Simon, a famous magician among the Jews, had astonished the whole city of Jerusalem by his wonderful feats; but his inventions and sorceries were overcome by the real miracles of Peter, as the Egyptian magi had been conquered by Aaron. He offered the apostles money to buy the secret of their power, which Peter rejected with indignation. St. Augustine tells us, as a characteristic trait of the fiery-spirited apostle, that ‘if he had fallen on the traitor Simon, he would certainly have torn him to pieces with his teeth.’ The magician, vanquished by a superior power, flung his books into the Dead Sea, broke his wand, and fled to Rome, where he became a great favourite of the Emperor Claudius, and afterwards of Nero. Peter, bent on counteracting the wicked sorceries of Simon, followed him to Rome. About two years after his arrival he was joined there by the Apostle Paul. Simon Magus having asserted that he was himself a god, and could raise the dead, Peter and Paul rebuked his impiety, and challenged him to a trial of skill in presence of the emperor. The arts of the magician failed; Peter and Paul restored the youth to life: and on many other occasions Simon was vanquished and put to shame by the miraculous power of the apostles. At length he undertook to fly up to heaven in sight of the emperor and the people; and, crowned with laurel, and supported by demons, he flung himself from a tower, and appeared for a while to float thus in the air: but St. Peter, falling on his knees, commanded the demons to let go their hold, and Simon, precipitated to the ground, was dashed to pieces.
This romantic legend, so popular in the middle ages, is founded on some antique traditions not wholly unsupported by historical testimony.
There can be no doubt that there existed in the first century a Simon, a Samaritan, a pretender to divine authority and supernatural powers; who, for a time, had many followers; who stood in a certain relation to Christianity; and who may have held some opinions more or less similar to those entertained by the most famous heretics of the early ages, the Gnostics. Irenæus calls this Simon the father of all heretics. ‘All those,’ he says, ‘who in any way corrupt the truth, or mar the preaching of the Church, are disciples and successors of Simon, the Samaritan magician.’ Simon gave himself forth as a god, and carried about with him a beautiful woman named Helena, whom he represented as the first conception of his—that is, of the divine—mind, the symbol or manifestation of that portion of spirituality which had become entangled in matter.[188]
The incidents of the story of Simon Magus have been often and variously treated.
1. By Quintin Matsys: Peter refuses the offer of Simon Magus—‘Thy money perish with thee!’ Here Peter wears the mitre of a bishop: the picture is full of coarse but natural expression.
2. ‘Peter and Paul accused before Nero:’ the fresco in the Brancacci Chapel, attributed by Kugler to Filippino Lippi, is certainly one of the most perfect pieces of art, as a dramatic composition, which we have before the time of Raphael. To the right the emperor is seated on his throne, on each side his ministers and attendants. The countenances are finely varied; some of them animated by attention and curiosity, others sunk in deep thought. The two apostles, and their accuser Simon Magus, are in front. Simon, a magnificent figure, who might serve for a Prospero, lays his hand on the vest of Peter, as if to drag him forward; Paul stands aside with quiet dignity; Peter, with a countenance full of energetic expression, points contemptuously to the broken idol at his feet. For the felicity and animation with which the story is told, and for propriety, grace, and grandeur, Raphael has not often exceeded this picture.
3. Another of the series of the life of Peter in the Brancacci Chapel is the resuscitation of the youth, who in the legend is called the nephew of the emperor; a composition of numerous figures. In the centre stands St. Peter, and before him kneels the youth; a skull and a few bones are near him—a naïve method of expressing his return from death to life. The variety of expression in the countenances of the assembled spectators is very fine. According to the custom of the Florentine school at that time, many are portraits of distinguished persons; and, considering that the fresco was painted at a period most interesting in the Florentine history (A.D. 1440), we have much reason to regret that these can no longer be discriminated.
4. ‘The Fall of Simon Magus’ is a favourite and picturesque subject, often repeated. A most ancient and most curious version is that on the walls of the Cathedral at Assisi, older than the time of Giotto, and attributed to Giunta Pisano. (A.D. 1232.) On one side is a pyramidical tower formed of wooden bars; Peter and Paul are kneeling in front; the figure of the magician is seen floating in the air and sustained by hideous demons;—very dreamy, poetical, and fanciful. In Mr. Ottley’s collection I saw a small ancient picture of the same subject, very curious, attributed to Benozzo Gozzoli. Raphael’s composition in the Vatican has the simplicity of a classical bas-relief,—a style which does not appear suited to this romantic legend. The picture by L. Caracci at Naples I have not seen. Over one of the altars of St. Peter, we now see the great mosaic, after Vanni’s picture of this subject; a clever commonplace treatment: the scene is an amphitheatre, the emperor above in his balcony; Peter and Paul in front, invoking the name of Christ, and Simon Magus tumbling headlong, forsaken by his demons; in the background sit the vestals. Battoni’s great picture in the S. Maria degli Angeli at Rome is considered his best production; it is full of well-studied academic drawing, but scenic and mannered.
The next subject in the order of events is styled the ‘Domine, quo vadis?’ After the burning of Rome, Nero threw upon the Christians the accusation of having fired the city. This was the origin of the first persecution, in which many perished by terrible and hitherto unheard-of deaths. The Christian converts besought Peter not to expose his life, which was dear and necessary to the well-being of all; and at length he consented to depart from Rome. But as he fled along the Appian Way, about two miles from the gates, he was met by a vision of our Saviour travelling towards the city. Struck with amazement, he exclaimed, ‘Lord! whither goest thou?’ to which the Saviour, looking upon him with a mild sadness, replied, ‘I go to Rome to be crucified a second time,’ and vanished. Peter, taking this for a sign that he was to submit himself to the sufferings prepared for him, immediately turned back, and re-entered the city. Michael Angelo’s famous statue, now in the church of S. Maria-sopra-Minerva at Rome, is supposed to represent Christ as he appeared to Peter on this occasion; and a cast or copy of it is in the little church of ‘Domine, quo vadis?’ erected on the spot sanctified by this mysterious meeting.