Whilst in Rome at this time I tried to turn my visit to some account by restudying its Christian antiquities. Christian art in its early state is a subject illustrated by the Catacombs. The rude paintings and sculptures familiar to every Roman visitor, familiar by means of books to thousands who have never seen the originals, are historical and symbolic. Noah and the Ark, Abraham offering up Isaac, Moses receiving the law, Jonah and the whale, Daniel and the lions, the three Hebrews in the furnace—these have a Christian meaning, and point typically to truths respecting Christ’s redemption. Subterranean Rome, it has been well said by a French author, is “_a living book_, palpable, everlasting,” and there are written on its pages, in hieroglyphic ways, truths which are held by all true Christians, whether Protestant or Catholic. The Agape or love-feast, a ship emblematic of the Church, the cross, the fish, the dove, and other well-known signs of Christ and His salvation, occur over and over again. Also there are historical pictures of the Nativity, and of Peter denying his Master. Portraits also are found of Christ, of Peter, of Paul. The Virgin Mary is seen by the side of her husband, whilst the Holy Child, like an Italian bambino, lies in His cradle, an ox licking His feet; close by, the Magi are watching stars in the east. No picture or image of the Virgin, in solitary magnificence, at all resembling the Madonnas of a later period, so far as I can make out, has been discovered in the Catacombs. The contrast between the early attempts and the later achievements of Roman Christian art in doctrinal significance, as well as in imaginative conception and technical skill, is obvious and striking. To pass from the former to the latter requires an immense stride; to go from examining early representations of gospel facts and principles, to look round churches and galleries rich in the works of modern Catholic artists, is to exchange worlds. The difference in religious meaning is as great as the difference in artistic merit. During this visit to Rome some remarkable religious meetings were conducted by Dr. A. N. Somerville, of Glasgow, who in other parts of Italy the same spring, held revivalistic Protestant services. Those at Rome occurred on a spot, to reach which many citizens had to cross a bridge with a toll bar on it. Notwithstanding, on the evening when we attended, I should think about eight hundred people were present. The preacher could not speak Italian, and what he said was translated into that language, by a native Protestant. Everything was skilfully managed, and the effect appeared on the whole, solemn and impressive. Congregations after the same methods had been previously gathered in Florence, where the addresses, according to report, had produced considerable impression. Sankey’s hymns, translated into Italian, were sung at Rome, with Sankey’s tunes; how far solid evangelical results followed I could not ascertain.