away at one fell stroke with the idea so long fondly cherished that
St. Paul must have passed under this very arch on his way to Rome, and
that his eye must have rested on these very stones upon which we gaze
now. It is hard to give up the belief that the stern old arch, severe
in its sturdiness and simplicity as the character of the apostle
himself, did actually cast its haunted shadow over him on the
memorable day when, a prisoner in chains in charge of a Roman soldier,
he passed over this part of the Appian Way, and it signalised a far
grander triumph than that for which it was originally erected. We
should greatly prefer to retain the old idea that under that arch
Christianity, as represented by St. Paul, passed to its conquest of
the whole Roman world; and passed too in character, the religion of
the cross, joy in sorrow, liberty in bonds, strength in weakness,
proclaiming itself best from the midst of the sufferings which it
overcame.

Immediately beyond the Arch of Drusus is the Gate of St. Sebastian,
the Porta Appia of the Aurelian wall, protected on either side by two
semicircular towers, which from their great height and massiveness
have a most imposing appearance. They are composed of the beautiful
glowing brick of the ancient Roman structures, and rest upon a
foundation of white marble blocks, evidently taken from the Temple of
Mars, which once stood close by, and at which the armies entering Rome
in triumph used to halt. The gateway was greatly injured in the sixth
century during the Gothic War, but was repaired by Belisarius; or, as
some say, by Narses. The most remarkable incident connected with it
since that period was the triumphal entry into the city of Marco
Antonio Colonna, after the victory of Lepanto over the Turks and
African corsairs in 1571. This famous battle, one of the few great
decisive battles of the world, belongs equally to civil and