which imagination could fasten, and which it could readily invest with supernatural attributes. He who looked on the Apollo of the Belvedere with no other feeling than that he beheld the triumph of the sculptor's art in action and expression, was overcome with a religious awe when he gazed on the unmeaning faces and half-bestial forms of Egyptian deities. The genius of Rome was tolerant of all religions but the true; a hearty belief in the gods of his own Pantheon would not have prevented a Roman soldier from doing homage to those of the country in which he was quartered, and seeking thus to gain their favour or avert their displeasure. But this will not account for the extensive diffusion of the worship of Phrygia and Thrace, Persia and Egypt, throughout the Roman empire. It was certainly an indication of a restless longing for something that could supply nourishment to the craving for religious faith which exists in the heart of man, and feeds itself on superstition when it can find no purer aliment. Among the sights of modern Rome there is none more interesting than that long gallery of the Vatican called _Delle Lapidi_. On the right-hand wall are encased the sepulcral and other monuments of emperors, consuls and commanders of legions, with their numerous and pompous titles; inscriptions to the gods and their priests. The elaborate and tasteful ornaments, the finely-cut letters, the classical Latinity--all indicate the rank and station of those by whom or in whose honour they were raised. On the left are the Christian monuments, chiefly supplied by the Catacombs, which, during the ages of the obscurity and persecution of the Church, served the Christians for sanctuary and cemetery, and even for a temporary dwelling-place. The slabs from their tombs are of coarse material--not Parian, or Carrara marble, or Egyptian porphyry; the letters are rudely made, the spelling and the syntax betray the humble rank and imperfect literary attainments of those who supplied them. No mention is made of ample space allotted to the tomb, no anxious care is expressed to perpetuate the inheritance or provide for a long succession of occupants. The Christian perhaps fell asleep in the expectation that the second coming of his Lord, to call the tenants of the tomb to judgment, would not be delayed beyond a few years. The Roman of family had three names; the Christian had no _gens_ with which to claim affinity; he was a proletarian, a mere unit amidst the millions. One simple name served to identify him; his sepulcre might even be nameless--a circumstance of most rare occurrence in regard to Pagan tombs.[129] How strikingly does the contrast confirm the declaration of the Apostle, that "not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble were called."[130] But to this contrast there is another side. The heathen monuments represent a decayed and dying superstition; the Christian, a living and triumphant