CHAPTER II.

RISE OF CHRISTIAN ART.

THE burial-place of the primitive Christians was the cradle of Christian art. The faith which struggled in the early centuries with the old paganism held the germ of all the beauty which later culture has developed; but the life of the saints was first to be lived-afterward painted! The martyrs of the Catacombs had little need of visible symbols to express or stimulate their devotion. They were even at first suspicious of such symbols, and disdained the wisdom and the grace of this world, so associated with profligacy and idol-worship. A pictured image and a graven image stood practically in the same category, and the second commandment seemed a warning against both. But the natural tendency of the religious instinct to avail itself of some external signs could not be long repressed. On the graves of believers began to be carved the cross; the Alpha and Omega; the X. P., or monogram of the name of Christ; the Vine, of which his followers are the branches; the Fish, whose letters contained the initials of "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour; " the Palm, emblem of the martyr's victory; the Dove, which represents the Holy Ghost; the Peacock and Phoenix, types of eternity and the resurrection; and the Ship, which signified the Church. Rudely sculptured or rudely sketched, these were

the infant efforts of religious art. Soon came the delineation of Christ as the Good Shepherd, mild and youthful, with the rescued lamb in his arms or upon his shoulders; but no actual scenes from his life are represented till a few years later. Events from the Old Testament were earlier and more freely painted. These were all intended to have some allegorical meaning-the sacrifice of Isaac, Jonah and the whale, Daniel in the lions' den, the history of Elijah, and the history of Moses, being regarded as furnishing types of Christian truths. Indeed, in the Catacombs of both Rome and Naples subjects from the Old Testament are far more frequent than from the New. Even classic mythology is interpreted in accordance with the rising faith. Some remarkable paintings have been found of Christ in the character of Orpheus, surrounded by wild beasts who listen entranced to the sound of his lyre, and who are supposed to signify the wild and heathen nations of the earth, subdued by the power of Christianity. As the early prejudices against art began to soften, the picturesque and touching details of the life of Christ became the natural theme of the painter, while the old symbols multiplied, and their meaning extended. The four beasts of the Apocalypse represented the four Evangelists-the human face for St. Matthew, because he begins with the human generation of our Lord; the lion for St. Mark, in allusion to his clear account of the resurrection; the ox for St. Luke, because he dwells upon the Saviour's sacrificial character; and the eagle for St. John, because of the apostle's lofty contemplations and undazzled gaze upon truth. These four were occasionally combined into one mysterious emblem, called a Tetramorph. From the crosses then drawn or cut four rivers

are seen flowing, typifying the four Gospels; or sometimes these are baptismal crosses, where the forth-springing waters of baptism are overshadowed by the holy dove. "On one side stand the lambs of the Christian congregation, while on the other is the stag, an emblem of the outer Gentile world desiring baptism." The Agnus Dei, or Lamb of God, was also a favorite design of this period-sometimes seen upon the altar, or standing in the centre of twelve sheep, who are intended for the Twelve Apostles. The nativity, the adoration of the Magi, and the miracles of Christ—especially the raising of Lazarus are repeatedly delineated. Lord Lindsay forcibly remarks: "Not a thought of bitterness or revenge expressed itself in sculpture or painting during three centuries; not a single instance has been recorded of the tortures or martyrdoms which have furnished such endless food for the pencil in later ages. Even the sufferings of Christ are alluded to merely by the cross borne lightly in his hand as a sceptre of power rather than a rod of affliction: the agony, the crown of thorns, the nails, the spear, 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." It is one of the privileges of our own day to be able to trace, by means of photographs, taken by magnesium-light from these very walls, the records of primitive centuries, and thus see for ourselves the Catacomb interiors, with their sarcophagi and frescoes. The Vatican and Lateran Museums at Rome also contain many relics brought thither from their original places.