The pontificate of Pius IX., among its other glories, can claim that of having especially aided De Rossi in his archæological studies; and on this account alone it would deserve the gratitude of all the friends of science. Pius IX. has deserved the name of the “second Damasus,” not only because he founded “The Archæological Commission for the Investigation of the Ancient Christian Monuments of Rome,” and aided it with pecuniary subsidies, but more particularly because he took a lively personal interest in all its undertakings.
The zeal of Pius IX. found in John Baptist de Rossi, a born Roman, a most suitable person for the advancement of archæological lore. And, in fact, Rossi alone, as all acknowledge, made more progress than all his predecessors. Although he has been more than a quarter of a century at work, he is still a hale man; and if Piedmontese brutality or revolutionary barbarism does not prevent him, he may yet make more splendid progress in his learned studies. Rossi has wonderful powers of observation, united with great calmness and perseverance in investigation, ardent love of science, and vast erudition. He is well versed in all the branches of his favorite science—in archæology, bibliography, history, æsthetics, topography, and architecture. With keen discernment, which his complicated investigations never lead astray, he knows how to choose and value his materials. We know not which to admire more—the persevering industry, or the great and unflinching mental and physical strength, which he displays in assorting the various materials which come before him. His judgment in forming hypotheses, in drawing conclusions and consequences, is always prudent. He prefers to prove too little rather than too much. On this account, as well as because of his critical acumen, he has obtained such a reputation among archæologists that Martigny, in his Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, says: “We can rely implicitly on every word that Rossi writes.” Rossi never builds a card-house; he makes no vague, superficial reasonings. All is deeply thought; monuments and documents are always brought in to corroborate his assertions; and we know that nothing is more solid and convincing than the hard marble.
It is true Rossi has not published the half of his immense collections; but from what has been published we can perceive that nothing so important has appeared in the archæological world since the time of Bosio, perhaps never anything so vast from one archæologist.
The first great archæological work of Rossi appeared when he was yet a young man. It was printed in the third volume of the Spicilegium Solesmense, published by the celebrated Benedictine Dom Pitra, now cardinal of the church. Rossi always quotes it with pleasure as his first work. The title is A Letter on the Christian Monuments bearing the Inscription ΙΧΘΥΣ. Paris, 1855.
The figurative and poetical style of the Sacred Scriptures, as well as the discipline of the secret, introduced into the “Church of the Catacombs” those numerous symbols, so full of meaning, which, disguised in the simplest pictures or the simplest words, expressed so much to the initiated. The lamb, the anchor, ship, the stag, peacock, the cock, the dove, etc., were symbols of sublime Christian ideas. But the most important of all the Christian symbols was the fish. It is mentioned as a Christian hieroglyphic all through the works of the Fathers, and appears on all the old monuments. On these latter, sometimes the Greek word ΙΧΘΥΣ sometimes the painted, and some times the engraved, image of the fish, is found. During the period of the discipline of the secret, especially during the first three centuries of the church, the most holy mysteries of Christianity were concealed from the uninitiated under the symbol of the fish.
The fish is the symbol of Jesus Christ. The Fathers before the IVth century insinuate this in obscure and ambiguous terms, while those of the IVth and Vth centuries proclaim it plainly. Thus writes towards the end of the IVth century Bishop Optatus Milevitanus:[110] “The fish, according to its Greek orthography, Ιχθυς expresses by its letters a number of holy names, which in Latin are Jesus Christus Dei Filius Salvator”—Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour—Ιησοῦς Χριστός Θεοῦ Υἱὸς Σοτήρ. S. Augustine[111] expressly says that, if you take the first letters, of these five Greek words, and unite them together, you have ἰχθυς, i.e. fish, which name is a symbol of Christ.
Some ecclesiastical writers strive to connect the fish-symbol of Christ with the Sibylline prophecies; other Fathers endeavor to find in it certain analogies between the nature and acts of the fish and the human nature and works of Christ. The different passages of ancient writers on these points are brought together in De Rossi’s treatise. Rossi himself has beautifully explained the origin of this symbol.
The fish is the symbol of Christ according to his human nature. In the figurative language of the church, the present life is likened to a sea. Ubique mare sæculum legimus,[112] says Optatus Milevitanus. Ambrose calls men the fish who swim through this life. When the divine Word became man, he became a fish as we. Hence Gregory the Great wrote: “Christ condescended to hide himself in the waters of human nature, in order to be captured by the angel of death.”
More frequently the fish is used as the symbol of the divine nature of Christ. The large fish caught by Tobias that he might have food for his journey, use the liver and gall to free Sara from devils, and restore sight to his father, was considered by the Fathers as a striking symbol of the divine Redeemer, who by the light of his doctrine cures the blindness of ignorance, redeems the world from the power of demons, and feeds us with his body on the pilgrim route from earth to heaven. Therefore is Christ symbolized as Teacher of truth in his church; as Redeemer from the power of Satan by baptism; and as Food of souls in the Eucharist.
Out of the many beautiful and expressive symbolical representations of the intimate connection between Christ and his church, we shall select only the two figures numbered 104 and 105 in De Rossi’s tract. In the midst of a surging sea a fish is swimming, carrying on its back a ship, the symbol of the church. It is the divine Ιχθυσ, who, according to his promise made to his church, carries her safely through the storms of the world. The ship is managed by rowers, the hierarchy of the church. The only pilot and leader of the ship is the Holy Ghost, represented by a dove sitting on the top of the mast. In order that no one may mistake the vessel, the scene of Christ giving the keys to Peter is painted in the foreground exactly as our modern painters represent it. In order to make this point clear, namely, that the Holy Ghost is guiding the bark of Peter, the words ΙΗΣ (Ιησοῦς) and ΠΕΤ (Πέτρος) are written over the picture.