Among the paintings which have been found in the catacombs of Rome, there is one that has always struck me as having a profound meaning: it is a jewelled cross, from all sides of which spring stems of roses, which bloom around it, and cover its severe nudity. [Footnote 185]
[Footnote 185: Two of these crosses, adorned with gems and flowers, have been discovered among the frescoes of the cemetery of St. Pontianus, whose origin seems to have been anterior to the third century. One of them surmounted an altar; the other, which decorated a baptistery, is one of the most valued monuments of Christian archaeology. Throughout its entire height, and on both arms, it is covered with precious stones, richly figured, alternately square and oval. The two arms support flambeaux, with the flame clearly outlined; from them also depend two little chains, at the extremity of which are suspended the traditional Alpha and Omega. From the foot of the cross to the arms spring on both sides stems of roses covered with leaves and flowers. Directly under this painting was the baptismal font, formed from a stream whose waters, ever smooth and limpid, seem even now, after the lapse of fourteen centuries, to await the immersion of the catechumens.
The discovery in a baptistery of this cross enveloped in splendor, light, and love, authorizes our conjectures as to the signification it must have had in relation to the neophytes. This precious fresco is carefully reproduced in the great work of M. Perret on the Roman catacombs.]
It is very rarely that the cross is found in the catacombs. Perhaps for the tender faith of the neophytes it was dreaded-the sight of that instrument of torture which was yet odious to the whole world, and was dragged daily through the streets for the punishment of slaves. It was, doubtless, to assist the transition from horror to love that the Christian instinct had covered that cross with precious stones and blooming roses, red still with a blood shed by Divine love for the salvation of mankind. Be that as it may, this symbol seems to me to express gloriously the transfiguration of death by Christianity. Ah! neophytes that we are, neophytes of death and a life to come, let us regard the dying moment as a cross which Jesus and his saints have covered for us with encouragement and hope. When the children of the first Christians wondered to see a gibbet on the altar, their fathers pointed to the jewels and roses, and told them of the Redeemer's love. If death terrifies us in its austere nakedness, let us look at the love which can transfigure it, and can make our last hour the happiest, and above all, the most precious in our life.
Rosa Ferrucci was mourned. The whole public press of Tuscany told of her death; poets chanted it; inscriptions were composed in her honor,—the Italian scholars excel in this art so little cultivated among us;—I transcribe one which I think touching:
CHASTE YOUTHS, TENDER VIRGINS,
DECORATE WITH TEARS
THE TOMB OF ROSA FERRUCCI,
SWEETEST GIRL,
IN THE POLITE ARTS
VERSED BEYOND THE CUSTOM OF WOMEN;
WHO,
ON THE VERY EVE OF MARRIAGE,
WHILST UNACCUSTOMED JOYS FILLED HER SILENT BREAST,
COMPLETED HER YOUTHFUL LIFE
SECURE.
Secura! beautiful word—word full of peace! and yet less eloquent than one single word which I once read on a fragment of marble taken from the Roman catacombs, [Footnote 186] and which I now bring to the tomb of her who has passed from earthly espousals to the nuptials of the Lamb. The case here also was that of a young Christian maiden. Was she affianced like Rosa Ferrucci? Was it the hand of a betrothed spouse that closed her tomb? The word we speak of, does it indicate her virginal glory, or was it her name? The little stone saith not. All that we know is, that the hand which carried into the consecrated galleries the mortal remains of the young Christian, after having marked the place of her repose, took a fragment of marble, laid it against the opening, fastened it by a little clay, and choosing a word among those which the Gospel had just given or explained to the world, engraved these six letters:
"Chaste,"
[Footnote 186: This fragment is now preserved among the monumenta vetera Christianorum in the Belvedere gallery of the Vatican.]