times costly robes of silk and cloth of gold were employed for the burial of the wealthy, against which practice Jerome strongly inveighs. “Why does not your ambition cease,” he exclaims, “in the midst of mourning and tears? Cannot the bodies of the rich return to dust otherwise than in silk?”[813] The body was also frequently embalmed, or at least plentifully enswathed with myrrh and aromatic spices, after the manner of the burial of Our Lord. This was especially necessary in the Catacombs on account of the frequent proximity of the living to the dead. We find frequent allusions to this practice in the Fathers.[814] It was a pagan reproach that the Christians bought no odours for their persons nor incense for the gods.[815] “It is true,” says Tertullian, “but the Arabs and Sabeans well know that we consume more of these costly wares for our dead than the heathen do for the gods.”[816]
The nearest relatives or pious friends bore the corpse to the grave, and committed it as the seed of immortality to the genial bosom of the earth, often strewing the body with flowers, in beautiful symbolism of the resurrection to the
fadeless summer of the skies.[817] In times of persecution the privilege would often be purchased with money of gathering the martyrs’ mangled remains, and bearing them by stealth, along the pagan “Street of Tombs,” to the silent community of the Christian dead.[818] Instead of employing the pagan nænia, or funeral dirge, and prœficæ, or hireling mourners, the Christians accompanied the dead to their repose with psalms and hymns,[819] chanting such versicles as, “Return to thy rest, O my soul;” “I will fear no evil, for thou art with me;” “Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.”[820] Frequently, as will be hereafter seen, the agape or eucharist was celebrated at the grave.
The heathen buried their dead by night on account of the defilement the very sight of a funeral was supposed to cause. The Christians repudiated this idolatrous notion, and, except when prevented during times of persecution, buried openly by day, that the living might be reminded of their mortality and led to prepare for death.
We have thus seen the immense superiority, in all the
elements of true dignity and excellence of primitive Christianity to the corrupt civilization by which it was surrounded. It ennobled the character and purified the morals of mankind. It raised society from the ineffable slough into which it had fallen, imparted tenderness and fidelity to the domestic relations of life, and enshrined marriage in a sanctity before unknown. Notwithstanding the corruptions by which it became infected in the days of its power and pride, even the worst form of Christianity was infinitely preferable to the abominations of paganism. It gave a sacredness previously unconceived to human life. It averted the sword from the throat of the gladiator, and, plucking helpless infancy from exposure to untimely death, nourished it in Christian homes. It threw the ægis of its protection over the slave and the oppressed, raising them from the condition of beasts to the dignity of men and the fellowship of saints. With an unwearied and passionate charity it yearned over the suffering and sorrowing every-where, and created a vast and comprehensive organization for their relief, of which the world had before no example and had formed no conception. It was a holy Vestal, ministering at the altar of humanity, witnessing ever of the Divine, and keeping the sacred fire burning, not for Rome, but for the world. Its winsome gladness and purity, in an era of unspeakable pollution and sadness, revived the sinking heart of mankind, and made possible a Golden Age in the future transcending far that which poets pictured in the past. It blotted out cruel laws, like those of Draco written in blood,[821]
and led back Justice, long banished, to the judgment seat. It ameliorated the rigours of the penal code, and, as experience has shown, lessened the amount of crime. It created an art purer and loftier than that of paganism; and a literature rivaling in elegance of form, and surpassing in nobleness of spirit, the sublimest productions of the classic muse. Instead of the sensual conceptions of heathenism, polluting the soul, it supplied images of purity, tenderness, and pathos, which fascinated the imagination and hallowed the heart. It taught the sanctity of suffering and of weakness, and the supreme majesty of gentleness and ruth.
[740] Some of these occur also on pagan tombs.
[741] This, it will be remembered, was the name of Augustine’s son, whose early death he so pathetically laments.
[742] Compare also the classic names Diodorus, Herodotus, Athenadorus, Heliodorus, Apollodorus, Isidorus—the gift of Zeus, of Here, of Athene, of the Sun, of Apollo, of Isis; and Diogenes, Hermogenes—born of Zeus, of Hermes; also the beautiful German names Gottlieb, Gottlob—Beloved of God, Praise God, etc.