta posce.

See also the “Regina Coeli,” and the “Ave Regina Coelorum.”

[538] She has been actually designated the Fourth Person of the
Trinity. In Rome there are twenty-seven churches dedicated to
Mary for one dedicated to Christ.

“In dangers, in difficulties, in doubts,” says the Roman Breviary
“in the abyss of sadness and despair, think of Mary, invoke Mary.”

[539] In the church of S. Maria Maggiore at Rome may be seen a
restored mosaic of the adoration of the Magi, in which Mary is
represented, with a golden nimbus and tunic, as sitting on a
chair of state higher than that of the Divine Child. But in
copies of the original mosaic of the fifth century, made two
centuries ago, (Ciampini, _Vet. Mon._, i, p. 200,) Mary is
standing, without any nimbus or other sign of honour, by the side
of Christ, who, attended by angels, occupies the throne. This was
evidently a vindication of the divinity of the Son of Mary
against the heresies of the Arians, which has been perverted by
modern Romanists to an exaltation of the Virgin to co-equal
honours with the Son of God.

The figure of Mary as the Queen of heaven in the church of St.
Nicholas at Rome is said by Papebrocius, a Roman authority, to
have been originally intended for Our Lord, but afterward altered
to the Madonna, a significant illustration of the substitution of
her worship for that of her Divine Son.

[540] See the wrathful image of Christ in the Last Judgment of
the _Campo Santo_ and the Sistine Chapel.

[541] Wordsworth’s _Eccles. Sonnets_, xxi.

[542] Longfellow’s “_Golden Legend_.”

[543] Dec., 1854. An inscription in St. Peter’s commemorates its
publication.

[544] Luke ii, 46. Such is Didron’s opinion.

[545] See Fig. 132.

[546] Numerous references to these veils occur in the Fathers;
_e. g._, Paulin., _Natal. Felic._, iii, 6: Aurea nunc niveis
ornantur limina velis; Hieron., _Epitaph. Nepot._: Vela semper in
ostiis; Epiphan., _ep. ad. Johan. Hierosol._: Inveni vela pendens
in foribus. They were used also at the entrance of Pagan schools,
“to conceal,” says Augustine, “the ignorance that took refuge
within.”

[547] Prudentes quinque virgines olei vasa cum lampadibus
deferentes.--_Roma Sotteranea_, tom. iii, p. 171.

[548] Plutarch, _Quæst. Rom._

[549] Rock’s _Hierurgia_, p. 463.

[550] On an ivory diptych in the Educational Museum at Toronto,
Ca., the raising of Lazarus appears exactly after this primitive
type.

[551] Lord Lindsay, _Christian Art_, vol. i, p. 51.

[552] _Rom. Sott._, p. 307.

[553] See Book II, chap. ii, p. 269.

[554] _Rom. Sott._, p. 308.

[555] According to Romish tradition, the Divine Sufferer received
five thousand stripes during his scourging. This, as they would
be inflicted by Roman soldiers, would be beyond human endurance,
and was far beyond what Jewish or Roman law would allow.

[556] Acts iv, 3.

[557] Aringhi, _Roma Sotterranea_, tom. ii, p. 273.

[558] Hence Augustine asserts that if the name of the apostle is
not expressly mentioned, St. Paul is always understood by this
title--Apostolus cum dicetur, si non exprimatur quis apostolus
non intelligitur nisi Paulus.--_Contra duas Epis. Pelag._, lib.
iii, c. 3. The apostles were sometimes represented by twelve men,
but without any individual distinction.

[559] O Roma felix, quæ duorum Principum
Es consecrata glorioso sanguine;
Horum cruore purpurata ceteras
Excellis orbis una pulcritudines.
--_Office for the Festival of St. Peter and St. Paul._

St. Paul is designated the illustrious doctor, the vase of
election, the teacher of the nations, and preacher of truth
throughout the world.--Egregie doctor Paule, vas electionis,
doctor gentium, prædicator veritatis in universo
mundo.--_Ibid._

[560] Of these types are the portraits on a bronze medal found in
the Catacomb of St. Domitilla, in the so-called tomb of Sts.
Peter and Paul at St. Sebastian’s, and in the early sculptures,
mosaics, and paintings generally.

[561] The scoffing Lucian, who may have conversed with some who
witnessed the execution of St. Paul, describes him as “the
bald-headed and long-nosed Galilæan, who mounted through the air
into the third heaven.”--Γαλιλαῖος, ἀναφαλαντίας, ἐπίῤῥινος,
ἐς τρίτον ουρανὸν ἀεροβατήσας.--_Philopatris._ Nicephorus and the
Acts of Paul and Thecla describe him as bald--ψιλὸς τὴν
κεφαλήν. The apocryphal Acts and Malalas add the epithets
γλυκύς and χάριτος πλήρης, sweet, and full of grace.

[562] The cultus of Peter, the result of the growing conception
of his primacy, was developed to a degree second only to that of
Mary. Its extent and character in the ninth century are indicated
by a mosaic in the _triclinium_ of San Giovanni di Laterano at
Rome, in which the apostle, seated on a lofty throne, with the
keys of heaven and hell lying in his lap, is bestowing the
_pallium_, or symbol of ecclesiastical power, on the most holy
lord, Pope Leo--so he is designated--and the standard of battle
on the Emperor Charlemagne, both of whom are kneeling at his
feet. Beneath is the following prayer, addressed to Peter as to
God: BEATE PETRE DONA VITA LEONI PPE BICTORIA CARLO REGI DONA,
“Blessed Peter, give life to Pope Leo, and victory to King
Charles.”

This religious cultus culminated in the erection of that noblest
of all earthly temples, raised to the honour of a lowly
fisherman, and in the idolatrous homage paid to the great bronze
statue cast from that of Jupiter Capitolinus, if it be not indeed
the identical statue of the heathen deity transformed into that
of the Christian apostle and Romish saint.

[563] We may here notice the precious Romish relic known as St.
Peter’s chair. In June, 1867, the present pontiff ordered the
bronze covering with which this object of veneration had been
concealed for two hundred years to be removed, and the chair was
found to be a solid oaken structure with iron rings, by which it
could be carried like the _sella gestatoria_, in which the
popes are borne in religious processions, and covered in part
with ivory plates on which are engraved the labours of Hercules
and other scenes. This chair, which is commemorated in one of the
festivals of the church, Romish tradition asserts to be that in
which St. Peter sat while exercising episcopal authority at Rome,
and in which it is presumed he was borne in state, like those
haughty pontiffs who claimed to be his successors. It is supposed
to have been preserved during the ages of persecution in the
crypts of the Catacombs; indeed, tradition identifies the
Catacomb of Ostrianus on the Appian Way as the scene where this
relic was venerated in the early centuries. Those who regard the
fact of Peter’s presence in Rome as exceedingly hypothetical, and
who altogether reject the notion of his episcopal authority, will
regard any refutation of this legend as superfluous.

An inscription is shown said to have been engraved by St. Peter
himself, also the font at which he baptized! (See Fig. 131.)

[564] It will be observed that in this chamber the Good Shepherd
occupies the position of prominence and dignity in the
compartment over the _arcosolium_, balanced by Daniel in the
lions’ den and the three Hebrews in the furnace. On the left hand
is a shelf for lamps, magnified in Romish imagination into a
credence table for supporting the elements of the eucharist. In
the ceiling are _oranti_ and lambs.

[565] _Rom. Sott._, p. 268.