no one can escape, is symbolical of human
life. At the time of the Crusades, church labyrinths began to be used
for a practical purpose. The faithful were wont to go over the
meandering paths on their knees, murmuring prayers in memory of the
passion of the Lord. Under the influence of this practice the classic
and Carolingian name--labyrinth--was forgotten; and the new one of
_rues de Jerusalem_, or _leagues_, adopted. The _rues de Jerusalem_ in
the cathedral at Chartres, designed in blue marble, were 666 feet
long; and it took an hour to finish the pilgrimage. Later the
labyrinths lost their religious meaning, and became a pastime for
idlers and children. The one in the church at Saint-Omer has been
destroyed, because the celebration of the office was often disturbed
by irreverent visitors trying the sport.[22]

In Rome we have several instances of these private artistic
contributions in the service of churches. The pavement of S. Maria in
Cosmedin is the joint offering of many parishioners; and so were those
of S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura and S. Maria Maggiore before their modern
restoration. The names of Beno de Rapiza, his wife Maria Macellaria,
and his children Clement and Attilia are attached to the frescoes of
the lower church of S. Clemente; and that of Beno alone to the
paintings of S. Urbano alla Caffarella. In the apse of S. Sebastiano
in Pallara, on the Palatine, and in that of S. Saba on the Aventine,
we read the names of a Benedictus and of a Saba, at whose expense the
apses were decorated.

We cannot help following with emotion the development of this artistic
feeling even among the lowest classes of mediaeval Rome.[23] We read of
an AEgidius, son of Hippolytus, a shoemaker of the Via Arenula, leaving
his substance to the church of S. Maria de Porticu, with the request
that it should be devoted to the building of a chapel, "handsome and
handsomely painted, so that everybody should take delight in looking
at it." Such feelings, exceptional in many Italian provinces, were
common throughout Tuscany. When the triptych of Duccio Buoninsegna,
now in the "Casa dell' opera" at Siena, was carried from his studio to
the Duomo, June 9, 1310, the whole population followed in a triumphant
procession. Renzo di Maitano, another Sienese artist of fame, had the
soul of a poet. He was the first to advocate the erection of a church,
"grand, beautiful, magnificent, whose just proportions in height,
breadth, and length shoul