A visit to the Roman catacombs

by J. Spencer Northcote

Glass from the Catacombs, now in Vatican Library.

Then follows a third period in the history of Christian art, which, if the first two have been justly compared to its spring and summer, may itself be certainly called its autumn. It extends from the middle of the third century to the age of Constantine; and during this period there is a certain falling off of leaves, accompanied by a further development of the flower, without, however, any addition to its beauty. The symbolical element is sensibly diminished; what we have ventured to call Christian hieroglyphics are almost or quite abandoned; the parables also are less used, and even the historical types are represented in a more hard and literal form. If Moses is still seen striking the mystical rock, the literal or historical Moses is at his side, taking off his shoes before drawing near to the burning bush; or the Jews are there, in their low round caps, drinking of the waters; or if it is desired to keep the mystical sense of the history before the people, it is deemed necessary to inscribe the name of Petrus over the head of Moses, as we see in two or three specimens of the gilded glasses found in the Catacombs, and belonging probably to the fourth century. Christ no longer appears as the Good Shepherd, but sits or stands in the midst of His Apostles, or, still more frequently, miraculously multiplies the loaves and fishes. The fish is no longer the mystical monogram, “containing a multitude of mysteries,” but appears only as a necessary feature in the representation of this same miracle. Lazarus appears swathed like a mummy, in accordance, as we know, with the fact; but earlier artists had idealised him, and made him rise from the tomb young, free, and active. The three children refusing to adore the image set up by Nabuchodonosor are brought forward, and placed in juxtaposition with the three wise men adoring the Infant Jesus, suggesting a comparison, or rather a contrast, very suitable to the altered circumstances of the times.

This last remark, however, must not be allowed to mislead us. We must not imagine that the chronological sketch which has been here attempted of the development of Christian art has been in any way suggested by a consideration of what was likely to have been its course in consequence of the history of the Christian society. The sketch is really the result of a very careful induction from the laborious researches which De Rossi has made into the chronology of the several parts of the Catacombs; and if there proves to be a correspondence between the successive variations of character in the works of art that are found there, and the natural progress of the Christian mind or the outward condition of the Christian Church, these are purely “undesigned coincidences,” which may justly be urged in confirmation of our conclusion, though they formed no part of the premisses. We may venture also to add, that the conclusions were as contrary to the preconceived opinion of their discoverer as of the Christian world in general. Nothing but the overwhelming evidence of facts has forced their acceptance; but from these there is no escape. When it was found that the oldest areæ in the cemeteries are precisely those that are richest in paintings, and those in the best style, whereas in the more modern areæ the paintings are less in number, poorer in conception, and inferior in point of execution, it was impossible not to suspect the justice of the popular belief, that the infant Church, engaged in deadly conflict with idolatry, had rejected all use of the fine arts, and that it was only in a later and less prudent age that they had crept, as it were, unobservedly into her service; and as fresh and fresh evidence of the same kind has been multiplied in the course of the excavations, a complete revolution has at length been effected in public opinion on this matter. Even Protestant writers no longer deny that, from the very first, Christians ornamented their subterranean cemeteries with painting; only they insist that this was done, “not because it was congenial to the mind of Christianity so to illustrate the faith, but because it was the heathen custom so to honour the dead.” If by this it is only meant that Christians, though renewed interiorly by the grace of baptism, yet continued, in everything where conscience was not directly engaged, to live conformably to the usages of their former life, and that to ornament the tombs of the dead had been one of those usages—it is, of course, quite true. Nevertheless it is plain from the history that has here been given, that the earliest essays of Christian art were much more concerned with illustrating the mysteries of the faith than with doing honour to the dead.

Our space will not allow, neither is it necessary, that we should enter at any length into the history of Christian sculpture, since the same general laws of growth presided over this as over painting. It must be remembered, however, that sculpture was used much more sparingly, and did not attain its full Christian development nearly so soon as the sister art. There was no room for it in the Catacombs except on the faces and sides of the sarcophagi, which were sometimes used there for the burial of the dead; neither was it possible to execute it with the same freedom as painting. The painter, buried in the bowels of the earth, prosecuted his labours in secret, and, therefore, in comparative security, without fear of any intrusion from the profane; but the work of the sculptor was necessarily more public; it could not even be conveyed from the city to the cemetery without the help of many hands, and it must always have run the risk of attracting a dangerous degree of general attention. We are not surprised, therefore, at hearing that some of those sarcophagi which are found in the most ancient parts of the Catacombs seem rather to have been purchased from Pagan workshops than executed by Christians; those, for instance, on which are figured scenes of pastoral life, of farming, of the vintage, or of the chase, genii, dolphins, or other subjects equally harmless. Sometimes it might almost seem as though the subjects had been suggested by a Christian, but their Christian character blurred in the execution by some Pagan hand, which added a doubtful or unmeaning accessory,—e.g., a dog at the side of the shepherd. On some others there are real Pagan subjects, but these were either carefully defaced by the chisel, or covered up with plaster, or hidden from sight by being turned towards the wall.

Sarcophagus still to be seen in the Cemetery of San Callisto.

Very ancient Sarcophagus, found in Crypt of St. Lucina.

When, however, in progress of time, all fear of danger was past, the same series of sacred subjects as are seen in the fresco-paintings of the second and third centuries is reproduced in the marble monuments of the fourth and fifth; only they appear, of course, in their later, and not in their earlier form; often even in a still more developed and literally historical form than in any of the subterranean paintings. Thus Adam and Eve no longer stand alone, one on either side of the fatal tree, but the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity are introduced in the work of creation and the promise of redemption. Adam receives a wheat sheaf, in token that as a punishment for his sin he shall till the ground, and to Eve a lamb is presented, the spinning of whose wool is to be part of her labour. Daniel does not stand alone in the lions’ den, but Habacuc is there also, bearing in his hand bread, and sometimes fish, for the prophet’s sustenance. To the resurrection of Lazarus the figure of one of his sisters is added, kneeling at our Lord’s feet, as though petitioning for the miracle. Our Lord stands between St. Peter and St. Paul, and He gives to one of them a volume, roll, or tablet, representing the new law of the Gospel. On the gilded glasses which belong to the same period the legend is added, Lex Domini, or Dominus legem dat. The Apostles are distinguished, the one as the Apostle of the Jews, the other of the Gentiles; and even two small temples or churches are added, out of which sheep are coming forth; and over one is written Jerusalem, and over the other Bethlehem. This is a scene with which we are familiar in the grand old mosaics of the Roman Basilicas, a further development of Christian art, to which, as far as the choice of subjects is concerned and the mode of executing them, the sculpture may be considered a sort of intermediate step after the decline of painting.