From a pure heart, Damasus may rise up in better health;

Though it has not been love of life, but rather anxiety for work, that has retained him in this life.”

The second inscription De Rossi would restore as follows:—

SIRICIUS PERFECIT OPUS,
CONCLUSIT ET ARCAM
MARMORE, CORNELI QUONIAM
PIA MEMBRA RETENTAT

—that is to say, he supposes that, Damasus having died, his successor Siricius completed the work that had been begun, and, furthermore, strengthened the wall which enclosed the tomb of St. Cornelius with this very thick slab of marble—a work which may have been rendered necessary by the alterations already made by Damasus. Of course, these restorations of the mutilated inscriptions must always remain more or less doubtful, for we fear there is no chance of any other fragments of the original ever coming to light. We publish them under the same reserve with which he himself proposes them, as at least approximations to the truth. He says that, without daring to affirm their literal correctness, there are certainly strong reasons for believing that they exactly reproduce the sense of the original.

This same tomb of St. Cornelius will supply us with an example of De Rossi’s power of happy conjecture, confirmed with absolute certainty by subsequent discoveries. He had often publicly expressed his confident expectation of finding at this tomb of St. Cornelius some memorial of his cotemporary, St. Cyprian. These two saints were martyred on the same day, though in different years; and their feasts were, therefore, always celebrated together, just as they are now, on the 16th of September, all the liturgical prayers for the day being common to both. Now, De Rossi had found in one of the old Itineraries, to whose accuracy of detail he had been greatly indebted, an extraordinary misstatement, viz., that the bodies of both these saints rested together in the same catacomb, whereas everybody knows that St. Cyprian was buried in Africa. He conjectured, therefore, that the pilgrim had been led into this blunder by something he had seen at the tomb of St. Cornelius. On its rediscovery, the cause of the error stands at once revealed. Immediately on the right hand side of the grave are two large figures of bishops painted on the wall, with a legend by the side of each, declaring them to be St. Cornelius and St. Cyprian.

On the other side of the tomb is another painting, executed in the same style, on the wall at the end of the gallery: two figures of bishops, again designated by their proper names and titles. Only one of these can now be deciphered, S̅C̅S̅ XUSTUS P̅P̅ R̅O̅M̅, i.e., Pope Sixtus II., of whose connection with this cemetery we have already heard so often. The other name began with an O, and was probably St. Optatus, an African bishop and martyr, whose body had been brought to Rome and buried in this cemetery.

These paintings are manifestly a late work: perhaps they were executed in the days of Leo III., A.D. 795-815, of whom it is recorded in the Liber Pontificalis, that “he renewed the Cemetery of Sts. Sixtus and Cornelius on the Appian Way;” and the legend which runs round them would have a special significance as the motto of one who had been almost miraculously delivered out of the hands of his enemies by the Emperor Charlemagne. It is taken from the 17th verse of the 58th Psalm: “Ego autem cantabo virtutem Tuam et exaltabo misericordiam Tuam quia factus es et susceptor meus.”... “I will sing Thy strength, and will extol Thy mercy, for Thou art become my support.” Of course, this had not been the earliest ornamentation of these walls. Even now, we can detect traces of a more ancient painting, and of graffiti upon it, underlying this later work. The graffiti are only the names of priests and deacons, who either came here to offer the holy sacrifice, or perhaps to take part in the translation of the relics: “Leo prb., Theodorus prb., Kiprianus Diaconus,” &c.

We are drawing very near to the end of our subterranean walk: indeed, the staircase which is to restore us to the upper air close to the very entrance of the vineyard is immediately behind us, as we stand contemplating the tomb of St. Cornelius. Nevertheless, if we are not too weary, nor our guide too impatient, we should do well to resist the temptation to escape, until we have first visited two small chambers which are in the immediate neighbourhood. They contain some of the most ancient specimens of painting to be found in the whole range of the Catacombs. The ceilings are divided into circles and other geometrical figures, and then the spaces are filled up with graceful arabesques, birds, and flowers, peacocks, and dancing genii. It was the sight of such paintings as these which led the Protestant writer quoted in a former chapter to express an opinion that, on first entering some of the decorated chambers in the Catacombs, it is not easy to determine whether the work is Christian or Pagan. Here, indeed, the Good Shepherd in one centre and Daniel between two lions in the other soon solve the doubt; but all the other details and the excellence of their execution may well have suggested it. No one can doubt that the paintings belong to the very earliest period of Christian art, when the forms and traditions of the classical age had not yet died away.

In the first of the two chambers we are speaking of, there is nothing special to be seen besides the ceiling; but the second and more distant is more richly decorated. Here, two sepulchral chambers open one into the other: over the doorway which admits to the inner vault is represented the Baptism of our Lord by St. John: He is coming up out of the water and the dove is descending upon Him. On the wall opposite to the entrance is that fish carrying the basket of bread and wine that has been already described ([page 81]). On the wall to the left is a pail of milk standing on a kind of altar between two sheep, and we know from St. Irenæus and from some of the earliest and most authentic acts of the martyrs that milk was an accepted symbol of the Holy Eucharist. Opposite to this are doves and trees, which are often used as types of the souls of the blessed in Paradise. Thus, on one side we have the faithful on earth standing around the Divine food which prepares for heaven; and on the other, souls released from the prison of the body have flown away and are at rest, reposing amid the joys of another world; so that it would almost seem as though the same sequence of ideas presided over the decoration of these chambers, as was certainly present to the minds of those who designed the ornamentation of the sacramental chambers in the Cemetery of St. Callixtus ([page 84]).