_Lat._ SS. Petrus et Paulus. _Ital._ San Pietro or Piero, San Paolo.
_Fr._ S. Pierre, S. Paul. _Spa._ San Pedro, San Pablo. (June 29 and
30.)
I have already observed, that, as apostles and preachers of the word,
St. Peter and St. Paul take the first place. Even during their lives,
a superiority was accorded to them; and this superiority, as the
acknowledged heads and founders of the Christian Church, under Christ,
has been allowed down to the present time. The precedence is by common
consent given to St. Peter; but they are held to be equal in faith, in
merit, and in sanctity.
The early Christian Church was always considered under two great
divisions: the church of the converted Jews, and the church of the
Gentiles. The first was represented by St. Peter, the second by St.
Paul. Standing together in this mutual relation, they represent the
universal Church of Christ; hence in works of art they are seldom
separated, and are indispensable in all ecclesiastical decoration.
Their proper place is on each side of the Saviour, or of the Virgin
throned; or on each side of the altar; or on each side of the arch
over the choir. In any case, where they stand together, not merely as
Apostles, but Founders, their place is next after the Evangelists and
the Prophets.
[Illustration: 66 St. Paul St. Peter (Crivelli)]
Thus seen almost everywhere in companionship, it becomes necessary
to distinguish them from each other; for St. Peter does not always
bear his keys, nor St. Paul his sword. In the earliest examples, these
attributes are wholly omitted; yet I scarcely know any instance in
which a distinct type of head has not been more or less attended to.
[Illustration: 67 St. Peter (Greek type, eleventh century)]
The ancient Greek type of the head of St. Peter, ‘the Pilot of the
Galilean lake,’ is so strongly characterised as to have the air of
a portrait. It is either taken from the description of Nicephorus,
so often quoted, or his description is taken from some very ancient
representation: it certainly harmonises with all our preconceived
notions of St. Peter’s temperament and character. He is a robust
old man, with a broad forehead, and rather coarse features, an open
undaunted countenance, short grey hair, and short thick beard, curled,
and of a silvery white: according to the descriptive portrait of
Nicephorus, he had red weak eyes,—a peculiarity which it has not been
thought necessary to preserve in his effigies. In some early pictures
he is bald on the top of the head, and the hair grows thick around in a
circle, somewhat like the priestly tonsure; and in some examples this
tonsure has the form of a triple row of curls close to the head, a kind
of tiara. A curious exception to this predominant, almost universal,
type is to be found in Anglo-Saxon Art,[161] where St. Peter is always
beardless, and wears the tonsure; so that but for the keys, suspended
to a ring on his finger, one might take him for an elderly monk. It is
a tradition that the Gentiles shaved the head of St. Peter in order
to make him an object of derision, and that this is the origin of the
priestly tonsure.
[Illustration: 68 St. Peter with one Key (Taddeo Gaddi)]
The dress of St. Peter in the mosaics and Greek pictures is a blue
tunic, with white drapery thrown over it, but in general the proper
colours are a blue or green tunic with yellow drapery. On the early
sarcophagi, and in the most ancient church mosaics, he bears merely
a scroll or book, and, except in the character of the head, he is
exactly like St. Paul: a little later we find him with the cross in
one hand, and the Gospel in the other. The keys in his hand appear
as his peculiar attribute about the eighth century. I have seen him
with one great key, but in general he carries two keys, one of gold
and one of silver, to absolve and to bind; or, according to another
interpretation, one is of gold and one of iron, opening the gates
of heaven and hell: occasionally, but rarely, he has a third key,
expressing the dominion over heaven, and earth, and hell.[162]
St. Paul presents a striking contrast to St. Peter, in features as
in character. There must have existed effigies of him in very early
times, for St. Augustine says that a certain Marcellina, living in the
second century, preserved in her Lararium, among her household gods,
‘the images of Homer, Pythagoras, Jesus Christ, and Paul the apostle.’
Chrysostom alludes to a portrait of Paul which hung in his chamber,
but unfortunately he does not describe it. The earliest allusion to
the personal appearance of St. Paul occurs in Lucian, where he is
styled, in a tone of mocking disparagement, ‘the bald-headed Galilean
with a hook-nose.’ The description given by Nicephorus, founded, we
may presume, on tradition and on the existing portraits, has been the
authority followed in the early representations. According to the
ancient tradition, Paul was a man of small and meagre stature, with
an aquiline nose, a high forehead, and sparkling eyes. In the Greek
type the face is long and oval, the nose aquiline, the forehead high
and bald, the hair brown, the beard long, flowing and pointed, and of
a dark brown (in the Greek formula it is said that his beard should
be greyish—I recollect no instance of St. Paul with a grey beard);
his dress is like St. Peter’s, a blue tunic and white mantle; he has
a book or scroll in one hand, sometimes twelve rolls, which designate
his epistles. He bears the sword, his attribute in a double sense; it
signifies the manner of his martyrdom, and it is emblematical of the
good fight fought by the faithful Christian, armed with ‘the sword of
the Spirit, which is the word of God’ (Ephes. vi. 17). The life of
St. Paul, after his conversion, was, as we know, one long spiritual
combat:—‘perplexed, but not in despair; cast down, but not destroyed.’
[Illustration: 69 St. Paul (Greek type, eleventh century)]
These traditional characteristic types of the features and persons
of the two greatest apostles were long adhered to. We find them most
strictly followed in the old Greek mosaics, in the early Christian
sculpture, and the early pictures; in all which the sturdy dignity
and broad rustic features of St. Peter, and the elegant contemplative
head of St. Paul, who looks like a Greek philosopher, form a most
interesting and suggestive contrast. But, in later times, the old
types, particularly in the head of St. Paul, were neglected and
degraded. The best painters took care not to deviate wholly from the
square head and short grey beard of St. Peter; but, from the time of
Sixtus IV., we find substituted for the head of St. Paul an arbitrary
representation, which varied according to the model chosen by the
artist—which was sometimes a Roman porter or a German boor; sometimes
the antique Jupiter or the bust of a Greek rhetorician.
I shall now give some examples, in chronological order, of the two
great Apostles represented together, as Founders of the Church.
On the early sarcophagi (from A.D. 321 to 400), St. Peter and St. Paul
stand on each side of the Saviour. The former bears a cross, and is
generally on the left hand of Christ. The cross given to Peter, and
often set with jewels, is supposed to refer to the passage in St.
John, xxi. 19, ‘Signifying by what death he should die:’ but it may
surely bear another interpretation, i.e. the spirit of Christianity
transmitted to all nations by the first and greatest of the Apostles.
St. Paul carries a roll of writing; he has a very high bald forehead:
in other respects the two Apostles are not particularly discriminated;
they wear the classical costume.[163] Similar figures of Peter and
Paul occur on the ancient glass drinking-vessels and lamps preserved
in the Vatican; but the workmanship is so rude, that they are merely
curiosities, and cannot be cited as authorities.
MOSAIC (Rome, A.D. 443) in Santa Maria Maggiore, over the arch which
separates the sanctuary from the nave. We have in the centre a throne,
on which lies the roll, sealed with seven seals; above the throne rises
a cross set with precious stones; on each side of the throne, St.
Peter and St. Paul; they have no attributes, are habited in classical
draperies, and the whole representation is strictly antique in style,
without a trace of any of the characteristics of Mediæval Art. This
is the oldest representation I have met with next to those on the
sarcophagi.
MOSAIC (Rome, 6th century) in the church of Santa Sabina on the
interior of the arch over the door. We find on one side St. Peter, on
the other St. Paul. Under St. Peter stands a graceful female figure,
veiled, and inscribed _Ecclesia ex circumcisione;_ under St Paul, a
female figure, crowned, and inscribed _Ecclesia ex gentibus_.
MOSAIC (Rome, A.D. 526) in St. Cosmo and St. Damian, on the vault of
the apsis. Christ stands in the centre, sustained by clouds; his right
hand is raised in the attitude of one who exhorts (not blessing, as
is the usual manner); the left hand holds the book of life; at his
feet flows the river Jordan, the symbol of Baptism. On each side, but
lower down and much smaller in size, stand St. Peter and St. Paul; they
seem to present St. Cosmo and St. Damian to the Saviour. Beyond these
again, on either side, stand St. Theodore and the pope (Felix I.) who
dedicated the church. Palm trees, and a Phœnix crowned with a starry
glory, emblems of Victory and Immortality, close this majestic and
significant composition on each side. Here St. Peter and St. Paul are
dignified figures, in which the Greek type is strongly characterised;
they wear long white mantles, and have no attributes.
MOSAIC (Milan, 9th century), in Sant’ Ambrogio. Christ enthroned
presents the Gospel to St. Paul, and the two keys to St. Peter.
MOSAIC (A.D. 936) on the tomb of Otho II. St. Peter and St. Paul
together, rather more than half length, and above life size. St. Peter
has three keys, suspended on a ring; St. Paul, the book and sword.
The original mosaic is preserved in the Vatican, and a copy is in the
Lateran. This relic is, as a document, invaluable.
MOSAIC (A.D. 1216-1227), in the apsis of the old basilica of St. Paul.
Christ is seated on a throne, with the cruciform glory and his name
ĪC̄. X̄C̄.: the right hand gives the benediction in the Greek form;
he holds in his left an open book, inscribed VENITE BENEDICTI PATRIS
MEI PERCIPITE REGNUM. (Matt. xxv. 34.) On the left, St. Peter with
his right hand raised to Christ, and an open scroll in his left hand,
inscribed TU ES CHRISTUS FILIUS DEI VIVI. On the other side of Christ,
St. Paul; his right hand on his breast, and in his left a scroll with
these words, IN NOMINE JESU OMNE GENU FLECTATUR CŒLESTIUM TERRESTRIUM
ET INFERNORUM. (Phil. xi. 10.) Beyond St. Peter stands his brother St.
Andrew; and beyond St. Paul his favourite disciple Luke. At the foot of
the throne kneels a diminutive figure of the pope, Honorius III., by
whom the mosaic was dedicated. Palm-trees close the composition on each
side; underneath runs the frieze of the Twelve Apostles, described at
p. 173.
MOSAIC (12th century) in the Cathedral of Monreale at Palermo. St.
Peter and St. Paul are seated on splendid thrones on each side of
the tribune; St. Peter holds in his left hand a book, and the right,
which gives the benediction, holds also the two keys: over his head is
inscribed, SANCTUS PETRUS PRINCEPS APOSTOLORUM CUI TRADITÆ SUNT CLAVES
REGNI CŒLORUM. St. Paul holds the sword with the point upwards like a
sceptre, and the book as usual: the intellectual Greek character of
the head is strongly discriminated. The inscription is, SANCTUS PAULUS
PRÆDICATOR VERITATIS ET DOCTOR GENTIUM GENTI.
Among the rich and curious bas-reliefs in front of the church of St.
Trophime at Arles, we have St. Peter and St. Paul seated together
receiving the souls of the just. Each has two souls in his lap, and the
Archangel Michael is bringing another.
In pictures, their proper place, as I have observed, is on each side of
the throne of the Redeemer, or on each side of the Virgin and Child:
sometimes they are standing together, or reading in the same book.
This must suffice for the devotional treatment of St. Peter and St.
Paul, when represented as joint founders and patrons of the universal
Christian Church. Before I notice those historical subjects in which
they appear together, I have to say a few words of the manner in which
they are treated separately and distinctly. And first of St. Peter.
* * * * *
The various events of the life of St. Peter are recorded in the Gospels
and the Acts so minutely, that they may be presumed to be familiar to
all readers. From these we may deduce his character, remarkable for
fervour and energy rather than sustained power. His traditional and
legendary history is full of incidents, miracles, and wonderful and
picturesque passages. His importance and popularity, considered as
Prince of the Apostles and Founder of the Church of Rome, have extended
with the influence of that powerful Church of which he is the head and
representative, and multiplied, almost to infinitude, pictures and
effigies of him in his individual character, as well as historical
representations of his life and actions, wherever his paramount dignity
is admitted.
It struck me, when wandering over the grand old churches of Ravenna,
where the ecclesiastical mosaics are the most ancient that exist, and
still in wonderful preservation, that St. Peter and St. Paul do not
often appear, at least are in no respect distinguished from the other
apostles. Ravenna, in the fifth century, did not look to Rome for her
saints. On the other hand, among the earliest of the Roman mosaics,
St. Peter is sometimes found sustaining the throne of Christ, without
his companion St. Paul; as in S. Maria-in-Trastevere, S. Maria Nuova,
and others. At Rome, St. Peter is _the_ Saint, the _Santissimo_. The
secession of the Protestant Church dimmed his glory as Prince of the
Apostles and universal Saint; he fell into a kind of disrepute as
identified with the See of Rome, which exposed his effigies, in England
and Scotland particularly, to a sweeping destruction. Those were
disputatious days; and Peter, the affectionate, enthusiastic, devoted,
but somewhat rash apostle, veiled his head to the intellectual,
intrepid, subtle philosopher Paul.
* * * * *
Let us now see how Art has placed before us the sturdy Prince of the
Apostles.
I have already mentioned the characteristic type which belongs to him,
and his prevalent attributes the key, the cross, the book. When he
figures among the disciples in the Gospel stories, he sometimes holds
the fish as the symbol of his original vocation: if the fish be given
to him in single devotional figures, it signifies also Christianity, or
the rite of Baptism.
The figures of St. Peter standing, as Apostle and Patron Saint,
with book and keys, are of such perpetual occurrence as to defy all
attempts to particularise them, and so familiar as to need no further
illustration.[164]
Representations of him in his peculiar character of Head and Founder of
the Roman Church, and first universal bishop, are less common. He is
seated on a throne; one hand is raised in the act of benediction; in
the other he holds the keys, and sometimes a book or scroll, inscribed
with the text, in Latin, ‘Thou art Peter, and on this rock have I built
my Church.’ This subject of the throned St. Peter is very frequent
in the older schools. The well-known picture by Giotto, painted for
Cardinal Stefaneschi, now in the sacristy of the Vatican, is very
fine, simple and solemn. In a picture by Cima da Conegliano,[165]
St. Peter is not only throned, but wears the triple tiara as pope;
the countenance is particularly earnest, fervent, almost fiery in
expression: the keys lie at his feet; on one side stands St. John the
Baptist, on the other St. Paul.
As a deviation from the usual form of this subject, I must mention an
old bas-relief, full of character, and significantly appropriate to
its locality the church of San Pietro-in-Vincoli, at Rome. St. Peter,
enthroned, holds in one hand the keys and the Gospel; with the other he
presents his chains to a kneeling angel: this unusual treatment is very
poetical and suggestive.
[Illustration: 70]
There are standing figures of St. Peter wearing the papal tiara, and
brandishing his keys, as in a picture by Cola dell’ Amatrice (70). And
I should think Milton had some such picture in his remembrance when he
painted _his_ St. Peter:—
Last came and last did go
The pilot of the Galilean Lake;
Two massy keys he bore of metals twain,
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain,)
He shook his _mitred_ locks, and stern bespake.
When, in devotional pictures, St. Peter is accompanied by another
apostle with no distinctive attributes, we may suppose it to be St.
Mark, who was his interpreter, companion, and amanuensis at Rome.
According to an early tradition, the Gospel of St. Mark was written
down from the dictation of St. Peter.[166] In a miniature frontispiece
to St. Mark’s Gospel, the evangelist is seated writing, and St. Peter
stands opposite, as if dictating. In a picture by Angelico,[167] Peter
is preaching from a pulpit to a crowd of people: Mark, seated on one
side, is diligently taking down his words. In a very fine picture by
Bonvicino[168] they stand together; St. Peter is reading from a book;
St. Mark holds a scroll and inkhorn; he is submitting to St. Peter the
Gospel he has just penned, and which was afterwards confirmed by the
apostle.
Lastly, a magnificent Venetian picture[169] represents St. Peter
throned as bishop, with an earnest and rather stern countenance; he
holds a book in his hand; two angels with musical instruments are
seated on the steps of his throne: on his right hand stand John the
Baptist, and St. Jerome as cardinal; on his left St. Ambrose; while St.
Mark bends over a book, as if reading to this majestic auditory.
* * * * *
Those scenes and incidents related in the Gospels in which St. Peter is
a principal or conspicuous figure, I shall enlarge upon when treating
of the life of Christ, and will only indicate a few of them here, as
illustrating the manner in which St. Peter is introduced and treated in
such subjects.
We have, first, the Calling of Peter and Andrew in a picture by
Basaiti,[170] where the two brothers are kneeling at the feet of
the Saviour; the fishing-boats and the Lake of Gennesareth in the
background: and in the beautiful fresco by Ghirlandajo in the Sistine
Chapel, where a number of contemporary personages are introduced as
spectators. St. Andrew presenting St. Peter to our Saviour (as in a
picture by Cavalucci, in the Vatican), is another version of the same
subject; or St. Andrew is seen at the feet of Christ, while St. Peter
is sitting on the edge of the boat, or descending from it in haste.
‘Christ walking on the Sea’ is a familiar and picturesque subject, not
to be mistaken. The most ancient and most celebrated representation
is Giotto’s mosaic (A.D. 1298), now placed in the portico of St.
Peter’s, over the arch opposite to the principal door. The sentiment
in the composition of this subject is, generally, ‘Lord, help me; or I
perish:’ St. Peter is sinking, and Christ is stretching out his hand to
save him. It is considered as a type of the Church in danger, assailed
by enemies, and saved by the miraculous interposition of the Redeemer;
and in this sense must the frequent representations in churches be
understood.
In the ‘Miraculous Draught of Fishes,’ St. Peter is usually on his
knees looking up with awe and gratitude:—‘Depart from me, O Lord! for
I am a sinful man.’ The composition of Raphael (the cartoon at Hampton
Court) is just what we should seek for in Raphael, a masterpiece of
dramatic expression,—the significant, the poetical, the miraculous
predominating. The composition of Rubens, at Malines, which deserves
the next place, should be looked at in contrast, as an instance of
the picturesque and vigorous treatment equally characteristic of the
painter;—all life and reality, even to the glittering fish which tumble
in the net. ‘St. Peter finding the tribute money’ is a subject I have
seldom met with: the _motif_ is simple, and not to be mistaken.
In all the scenes of the life of our Saviour in which the apostles are
assembled,—in the Transfiguration, in the Last Supper, in the ‘Washing
the Feet of the Disciples,’ in the scene of the agony and the betrayal
of Christ,—St. Peter is introduced as a more or less prominent figure,
but always to be distinguished from the other apostles. In the third of
these subjects, the washing of the feet, St. Peter generally looks up
at Christ with an expression of humble expostulation, his hand on his
head: the sentiment is—‘Not my feet only, but my hands and my head.’
In the scene of the betrayal of Christ, St. Peter cutting off the ear
of Malthus is sometimes a _too_ prominent group; and I remember an old
German print in which St. Peter having cut off the ear, our Lord bends
down to replace it.[171]
‘St. Peter denying the Saviour’ is always one of the subjects in the
series of the Passion of Christ. It occurs frequently on the ancient
sarcophagi as the symbol of repentance, and is treated with classical
and sculptural simplicity, the cock being always introduced, as in the
illustration (71): it is here to be understood as a general emblem of
human weakness and repentance. As an action separately, or as one of
the series of the life and actions of Peter, it has not been often
painted; it seems to have been avoided in general by the early Italian
painters as derogatory to the character and dignity of the apostle.
The only examples I can recollect are in the later Italian and Flemish
schools. Teniers has adopted it as a vehicle for a guard-room scene;
soldiers playing at cards, bright armour, &c. Rembrandt has taken it as
a vehicle for a fine artificial light; and, for the same reason, the
Caravaggio school delighted in it. The maiden, whose name in the old
traditions is Balilla, is always introduced with a look and gesture of
reproach, and the cock is often perched in the background.
[Illustration: 71 Repentance of Peter (Sarcophagus, third century)]
‘Christ turned and looked upon Peter:’ of this beautiful subject,
worthy of Raphael himself, I can remember no instance.
The ‘Repentance of Peter’ is a subject seldom treated in the
earlier schools of Italy, but frequently by the later painters, and
particularly by the Bologna school; in some instances most beautifully.
It was a subject peculiarly suited to the genius of Guercino, who
excelled in the expression of profound rather than elevated feeling.
There is a manner of representing the repentance of Peter which seems
peculiar to Spanish Art, and is more ideal than is usual with that
school. Christ is bound to a column and crowned with thorns; St.
Peter kneels before him in an attitude of the deepest anguish and
humiliation, and appears to be supplicating forgiveness. Except in
the Spanish school, I have never met with this treatment. The little
picture by Murillo[172] is an exquisite example; and in the Spanish
Gallery are two others, by Pedro de Cordova and Juan Juanes:—in the
former, St. Peter holds a pocket-handkerchief with which he has been
wiping his eyes, and the cock is perched on the column to which our
Saviour is bound.
Another ideal treatment we find in a picture by Guercino; St. Peter
is weeping bitterly, and opposite to him the Virgin is seated in
motionless grief.
Half-length figures of St. Peter looking up with an expression of
repentant sorrow, and wringing his hands, are of frequent occurrence,
more especially in the later followers of the Bologna and Neapolitan
schools of the seventeenth century: Ribera, Lanfranco, Caravaggio,
and Valentin. In most of these instances, the total absence of ideal
or elevated sentiment is striking;—any old bearded beggar out of the
streets, who could cast up his eyes and look pathetic, served as a
model.