Fig. 31.—Perspective of Interior of Vault, with Pagan Paintings.
At the top of the vault is represented the judgment of Vibia at the tribunal of Pluto. The god is seated on his throne, with his wife Proserpine, and over their heads are written the words DISPATER and
ABRACVRA—titles of the deities. To the right of the throne we see three fates—FATA · DIVINA—and to the left Vibia preceded by Mercury—MERCVRIVS · NVNTIVS—and accompanied by Alcestis, the heroine of conjugal love. The figures all have their names written above their heads.
The principal painting of the series, that in the tympanum of the arch, represents the introduction of Vibia to the banquet of the blessed. This is shown in the left hand corner of the picture, and is designated INDVCTIO · VIBIES. She is introduced by a youthful figure crowned with flowers, and holding in his hand a floral wreath. His name—ANGELVS · BONVS—the good messenger—is perhaps less an indication of Christian influence than of the Greek and Oriental ideas which have presided over the whole of these scenes. Vibia next appears seated at the banquet in the midst of those who have been judged worthy of the recompense of the good—BONORVM · IVDICIO · IVDICATI. They are ranged around a crescent-shaped table formed of cushions, and wear festive crowns upon their heads. In the foreground are seen the servants.
The fourth scene, to the extreme right of the vault, represents the funeral banquet in honor of Vibia. It is given by her husband Vincentius, who is designated by name, to the priests of Sebasis, over whose heads are written the words, SEPTE · PII · SACERDOTES. All these paintings, not only by their inscriptions, but by their conception and treatment, demonstrate their pagan origin. They are not in any sense or degree Christian; nor is there any reason to infer, as has been asserted, that they are of Gnostic execution, but decidedly the reverse.
But how are we to account for the presence of this pagan monument within the limits of a Christian cemetery?
There are two things to be observed, says M. Perret, in explanation of this circumstance. First, the arcosolium is not exclusively Christian in character. M. de Saulcy has given examples of several Jewish and pagan tombs in the form of arcosolia.[345] In the second place, there is nothing strange in a family practising an oriental rite, like the worship of Mithras—which with the Phrygian and Isiac mysteries were widely prevalent in Rome in the early Christian centuries—having a private place of sepulture, as this seems to have been. It is situated near the Appian Way, from which there was probably a separate entrance. Near by is a pagan columbarium which now forms one of the entrances of the Catacomb, of which it seems part equally with the gallery containing this tomb. This space may possibly have been originally usurped from the Christian cemetery; but it is more probable that the gallery and tomb were independently constructed, and that the fossors came unexpectedly upon it in their excavations. This conjecture is confirmed by the indications of its having been subsequently shut off, but the obstructions have long since been removed. It is impossible to admit that the Christians, in contempt of the sacred usages of the primitive ages, have commingled their sepulchres with those of the pagans.[346]
But Christian art, though affected by pagan influence, did not servilely follow pagan types. It introduced new forms to express new ideas, or employed existing forms with a new significance; just as Christianity itself introduced new words, or gave new meanings to old ones, not only in the classic tongues but in every language which it has adopted as the vehicle of its sublime truths. It created a cycle of symbolical
types of especial Christian significance; and became more enriched and enlarged in its scope by allegorical representations of religious doctrine, and by illustrations of Old and New Testament history and miracles. But Christian art soon lost that freedom of treatment which it inherited from its classic parentage, and fell into fixed and conventional forms, which were endlessly reiterated. “Before many years,” says Maitland, “the empire of imagination passed away, and the genius of art, with ‘torch extinct and swimming eye,’ had to mourn over the introduction of the hieratic style which, wherever it has appeared throughout the world, has cramped and almost annihilated the inventive faculty.” Like the hieroglyphs of Egypt and of India, or like the picture-writing of the lost races of Central America, though in a less degree, the objects of Christian art became not so much representative as symbolic. Individual genius can only struggle hopelessly with the shackles of a conventional system. From the freedom of nature it sinks into a servile copyism which can hardly be called art at all.