The present state of grim desolation which the accessible portions of the catacombs exhibit, by no means gives an accurate idea of their appearance when they were in daily use.
The interminable corridors were then neatly finished and, in some cases, adorned with elaborate ornamentation. The graves with their many tiers, which now so often are yawning and ghastly apertures—some quite empty, some still containing a few moldering bones—were then all hermetically sealed. In many cases, though evidently not in all, the covering slabs were inscribed with the names of the tenants, and often in addition with a few pathetic words, expressive of Faith, Hope, and Love; some, too, were adorned with rough though striking emblems of the Faith, such as the monogram of Christ and the palm branch. Leading out of these miles and miles of grave-lined corridors are a vast number of compartments of various sizes, the mortuary chambers evidently of the more wealthy and important members of the Christian congregations of Rome. These were often more or less richly decorated. The roofs are often painted; the Sepulchers are adorned with both paintings and carved work in marble and stone. The marble work has well-nigh all disappeared; but the paintings on the tombs, the walls, and the roofs of the chambers, in many cases remain, though sadly disfigured and faded; and these symbolic ornaments can still, in many instances, be deciphered by experts and scholars. These dim, blurred paintings, these remains of inscriptions, enormously enhance the importance of the vast cemeteries as a piece of history, and as a record of the theological belief of the Roman Christians during the two and a half centuries which immediately followed the Ascension of the Blessed Redeemer. For these painted and carved records date in some instances from the days of the Apostles; they carry on the story of the belief of the Christian community of Rome all through the second and third and the early years of the fourth centuries of our era.
It is intensely interesting. It is even of the greatest importance to us to be enabled thus to catch sight of the Christian tone of mind, of Christian thoughts, hopes and expectations during the long drawn out period of danger and often of bitter persecution—a period which can never be repeated. No written records, however well attested, of this momentous time can be compared with these, for no redactor of a later age has touched them up, corrected them, read into them the thoughts of a later generation. The men of the first, second, and third centuries painted their thoughts on the ceilings and walls of these sacred chambers of their dead, and carved them on the marble and plaster slabs that covered up the graves. Their work remains to this day, though sadly disfigured; and we can there still read the simple, true story of their belief, their faith, their sublime hope.
When any restorer, such as Damasus in the fourth, and the Popes of the sixth, seventh, and eighth centuries, has meddled with and added fresh enrichment to the old works, the hand of the "restorer" is at once plainly visible. The style and execution directly betray the period; no mistake is possible.
We will give a few of the leading features of the story of the paintings and inscriptions which unmistakably belong to the artists of the first three centuries. First and most prominent in all the paintings, in the inscriptions and carvings, is the thought of Death. But it is no sombre idea of death—it is death as a friend. Again and again the early Christian artist pictures the spirit of the Christian when released from the body finding itself in a garden"—the garden of the Blessed In these gloomy, usually lightless crypts, it seems a strange but exquisite conception, this constant reproduction of the garden imagery. In the cemetery of Domitilla, one of the earliest of the Christian burying places, we find a beautiful representation of a vine mingled with flowers twining over the walls nd ceilings.
In these most ancient galleries of Christian art we find a considerable variety of subjects chosen by the artist or sculptor. But there are two figures which appear again and again. They are to be met with in the frescoes which adorn the most ancient Sepulchers—Sepulchers which must date from Apostolic times; for instance, amidst the charming confusion of vines and flowers of the Domitilla and Lucina cemeteries of the first century. They are reproduced, too, very frequently in the rougher and less artistic paintings of the catacombs of the third century. These are the familiar figures known as the "Orante" and the "Good Shepherd." The name usually given to the first of these tells its story: it is the "praying one." In almost all cases the figure is in the same attitude; the gaze directed upwards, the arms outstretched as though in prayer. The "Orante" is evidently asking God for something, or else thanking God for some mercy already received. In the vast majority of cases the "Orante" is drawn as a female figure, but there are exceptions when the "praying one" is pictured as a man. The attitude of the figure is always the same, only the dress is varied. What now does this favorite figure represent? The Blessed Virgin has been often pressed upon the student as its subject, but absolutely without any solid basis for the hypothesis. The Church has been suggested, but such a vague and impersonal reference would convey little to the devout mourner or worshipper of the first three centuries. Better far, and in its way more probable and suggestive, is the theory which finds in this well-known figure a symbolic representation of the soul of the dead one lying in the rock tomb within, praying for Divine help and refreshment in the new and changed condition of existence after death, or else, possibly, interceding as a blessed and pardoned spirit for those still on earth. For we find among the catacomb inscriptions many entreaties for such prayers addressed to the soul of the departed by those left behind still to struggle and to toil on earth; such as, "Live in peace and pray for us," "May your soul be happy in God; pray for your sister." The "Orante" is pictured in various combinations—now alone, now in the company of the Good Shepherd.
The "Orante" figure as the symbol of the soul of the departed, surviving the art of the very early ages, reappears occasionally in mediaeval times, but in a somewhat altered form—as a small and delicate figure emerging from the corpse, A well-known representation of the death of the Blessed Virgin, for instance, shows our Lord standing close by the form of the dead Mother, and holding in His arms, as one would a little child, her soul, robed and crowned under the form of a tiny graceful figure. This was a not uncommon subject for sculpture in wood and stone in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.
The other figure which we find so often repeated in the catacombs is the gracious form of our Lord, represented as the "Good Shepherd." This may be considered as the favorite picture in the Roman City of the Dead. Innumerable examples occur on the ceilings of the numerous sepulchered chambers leading out of the corridors, on the slabs of marble, stone, and plaster which close up the graves, or as forming the center of the decorations which encircle the more important tombs.
It belongs, this figure of the Good Shepherd, to no one period, to no special subterranean cemetery, but it is found again and again on the tombs of all catacombs alike of the first century and of the third. The beautiful and touching figure now appears as the watchful and loving Shepherd tenderly caring for His sheep; now is drawn or carved bearing a sheep wounded or wearied on His shoulders, not unfrequently even with a goat in His arms—a particular reminder that "the lost," as men would too often style their brothers and sisters, are still the object of their Master's love and pity. The last is a strangely winning feature of the catacomb teaching.
Included in what may be described as the Pastoral group of sepulchral figures, a group we find so often repeated in one form or other, are sheep and lambs, now feeding close to, now simply gazing at, the Good Shepherd; some seemingly careless, more, however, attentive to the voice and gestures of the Shepherd. The milk-pail found in certain of these pastoral pictures, sometimes standing between the lambs, sometimes borne by them, has been, with great probability, interpreted as a Eucharistic symbol of the heavenly food provided by the Shepherd.
On the slabs of stone or marble or cement which close the graves, where no space exists as in the larger tombs for the figures of the Shepherd or the sheep, or on the decorated ceilings of the sepulchral chambers where the more important graves are found, is often engraved a little palm branch, symbol of the victory over the grave; often also a dove or a pair of doves takes the place of the "Orante," as the symbol of the soul freed from the body. Other symbols of the Faith are graven on many of the slabs, such as a ship at anchor, and especially a Fish in various forms, this last being a majestic representation of the Savior, of whose titles the initials are the Greek letters' which spell the word fish. These are some of the more striking and favorite subjects. The catalogue could, however, be greatly enlarged.
The inscriptions carved on the tombs claim a few words even in so brief a study of this important but little known chapter of early Christian history. Besides the name of the departed on many of the slabs covering the graves, we find innumerable simple expressions of love and perfect faith and confidence as to the state of peace and blissful rest enjoyed by the Christian dead, such as "She sleeps," "Aurelia, our very sweet daughter, refresh thyself among the holy spirits," "In peace," "Everlasting rest of happiness," "Breaking the bonds of the body, he rejoices among the stars," "Resting well in peace," "Called away by angels," "Thou restest in peace, incomparable wife," "He went to God," "Be refreshed with the souls of the righteous," "Thou dost repose for ever from care," "Pretiosa went to her rest, a handmaid of God and Christ," "He sleeps but lives," "To the most sweet and innocent Julia; Her mother hoping," "The sleeping place of Aurelia Martina," "She departed, desiring to ascend to the Eternal Light of Heaven," "Here sleeps in the sleep of peace the sweet and innocent Severianus, whose spirit is received into the light of the Lord," "Refrain from tears, my sweet daughter and husband; believe that it is forbidden to weep for one who lives in God." These are just a few of the inscriptions gathered almost haphazard; but they seem to show how deep was the spirit of calm joy breathed by these Christians of Rome in the early days; they indicate how general was their intense Faith, their serene hope. Death was, indeed, welcomed in these Christian communities as a friend.
These men and women, when they carved their brief messages of hope and trust upon the graves of their loved dead, never dreamed of handing on to coming generations any special teaching respecting dogma. The voices of the serious disputes which arose after the date of the Peace of the Church (A. D. 313) were not audible here where the Christians of the first ages so often wept and prayed. But from the simple catacomb epitaphs we gather how firmly they held to the great truth of the God-head of the Redeemer, a truth for which, as we have seen from the proces verbaux of the martyrdoms already quoted in this history, they gladly died. We come often upon expressions such as: "In the Lord God Christ," "Sacred to the great God Christ," such an epitaph as: "Mayest thou live in the Holy Spirit," tells us that the Roman Christians taught, too, the belief in the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity.
On the whole, we gather from studies in the catacombs that the hearts and minds of the disciples of the Lord during those first three centuries were so aflame with love for the Lord Jesus, so filled with His engrossing personality, that there was little place for anyone or anything which did not bear directly upon His Person and His redemptive work. Hence the comparative rarity of any pictured representations of the blessed Virgin and the disciples of the Lord. With these early members of the Church of Rome Christ was all in all. The circumstances of their life, their precarious tenure of that life, the frequent bitter persecutions, the fixed idea that death was, after all, to be earnestly desired, as the entrance to the true life, colored all their thoughts, and inspired their art—what we have termed "the art of the catacombs." They loved to think of their Lord as the Good Shepherd, and of themselves as His sheep gathered out of the world; and they rejoiced to think of their future eternal home under the imagery of a garden, where the Good Shepherd would welcome and tenderly care for His own.
The Virgin and Child are delineated in a certain number of instances, but generally with the accompanying figures of the Magi or Wise Men with their offerings; and in these instances the Holy Child is the central figure of the group. But these pictures, after all, are few in number. Certain sacred Hebrew, subjects are not infrequent, such as Daniel in the lions' den; the temptation of Susanna; the trial of the three children in the furnace; Jonah and the great fish; the latter being by far the favorite subject among the Hebrew memories, doubtless owing to the reference made to it by our Lord.
THE GOOD SHEPHERD.
From a small Marble Statue of the Second or Third Century, now in the Lateran. It has the characteristic features of the oldest type of Catacomb "Shepherd."
Shepherd, the sheep, the lambs, the goats, the quiet garden of the Blessed, the "Orante," the dove, the fish—all these images and symbols in large measure pass out of sight. In the grander paintings, in the rich mosaics produced in the new era of the Church's victory, the visions of the Apocalypse, the mystic revelation of John, rather than the Gospel story, supply the imagery. The Good Shepherd is replaced by the noble and gracious figure of the Christ in glory of the Christ as Judge and King. It is ever the triumphant Christ rather than the Shepherd-Christ who is now depicted. It is the Lamb of the Apocalypse—"the Lamb as it had been slam," the Lamb bearing the Passion marks still; but now represented as crowned with glory and enthroned, adored by all that is greatest and noblest in Heaven as on earth.