IX

[19]Genesis, chapter i verses 26-27; chapter ii verse 7.

"And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.

"So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him.... And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul."

Michelangelo takes these words, and expresses, in his own way, the supreme creative moment when "man became a living soul."

The man Adam lies on a jutting promontory of the newly made land. Though his body is formed, he lacks as yet the inner force to use it; he is not yet alive. The Creator is borne along on a swirling cloud of cherubs, moving forward through space like a rushing mighty wind. Perhaps the painter was thinking of the psalmist's beautiful description of God's coming:[20]"He rode upon a cherub, and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind."

[20]Psalm xviii, verse 10.

THE CREATION OF MAN. Sistine Chapel, Rome.THE CREATION OF MAN.Sistine Chapel, Rome.

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In His fatherly face is expressed the good purpose to create a son "in his own image." Thecherubic host accompanying him are full of joy and awe. We are reminded of that time of which the poet Milton wrote,[21]when

"AllThe multitude of angels, with a shoutLoud as from numbers without number, sweetAs from blest voices, uttering joy,—Heaven rungWith jubilee, and loud hosannas filledThe eternal regions."

[21]Paradise Lost, book iii. lines 344-349.

The sign of the Almighty's creative power is the outstretched arm extended towards Adam with a superb gesture of command. As if in answer to the divine summons, the lifeless figure begins to stir, rising slowly to a sitting posture. The face turns towards the source of life as the flower turns to the sun. The eyes are lifted to the Creator's with a wistful yearning. It is the look we sometimes see in the eyes of a woodland creature appealing for mercy. It is such a look as might belong to that imaginary being of the Greek mythology, the faun, half beast, half human. Thus Adam, still but half created, begins to feel the thrill of life in his members, and is aroused to action. He lifts his hand to meet the Creator's outstretched finger. The current of life is established, the vital spark is communicated, and in another moment Adam will rise in his full dignity as a human soul.

This picture was painted long before there was any knowledge of electricity, of electric sparks, and electric currents. Yet, if we did not know otherwise, we might fancy that Michelangelo had someof these wonderful ideas of modern science in mind, as the symbols of the great thoughts he was trying to express.

The picture suggests to our latter day scientific imagination that God's currents of power move as silently, as swiftly, as invisibly and mysteriously as the currents of electricity. The painter meant to show that the work of creation was not a mechanical effort of the Almighty, but that with him a gesture, a word, even a thought, brings something into being.

The series of which this picture forms a part is painted in fresco on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, in the Pope's palace of the Vatican, Rome. To break up the monotony of the long plain surface he had to decorate, the painter divided the strip of space in the centre into nine compartments. These are separated from each other by a painted architectural framework, so cunningly represented that it seems to project from the ceiling like a solid structure of beams.

Our illustration shows a portion of the simulated framework which incloses the picture. On what appears to be a pedestal at each corner is a seated figure representing a statue. One is a beautiful youth with a horn of plenty, and the other is a faun-like creature capering gayly. The purpose of these figures is decorative, like those in the background of the Holy Family.

Michelangelo's decoration of the Sistine Chapel ceiling did not stop with the series of panels running along the flat space in the centre. On either side, where the ceiling arches to meet the side walls, he painted a row of figures, which seem to be seated in sculptured niches. There are twelve of these figures in all, and seven of them are Hebrew prophets.

The prophets were holy men of old, who walked with God, and carried his messages among men. They were men of great courage and conviction, fearlessly denouncing the sins of their times. Sometimes they were great reformers, bringing about by their preaching an improved condition of things. Often their mission was to arouse hope in discouragement, to strengthen faith in a happier time to come. They looked forward to a future day, when the Prince of Peace should reign in the earth.

Jeremiah was a prophet of Judah during the corrupt and troublous times in the reigns of Josiah, Jehoiakim, and Zedekiah. He has been compared by a recent writer[22]to "a Puritan living in the age of the Stuarts, to a Huguenot living in the age ofthe Medici, or a Savonarola living in the age of Pope Alexander VI." He was born in Anathoth, a little village of Judæa, and being the son of a priest was consecrated to the priesthood from birth.

[22]Lyman Abbott inHebrew Prophets and American Problems.

He was still very young when it was borne in upon him that to be loyal to God he must stand forth and speak the truth more boldly than other priests were doing. Shrinking from such a task, he besought God to spare him. "Ah, Lord God! behold, I cannot speak: for I am a child."

And this, writes Jeremiah, is the answer he received:[23]"Say not, I am a child: for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak. Be not afraid of their faces: for I am with thee to deliver thee, saith the Lord. Then the Lord put forth his hand, and touched my mouth. And the Lord said unto me, Behold, I have put my words in thy mouth. See, I have this day set thee over the nations and over the kingdoms, to root out, and to pull down, and to destroy, and to throw down, to build, and to plant."

[23]Jeremiah, chapter i. verses 6-10.

Thus Jeremiah became a prophet, and from that time on his life was "one long, hopeless protest against folly and crime." Earnestly he besought his people to return to God before it was too late: "O Jerusalem, wash thine heart from wickedness, that thou mayest be saved;"[24]but prayers and threats were alike of no avail, and misfortunes began to afflict the land. Then Jeremiah shows himself a true patriot. Though his people refused to hear him, he still loves them and pleads their cause. In the horror of famine, he prays to God in their behalf.

[24]Ibid., ch. iv. v. 14.

JEREMIAH. Sistine Chapel, Rome.JEREMIAH.Sistine Chapel, Rome.

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There are times even in the midst of disappointment when Jeremiah has some gleam of hope for the future. He predicts the days when "a King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth."[25]Such times he himself was never to enjoy. He lived to see the Babylonian invasion, Jerusalem besieged and laid waste, and his people taken captive. The reward of his faithful warnings was to be cast into prison by the ungrateful King Zedekiah. Finally he was carried by the remnant of his people into Egypt, where he died in a sad and lonely old age.

[25]Jeremiah, chapter xxiii. verse 5.

Once in a moment of discouragement early in life, his grief had burst forth in words which might well express the feelings of his old age: "Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people!"[26]

[26]Jeremiah, chapter ix. verse 1.

All the pathos of these words is conveyed in Michelangelo's wonderful figure of Jeremiah. The story of his life is written in his face and attitude. He is an old man, with long gray beard, but he still has the splendid vigor which comes from plain and simple living. He sits with bowed head, lost in thought, his long life passing in review before hismind's eye. His message is spoken, his race is run; he is weary of life and longs to die. There is something inexpressibly moving in his profound melancholy.

The painter has placed just behind the prophet two little figures which are like attendant spirits. They seem to sympathize with Jeremiah's sorrows. The figures ornamenting the sculptured niche remind us of those in the background of the Holy Family and have a similar decorative purpose.

Those who have studied the history of the times in which Michelangelo lived may find in this figure of Jeremiah an expression of the artist's own character. Like the old Hebrew prophet, he lived in the midst of a corruption which he was helpless to remedy, and which saddened his inmost soul. His own life was full of disappointments. In his lonely old age he wrote a sonnet, which is not unlike some of Jeremiah's utterances, and which is a clue to the meaning of the picture:—

"Borne to the utmost brink of life's dark sea,Too late thy joys I understand, O earth!How thou dost promise peace which cannot be,And that repose which ever dies at birth.The retrospect of life through many a day,Now to its close attained by Heaven's decree,Brings forth from memory, in sad array,Only old errors, fain forgot by me,—Errors which e'en, if long life's erring day,To soul destruction would have led my way.For this I know—the greatest bliss on highBelongs to him called earliest to die."

In striking contrast to the bowed and sorrowful old prophet Jeremiah is the alert and eager youth Daniel. The two men were contemporaries, though there was a difference in their ages. When, in the reign of Jehoiakim, the Jews were taken into captivity to Babylon, the youth Daniel went with them, while the old prophet Jeremiah was left behind. Daniel was chosen, with three companions, to be educated at the court of the Babylonian king, Nebuchadnezzar. They were taught the Chaldean language and the sciences, and the king was delighted with their progress.

An opportunity soon came for Daniel to be of service to his royal patron. Nebuchadnezzar had a strange dream, which none of his magicians could interpret, because, unfortunately, he had forgotten it. In his anger that no one could supply the lost memory, he commanded to destroy all the wise men of Babylon. But Daniel prayed to God that the secret might be revealed to him.

His prayers were answered, and he related to the king not only just what the dream was, but the full meaning of it:[27]"Thou, O king, sawest, and beholda great image. This great image, whose brightness was excellent, stood before thee; and the form thereof was terrible. This image's head was of fine gold, his breast and his arms of silver, his belly and his thighs of brass, his legs of iron, his feet part of iron and part of clay. Thou sawest till that a stone was cut out without hands, which smote the image upon his feet that were of iron and clay, and brake them to pieces.... And the stone that smote the image became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth."

[27]Daniel, chapter ii. verses 31-35.

In Daniel's interpretation the different portions of the image represented the different kingdoms which should follow, one after another, in the future. The stone which brake the image in pieces referred to the final kingdom which the God of heaven shall set up, "which shall never be destroyed," but which shall stand forever.

From this time forth Daniel became a seer. He had many wonderful visions in the night, and interpreted them with reference to future historical events. He was also a statesman, the king having made him governor of the province as a reward for his services. In later years he acted as viceroy at a time when the king was insane.

In the reign of Nebuchadnezzar's successor, Belshazzar, Daniel was again called into service as a seer. One night, during a great feast, a mysterious hand appeared to write some inscription on the wall, and Daniel alone could interpret it. The message was ominous, but the prophet spoke out boldly."Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin," ran the words, "Thou art weighed in the balances and art found wanting." Daniel condemned the king for his iniquities, and declared that his kingdom should be divided by the Medes and Persians. That very night Belshazzar was slain, and Darius, the Median, took the kingdom.

DANIEL. Sistine Chapel, Rome.DANIEL.Sistine Chapel, Rome.

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Under the new dynasty Daniel was given so much power that some of the officials, jealous of his preferment, plotted against him. They contrived to persuade King Darius to sign a decree that "whosoever should ask a petition of any god or man for thirty days, save of the king himself, should be cast into the den of lions." The officials were right in supposing that this would entrap Daniel into law-breaking, for, faithful to his Hebrew training, he offered prayer to God three times a day. He was therefore cast into the lions' den, but no harm befell him, because, according to his own explanation, God sent his angel to shut the lions' mouths.

Daniel continued to hold office even in the reign of the next king, Cyrus the Persian. He lived to a great old age, but he was so young when he first showed his prophetic gifts that it is natural to think of him in his youth as Michelangelo has represented him. It would seem that the artist had in mind Daniel's early years of education at court. On his lap is a large open book supported on the back of a tiny figure standing between his knees. This may represent a volume of Chaldean learning. His posture shows that he has been consulting the volume,and now turns to his writing tablets to record his own thoughts.

His broad forehead shows him to be a student and a thinker. The waving hair is brushed back to form an aureole about his face. It is the face of a dreamer in a moment of inspiration. Eagerly he writes his words of mingled poetry and prophecy. He is full of youthful enthusiasm for his work, a nature fitted for action as well as for vision. He has also the spirited bearing of one who fears neither the rage of a lion nor the wrath of a king. There is a breezy energy in his motions, as if thoughts came more swiftly than he could transcribe them.

His expression of happy anticipation is in vivid contrast to Jeremiah's sorrowful attitude of retrospection. The picture brings out clearly the fact that the keynote of Daniel's prophecy is hope. Looking into his rapt face, we may imagine that this is the message he is writing: "They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever and ever."[28]

[28]Daniel, chapter xii. verse 3.

In the rows of figures which Michelangelo painted along the arched portion of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, the prophets are associated with sibyls. Hence, in the plan of decoration, there comes first the figure of a man, and then the figure of a woman.

Now, as the Bible contains no allusion to sibyls, it may seem strange that they should have a place in a series of Bible illustrations, and especially that they should appear side by side with the prophets. To explain this, we must learn something about the sibyls.

They were women of ancient times supposed to have supernatural gifts of foretelling the future. They devoted themselves to solitude and meditation, and sometimes lived apart in caves or grottoes. Sometimes they were connected with temples, and delivered what were supposed to be the messages of the gods to the worshippers. These messages were called oracles, and were greatly revered by the people who consulted the gods.

Some of the sibyls' words of wisdom were committed to writing and passed down to following generations. Though they lived in heathen countries, the tradition ran that they prophesied the advent of Christ. There is a passage in one of Virgil's eclogues (the fourth) upon which the supposition is based. Early in the Christian era, when men were spreading the new faith, they made much of these sibylline prophecies to add weight to their teachings.

In former times, fact and fable were very often confused, and people did not take pains to distinguish the legends of the sibyls from the history of the prophets. When the Latin hymn "Dies Irae" was written, the sibyl was mentioned, with the prophet, as predicting the final destruction of the world. Many painters and sculptors gave the two equal honor in the same way. In the prevailing opinion, the sibyls shared with the prophets an inspired foreknowledge of the Christian faith.

The nine main panels of Michelangelo's ceiling decoration show how man was created, and how he was tempted and fell into sin. To carry on still further the story of the human race, the painter shows the succession of men and women, prophets and sibyls, who, one after another, predicted the redemption of the world in Christ. On the side walls, below these figures, the story is carried to completion in a series of pictures illustrating the life of Christ. The last named frescoes were painted by various artists some years before Michelangelo's work on the ceiling.

The number of sibyls was given as ten or twelve, and of these Michelangelo selected five. His ideahere, as with the prophets, seemed to be to represent some in old age and some in youth.

THE DELPHIC SIBYL. Sistine Chapel, Rome.THE DELPHIC SIBYL.Sistine Chapel, Rome.

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The Delphic sibyl is the youngest and most beautiful of them all. She presided over the temple of Apollo in the Greek town of Delphi, where it was long customary for the priestess, orpythia, as she was called, to be a young woman selected from some family of poor country people.

The temple at Delphi was one of great celebrity. In the centre was a small opening in the ground, whence arose an intoxicating vapor, and over this sat the pythia, on a three-legged seat, or tripod, and delivered the oracle communicated to her by the god. These oracles were delivered in verse.

The Delphic sibyl, or pythia, of Michelangelo's picture, has the splendid stature of an Amazon. Her head is draped with a sort of Greek turban, beneath which her hair escapes in flying curls. Her face and expression show her at once to be unlike an ordinary woman. She has the look of a startled fawn, which has suddenly heard the call of a distant voice. She turns her head in the attitude of one listening. She looks far away with eyes that see visions, but what those visions are none can guess. There are other pictures of the same sibyl carrying a crown of thorns, showing that she predicted the sufferings of Christ. Perhaps this is the meaning of the sorrowful expression in these wide eyes.

The scroll which she unrolls in her left hand is the scroll of her prophecy. The two little figures holding a book, just behind her right shoulder, aregenii, or spirits, symbolic of her inspiration. One reads eagerly from the volume while the other listens with rapt attention.

The picture makes a very interesting study in the composition of lines. Starting from the topmost point of the turban, draw a line on the right, coming across the shoulder along the outer edge of the drapery to the toe. On the left, let the line connecting the same two points follow the outer curve of the scroll, along the slanting edge of the mantle, and we get a beautiful pointed oval as the basis of the composition.

The sibyl's left arm drops a curve across the upper part of the figure, and this curve is repeated a little lower down by the creases in the drapery across the lap. Such are the few strong, simple lines which compose the picture, producing an effect of grandeur which a confusion of many lines would entirely spoil.

Of all the sibyls, the one we hear most about is the Cumæan. The legend runs that, having asked a boon of Apollo, she gathered a handful of sand and said, "Grant me to see as many birthdays as there are sand grains in my hand." The wish was gratified, but unluckily she forgot to ask for enduring youth, so she was doomed to live a thousand years in a withered old age. Thus we always think of her as an old woman, as Michelangelo has represented her.

She is called the Cumæan sibyl because she is supposed to have lived in Cumæ, which was the oldest and one of the most important of the Greek colonies in Italy. Her real name, we are told, was Demos. She lived in a great cavern, where the people came to consult her, and her answers to their questions were regarded as oracles, or answers from the deities. She used to write on the leaves of trees the names and fates of different persons, arranging them in her cave to be read by her votaries. Sometimes the wind sweeping through the cavern scattered the leaves broadcast through the world.

The manner of consulting her is fully described by the Latin poet Virgil in the sixth book of theÆneid. He tells how Æneas, arriving with his fellow voyagers at the town of Cumæ, immediately goes to the temple of Apollo,

"And seeks the cave of wondrous size,The sibyl's dread retreat,The sibyl, whom the Delian seerInspires to see the future clear,And fills with frenzy's heat;The grove they enter, and beholdAbove their heads the roof of gold."Within the mountain's hollow side,A cavern stretches high and wide;A hundred entries thither lead;A hundred voices thence proceed,Each uttering forth the sibyl's rede.The sacred threshold now they trod:'Pray for an answer! pray! the god,'She cries, 'the god is nigh!'"And as before the door in viewShe stands, her visage pales its hue,Her locks dishevelled fly,Her breath comes thick, her wild heart glows.Dilating as the madness grows,Her form looks larger to the eye;Unearthly peals her deep-toned cry,As, breathing nearer and more near,The god comes rushing on his seer."

"Within the mountain's hollow side,A cavern stretches high and wide;A hundred entries thither lead;A hundred voices thence proceed,Each uttering forth the sibyl's rede.The sacred threshold now they trod:'Pray for an answer! pray! the god,'She cries, 'the god is nigh!'

"And as before the door in viewShe stands, her visage pales its hue,Her locks dishevelled fly,Her breath comes thick, her wild heart glows.Dilating as the madness grows,Her form looks larger to the eye;Unearthly peals her deep-toned cry,As, breathing nearer and more near,The god comes rushing on his seer."

Æneas now begs a favor of the sibyl. He has heard that here the path leads downward to the dead, and he desires to go thither to visit his father, Anchises. There are certain conditions to fulfil before setting forth, but when these are done the sibyl guides him on his way, and the journey is safely made.

THE CUMAEAN SIBYL. Sistine Chapel, Rome.THE CUMÆAN SIBYL.Sistine Chapel, Rome.

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Another legend of the Cumæan sibyl has to do with the Roman emperor Tarquin. The sibyl came to him one day with nine books of oracles, which she wished him to buy. The price was exorbitant, and the emperor refused her demand. She then went away, burned three of the books, and, returning with the remaining six, made the same demand. Again her offer was refused, and again she burned three books and returned, still requiring the original price for the three that were left. Tarquin now consulted the soothsayers, and, acting upon their advice, bought the books, which were found to contain directions concerning the religion and policy of Rome.

For many years they were held sacred, and were carefully preserved in the temple of Jupiter in the Capitol, under the care of official guardians. At length the temple was destroyed by fire, and the original sibylline books perished. In the following centuries they were replaced by scattered papers, collected from time to time in various parts of the empire, purporting to be the writings of the sibyl. These sibylline leaves, as they were called, contained passages supposed to be prophetic of the coming of Christ, and this is why the Cumæan sibyl is placed by Michelangelo among the prophets.

The sibyl is reading aloud from one of her books of oracles. The two little genii standing behind her shoulder, and listening with absorbed attention, hold another book, not yet unclasped, ready for her. She reads her prophecy with keen, searching eyes,and a manner that is almost stern. We can see in the large, strong features the determination of her character.

It is not a gentle face, and not pleasing, but it is full of meaning. We read there the record of the centuries which have passed over her head, bringing her the deep secrets of life. Yet the prophecies are still unfulfilled, and there is a look of unsatisfied longing in her wrinkled old face.

You will notice that the outlines of the Cumæan sibyl are drawn in an oval figure similar to that inclosing the Delphic sibyl. Here, however, the oval is of a more elongated form, and the left side is broken midway by the introduction of the book.

The old writer Pausanias, writing his "Description of Greece," in the second century, says that the people of Cumæ showed a small stone urn in the temple of Apollo containing the ashes of the sibyl. For many centuries her cavern was pointed out to travellers in a rock under the citadel of Cumæ. Finally the fortifications of the city were undermined, but to this day a subterranean passage in the rock on which they were built is still shown as the entrance to the sibyl's cave.

The statue of Lorenzo de' Medici is the central figure on the tomb erected to the memory of this prince. He was the rather unworthy namesake of his illustrious grandfather, who was known as Lorenzo the Magnificent. The Medici family was for many generations the richest and most powerful in Florence. They were originally merchants, and, as the name signifies, physicians, and, accumulating great wealth, they became powerful leaders, and really the rulers of the republic.

Some of them were munificent patrons of art and literature. There was one named Cosimo, who did so much to make his city famous that he was calledPater Patriae, the father of the country, as was, centuries afterwards, our own Washington. His grandson Lorenzo won the title of the Magnificent for his lavish generosity and superb plans for the advancement of art and learning. So much power could not safely be in the hands of a single family. The Medici, from being benefactors, finally became tyrants.

The Lorenzo of this statue was one of the more insignificant members of the family. It is said that "he inherited the vices without the genius of thefamily, and was ambitious, unscrupulous, and dissipated. His uncle, Pope Leo X., after depriving the Duke of Urbino of his hereditary domains, bestowed them, with the title of duke, on Lorenzo, whom he also made general of the pontifical forces."[29]In 1518 Leo united him in marriage to a French princess, and their daughter was the afterwards celebrated Catharine de' Medici, queen of the French king, Henry II. These are the main facts in the life of a man who is remembered only because he had illustrious ancestors, a famous daughter, and a superb tomb.

[29]Susan and Joanna Horner'sWalks in Florence, vol. i. p. 125.

It mattered nothing to Michelangelo that he had so poor a subject for a statue. It is supposed that he made no attempt at correct portraiture in the figure. The insignificant Lorenzo was transformed by the magic of his genius into a hero.

He wears a suit of Roman armor, in accordance with his career as a general in the wars with the Duke of Urbino, whose title he took. His helmet is pulled well forward over the brow, the head is bent, the cheek rests upon the left hand, the elbow supported on a casket placed on the knee. With finger laid thoughtfully upon the lips, he is thinking intently. The right hand rests, palm out, against the knee in a characteristic position of inaction.

LORENZO DE' MEDICI. Church of S. Lorenzo, Florence.LORENZO DE' MEDICIChurch of S. Lorenzo, Florence

His mood is not that of a dreamer lost to his present surroundings. Rather he seems to be keenly aware of what is going on; his meditations have to do with the present. It is as if, having given an order, he awaits its execution, his mind still intentupon his purposes, satisfied with his decision, and calmly expectant of its success. His affair is one of serious importance; no trifling matter absorbs the thought of this grave man. "A king sits in this attitude when, in the midst of his army, he orders the execution of some judicial act, like the destruction of a city. Frederic Barbarossa must have appeared thus when he caused Milan to be ploughed up."[30]

[30]Taine,Travels in Italy.

The lack of resemblance in the statue to the original duke Lorenzo made it for a long time doubtful whether it was intended to be his tomb. The Florentines, in their poetic way, fell into the habit of calling itIl Pensiero, that is, Thought, or Meditation, sometimesIl Pensieroso, The Thinker. These are, after all, the best names for the statue, which is allegorical rather than historical in its intention. The great English poet Milton has written a poem, which is like a companion piece to the statue, fitting it as words sometimes fit music. It begins in this way, in words whichIl Pensierosohimself might speak:—

"Hence, vain deluding Joys,The brood of Folly, without father bred!How little you bested,Or fill the fixèd mind with all your toys!Dwell in some idle brain,And fancies fond with gaudy shape possess,As thick and numberlessAs the gay motes that people the sunbeams,Or likest hovering dreams,The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train.But hail! thou Goddess sage and holy,Hail, divinest Melancholy!"

Lorenzo's statue stands in a niche above the sarcophagus, or stone coffin, in which his body was laid. On the top of the sarcophagus are two reclining figures called Dawn and Twilight. The tomb itself is in a chapel, or sacristy, called the New Sacristy (to distinguish it from one still older), in the Church of S. Lorenzo, Florence. The entire sacristy is devoted to the memory of the Medici family, who had for several generations been benefactors of this church.

Now Michelangelo had a great deal to do with this family first and last, and his work on the tomb has an additional interest on this account. It was to Lorenzo the Magnificent that he owed his first start as a sculptor in an academy founded by this prince. He so pleased his patron that he was received into the duke's own household, and treated almost like a son. Years passed; Lorenzo had long been dead, when, one after another, two members of the same family came to the papal throne, and they desired to honor their name by employing the greatest sculptor of Italy in this monumental work.

So Michelangelo began designs for the sacristy, the entire decoration of which was intrusted to him. The walls of the rooms were panelled with marble, set with niches, in the form of windows, in which the statues were to be placed.

As the work proceeded, it was interrupted by some strange incidents, of which we shall hear later. The whole plan was never fully carried out, but in spite of incompleteness the chapel is a grand and impressive place.

The tomb of Giuliano de' Medici is the companion to the tomb of Lorenzo, and stands on the opposite side of the altar which separates them. Our illustration shows the entire work, the statue being in the niche above, and the sarcophagus standing below with two reclining figures on it.

Giuliano de' Medici, duke of Nemours, was the youngest son of Lorenzo the Magnificent, and consequently the uncle of the younger Lorenzo. In reality he was greatly superior to his nephew, but curiously enough his appearance in Michelangelo's statue is more commonplace, though his attitude is graceful. He was a thoughtful man, somewhat melancholy in disposition, and the author of a poem on suicide. He wears the costume of a Roman general, but his small head and slender throat are not those of a warrior.

You will notice that the attitude of the duke Giuliano is somewhat similar to that of Moses. Both sit with left foot drawn back and right knee extended. Both turn the head in profile, looking intently toward the left. In either case it is easy to imagine the figure suddenly springing up.

Now this fact emphasizes the difference we havealready noted between the sculpture of Michelangelo and that of the Greeks. The leading idea in Greek sculpture was that of repose, while, as we have seen in the David and the Cupid, Michelangelo chose for his figures a moment of action. To give this suggestion of motion to a seated figure is even more remarkable than in the case of one standing, for the sitting posture naturally has an effect of stability.

The reclining figures on the sarcophagus of the Duke Giuliano represent Night and Day, and are supposed to be symbolic of death and resurrection. Night is a woman lying with head sunk upon the breast in a deep sleep. She is crowned with a crescent moon and star, and an owl is placed at her feet. The mask beneath her pillow symbolizes the body from which the spirit has departed. Though the figure is not beautiful in the Greek sense, it is grand and queenly. Opposite is Day, an unfinished captive, his head half freed from the stone, the arms rigid, the body contorted.

These two figures, together with Dawn and Twilight on Lorenzo's tomb, have an allegorical meaning which must be read in the light of Michelangelo's own life history. "Life is a dream between two slumbers; sleep is death's twin-brother; night is the shadow of death; death is the gate of life—such is the mysterious mythology wrought by the sculptor."[31]

[31]Symonds, inRenaissance in Italy: the Fine Arts.

The work on the Medicean tombs covered a period of about twelve years. During this time the Medicifamily passed through varying fortunes, and in consequence the fate of the tombs, and indeed that of the sculptor himself, hung in the balance. Florence became weary of tyranny and rose in a revolution which drove the Medici from the city in 1527.

TOMB OF GIULIANO DE' MEDICI. Church of S. Lorenzo, Florence.TOMB OF GIULIANO DE' MEDICI.Church of S. Lorenzo, Florence.

Success was of short duration: the republic soon "found herself standing out against a world of foes," the Pope, Clement VII. (himself a Medici), "threatening fire and flame," and all the Medici family "getting ready to return in double force." The Florentines prepared to fight for their liberty, and Michelangelo was found among the patriots. No sense of personal gratitude to the Medici could shake his love of liberty. He forsook the monuments and turned his skill to the fortification of the city.

For eleven months Florence was besieged, and in the end the city was captured. The Medici returned conquerors. Mercenaries now broke into the houses, killing the best citizens. Had not Michelangelo been in hiding, he too would have perished. But the Pope could not afford to lose his best sculptor, and, calling him forth from his hiding-place, again set him to work in the Medici chapel. It is not strange that the sculptor's proud spirit rebelled at having to work on that which was to honor the enemies of his beloved Florence.

Thus it was that his sculpture told the story of "the tragedy of Florence: how hope had departed, how life had become a desert, and how it was hard to struggle with waking consciousness, but good tosleep and forget—nay, best of all, to be stone and feel no more."

The old writer Vasari, who was once a pupil of Michelangelo, and tells us many anecdotes of the sculptor, relates that when the statue of Night was first shown to the public, it called forth a verse from a contemporary poet (Giovan Battista Strozzi). This is the verse:—

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