THE CATACOMBS OF ROME.

ART. VI.-The Church in the Catacombs: a description of the Primitive Church of Rome, Illustrated by Sepulchral Remains. By CHARLES MAITLAND, M. D. London: 1846.

THERE is an old Arabian fable, of a city whose inhabitants in an instant were turned to stone. The maiden at the fountain-the guest in the hall-the listless wanderer in the streets-all were arrested without a moment's warning, and in the posture in which the stroke found them, were transmuted at once into marble statues. And there the city stood in the desert, with the stillness of the grave resting on it, every thing unchanged as age after age swept over it. At last came a chance traveler, and for the first time in centuries its deserted streets echoed to the tread of human footsteps, as he wandered on through palace, and temple, and hall, with none to answer his summons-none to oppose his entrance-gazing in wonder on the memorials of generations which had lived ages before, to the possession of which none had succeeded, and, therefore, they had remained unaltered.

era.

In our day, the deserted cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii almost furnish a reality to this fable. There, we are at once transported back to the first century of the Christian We enter houses which it seems as if the lordly Roman had but just quitted. His paintings, and statues, and manuscripts, are about us. The sentinel still stands at the post he dared not leave, even when the burning cinders were raining about him, and the skeleton rattles hollow in his armor-the strigil lies on the pavement of the bath, as the frightened slave dropped it, when he fled-and in the bedroom is the rouge with which the faded beauty of Pompeii once restored her charms. We see on all sides of us, the nature of that now forgotten civilization, which spreads its charm over these gay Campanian cities. The "great gulf" which separates us from the days of Pliny is bridged over. The intervening ages are forgotten. We live among those who for nearly eighteen centuries have been dust-we understand each arrangement of their domestic life-and it requires an effort to recall our minds to the realities of the living present.

What these long buried cities display to us of the socia! condition of the ancients, the Catacombs reveal with regard

to the Church of that day. While we often read in the remains of Pompeii, a commentary on the lines of Juvenal or Horace, in the inscriptions which mark the tombs of the early Christians, we find a confirmation of much that was written by the Fathers of the first three centuries. The same spirit pervades these records graven in the rock, and the earnest words which these leaders of the Church sent forth to cheer their converts in the faith. The two harmonize in tone, and remain to rebuke the changes which after ages gradually brought about.

But the investigations of the Catacombs have been hitherto locked up from the great body of the public. The first publication on this subject was the work of Bosio, who had spent thirty years in its preparation. Yet he died before its completion, and it was edited by Severano, in the year 1632, under the title of Roma Sotterranea. The same work translated into Latin, and still further enlarged, was republished by Arringhi. Fabretti, who held the office of curator of the Catacombs, published a number of Epitaphs, and eighteen years afterwards another folio issued from the hands of his successor, Boldetti, entitled "Osservazioni sopra i cimiterii dei Santi Martiri." The last that appeared was the "Sculture e Pitture" of Bottari, which was devoted more especially to the Christian Arts. These works, however, though abounding in theological and antiquarian information, were written either in Latin or Italian, and of course useless to many who wished information on the subject.

The work we have placed at the head of this article, is the first attempt to bring this matter within the reach of the mere English reader. We confess, however, that we do not think very highly of it. The author seems to have felt very little enthusiasm for his subject; and we can not conceive how any one, with the rich materials of Arringhi and Bottari before him, could have made so little of his theme. We think that most persons would rise from a perusal of the volume with a feeling of dissatisfaction. In addition to this, it is written too much in the book-making style, filled with discussions, which, although well enough in themselves, are out of place in a work where the subject is so wide that every page is needed to give even an outline. For instance, in treating of the inscriptions on the tombs of the Martyrs, forty-seven pages are used in a discussion of martyrdom in general, with accounts of those sufferings of the early Christians, which are familiar to every reader of Ecclesiastical History. This, in a book of only about three hundred

pages, is rather too great a waste of space, which might have been much more profitably employed. Dr. Maitland's work might, therefore, be cut down to almost one half its present size, and still contain all the information it now does about "the Church in the Catacombs."

We propose, as far as the narrow space of this article will admit, to give some account of these burial places of the early disciples of our faith, deriving our materials partly from the works we have enumerated above, and partly from personal recollection. In the struggle for the truth which now is waging-in that controversy we have with Rome, as to which holds the doctrines of the Primitive Church-we can appeal to these enduring inscriptions, written above the dust of the early Martyrs, and show, that though dead they still speak as we do, and prove the identity of the faith we hold, with that for which Apostles suffered.

About two miles from the gates of Rome, on that same Appian Way, over whose pavements once the legions of victorious Rome marched on their way to the Capitol, and whose stones were bedewed with the tears of captive Princes, as they were dragged along to swell the glory of the triumph, stands the Church of St. Sebastian. Adjoining is the Monastery of the same name, and around it, far as the eye can reach, stretches the desolate Campagna. Here is the usual entrance to the Catacombs. There is another opening, indeed, at the Church of St. Agatha, but for some reason, strangers are seldom permitted to enter it. The writer made many attempts while in Rome; but though several times promised admission by ecclesiastics, he never succeeded in effecting it. And such, he has found, was the testimony of all his friends. The only individual he has met with who was able to inspect the Catacombs of St. Agatha, was the late Thomas Cole, the Artist, from whom he received so interesting an account as to deepen his regret at his own failure. Mr. Cole represented these passages as being much richer in inscriptions and paintings than those of St. Sebas tian, fewer having been removed from their original posi tions to be placed in the Gallery of the Vatican. Perhaps they bear more explicit testimony against the modern prac tices of Rome, and, therefore, are studiously kept concealed

from the view of the curious.

There are, also, scattered over the Campagna, holes leading into the galleries below, which often prove dangerous to the incautious rider. D'Agincourt on several occasions availed himself of them to enter the passages. As they are

all found in the Christian part of the Catacombs, they are probably apertures made for air or light. In the Acts of the Martyrs we find them spoken of as the luminaria crypta.

Taking one of the Monks of St. Sebastian for your guide, from a Chapel of the Church you can descend by the well worn stone-steps into the Catacombs below; and the contrast to the dark and damp caves, will be the greater from leaving the balmy Italian atmosphere above. Each member of the party furnished with a light, you follow your guide through intricate passages, which cross and re-cross, until he has gone his usual round and you are again at the foot of the steps. The passages wind around, apparently to follow the direction of the soft rocks, and the intricacy is increased by their generally being constructed in three stories, so that you constantly meet with steps which ascend or descend. They are usually not more than three feet wide, but at times they expand into Chapels, in one of which is still remaining a simple altar with an antique Cross in the rock above it. What solemn services must this spot have witnessed! How earnest the prayers which were here poured forth by men, whose faith was certain because they had received it from the lips of Apostles themselves, and glowed more brightly because they stood in jeopardy every hour! On each side of these passages are the tombs-excavations in the soft rock just large enough to contain a human body, and the cavity closed by a thin slab of marble. Sometimes the sepulchres are single, while in other places children are buried, as if a whole family had been interred on the same spot. Some of these have never yet been opened; but their buried inmates repose as they were laid to their rest in the first ages of our faith. In one case the marble has cracked, and inserting a thin taper, you can look on the mouldering remains of one who perhaps saw our LORD Himself in the flesh. Boldetti relates, that an odor of spices was perceived on opening some of these graves, and in the lateral branches of the Catacombs, he found unfinished sepulchers, or intended ones merely sketched upon the walls.

On the slabs which closed the tombs, were cut the Christian emblems, which the early followers of our LORD so much delighted to use, and there too they scrawled the brief epitaphs by which in that age of fear and persecution they marked the resting place of their brethren. Every thing around speaks of the consecration of suffering, and of the simple earnest faith of men, with whom the glories of the next world had swallowed up all the pains of their brief

mortal pilgrimage. How far these passages extend is not known. They are said by some to reach from sixteen to twenty miles; but a small part only is now shown, in consequence of accidents which have taken place from persons losing their way, or the galleries caving in. Many of the lateral passages about St. Sebastian have been closed, yet still, should a sudden gust of air extinguish the lights of a party, it would not be very easy for them to trace their way

out.

We can find allusions to these caves long before the Christian era. The great increase of Rome in the later days of the Republic, led to the working of quarries in the immediate neighborhood to procure the materials necessary for building. The soil of the Campagna rests on tufa and puzzolana, a volcanic, sandy rock, easily quarried, and from its texture well adapted to the excavation of long galleries, while the Esquiline Hill was undermined to obtain sand for making cement. Thus the whole sub-soil on one side of the city of the Cæsars, was perforated by a net-work of excavations, stretching out for miles in crypts and galleries. These subterranean works were referred to by Cicero in his oration for Cluentius, when Asinius, a young Roman citizen, was inveigled to the gardens of the Esquiline, and precipitated into one of the sand-pits-"in arenarias quasdam extra Portam Esquilinam." It was too in these caverns, Suetonius tells us, Nero was afterwards advised to conceal himself in his hour of danger; on which occasion he made answer to his freedman Phaon, "that he would not go under the ground while living."

Then came the advent of the Christian faith. The arenarii or sand diggers, and the workmen in the quarries, were persons of the lowest grade, and, from their occupation, probably formed a distinct class. There is reason to suppose that Christianity spread very early among them; (were not its first followers every where the lowest in the social scale?) for in time of persecution, the converts employed in the subterranean passages not only took refuge there themselves, but also put the whole Church in possession of these otherwise inaccessible retreats. And may we not trace in all this the hand of a protecting Providence? The Church was about to enter the furnace of affliction, and to be encircled by the rage of the adversaries; here, then, had previously been provided a sure refuge, where it could abide until the storm was overpast. This was the cradle of the infant community. And perhaps we may go a step farther, and