‘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.
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.