Introductory Chapter
IT N visiting for the first time the Eternal City, nothing, amid its thousand thronging recollections, was of such profound interest as the “Roman Memories of St Paul.”
Circumstances interfered with the cherished purpose of making a preliminary acquaintance with the sites of “Appii Forum’’ and “The Three Taverns;” but we were able, under favourable auspices, including among these the brightest of skies, to trace the course of the Apostle-prisoner along the beautiful bay of Baiae, as the shores of Italy first opened upon him. If the commonly -accepted dates be correct, it must have been, too, about the same period of the year, when vine and fig-tree were in earliest bud; and the weeping willow, still so pleasingly familiar at this season to the traveller, was hanging its full, graceful tresses by the wayside. I felt it a privilege to stand on the only remaining step, covered with bright seaweed, and furrowed with age, on which he set foot at Puteoli,* also to follow him in thought in his journey to the capital, through the Arco Felice and by the Lake Avernus, till the ancient road, which in all probability he pursued, and which joins the Appian Way at Sinuessa, disappeared from our sight amid the rubbish and brushwood near Cumae.
The other termination of the great “Via The Via Appia” (whose polygonal blocks of
Appia at
Rome. basalt are in many places still grooved with the wheels wThich, two thousand years ago, passed over them), formed one of our first resorts on reaching Rome itself. It is easily
* A church, is close by, but erected not to St Paul but to the Virgin. St Januarius, whose name is associated with the pretended miracle of liquefied blood, is evidently the patron saint of modern ‘Pozzuoli. ’ accessible from the supposed site of the old Porta Capena of the Servian wall, by the modern San Sebastiano and Arch of Drusus.* However doubtful may be the identity of other traditional spots, which superstition has associated with St Paul, one fully realised his presence here. It was the feeling akin to what had previously been experienced, in a visit to Palestine, with regard to a Greater; when, amid the difficulties of tracing the Redeemer’s footsteps in connection with other localities, we felt there could be no hesitation that we were on the most consecrated ground on earth, as we trod the green sward of Olivet, or the beach of Gennesaret.
We could, accordingly, vividly imagine the Apostle, accompanied with the band of Roman
* This original entrance to the Appian Way will more than likely be soon brought to light, if indeed the discovery is not already made. The well-known President of one of the Archaeological Societies in Rome is now engaged in clearing the mounds of earth half way between the Baths of Caracalla and the Arch of Constantine, in search of the “missing link.’5 “Brethren” (some who met him at Appii st PauVs Forum, and others, probably older and
appi-oach to..
/^ a/y. less able for the journey, who had joined them at “The Three Taverns”), now approaching the end of their long route of fifty-one miles. We may be pardoned for pausing, as we endeavour to picture and vivify the scene which then opened before the central figure of that group. Of all the entrances to ancient, as to modern Rome, this was incomparably the grandest. Well may the Appian have been boastfully named by Statius, Regina Viarum (the Queenly Way). It formed the great line of communication, not only with southern Italy, but with the most remote oriental possessions of the Caesars, starting from the Golden Milestone in the Roman Forum and terminating at Brundusium. It was on nearing Rome it must have assumed its most imposing form and dimensions. Where now, for miles along this regal approach, we have only the fragments of grim, weather-stained sepulchres, wreathed with acanthus and ivy, interspersed here and there with remains of mediaeval fortresses, lonely blocks of travertine, and other masses of unshapely ruin, — there must have stretched before the Apostle’s eye one long magnificent street, lined with monuments to illustrious dead; a vast colonnade of tombs, with no vault but the blue sky, forming, if we may venture on the comparison, the Westminster Abbey of the Imperial City,* wrhile the present waste, treeless Campagna, which girdles the modern Rome as with a zone of death, was studded with patrician villas and palatial residences. The range of Alban and Sabine hills would appear on his
* All the burying-grounds in ancient times were extra-mural; situated generally in some conspicuous place immediately beyond the gates. I was struck with this peculiarity at Pompeii. The “Street* of Tombs,” outside one of the principal entrances, forms not the least interesting and noteworthy feature in the exhumed city. I noticed similar rows of ruined sepulchres, recently excavated, at Bayli and Cumae. The same, as every reader knows, was the case in Palestine. We have the familiar instance of the funeral of the Widow’s Son, met as it was proceeding outside the gate of Nain. To this day, the Jerusalem Cemetery is the immemorial oie in the Valley of Jehoshaphat.
right Conspicuous above him would be Monte Cavi, whither the laurelled conquerors of Rome were wont to proceed in triumphal procession with their trophies from the Capitol, — the Temple of Jupiter Latialis, long supplanted by a modern Passionist Convent, crowning its summit. Not far off, he would see Frescati, on its gentle eminence, enshrined in olive groves; and still farther to the right, Tivoli, nestling in its purple shadows, with the mountains of the Abruzzi for a background. Farthest away of all would be snowy Soracte, the solitary guardian of the northern landscape. Other thoughts and themes may possibly have been burdening his spirit as he passed monuments which to this hour engross the interest of the Roman archaeologist; a few, even then, hoary with age, others fresh from the chisel of sculptor or architect. Among the latter, on his right, would be that to the memory of the Consul Quintus Veranius. More conspicuous, alike in dimensions and splendour, would be the still surviving circular sepulchre, with its blocks of travertine — the Casale Rotondo, then recently erected by Augustus to the head of one of his great senatorial families. These two ancient tombs to the left, with their broad basement of peperino, are erected over the spot where, in the infancy of the empire, the Horatii and Curiatii fell. While here and there, mingling with this city of the dead, glimpses would be caught, through occasional openings, of the temples of Romulus, Bacchus, and Mars; or, on a greater scale than all, of those enormous aqueducts, then in their completed vastness, whose weird colossal fragments, still spanning the naked “Prairie” of which we have spoken, form the most picturesque of all the relics of Rome’s ancient splendour.
We may imagine the spot reached where the round tower of Cecilia Metella, built since St Paul’s time, crowns a gentle descent. Here he would obtain his most impressive view of the city proper, as the Aventine and Palatine
Mounts more nearly revealed themselves, with their crowded piles of architecture, — whether Theatres or Basilicas, Baths or Arches, Temples or Palaces; and yet, discovering also streets of squalid misery, homes festering with poverty and crime, which, as much as in any city of the present day, were in strange juxtaposition with dwellings of luxurious and guilty extravagance. Nor can we fail, in passing, to note, that the The Bast- modern traveller can discern from this
Ilea of Sa?i m
Paolo and point, what was all unknown to the
the Catacombs, illustrious wayfarer, the Campanile of
the great Basilica (of which more hereafter), which is the traditional custodier of his own martyred ashes, and nigh the reputed spot where he sealed his testimony with his blood. He must have trodden too, at this same place, over ground, or immediately adjoining it, which was yet to have its own hallowed history and associations. To this history, and these associations indeed, in one sense, this memorable entry into the Imperial City gave birth; for a few steps farther, on reaching the bottom of that gentle descent, he must have walked over one, if not more, of those vast subterranean vaults (dug probably originally to obtain stones and sand for the buildings of the city), whose tortuous caverns, in coming centuries, were to be utilised by the Christians as shelters for the persecuted living and graves for their martyred dead. As the great Apostle passed along that sepulchral road, could he fail to read on these monuments many inscriptions of aching hearts? — inscriptions similar to those which may still be seen preserved in the Lapidarian Museum of the Vatican, gathered from heathen Columbaria, — the mute agony of unsolaced grief, left to tell its tale of hopelessness and despair on the dumb stone or marble. All the boasted mythology of Rome was helpless to answer the question, “Shall the dust praise Thee?” That silent necropolis — the dormitory of the Infant Church — would yet utter through the rudest of epitaphs its cheering response — a response furnished and bequeathed by the Great Teacher who was now unconsciously passing over it — “Ye sorrow not as others who have no hope!’ — “To die is gain.” — “Them also that sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him!”
We can even, with no great effort of imagi-The Scene nation, still further vivify the scene, by
and its surroundings, the introduction of lesser accessories;
for the familiar surroundings of to-day are, many of them at least, identical with those which then greeted the eye of the Apostle. As he advanced on the crowded highway, he would see, in dress and customs, much of (what we may call) the ordinary routine of Roman life, which can have undergone little alteration since then. Yonder Contadini — peasants from the Alban hills, with their “pointed hats, their cloaks of undressed shaggy hides, rough sandals on their feet, and yellow gourds for water slung across their shoulders,” — would meet him, as they met us, going, as it might be, for Roman market or holiday: or that other group driving their patient team — the horns of the oxen twined with wild flowers or scarlet fillets — would bestow a passing glance on the dust-covered traveller. There, Senator or Praetor in his toga, would be seen rattling along the pavement, with an attendant retinue of slaves, to his Sabine retreat: there, a wasted valetudinarian repairing for recruited strength to the sea breezes of Baiae or Cumae. There, is a turbaned Asiatic enjoying his first pilgrimage to the mistress of kingdoms. There, are the still indispensable fountains enshrined in semicircular seats, filled with loungers or wayfarers to and from the busy capital. Where that unsandalled Capuchin is walking dreamily along, counting his beads, or mumbling his missal, there might be a priest of Jupiter seen hastening to do sacrifice at Cavi or Egeria. Where these bronzed berseglieri, with quick movement, are hurrying on an embassy to Albano, he might encounter some Pretorian guards, or helmeted horsemen, returning to their barracks in the Palatine or Campus Martius. There, may have been another young Giotto tending his goats on the wayside, and watching the golden sunset behind these gaunt solemn cypresses, or cluster of stone pines. There, would be a swarm of irrepressible beggars, similar in look and gesture to those who still urge their importunate suits. Groups of children might be busied plucking the wild flowers, which then as now line the wayside, or culling the yellowberried ivy from the walls. While the timid green lizard basking in the sunlight, would be seen hurrying away at the approaching footstep, and burying itself from sight in the nearest tiny aperture or cluster of drooping ferns.
Thus then St Paul is at the gates of Rome. „... And in saying; so, the loner dream of
His arrival J & ’ £>
at the gates. jjfe y fulfiUeA jt js the
realisation of what forms, at one time, the incidental topic of his conversation with friends, “I must also see Rome” (Acts xix. 21), at others, the reiterated topic of a letter, “Having a great desire these many years to come unto you” (Rom. xv. 23-33; so Rom. i. 10-15). A desire, moreover, which must have been mightily augmented and stimulated by such a sanction and promise as this, “Be of good cheer, Paul; for as thou hast testified of me in Jerusalem, so must thou bear witness also in Rome” (Acts xxiii. 11). Dare we fathom the thoughts which must have been burning within the bosom of the moral Hero, as he listened to the hum of all this busy industry and frivolous pleasure; and gazed, amid the triumphs of art and power, on visible evidences of Pagan ignorance and heathen depravity on every side? Would not his spirit, as on a kindred occasion, on entering the world’s sister capital, be “stirred within him?” Would not his inmost resolve, though not expressed in words, be this, — “I can do all things through Christ strengthening me;” c and among these all things, in God’s great name, this impregnable citadel must be stormed and fall. Its ramparts, at whatever cost, must be carried, and its magazines redeemed for the service of “the Prince of the kings of the earth.” ‘But enough. In silent emotion, the obscure, impotent, unknown Pilgrim from Asia Minor — the unnoted unit among the teeming throng — pursues his way, until, passing by the gate of the modern wall, onward by the narrow valley between the Coelian and Aventine, along the Via Triumpkalis, he gazes on the aggregate glories of the Palatine; and entering the Forum, the centre and focus of the great Babylon, with the Temple of Concord and Saturn in front, and that of Jupiter Tonans crowning the summit of the Capitoline, the ambassador in bonds is merged with his little company in that sea of multitudinous life!
We have no authentic records to guide us. in following; the cavalcade farther; nor
Design of & ’
Intro due
tor)
ter.
toryChap- is lt my designp in this introductory
chapter, to attempt entering into the details of St Paul’s residence at Rome. This would not only far exceed our prescribed limits, but it would be, at best, only a feeble rehearsal of what has been so ably rendered by others. My purpose, rather, is to convey a few impressions, gathered recently on the spot, regarding localities associated with the great Apostle; and though some of these rest on no more than tradition, it may not be uninteresting to the reader, as it was to the writer, to know about them, and receive them for what they are worth, After the rejection of the spurious and legendary, there remains, at all events, an ample residuum of truth.
It would have been of the deepest interest to the Christian student had there been „. D
St PauPs
the possibility of ascertaining, with any andhirld degree of certainty, the situation of that memorable dwelling, or rather dwellings, of his; the “lodging” and “hired house.” I made it my endeavour, while resident in the city, alike to explore the traditional sites of these, and to obtain regarding them the opinion of the most reliable antiquarian authorities whose acquaintance I was privileged to form.
I may here remark, once for all, as having Tr ± reference to other Bible scenes and
Value to be
fjaditfol — Realities in Rome, that while there are aryn.es. q e found, regarding not a few of these, the wildest and most extravagant myths — delusions fortified with hosts of lying miracles, which can only provoke a smile, and are summarily to be repudiated — it would be unfair to involve all such in one indiscriminate rejection. The historical sites of Jerusalem (some of these more sacred still), are in many cases hopeless for identification; and for this obvious reason, that with every desire on the part of the Church of the early centuries to retain them in remembrance, siege after siege swept over the devoted city; and amid sack and pillage, and fire, and centuries of expulsion, all vestige of such ‘holy places was irretrievably obliterated. Amid similar ravages, on the other hand, which, in successive centuries wasted the
Roman capital, there neither was any such material change in its natural features, nor anysuch extermination of those who alone had a sacred interest in transmitting to posterity an acquaintance with the spots dear to the hearts and memories of the faithful. The Christian Church, planted by the great Apostle in the city of the Caesars, never ceased to exist; and a knowledge of those hauntssuch as his hired lodging — his dungeon — the place of his martyrdom and death — all undoubtedly known to the early converts, could hardly fail to be confided, as a hallowed secret — a sacred legacy — from generation to generation. Nor, surely, have we any reason to impeach the accuracy and trustworthiness of the attesting witnesses. They would mark and cherish such localities, even when the power of the persecutor as yet forbade them, in any visible or tangible form, to perpetuate the memories which surrounded them; and when, on the establishment of Christianity throughout the empire, they could with impunity claim these as their own, can we doubt how jealously they would continue to guard them? Great seems the difference between their accurate conservation ot sacred places, and the later extravagances of relics and miracles, which, as unnatural excrescences have grown out of and deformed them.
It was cherishing these feelings that I re-, „ ,. paired, in the first instance, to the
“House of x
st Paul” church of “Santa Maria, Via Lata,” in
Church of ’ y
SMaria in the Corso (adjoining the Doria Palace) — the reputed “House of St Paul.” While the other prisoners who had accompanied him from Puteoli were taken, as was usual, to the Pretorian camp; — by a special act of considerate clemency (for which he was doubtless indebted to the influence and indulgence of Julius with the Prefect Burrhus), he was conducted, it is alleged, under guard to this temporary home. Here he would have that memorable interview with his countrymen so minutely described in the closing chapter of the Acts. Many thousands of these were resident in the Transtevere — the quarter in that age which corresponded with the modern Ghetto. The Church of Santa Maria was founded by Sergius in the eighth century, and rebuilt by Innocent VIII. in 1485.
A youth lit a small lamp and conducted us to a subterranean chamber, where he pointed to some unreliable frescoes alleged to be painted by St Luke. The position of the large stones under the archway adjoining the Via Lata, and which are of unmistakable antiquity, betoken that the street was at one time considerably below its present level. To the left hand, in entering the vault, is a pillar surmounted by a vase, said to contain martyrs’ blood. The pillar was brought from the Catacombs of St Sebastian: an iron chain or fetter is suspended loose from the centre; above and below which, the appropriate words are inscribed in Latin,” Sed Verbum Dei non est
34 INTRODUCTORY Ch AFTER.
ALLIGATUM“* (” But the Word of God is not bound”).
The main objection raised by some to the accuracy of this traditional spot is, that it occupies the site of the Septa Julia — an edifice built for the assemblies and votation of the Comitia, by Julius Cesar, B.C. 26. But there seems no great extravagance or unlikelihood in the assumption, that one of these smaller chambers, into which antiquarians tell us this “Government building” was divided, might have been appropriated for a few days to the reception of a political prisoner under custody of a state officer. This objection, moreover,
„ „ would have been more feasible had the
St Paul s
11 lured vault in the Via Lata been identified
house,
f’pfoif with St Paul’s “own hired house,” “in which he resided “two whole years.” For such a length of time, and with the unrestrained freedom we are expressly informed he enjoyed while there, in proclaiming
* See illustration on the binding of this Volume.
the truths of the Gospel, his residence could hardly fail to prove an inconvenience and interference in a public state building. But if we still farther follow out the ecclesiastical legend, the difficulty is removed. By a careful perusal of the narrative in the Acts, there is a strong probability that two separate dwelling-places are there referred to. In other wTords, that he was transferred from the place of his first and temporary domicile in the city, to some other permanent lodgment spoken of by the phrase,” his own hired house.55 *
Such a dwelling is pointed out within the Church which commemorates this place and period of his Roman life, “S. Paolo o Paolino alio Regola.” Thither I wrent, at the suggestion of one specially conversant in questions relating to Christian Archaeology. I discovered the
* There are two separate words employed, &evia and [xiadfia (Acts xxviii. 23, 30). %eipia is only on one other occasion found in the New Testament and in Paul’s writings — viz., when he says in his Epistle to Philemon, “prepare me also a lodging.”
place with some difficulty; for the Church itself is comparatively little known, not having much of interest or impressiveness about its architecture, and being in rather an inaccessible situation, adjoining the Ghetto, not far from Ponte Sisto, and the ruins of the Theatre of Balbus.* Entering the Church, at the right of the Altar is a doorway, surmounted by the following inscription in black lettering: — “Divi PAULI APOSTOLI HOSPITIUM ET Schola.” A few steps conduct down to an oblong apartment, said, from the above inscription, to be “The house and school of St Paul.” Its windows at present look out to an extremely narrow street. Its walls are surrounded with marble slabs, on which are written, in Latin, appropriate verses from the Acts and Romans. For example, in descending, on the right hand, the eye is attracted with the words —
* It must frankly be owned, that subjects of classical and Pagan, rather than of Christian antiquity, are those which mainly engross the study of archaeologists in Rome.
“SEQUEXTE AUTEM NOCTE,
ASSISTEXS EI DOMINUS
AIT,
constans esto,
slcut enim testificatus es de me
in Jerusalem,
Sic te oportet et
ROM.E.
Acts xxiii. ii.”
In the upper end of the chamber is a tolerably-executed picture of St Paul, with the simple inscription —
“Paulus Servus Jesu Christi.
On either side are similar appropriate Latin inscriptions — one from Acts xxv. 12, the other from Acts xxv. 10, 11. In an old and curious volume shown me by an eminent resident archaeologist, there is the following reference to this Church of Alio Regola, explaining how it came to be called the School of St Paul: — “Those he converted to Christ, here came to be catechised, because it was a retired site,” *
* “Tesori Nascosti delV Alma Citta di Roma,” “Treasures
There always must necessarily be much uninterest certainty hanging over one or both of
connected
with the these “memorial buildings.” But even
Home of
st Paul. allowing a wide margin for doubt, one could not help, in visiting their dim vaults, endeavouring to realise, at least the possibility, that the greatest of mere men — he whom Chrysostom, in one of his i golden’ epithets, truly calls “the Heart of the World” — once gazed on these walls; that here he gathered around him the nucleus of the Christian Church in the world’s great capital; that here, according to the narrative in the Acts, he threw open his doors to all inquirers; rejected by the Jew, he turned writh confident hope to the Gentile, and day after day, with unabating and unflagging
Concealed of the Beautiful City of Rome, mdcxxv.” And yet, as an illustration of the gross delusions which are found side by side with more sober and reliable statements, it is added after the sentence just quoted, “In the year 1096, in a stone in this Church, was placed a list of relics of saints. Among these relics were the arm of St Paul; and the shoes of Christ, which the Great Baptist said he was unworthy to stoop down and unloose.”
zeal, “from morning to evening,” expounded to them “the unsearchable riches of His oral
instruc-Christ,” — “teaching” as well as fans. “preaching” (for both are specially conjoined, Acts xxviii. 31) the good news of the kingdom. Nay farther, according to the very strong and emphatic, we may even say, cheering and encouraging language which closes the record of the Acts, doing so without let or hindrance, “with all confidence, no man forbidding him;”* that here Aristarchus and Epaphras, his fellow-prisoners, may have gladdened him with their presence; that here Epaphroditus may have come to him with gifts from the Philippians; that here Luke may have written, under his supervision, the “Acts of the Apostles;” that here Onesiphorus may have come oft to refresh him; and Onesimus to be equipped for his City Mission work; and Timothy to receive
* Mera Traces Trappy a Las, aKoXtirus, implying a remarkable exception, something not to have been expected. — See Aljorus Greek Testa??ie?it.
parental counsel, and yield in return, filial love; that here one of the soldiers, to whom by turns he was chained night and day, may have gone back to his barracks when his hour of duty expired, carrying the tale of this wondrous, self-sacrificing, noble-hearted criminal, from whose magnanimous soul love to God and man seemed ever to be gushing forth like a perennial stream, — recounting the words he there heard uttered, and the hymns he there heard sung, — words and hymns telling of ONE who seemed to combine the might and majesty of their own Olympian Jove with the tenderness of more than a human Friend;* that here, as in the case of his Great Master, “the common people” may have “heard him gladly.” Numbers from the streets and lanes around, attracted by various motives, may have come to listen to the doctrines of the strange Jewish preacher, “and that which seemed at first,” as it has
* See note on Graphite, in Collegio Romano, at the beginning of Sermon V.
been beautifully said, “to impede, must really have deepened the impression of his eloquence; for who could see, without emotio that venerable form subjected by iron links to the control of the soldier who stood beside him? how often must the tears of the assembly have been called forth by the upraising of that fettered hand, and the clanking of the chain which checked its energetic action!”* Nor have we exhausted all the associations of that Roman dwell- «-••,,
Jriiswritten
ing, when we remember, that in more Ptst esways than by his living voice, the world stands related to him as an everlasting debtor. There, he may possibly have dictated to his scribe, the greater number — we had almost said the most valuable — of his Epistles; those repertories of holy thought, which have proved as ministering angels to countless anxious, aching, sorrowing hearts. That dimly-lighted chamber may have been the little u Oracle” whence issued “responses” and behests for mankind —
* Howson and Conybeare’s “St Paul,” vol. ii. p. 3S7.
the “holy Church throughout all the world” his audience — all time the period of his influence, — thus making him the instructor of future centuries and unborn peoples. As the burning arrows went forth from his quiver, the modern pillar with its fetter and inscription seems faithfully to describe the joy of his free spirit, ts An ambassador in bonds; hit the Word of God is not bound!’* What spot on earth, could we only know it with certainty, could be compared in interest with that? The eagles on those imperial standards with which then he may have become familiar, were winging their magnificent flight to the ends of the earth; but that chained Eagle, by one of the bridges of the Tiber, was pluming his pinions for more majestic soarings. From that “hired house” was to go forth a power mightier than the behests of Caesar, more irresistible than the shock of legions and cohorts. As it has been said, “The vast Roman empire, the most powerful on the face of the earth, which required seven ages to establish, this man takes only a quarter of an age to regenerate.”*
We naturally pass from the reputed dwelling of the Apostle, to speak of those in.
r ’ r His comthe Roman capital with whom he was ^andclnbrought into contact; his friends, companions, and converts. To make reference to all of these, even in the most cursory shape, would form far too wide a theme for a prefatory chapter. Some are selected for more special consideration in the sequel of this volume. It may be interesting, however, to note in passing, that among other remarkable discoveries in Christian Archaeology, is that of slabs and sarcophagi — these too of the first century — found in the old places of sepulture, bearing a few of the very names of those to whom Paul sent his salutations in the 16th chapter of Romans.
* Monod. From the “hired house” must have been written the Epistles to Philemon, to the Colossians, to the Ephesians, and to the Philippians.
Many travellers can enter into the feelings so well expressed by Dr Howson, when he says, “He can never forget the start of pleasure with which he saw the name of Tryphsena in one of the cells underground, and then that of Tryphosa among the foliage in another part of the same vineyard. But many others of the identical names in the Epistle occur among these inscriptions. Some, indeed, such as Urban and Hermes, are common names, so as to cause no surprise; others, such as Stachys and Patrobas, are comparatively rare, so as to arrest the attention more; while such a combination as that of Philologus and Julia deserves special observation; the former word appearing among these monuments, and the latter in itself indicating a connection with the imperial family. On the whole, though nothing can be absolutely proved, it is difficult not to believe that we have here in modern Rome the ashes of some of those, in the midst of whose companionship St Paul preached the gospel in ancient Rome.” I shall limit myself, at present, to a reference to two of these Roman friends and converts of St Paul, not only because their names are less known than others, but because, on account of comparatively recent excavations in the city, a new interest has gathered around them; I mean, the names, and I may add the households, of Clement and Pudens.
Next to the discoveries which have been made, and are still being prosecuted, Hotl3eof on the Palatine Hill, in the old Palace CUmensof the Caesars, no explorations have, in recent times, been of deeper value to the Bible student than those which are believed to have led to the identification of the House of CLEMEXS, St Paul’s fellow-labourer, “whose name is in the Book of Life” (Phil. iv. 3). This illustrious convert was of royal blood, member of the noble family of the Anicii, and in person and character described by one of the Fathers of the second century, as “a man replete with all knowledge, and most skilful in the liberal arts.” While yet a boy of twelve years of age, he was consigned, in the absence of his parents at Athens, to the guardianship of tutors in Rome, who nurtured him in “manly studies and virtuous actions.” Owing, however, to his speculative turn of mind, he was involved, in early youth, in a severe mental conflict, especially regarding the immortality of the soul and a future life. In vain he betook himself to the varied schools of philosophy; he only felt bewildered amid their sophistries and disputations. He even resorted to the magicians of Alexandria, in hopes that by their arts and incantations they might be able to conjure some human spirit back from the invisible world, to solve the question on which he found the most reputed oracles of earth were dumb. Meanwhile, he heard the tidings that the Son of God had appeared in Judea. He listened to the glorious revelations of the Prophet of Galilee, from the lips of His servants in the Roman capital. His doubts were resolved; he embraced the truth as it is in Jesus with heroic confidence, and enrolled himself among the number of its faithful witnesses. In these days, when the name has attained an historical celebrity unknown before, it may not be uninteresting to add, that he is credited as having been the first bearer of the ’ glad tidings ’ to the city of Metz, which then in importance and population was one of the chief towns of France. We have good reason to believe from Eusebius, Origen, and Jerome, that he became afterwards Bishop of Rome. Trajan, becoming jealous of his increasing influence, banished him to the Chersonesus, where, degraded to the condition of a slave, with a brand on his forehead, and subjected to cruel infamy and dishonour, he was compelled to work in the mines and marble quarries. At length his name was added to the noble army of martyrs; for with an anchor round his neck, he was thrown into the sea, though the body was said subsequently to be discovered and interred in Rome.*
Under the guidance of the Prior of the Con-Recent ex- vent °** St Clemente, to whom I had an obliging letter of introduction, I was enabled to explore the very interesting substructions, which, altogether owing to his zeal and enthusiasm, have been brought to light; and I would here desire to make, in passing, grateful acknowledgment of his courtesy and kindness. Church For long the Church of St Clemente
of St
Clemente. was considered one of the most venerable in Rome, dating at all events from the twelfth century. It is situated on the slope of the Ccelian hill, between St John Lateran and the Coliseum, and possesses much still in its interior to gratify the lover of ancient ecclesi-
* We may give the following as a specimen of the credulity of the age (although in this case the myth must be allowed to be a beautiful one), that angels constructed a tomb and built a Church over it in the depths of the sea, where the martyr’s body fell; and that year by year, on the anniversary of his death, the waves receded to permit the faithful to visit his sepulchre!
astical architecture. I may particularise its Atrium, surmounted with a Gothic canopy of the thirteenth century; its unique choir in front of the tribune, encircled with a balustrade of white marble, flanked by two quaint pulpits or ‘ambones;’ its handsome candelabrum in [Mosaic; its pavement studded with fragments of green porphyry; the strange picture on the vault of the tribune, containing a representation of the four rivers flowing in paradise; and among other symbols in this latter, that oldest and most remarkable one (met with also several times in the Catacombs), of the Peacock, as the emblem of Immortality. From the incongruities in the style, as well as from the careless way in which portions of the more elaborate work are put together, the eye of the experienced archaeologist or architect at once discerns, that the existing building must have been indebted to some other edifice or edifices for much that is most valuable. Accordingly, the interest attaching to it has been considerably superseded by the discovery made of a still older Church below, oiaer Basi- which very possibly may have been despoiled of many of its adornments, and especially of its beautiful choir, to enrich the newer Basilica built in later times above it. The carvings and inscriptions, and specially the marvellous number of frescoes, throw much valuable light on the Christianity of the earlier centuries. The cause of the discovery may be stated in a few words. As the Prior, thirteen years ago, was engaged in making some repairs in the contiguous convent, he came upon a wall covered with some pictures, which induced him to prosecute his researches; these led to the disclosure of an ancient edifice resting on massive stonework. He has succeeded in clearing out the two aisles and nave, and tracing the line of pillars which supported the roof. We approached this singular subterranean Basilica with lighted tapers, by a flight of steps leading from the sacristy of the upper building, a depth of twenty feet It would be entirely out of place here to enter into a further detail of this interesting edifice* with its crude works of art, paintings, inscriptions, sculptures, and precious marbles. The absence of the nimbus round the heads of the sacred figures in the frescoes, is itself a remarkable indication of antiquity, — that symbol never being employed by the earlier painters. But the portion which possessed the deepest interest to me, was that in connection with the supposed discovery of the “House” or “Oratory” of St Paul’s fellow-labourer; HouKe of the very Oratory which he was reputed by tradition to have “built in his own palace at the foot of the Ccelian,” and where the young catechumens were in the habit of repairing for instruction in the mysteries of the faith. It is well known that during the first three centuries, Christians were forbidden, on their own account, to erect Churches; their
* A full and interesting account of these discoveries will be found in “St Clement and his Basilica in Rome,” by Rev. Joseph Mulhooly. Rome, 1869. Also see Murray’s excellent “Handbook of Modem Rome.”
assemblages for worship and communion took place in private, in the larger houses belonging to their brethren. If, therefore, the identification of this vaulted chamber be correct (and we have the strongest reason to believe that it is so), then it must have been the dwelling in which the early disciples were in the habit of assembling: nay, after being released from his first imprisonment, where St Paul himself, along with Barnabas, Luke, Aristarchus, and others, may have, more than once, met to speak of the things of the kingdom, and to commemorate together their Lord’s dying love in His own memorial rite. Moreover, after the establishment of the Christian religion under Constantine, it is very natural to suppose that the original dimensions of the Oratory would be extended, until they embraced the Basilica which has recently been excavated. The approach to it is along a wall formed of enormous blocks of volcanic tufa, indicating a very early period, antecedent to the Christian era; indeed, supposed by some to be as old as the times of Servius Tullius. We could trace in rude characters, on several of the recently-exhumed frescoes, the name of the imperial convert. The House or Oratory itself has an arched roof, symmetrical in its structure, and composed of richly-jcarved square stones. The only anomaly in connection with it, and one which has given rise to considerable discussion among antiquarians, is the discovery of a small Temple of Mythras, with a Pagan altar of marble in the centre, in which is a bas-relief of Mythra sacrificing a bull. But there are ingenious and satisfactory explanations regarding this proximity of the heathen shrine, which we need not here particularise, but which go far to refute any objections to the accepted theory of the adjoining chamber having been the veritable house of so distinguished a member and ornament of the early Church. It may only further be added, that the supposed remains of Clement, also the few bones said to have been left by the lions who were let loose in the neighbouring amphitheatre on the martyred Ignatius, have been interred in a beautiful tomb and shrine, situated immediately under the altar of the upper Church.
Having thus explored with deep interest the House of House of Clement, I was desirous of u msp having a similar gratification with regard to that of another of St Paul’s reputed converts, of whose name he also makes honourable mention (2 Tim. iv. 21), I mean that of PUDENS. The story of Pudens has a peculiar interest to us. He seems to have been the son of a Roman senator, sent by the Emperor Claudius to be Governor of the Regni — the southern province of England, embracing Surrey and Sussex. While there, he sought in marriage the hand of the daughter of a British King (some say Cogidubnus, some Caractacus), a beautiful young Princess of the age of seventeen, who, in the meantime, was sent to Rome. In order to obviate any bar to marriage with a foreigner (one, too, who probably occupied the position of a hostage at the Imperial Court), Pudens, on returning himself to the capital, requested the Emperor — his imperial patron — to adopt her in the first instance as his daughter, and to bestow upon her, from his own name, that of CLAUDIA. and Clau Claudia had already become a Christian, under the teaching and influence probably of a noble matron, Pomponia Grsecina, wThose husband, Aulus Plautius, had lately been in command of the invading Roman army. After being resident for some time in the capital, the union took place of the Island Princess with the Christian Senator, whose names are thus appropriately found conjoined in St Paul’s concluding salutation in his Second Epistle to Timothy, — “Pudens, and Linus, and Claudia:” indicating the interesting fact, that during his last imprisonment, when others less courageous were deterred from crossing his dungeon, he was visited there by the daughter of a British King.
Regarding the character of Pudens, the influence for good he exerted in the early Church, or his special connection with St Paul in the citv of their common residence, we know nothing. He would seem to have had the art of conciliating foes, as well as retaining friends. We find Martial, the poet, informing him that he “would dedicate no more verses to him, seeing he had changed his religion.” Notwithstanding this threat of alienation, however, they had lived and died with their friendship unbroken; for the poet dedicates an ode on the birth of his first child, and subsequently wrote a lament on his death. Through his matrimonial alliance, it is curious to know that this Roman patrician was the possessor of land in the southern counties of England; for in making excavations in the town of Chichester in 1723, a Roman inscription was discovered, on which it is expressly stated that the site of a temple, erected by a guild of carpenters or smiths, dedicated to Neptune and
IXTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. $J
Minerva, by the authority of the Imperial Legate, was “granted free” by Pudens, the son of Pudentins*
He had two daughters, Pudentiana and Praxedes, f the former of whom, by means of the Church which bears her name, has done more than anything else to perpetuate her father’s memory.
* See an interesting Treatise, entitled “Claudia and Pudens.” By Archdeacon Williams. 1848. The inscription is now preserved in a summer-house in the gardens of Goodwood, and is as follows, — the letters that are wanting being conjecturally supplied: —
“[Xjeptuni et Minervae temphtm
[Pr]o saline d[omuJs divinse
[ex] auctoritat [eTib.] Claud.
[Co]gidubni r. leg. aug. in Brit.
[Colle]gium fabror. et qui in eo,
[a sacris] sunt d s. d. donante aream
[Pudjente Pudentini fil.”
See too Alford’s “Excursus on Pudens and Claudia” Greek Test., vol. hi., Proleg., pp. 104, 105, where it is surmised that “Pudens may possibly have been attached in capacity of adjutant to King Cogidubnus, and that his presentation of an area for a temple to Neptune and Minerva may have been occasioned by escape from shipwreck, the college of carpenters (shipbuilders) being commissioned to build it to their patrons, Neptune and Minerva.” P. 104.
+ I did not see the Church erected to the latter, but i believe it possesses valuable mosaics.
The Church of St Pudentiana, now in con-Church of nection with a Bernardine Convent, is
St Pudentiana. built on the Viminal Hill, not far from
Santa Maria Maggiore. It is in one respect even of greater interest than St Clemente, from its undoubted antiquity, being the Mother Church of Rome, the primitive Cathedral of the metropolis, possibly, indeed, of Christendom. It was built (or perhaps more accurately, as we shall immediately note, enlarged and extended) by Pope Pius L, A.D. 141, on the site of the “House of Pudens.” The Church itself is rich in mosaics, dating, according to some, from the ninth, according to others, from the fourth century. It is said to contain in a deep well (although this is exceedingly doubtful) the bones of three thousand martyrs. In the roof of the beautiful side chapel of the Csetanis, though of a much later date, amid other decorations well worthy of note, is a singular mosaic, representing the daughters of the Christian Senator collecting by sponges into a golden vase or urn, the blood of some of these faithful witnesses In the apse, at the extreme end, opposite the entrance door, and immediately above the altar, is a similar picture. It exhibits Christ enthroned, with the Apostles Paul and Peter on eitherside,and the two daughters of Pudens holding in their hands a crown of martyrdom. These devoted women, who in childhood and youth may have enjoyed the prayers, or listened to the counsels of the great Apostle, seem to have led lives of loftiest self-sacrifice and consecration. The great wealth bequeathed to them on the decease of their parents and their brother, was freely dedicated to the service of Christ, and to supply the needs of their poorer brethren. During the first great persecution they braved every insult and danger for the sake of the truth and its defenders, personally ministering to those who were in prison and in chains, bringing the tortured and mutilated to their own home on the Viminal, binding up their wounds, and with their own hands shrouding the martyrs who had been denied the rites of burial by their murderers.
I was specially desirous, in visiting this Recent Ex- Church, of obtaining access (in which cavations, there jg SQme difficulty) to the recent
excavations. I was fortunate enough, accidentally, to meet at the entrance Mr P,
whose archaeological enthusiasm, and his willingness to impart his discoveries to others, are in keeping with that of the Prior in the sister Church of St Clemente. It was by his own unaided efforts, after considerable difficulties with the Papal authorities, the excavations were carried out, and the interesting subterranean edifice brought to light. In his company I was enabled most satisfactorily and intelligently to explore these strange substructions. The mere substructions themselves cannot be compared in art-interest and variety of detail with those of St Clemente; — the most conspicuous are a bath-room; one chamber with a spacious archway; and another, on a lower level still, with vaulted roof and mosaic pavement of the first century. To these mav be added some underground passages, including the unmistakable cellars, where, in former days, were stored the” Amphorae n of this old Patrician Palace. But there was a profound interest, too,. in these damp, dripping, lonely vaults. After the old Roman Senator and Christian was in his grave, doubtless the Faithful would take refuse there, and, under the protection of those who inherited his name and his faith, utilise them as places of worship, when they dared not with safety meet in the Basilica above. In this other il Church in
the House,” therefore, as in the case of A
Associations wii
the Hon.
of ‘Pud ens.
St Clemente, one could in thought re- th^House
trace the past, and imagine the days when, within these very inclosures, the prayer was uttered, the hymn sung, the word of counsel and comfort imparted, the bread of everlasting life (the blessed emblem and memorial) broken: the hands of gentle love and tenderness, in whose veins flowed the blood of the Caesars, washing stripes, binding up wounds, wiping away tears, whispering into the dull ear of the scourged and tortured and dying, hopes “full of immortality” — composing their limbs in the last long sleep — an unseen but present Saviour rehearsing doubtless His own words: — “I was a stranger, and ye took me in: naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me” (Matt. xxv. 35). But such sacred associations were by no means confined to these underground places of concealment. That upper Church has this additional interest attached to it, over and above that of St Clemente, that it may not only have been built on the site of Pudens’ House, but (in a less amplified shape, perhaps) may have originally formed the very Basilica of his Palace. These Basilicas, attached to every great Roman mansion (as graphically described to us by our conductor), were equivalent to the Barons’ halls of olden times in England, where assemblages took place of retainers and vassals. The name, originally thus applied to Roman dwellings, came to be transferred to the Christian Church. Not only so, but when, on the establishment of the Christian religion in the Roman Empire under Constantine, the erection of ecclesiastical fabrics was sanctioned and encouraged, the shape of the Basilica was retained, as being most convenient in form, alike for conducting worship and accommodating worshippers. It is interesting for us, then, to think, that during the reign of Nero, this same hall of a Roman Senator, who had espoused the faith of Christ, may have had its doors opened to receive the handful of infant believers in the City of the Caesars. Many of those whose names are mentioned in the closing chapter of Romans, may have listened in that very spot to the words of eternal life, and taken sweet counsel together; nay, as our reliable guide observed, as we passed over the pavement with its portions of ancient mosaic, “St Paul himself may possibly have been here.” *
* Among the other relics shown, is the half of the com-But I pass to another locality which has its Basilica own special memories in connection
on the
Palatine, with St Paul in Rome. The most interesting hours spent in the old capital were among the excavations of the Palace of the Caesars, on the Palatine Hill. These, as is well-known, were commenced m,any years ago, under the auspices of Napoleon III., and are still vigorously prosecuted by the Italian Government. Among the other ruins and substructions already disclosed, there is one which, from its more than probable association with the closing scenes in the life of the Great Apostle, specially arrested attention; I mean, that which is known as the “Basilica Jovis?
We have just been describing, in connection with the house of Pudens and Clement, the Basilica which formed an invariable adjunct
munion-table said to have been used by St Paul; the other half. being shown in St John Lateran. The legend, we need not say, is utterly unreliable; but it is interesting even to note this traditional connection of the name of the Apostle with the Basilica of his illustrious convert.
to the larger dwellings of the more illustrious citizens. A similar Hall, only on a more imposing scale, adjoined the Imperial Palace on the Palatine. Moreover, the latter was more particularly used as a court of justice, where, in the presence either of the Emperor or his legate, trials took place and political appeals were heard. It was, indeed, from these regal Basilicas, more than from the lesser private ones, that the form of future ecclesiastical places of worship, to which reference has just been made, was taken, — the tribune at one end, and the double row of columns running up on either side, forming a central nave and two aisles. The design was at once simple and imposing. It is certainly historically curious, (we may be forgiven the repetition) that a Pagan court of justice should thus have given architectural shape to thousands of Christian Churches; this being specially the case with regard to Rome itself, where the oblong or rectangular
E type is almost universal, culminating in the Great Basilica of St Peter’s itself*
While standing on that pavement of marble on the northern summit of the hill
The probable’-scene overlooking the Forum and the Arch
trial. q£ -pjtus the qUestion is naturally
suggested — If this be the Basilica of the Imperial Palace, can it be, or rather, can it fail to be, the spot where Paul stood eighteen hundred years ago, prosecuting his (t appeal unto Caesar,” and where he probably confronted, at all events at his first trial, the Emperor himself? If the opinion of some archaeological authorities be correct, viz., that the Basilica discovered is of the age of Domitian, then, of course, these pavements and fragmentary columns could not have belonged to the judiciary tribunal before which the Apostle pleaded his cause. But I venture the
* So remarkable is this uniformity of the Basilica type in the Roman places of worship, that it becomes a positive relief and refreshment to the eye to gaze once more on the interiors of the Gothic Cathedrals and Churches of the North and West.
assertion on the authority of one whose testimony is worthy of all credit, that if we are forced to surrender the claims of this precise building as belonging to the Pauline age, we may feel the strong certainty, at all events, that it occupies the very same position with the Court where the Apostle stood, though possibly on a lower level. Because, although the building itself from time to time, whether under Domitian or Vespasian, might undergo alteration, there was no great likelihood of any such in the site. Moreover, the form and construction of the Court itself was equally stereotyped and unchanging.
We felt therefore, in gazing upon it, making every allowance for uncertainty, how fully we could realise the actual scene on the two successive occasions in which “the Ambassador in bonds” was sisted before a human judge and judgment-seat. At the farther end, where that semicircular wall incloses the building, and elevated into a platform some five feet above the pavement, was the subsellia, where sat the judges, twenty in number, and these generally of Praetorian dignity; that central seat or throne (the “curule chair,” though it has no traces left of its inlay of gold and ivory) was reserved for the Emperor or his consular legate. The capricious monarch, in terms of the Roman constitution, acting as chief magistrate, frequently gave his personal presidency, wearing the imperial purple and surrounded by Lictors with their fasces; but in doing so, he was as frequently in the habit of ignoring the judicial wisdom of his assessors, and exercising the most absolute and despotic authority * Underneath this raised bench or tribune were ranged the subservient lawyers. Near that circular stone of Egyptian porphyry and granite in front of the tribune, stood an altar, on which the robed Senators laid their hands, and swore to judge righteous judgment. A few paces farther back, where there are still the remains
* See Josephus, xx. 8-11.
of a richly-wrought bar of marble, would stand the Apostle, chained by the arm to one of the Praetorian Guards, while his prosecutors would be seated near. There would be room also left for any advocate or advocates, who might be present to render assistance in pleading his cause. In his case we know there were none — “No man stood with me” (2 Tim. iv. 16)> The illustrious Confessor was left unaided to answer the successive counts or indictments. One Intercessor alone, mightier than the Caesars, was invisibly at his side: “Notwithstanding the Lord stood with me, and strengthened me” (2 Tim. iv. if). We may be sure that he who had so often appeared undaunted before the delegates of the imperial throne, did not quail when he was at last confronted with their master. “To him all the majesty of Roman despotism was nothing more than an empty pageant; — the imperial demigod himself was but one of the princes of this world that come to nought. Thus would he stand calm and collected, ready to answer the charges of his accusers, and knowing that, in the hour of his need, it should be given him what to speak.”* So many of the public, to whom the comparatively limited space could afford admission, would occupy the vacant space in the nave and aisles. Among these, on the present occasion, we may include exasperated Jews from Palestine,f Ephesus, and Greece; hating Gentiles; J as well as the few friends who dared thus venture on perilous ground to wrait the result of the pleadings; while the surmise has been made (I believe by De Rossi) regarding one of three lower platforms outside, which have been uncovered in the course of the excavations, that
* Howson and Conybeare, vol. ii. p. 457.
+ Josephus informs us that Ishmael the High Priest, accompanied by the u chief men” from Jerusalem, was in Rome in the year A.D. 61. A quarrel about the building of a wall was the ostensible reason, — the true one seems rather to point to the prosecution of their vengeance against the turbulent ringleader, their formidable adversary now on his trial.
J “So that all the Gentiles might hear” (2 Tim. iv. 17), indicating a large assemblage.
from it the verdict of the imperial tribunal was communicated, in cases of interest, to the crowd assembled below.
We can only further imagine the close of the trial. The verdict of each assessor was written on a tablet, and these collected were compared by the presiding judge. In the case of the Apostle, the momentous and decisive Latin word, CONDEMNO, uttered by the imperial delegate, would ring through the pillared hall and breathless audience, and perhaps thereafter be proclaimed to the multitude gathered beneath at the entrance to the Forum. He is now “ready to be offered,” and the time of his departure is at hand.
There is always a halo of interest surrounding the place associated with the closing The Mamerti?ie
hours of an illustrious man — the spot Dungeon. which witnessed the sun of a noble life hasting to its setting. Among other localities connected with St Paul’s Roman residence, we surely may inquire, with pardonable curiosity, regarding the dungeon to which he was remanded, probably for many months after his second trial; where, it may be, after the sentence of death was pronounced, he had his last touching interview with his dearest friends, and among these Pudens and Claudia; — where that affecting final letter was penned to his son Timothy, overflowing as it is alike with fidelity and affection; — the spot where the great champion, feeling that the long battle was over, could ungird his armour and say, “I have fought the good fight.”
It was with these thoughts uppermost, that I paid my first visit to “the Mamertine dungeon.’* Like other venerable relics of ancient Rome, it has given rise to an amicable war of opinion. But like not a few such disputed localities, as we shall presently find, it has had new and important light within a recent period, indeed within a few months, thrown on it.
For long a dungeon has been exhibited at the foot of the descent from the Capitol, below the small Church of S. Giuseppe dei Faleq;nami, close to the entrance to the tl™ ai £,rt~
o son of St
Forum, and beside the Arch of Septimius Severus. It consists of two chambers. My first exploration was under the torch-guidance of one of the ordinary ecclesiastic officials (never very satisfactory when you can have a better), who retailed the old baseless traditions, given by Baronius, of the impress of St Peter’s head on the wall — the pillar to which he and St Paul were bound for the space of nine months — and the fountain which miraculously burst forth to supply water for the baptism of the two gaolers, Processus and Martianus, with forty-seven other converted fellow-captives.* The dungeon itself is of undoubted antiquity; indeed,” one of the few monuments of the kingly period, built in the most massive style of Etruscan architecture, begun by Ancus Martius, and enlarged by Ser-
* This same fountain, on the authority of Plutarch, is as old as the days of Jugurtha!
vius TulHus, from whom it took the name of Tullian.” % It consists of two chambers, an upper and a lower (the upper is the older of the two), constructed of huge blocks of tufa, without cement, fastened together with iron rivets. One side of the lower chamber is excavated from the solid rock. There is a hole in the centre of the floor of the former, from which condemned prisoners were let down to await or undergo their fate. There can hardly be a doubt that these were the dungeons so accurately depicted by Livy as adjoining the Forum (“imminens Foro”). In the lower one, among a list of other victims, the miserable Jugurtha, King of Mauritania, was left to perish by starvation. It is thus circumstantially described by Sallust, in his account of the execution of Cataline’s conspirators: —” In the prison called Ter~ tullian, there is a place about ten feet deep, when you have descended a little to the left; it is surrounded on the sides by walls, and is
* Murray in loco* closed above by a vaulted roof of stone. The appearance of it, from the filth, the darkness, and the smell, is terrific.”*
Such is the dungeon which has long been associated in Christian legend with the last scenes in the life of St Peter and St Paul. In 1 commemoration of their imprisonment, deputies from all the Churches in Rome assemble by torch-light on the night of the 4th of July, and in solemn silence kneel in front of the traditional pillar, f While the antiquity of the cells, at present exhibited, is indisputable, a twofold reason militates against their ^mjn. „.
0 Difficulties
being accepted as the place of the *££%&£’ Apostle’s captivity. The first is, that suc ‘sa they were reserved for state prisoners; and it is more than doubtful if “the Missionary of the new relieion” would be included under that cate-
* See this and other details in Murray.
+ It will be observed that I have carefully abstained from entering on the vexed historical question of St Peter’s alleged residence, imprisonment, and martyrdom at Rome, as not falling within the scope of this volume.
gory; the second, that if there were no such restriction, and we are to consider them as the public prisons of Rome, their size would be manifestly inadequate for the criminal requirements of so vast a population. The question occurs — Could this cell of Tullian, and its still older adjunct, possibly not be only the outer portion or vestibule of a more extensive range of wards which the ardour and patience of the antiquary might yet discover? This is precisely
p babi e Pr°blem which, we believe, as we solution. now write) js in process of solution, if,
indeed, the solution is not already made. And here the public are again indebted to the singular enthusiasm and discernment of the President of the Roman Archaeological Society. It was my privilege to accompany him, shortly before leaving Rome, along with other friends, to a newly-discovered range of dungeons, in close proximity with the traditional Mamertine. Passing through a narrow street or lane, amid bales of unsightly goods — the most musty of merchandise — we descended by a stair into a spacious subterranean cellar, now converted into a wine-vault, and which is connected with a series of others. There is a large circular aperture in the roof of the principal one, by which, it may be confidently surmised, prisoners, as well as their food, must in ancient times have been lowered; and which in addition might serve for ventilation. The side walls are composed, as in the case of the present Tullian, of large blocks of volcanic tufa. The belief of the discoverer of these spacious substructions is, that they will be found to be the veritable wards or cells of the Great Prison, of which the one now exhibited formed a small integral portion. Indeed, he had succeeded in discovering a narrow passage (partially cleared when I saw it, for several yards) leading from the lower Mamertine, and which (by continuing still further the removal of the debris and rubbish which fills it up) may probably lead to an outlet in some of those grim wine-vaults wre had just explored. If his theory be correct, it may serve so far to demolish the old traditional association with the more limited dungeon below the Church of S. Giuseppe; but it would remove other difficulties; and in doing so would strengthen and confirm the belief that some one or other, at all events, of these gloomy underground cells must have been the place where the great Apostle bequeathed his dying testimony to the Church in all ages. We shall wait with interest the result of the excavations.
If the scene of St Paul’s last imprisonment have its mournful interest, so surely
The Scene 7 J
°£frfyr-ls must that of his martyrdom * The
worthless miracles which superstition
and credulity have clustered around the reputed
site are to be rejected without examination.
* Owing to his Roman citizenship, he was happily saved the horrors of the Amphitheatre, and the ignominy and torture of crucifixion. We are far from sure that he equally escaped the preliminary scourging by lictors rods, inflicted on those condemned to capital punishment.
But on reaching these gentle swells in the Campagna some three miles from the Ostian Gate, and which have long been marked by the Church of the ‘Tre Fontane, I had every reason to believe I was treading the spot where the Church on earth was called to mourn the greatest of her losses, and where the Church in heaven had added to her roll the most illustrious name in her noble army of martyrs. Amid the confusing network of Roman streets, and the changes to wThich the city’s crowded localities were subject, there might be more ground for hesitancy and debate regarding the precise position of the “lodging” and “hired house;” but the place of execution — one of the Tyburns of ancient Rome* — was not liable to such shiftings and vicissitudes. Besides, wre may feel assured
* This may not indeed have been the ordinary place of execution, or that in most frequent use. It may possibly rather have been the spot where capital punishment was inflicted in cases when, on account of sympathy with the prisoner, or the cause for which he suffered, publicity was to be avoided within the city itself.
the Faithful would not thus readily let go their recollection of what was invested with such sad yet glorious memories of suffering and triumph, — “the holiest spot in God’s acre.’’ The excursion to Aqua Salvia is not in itself an interesting one, so far as either ancient remains or modern surroundings are concerned, if we except the Temple of Vesta, and the recentlydiscovered “Marmorata.” The base of the old Aventine Hill is skirted on the left, and more than one near glimpse to the right is obtained of “the yellow Tiber,” with its mud banks; not rendered more picturesque, as we passed, by the recent calamitous inundations. The building which most deeply arrests on the way, alike from its own singularity and antiquity, is the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, close by the old Ostian Gate.* It possesses, moreover, this additional interest, that it was there when the unresisting prisoner was hurried by, under a sultry sun in the end of June, to the place of his exe-
* s
ee Engraving, p. ioo.
cution; so that, as it has been well said, “Among the works of man, that Pyramid is the only surviving witness of Paul’s martyrdom.” — (Howson and Conybeare) In passing along the straight road (probably, too, unchanged since chapeiof
the two
the first century), and which still con- Apostles. ducts to Ostia, the student interested in tracing the footsteps of the great Apostle, cannot resist pausing for a moment by the small inconspicuous chapel on the wayside, to mark one of the scenes which tradition, although without any authority, has grafted on this memorable last journey. In the rude bas-relief above the door, is a slab containing a representation of the supposed parting which here took place between St Peter and St Paul. The words alleged to have been spoken at this farewell interchange of affection, have as singular a quaintness about them as the sculptures they illustrate.
“And St Paul said to St Peter, Peace be with thee, Foundation of the Church, Shepherd of the flock of Christ.”
“And Peter said to Paul, Go in peace, Preacher of good tidings, and Guide of the salvation of the just,”
We may adopt the safe verdict of Dr Cave, the earliest English biographer of both Apostles (1676), that however fictitious may be this and other recorded incidents, <( the best is, which of them soever started first, they both came at last to the same end of the race; to those palms and crowns which are reserved for all good men in heaven.”
A little further on — if we may venture to refer Legend of to e one oter legend connected with Piautuia.. the martyrdom — Plautilla, a Christian matron and convert, placed herself by the wayside as the mournful crowd approached. She was desirous of obtaining a last look of the Apostle. She knelt as he passed, and with many tears besought his farewell blessing. The doomed prisoner made a request that she would give him her veil with which to cover his eyes, and that he would faithfully return the loan after death. The boon was granted; and, after his martyrdom, he was said to have appeared to her, and to have restored it stained with his blood*
Meanwhile, let us enter the Church of Tre Fontane. It is situated several hun- Church of
Tre Fondred yards to the left of the Ostian tan road. But for two churches adjoining, we should have said that it occupies a retired spot. Glimpses are obtained from it of Cavi, the Alban Hills, and the bright villas of Frescati. Imagination could vividly depict the tragic scene of that memorable day, eighteen hundred years ago. Ostia was not the deserted town which comparatively now it is, but one of the two “Liverpools of ancient Italy,” Puteoli being the other. The road to it, therefore, would not be, as at present, comparatively deserted in winter, and almost totally so in the summer
* I recognised this old legend represented in bas-relief on one of the colossal bronze doors in St Peter’s, which belonged to the old Basilica. St Paul is represented in the clouds restoring the veil.
months, when the malaria with its pall of death hangs over the blighted soil. It would be busy rather with traders and wayfarers passing to and from the capital and its maritime port Little would these crowds dream, as they were thus speeding along on their errands of business or pleasure, of all that was connected with that military escort — an unwonted cavalcade of soldiers, and the figure who walked calm and unruffled in their midst; or as, when pausing in that green hollow, they caught, it may be, in the bright sun, the flash of the executioner’s sword, which summoned the hero to his crown!
We shall not stop to enumerate the mythical tales and legends which the walls of this little church enshrine. These commemorations of the chisel are as painful and obtrusive in such a place, as are the modern whitewashed walls which surround the olives of Gethsemane. They do not serve in any degree to vivify remembrances, far less to foster hallowed emotion. More impressive far, it appeared to us, would it have been, had the lonely spot remained uncenotaphed, without stone or tree to mark it, allowing the meditative pilgrim himself to recall the reality, and wake up to the feeling, ‘Here the great Apostle died.’ In entering the church, a modern marble slab on the wall to the right, contains an effective bas-relief representing the swordsman completing his stern duty, and belowT it an inscription commencing writh the words, “Paulo — Gentium — Apostolo.” In the right of the transept is the traditional broken pillar, encircled by an iron railing, which formed the block for the executioner; while close by, are the three miraculous fountains, said to have burst forth at each bound as the severed head struck the earth. Over them are erected three altars, with a representation of St Paul in relief.*
* The water of the nearest of these fountains is said to be still warm, the second tepid, and the third cold! An archaeologist I incidentally met, conversant with Rome, and interested in the subjeat of my inquiries, mentioned, that four years
One other spot still claims reference, before
piac of completing these memories of St Paul
SBurtailand in Rome- We naturally pass from
the scene of his death to that of his
grave.
Whatever were the superstitious abuses to which the custom led, it was, we know, the habit of the Primitive Church most sacredly to guard the spot where martyr-blood was shed. St Cyprian is the interpreter, in a single sentence, of the sentiment of the faithful in these ages: “To the bodies of those who depart by the outlet of a glorious death, let a more zealous watchfulness be given.” Can we believe
ago, when visiting the Church of the Tre Fontane, he had the curiosity to measure the respective distances between the reputed pillar of martyrdom and the three miraculous fountains. It was exactly seven feet. He mentioned further, that though rejecting the tradition as utterly baseless, it was yet possible that a head could have made three such bounds after decapitation. In returning, however, recently to the same place, he found that the distance between these altars, over the reputed fountains, had been considerably and unscrupulously widened, so as better to suit architectural symmetry. Such is the versatility with which Rome can accommodate facts to aesthetic and other requirements!
that those who mingled in that weeping crowd on the Ostian way, would fail to secure for the mangled remains a loving burial? that those, in the same or in a subsequent age, who, by means of rude sarcophagi and inscriptions in the vaults of the Catacombs, took such pains to mark the dormitory of their sainted dead, would omit rearing a befitting memorial in the case of their illustrious spiritual chief? “The grave of St Paul,” says Chrysostom, “is well known” (Horn, in Heb. xxvi.); and the assertion of this eminent Father had an augmented meaning in after ages, in the many thousands of pilgrims from all lands who flocked to the reputed shrine of the great Apostle. Sa?i Paoiofuori-le-I can truly say, that independent alto- mura. gether of its associations with this devoted servant of his Lord, no Church in that city of churches (not even St Peter’s itself) so impressed me, as did this magnificent ecclesiastical monument, San Paolo-fuori-le-mura. It is situated nearly half-way between the Pyramid of Cestius and the Tre Fontane. It has no fascination, rather the reverse, in its outward architecture; but its interior consists of a vast Basilica, with a row of eighty Corinthian columns (monoliths) of polished granite. These were the gift of the Catholic sovereigns and princes of Europe, and are reflected, as in a sea of glass, in the floor of the nave and aisles. The original Church was built by the Emperor Constantine, A.D. 388, over the garden and cemetery, or rather catacomb, of a wealthy Roman matron converted to Christianity, named Lucina.* The building was enlarged under
* It was in this same Catacomb of St Lucina that Boldetti discovered an inscription remarkable for its antiquity. The accuracy of the date he assigned it (in the age of the Flavian Emperors, end of first century, and consequently about forty years after the interment of St Paul) has been confirmed by De Rossi. The translation on the slab is as follows: — “As a resting-place for Titus Flavius Eutychius, who lived nineteen years, eleven months, three days, his dearest friend, Marcus Orbius, gave this spot. Farewell, beloved.” It is surmised that the Catacomb may have been commenced as a place of Christian sepulture immediately after receiving the body of St Paul. — See Northcote ‘$ “Roma Sottera7iea” 1869.
successive Emperors, and attained great splendour under the Pontificate of Leo III. in the eighth century, when it had nearly double the number of its present columns, with mosaics, and altars of rare workmanship. It possessed this additional interest to the British visitor, that as the Church of St John Lateran was under the special guardianship of France, so that of St Paolo, previous to the Reformation, claimed as its protectors the sovereigns of England. A calamitous fire in 1823 reduced the beautiful pile almost to ashes. Among the few portions of value which escaped the ravages of the flames, were the mosaics of the thirteenth century on the western fagade, and on the vaults of the Tribune. In the frontispiece to this volume, although the colouring is intransferable, we give the gorgeous baldacchino which occupies the space between the transept and the nave, supported on four pillars of red oriental alabaster, with their gilded capitals and Gothic canopy. It surmounts the traditional tomb of the Apostle, and bears the superscription: — “tu es was election is, sancte paule apostole. Prdioator Veritas. In Universo Mundo.”
More striking to me than all that costly splendour, — more impressive even, had I seen it, than the hidden silver sarcophagus, surmounted with a golden cross of a hundred and fifty pounds weight, — were the Apostle’s own simple words. They seemed silently to suggest with what a sublime indifference, compared to nobler verities, he would have looked around on all that cold magnificence —
“MlHI VIVERE CHRISTUS EST, ET MORI LUCRUM.”
In gazing on the Apostle’s tomb, one other feature could not fail to arrest. In immediate Reputed juxtaposition with it, in front of the
To?nb of
Timothy, high altar, is a shrine of more modest pretensions, on which is inscribed the one name, which tells it own touching story —
“TIMOTHEI.” Here the ashes of the Apostle Timothy are said to rest. Strong is the temptation, for once, not too exactingly to demand or scrutinise authority for the truth of a legend in itself so beautiful, that these two honoured servants of Christ, who had loved and laboured, wept and prayed, sorrowed and rejoiced together, are now resting side by side, a true “family burying-place,” the father and his “own son in the faith,”*
* The last remembrance I have of that magnificent Basilica and its sepulchre, is not a pleasing one, and too faithfully attests the unchanged spirit and principles of the Papal Church. A friend had distributed, among the soldiers outside (who had gratefully accepted the boon), a few tracts, embodying simple truths, such as St Paul would have loved to inculcate; and which, moreover, could not have injured, in the remotest degree, the susceptibilities of the most fastidious ecclesiasticism. They were seized by the priest, who brought them to where I was standing at the tomb of the Apostle, and burnt them at the lamps which surround his shrine. It would have been alike unavailing and perilous, in such a place, to have ventured to remonstrate. I remembered the pillar in St Paul’s house in the Via Lata, the vase of blood, and the pendant fetter. That is Rome as she was — what she still would be. But I remembered, too, the silent voice in the pillar’s inscription. It was Paul’s own comment on the futile attempt to insult his ashes, “But the Word of God is not bound!”
After thus exploring, in a visit to Rome, all pictures that could be seen in connection with
and Statues
of st Paul, the great Apostle, perhaps these introductory remarks would be incomplete, if I did not add a few words from personal observation, regarding any memorials of him there to be seen in sculpture, painting, or medallion. We have it on the authority of Basil, in his Epistle to Julian, that portraits of the Apostles and martyrs existed from Apostolic times; and Ambrose speaks of an authentic portrait of St Paul.* Eusebius informs us that he had seen representations of the Apostles Peter and Paul in paintings. Chrysostom alludes to one which hung in his own chamber; and Augustine mentions “a certain Marcellina, who, in the second century, preserved in her Lararium, among her household gods, the images of Homer, Pythagoras, Jesus Christ, and Paul,”f And
* See Mr Hemans’ interesting work on Roman Antiquities, f See Mrs Jamieson’s “Sacred and Legendary Art.” Also Northcote in loco.
surely it would be nothing either strange or improbable, that the early- converts, who embraced some of the members of wealthy Roman families (living, too, as we have seen, in senatorial palaces), should endeavour to have the face and features of one they so much loved and honoured, perpetuated by the painter’s art.
In modern Rome, there is neither picture nor statue of him at all worthy of celebrity; not one which bears the impress of genius, such as the Moses of [Michael Angelo in St Pietro in Vinculi, or the grand heads of Jeremiah and Isaiah in the Sistine Chapel by the same great master. It is worthy of note, that in almost all the representations of the Ap istle which are to be found in the present day in the city of his martyrdom, whether early, mediaeval, or modern, there are these two peculiarities. He is seen with a sword in his hand, sometim leaning on it, sometimes holding it aloft, — the emblem of that sword of the Spirit with which he fought and conquered. Also, he is almost invariably depicted in conjunction with St Peter; the one as the Apostle of the circumcision sent to the Jews, the other of the uncircumcision — the Apostle of the Gentiles. The two best statues I can recall, are both comparatively modern — the colossal one at the foot of the flight of steps leading to the facade of St Peter’s, and another by Girometti adjoining the high altar in the San Paolo; but they are both too conventional, with the Grecian face and drapery. It is curious that the statue nearest to the little Church where the sermons which follow in this volume were delivered, was one of the Apostle, occupying the niche between two Doric columns in the Porta del Popolo; but it is poor, alike in sentiment and execution. “In the pictures of St Paul, the Greek type is also followed — the long flowing beard, blue tunic, and white mantle.”* The oldest one in Rome, of the single figure, was painted on the walls of the Cemetery of Priscilla in the second
* Jamieson.
or third century. He is there represented in the dress of a traveller, with sandalled feet — the Good Shepherd standing on his right, and the inscription above, “Paulus — Pastor — Apostolus.”* Next in point of age to this, is a mosaic in the Basilica of Sta Maria Maggiore. It is placed in the arch which separates the sanctuary from the nave. In the centre is a throne, with emblems from the Apocalypse, surmounted by a cross enriched with precious stones, and St Paul and St Peter on either side. The most valuable painting of the Apostle, as a mere work of art, is I believe in the Lateran, which at the time I was in Rome was closed. The best which came under my observation, although considerably damaged, was in the curious old Chapel adjoining the Basilica of St Agnese-fuori-le-mura. It is a fresco, not by the great Michael Angelo, but by his illustrious namesake Michael Angelo Carravaggio. The Apostle is represented in a contemplative attitude, with a book in one hand
*See Bosio, Sott., p. 519.
g6 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
and the sword, as usual, in the other. I noted a curious mosaic, supposed to be of date the thirteenth century, above the altar in St Clemente, and another painting in the tribune of St Paolo, in a lunette, representing the Apostle as borne by angels to heaven. In former years, among the ecclesiastical pageants which attracted multitudes at Easter to St Peter’s, was one at the close of Vespers on Monday. A Canon appeared on a balcony underneath the vast dome, and in sonorous voice announced that what were now exposed to the view of the faithful, were the famous portraits possessed by Pope Sylvester, — portraits which when shown by him to Constantine, were called by the Emperor “those gods named Peter and Paul.”* These and other similar pictures are interesting on account of their antiquity: but undoubtedly the noblest delineation of the Apostle ever executed in Rome, or by Italian painter, was that designed for one of the tapestries in the
* See Remans’ “Christian Rome,” p. 158.
Sistine Chapel, and which has now been for long the property of the British nation. Well has it been said of that great cartoon by no incompetent judge, “The sublimest ideal of embodied eloquence that ever was expressed in art, is Raphael’s ‘St Paul preaching at Athens,” * Yet the same writer, with equal discernment, expresses doubt whether Raphael did well in adopting so violent a departure from the traditional head (which was so much more expressive of the man of toil and care and sorrow, wasted with watchings and fastings), by substituting that of the conventional Jupiter.
The medallions, pictures on ancient glass, drinking vessels, and lamps, though Medal quaint, inartistic, and possessing a honSy c’ uniform type, are more interesting. One of those on glass, and one of the oldest, I copied as carefully as the hurried circumstances would permit from a case in the Library Museum
“Sacred and Legendary Art,” p. 226.
G of the Vatican. It is reproduced at the end of the preface to this volume. The execution of the picture, whoever may be the unknown limner, is rude, and the eye the most defective part of the face. It seems to be in accordance with other traditional representations — “the head bald, the nose aquiline, and beard graceful.” I am unable to decipher the meaning of the emblem above the head. In another similar glass vessel in the same compartment of the Museum, he is depicted surrounded with four scrolls. A copy of a valuable bronze medallion, three inches in diameter, of St Paul and St Peter, also in the Vatican, will be found carefully rendered in one of the engravings of Mrs Jamieson’s “Sacred and Legendary Art.” It is considered the earliest known representation of the Apostle, probably in the time of the Flavian Emperors. It was discovered by Boldetti in St Domitilla’s Cemetery, in the Catacombs of St Calixtus, and is artistically and classically executed. But it is at present in a portion of the Museum to which, when I was in Rome, the public were forbidden access.
And yet, after all, what is the worth of these imaginative representations? what, even st Paul’s
true porhad they been more reliable than they trait, are, would have been their intrinsic value, compared with the picture which, with photographic fidelity, the great Apostle has unconsciously given of himself as reflected in his Epistles. Character is the true portrait; the alone enduring frescoes are good words and noble deeds. Chrysostom truly speaks of him as “though only three cubits high, yet tall enough to reach heaven,” Great as were his teachings and writings, his life was greater still. He authorises, in one sense (to use the familiar phrase), the copying of his likeness: but thus the sanction runs, u Be ye also followers (copyers, imitators) of me, even as I (or rather, in as far as I) am a follower (a copyer) of Christ” (1 Cor. xi. 1). “Follow me — copy me,” as if he had said, “thus far, but no farther.” In another
place he gives the similar exhortation, when, holding up before the Church, not himself, but that One peerless, spotless Life and Example — (the only ideal and realisation of Christian perfection), — using too a word which has the meaning of “intently gazing” (like the intent gaze of a copyist in transferring to canvas or marble some great original) — ‘’Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, CON-SIDER... Christ Jesus? (Heb. iii. i).
ym.”
jupjjjjjBlS The Pyramid of Caius Cestius, and the Ostian Gate.