A Visit to the Sistine Chapel.
_Deep love lieth under
These pictures of time;
They fade in the light of
Their meaning sublime._
--EMERSON.
[Illustration: ST. PETER'S AND CASTLE OF ST. ANGELO, ROME.]
They first passed into the great Cathedral in order to give a look at
that most beautiful of all Michael Angelo's sculptures--_Mary holding on
her knees her dead Son_. Barbara and Bettina had studied it on a former
visit to St. Peter's when Mr. Sumner was not with them. Now he asked
them to note the evident weight of the dead Christ,--with every muscle
relaxed,--a triumph of the sculptor's art; and, especially, the
impersonal face of the mother; a face that is simply the embodiment of
her feeling, and wholly apart from the ordinary human!
"This is a special characteristic of Michael Angelo's faces," he said,
"and denotes the high order of his thought. In it, he approached more
closely the conceptions of the ancient Greek masters than has any other
modern artist--and now we will go to the Sistine Chapel," he added,
after a little time.
They went out to the Vatican entrance, passed the almost historic Swiss
Guards, and climbed the stairs with quite the emotion that they were
about to visit some sacred shrine, so much had they read and so deeply
had they thought about the frescoes they were about to see.
For some time after they entered the Chapel Mr. Sumner said nothing. The
custodian, according to custom, provided them with mirrors; and each one
passed slowly along beneath the world-famous ceiling paintings, catching
the reflection of fragment after fragment, figure after figure. Soon the
mirrors were cast aside, and the opera-glasses Mr. Sumner had advised
them to bring were brought into use,--they were no longer content to
study simply a reflected image.
At last necks and eyes grew tired, and when Mr. Sumner saw this, he
asked all to sit for a time on one of the benches, in a corner apart
from others who were there.
"I know just how you feel," he said. "You are disappointed. The frescoes
are so far above our heads; their colors are dull; they are disfigured
by seams; there are so many subjects that you are confused and weary.
You are already striving to retain their interest and importance by
connecting them with the personality of their creator, and are
imagining Michael Angelo swung up there underneath the vault, above his
scaffoldings, laboring by day and by night during four years. You are
beginning in the wrong place to rightly comprehend the work.
"It is the magnitude of Michael Angelo's _conceptions_ that puts him
among the very first of painters; and it is the conception of these
frescoes that makes them the most notable paintings in the world. We
must dwell on this for a moment. When the work was begun it was the
artist's intention to paint on the end wall, opposite the altar, the
Fall of Lucifer, the enemy of man, who caused sin to befall him. This
was never accomplished. Then he designed to cover the ceiling (as he
did) with the chief Biblical scenes of the world's history that are
connected with man's creation and fall--to picture all these as looking
directly forward to Christ's coming and man's redemption; and then to
complete the series, as he afterward did, by painting this great _Last
Judgment_ over the altar. Is it not a stupendous conception?
"Let your eyes run along the ceiling as I talk. God is represented as a
most superbly majestic Being in the form of man. He separates light from
darkness. He creates the sun and moon. He commands the waters to bring
forth all kinds of fish; the earth and air to bring forth animal life.
He creates Adam: nothing more grand is there in the whole realm of art
than this magnificent figure, perfect in everything save the reception
of the breath of eternal life; his eyes are waiting for the Divine spark
that will leap into them when God's finger shall touch his own. He
creates Eve. In Paradise they sin, and are driven out by angels with
flaming swords. Then, a sad sequence to the parents' weakness, Cain
murders his brother Abel. The flood comes and destroys all their
descendants save Noah. He who has withstood evil is saved with his
family in the ark, and becomes the father of a new race."
"And do the pictures at the corners, and the single figures, have
anything to do with this subject?" asked Malcom, after a pause, during
which all were busy following the thoughts awakened by Mr. Sumner's
words.
[Illustration: MICHAEL ANGELO. SISTINE CHAPEL, ROME.
THE DELPHIAN SIBYL.]
"Yes, indeed; nothing here is foreign to the one great thought of the
painter. The four irregular spaces at the corners are filled with
representations of important deliverances of the Jewish people from
evil,--David slaying Goliath, the hanging of Haman, the serpent raised
in the wilderness, and Judith with the head of Holofernes. The
connection in Michael Angelo's mind evidently was that God, who had
always provided a help for His people, would also in His own time give
a Saviour from their sins.
"Ranged along the sides you see seven prophets and five sibyls: the
prophets foretold Christ's coming to the Jewish world, and the sibyls
sang of it to the Gentile world.
"Nowhere, however, do we see the waiting and the longing for the
coming of the Redeemer more strikingly shown than in these
families,--'Genealogy of the Virgin' they are commonly called,--that are
painted in the triangular spaces above the windows. Each represents a
father, mother, and little child, every bit of whose life seems utterly
absorbed with just the idea of patient, expectant waiting. When troubled
and weary, as we all are sometimes, you know, I have often come here to
gain calmness and strength by looking at one or two of these groups;"
and Mr. Sumner paused, with his eyes fixed on one of the loveliest of
the Holy Families, as they are sometimes called, as if he would now
drink in its spirit of hopeful peace.
"They are waiting," he resumed after a few minutes, "as only those can
wait who confidently hope; and, therefore, there is really nothing in
the rendering of all this grand conception that more clearly points to
the Saviour's coming than do these.
"I think this part of the frescoes has not generally received the
attention it merits.
"The decorative figures, called Athletes, that you see seated on the
apparently projecting cornice, at each of the four corners of the
smaller great divisions of the ceiling, are a wholly unique creation of
the artist, and serve as a necessary separation of picture from picture.
They are with reason greatly admired in the world of art.
"These many figures, each possessing distinct personality, were evolved
from the mind of the artist. We can never think of him as going about
through the city streets seeking models for his work as did Leonardo da
Vinci. His figures are as purely ideal as the creations of the old
Greeks. Now think of all this. Think of the sphere of the old master's
thought during these four years, and you will not wonder that he could
not sleep, but, restless, came again and again at night with a candle
fixed in his paper helmet to light the work of his hands."
All were silent. Never before had they seen Mr. Sumner so evidently
moved by his subject; and this made it all the more impressive. They
became impatient as they heard a little group of tourists chatting and
laughing in front of the _Last Judgment_; and when, finally, a crowd of
travellers with a noisy guide entered the Chapel, they quickly decided
to go away and to come again the next day.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Sumner," said Barbara, in a low, sympathetic
voice, as she found herself beside him as they came out through the long
corridor; "you have made it all very plain to us,--the greatness, the
skill, the patience of Michael Angelo. It is as if he had been inspired
by God."
"And why not?" was the gentle reply, as he looked down into the upturned
face so full of sweet seriousness. "Do you believe that the days of
inspiration were confined to past ages? God is the same as then, and
close at hand as then; man is the same and with the same needs.
"The passive master lent his hand
To the vast soul that o'er him planned,
wrote our Emerson, showing he believed, as I firmly do, that we
ourselves now work God's will, as men did ages ago; that God inspires us
even as he did the old Prophets."
"I love to believe so," said Barbara, simply.
"And," continued Mr. Sumner, "this does not lessen any man, but rather
makes him greater. Surely God's working through him makes him truly
grander than the mere work itself ever could."
As Malcom, Barbara, and Bettina drove homeward, their talk took a
serious turn. Malcom was deeply impressed by his uncle's last words,
which he had overheard, when taken into connection with all the
preceding thoughts about Michael Angelo. Finally he asked:--
"And then what can a man do? What did Michael Angelo, himself, do if, as
uncle suggested, God wrought through him?"
"Oh, I know!" exclaimed Bettina, eagerly. "I have heard papa and mamma
talk about the same thing more than once, only of course Michael Angelo
was not their subject. In the first place, he must have realized that
God sent him into the world to do something, and also that He had not
left him alone, but was with him. Papa always says that to realize this
begins everything that is good."
"Yes," interrupted Barbara. "He did feel this. Don't you remember that
he wrote in one of his letters that we were reading in that library book
the other day, 'Make no intimacies with any one but the Almighty alone'?
I was particularly struck by it, because just before I read it, I was
thinking what a lonely man he was."
"Yes, dear, I remember. And in the next place," continued Bettina, "papa
says we must get ourselves ready to do as _great_ work as is possible,
so that may be given us. If we do not prepare ourselves, this cannot
be. You know how Michael Angelo studied and studied there in Florence
when he was a young man; how he never spared himself, but 'toiled
tremendously,' as some one has said. And, next, we must do in the very
best way possible even the smallest thing God sees fit to give us to do,
so that we may be found worthy to do greater ones. But, Malcom, you know
all this as well or better than I do, and I know you are trying to do
these things too!" and Bettina blushed at the thought that she had been
preaching.
But Malcom laughed, and looked as if he could listen to so sweet a
preacher forever. Never were there two better comrades than he and
Bettina had been all their lives.
Barbara said little. There was a far-away look in her eyes that told of
unexpressed thought. She was pondering that which the morning had
brought; and underneath and through all was the happy knowledge that her
hero had not failed her. As usual he had committed new gifts into her
keeping. And the gentle, almost intimate, tones of his voice when he was
talking to her,--she felt it was to herself alone, though others
heard--dwelt like music in her ears.
Mr. Sumner had been calmed by the lesson of Michael Angelo's frescoes,
as he had often been before. In the presence of eternal
verities,--however they may be embodied to us,--our own private
concerns must ever grow trivial. What matters a little unrest or
disappointment, or even unhappiness, when our thought is engaged with
untold ages of God's dealing with mankind? With the wondrous fact that
God is with man,--Immanuel,--forever and forevermore?
That evening he spent with the family in their pretty sitting room, and
in answer to some questions about the _Last Judgment_, talked for a few
minutes about this large fresco, which occupied seven years of Michael
Angelo's life. He told them that although it is not perhaps so great as
a work of art as the ceiling frescoes, yet because of its conception, of
the number of figures introduced, the boldness of their treatment, and
the magnificence of their drawing, it stands unrivalled. He said they
ought to study it, bit by bit, group by group, after having once learned
to understand its design.
They talked of the grim humor of the artist in giving his Belial--the
master of Hades--the face of the master of ceremonies of the chapel, who
found so much fault with his painting of nude figures.
"That was the chief feature of interest in the picture to that group of
young people who stood so long before it this morning," said Mr. Sumner.
"I often notice that the portrait of grouty old Biagio attracts more
attention than any other of the nearly three hundred figures in the
picture."
"I don't wonder, for I want to see it too," said Malcom, laughing.
They talked also of Vittoria Colonna, at whose home and in whose
companionship the lonely master found all his happiness, especially
during these years of toil. The girls were much interested in her, and
Mr. Sumner said he would take them to visit the Colonna Palace, where,
among other pictures, they would find a portrait of this noble woman,
who was so famous in the literary life of her time.
* * * * *
One morning, not long after, Malcom brought a handful of letters from
the banker's, among which several fell to Barbara and Bettina.
After opening two or three of his own, Mr. Sumner looked up and said:--
"I have here a letter dictated by Howard's grandmother. It contains only
a few words, which were written evidently by some friend, who adds that
the poor old lady is greatly prostrated, and it is feared will never
recover from the shock of his death."
"Poor woman! I wish it might have come less suddenly to her," replied
Mrs. Douglas, in a sympathetic voice.
After a little silence, during which all were busy with their letters,
a low cry burst from Barbara's lips.
Startled, all looked up to find her, pale as death, staring at a sheet
clutched in her hand, while Bettina had sunk on her knees with her arms
about her sister's waist.
"What is it? oh! what is it?" cried they.
Barbara found just voice enough to say: "No bad news from home," and
then appealingly held her letter toward Mr. Sumner.
"Shall I read it?" and as she bowed assent, he hastily scanned the
contents.
"Howard left a large portion of his money to Barbara," he said briefly,
in response to the inquiring eyes, and handed the letter back to the
agitated girl, who, with Bettina, sought their own room.
Then he added, striving to keep his voice calm and natural: "It seems
that the very day before he was taken ill, Howard went to a lawyer in
Florence and made a codicil to his will, in which he grouped several
bequests heretofore given, into one large one, which he gave to Barbara.
This he at once sent to his lawyer in Boston, who has now written to
Barbara."
"This is what poor Howard tried so hard to tell me at the last," said
Mrs. Douglas. "He began two or three times, but did not have the
strength to continue. I suspected it was something like this, but
thought it best not to mention it. How much is it?" she asked after a
pause, during which Malcom and Margery had talked in earnest tones.
"Nearly half a million," answered Mr. Sumner.
Barbara the owner of nearly half a million dollars! No wonder she was
overcome! It seemed like an Arabian Nights' tale.
"How perfectly lovely!" cried Margery; and her mother echoed her words.
Mr. Sumner looked rather grave. It was not that Barbara should have the
money, but that another should have the right to give it her. Some one
else to bless the life of the girl who was becoming so dear to him! To
whom he was beginning to long to bring all good things! It was as if the
dead Howard came in some way between himself and her; and he went out
alone beneath the trees of the Pincian Gardens to think it all over.
Meanwhile, the two girls were in their chamber. Barbara threw herself on
a couch beneath the window, and gazed with unseeing eyes up into the
depths of the Italian sky. She was stunned by the news the letter had
brought, and, as yet, thought was completely passive.
Bettina read several times the lawyer's letter, trying to understand
its contents. At last she said gently:--
"Can it be possible, Bab? I can hardly comprehend how much it is. We
have never thought of so much money in all our lives. Why! you are rich,
dear. You have more money than you ever can spend!"
Barbara sprang from the couch, and threw out her arms with an exultant
gesture.
"Spend! I hadn't once thought of that! Betty! Betty! Papa and mamma
shall have everything they wish! They shall never work so hard any more!
Mamma shall have a seamstress every day, and her poor pricked fingers
shall grow smooth! She shall have the loveliest clothes, and never again
give the prettiest of everything to you and me! Papa shall have
vacations, and books, and the study in hospitals he has so longed for!
Richard shall have college _certain_ to look forward to; Lois shall have
the best teachers in the world for her music; Margaret shall be an
artist; and dear little Bertie!--oh! he shall have what he needs for
everything he wishes to do and be! And they shall all come abroad to
this dear lovely Italy, and enjoy all that we are enjoying! And you and
I, Betty!--why!--you and I can have some new spring dresses!" And the
excited girl burst into a flood of tears, mingled with laughter at the
absurdity of her anti-climax.
Bettina did not know what to do. She had never seen Barbara so
overwrought with excitement. Presently, however, she began to speak of
Howard, and before long they were talking tenderly of the young man who
so short a time ago was a stranger to them, but whose life had been
destined to touch so closely their own.
Barbara was profoundly moved as she realized this proof of his affection
for her, and a depression was fast following her moment of exultation,
when a tap at the door ushered in Mrs. Douglas, who took her into her
arms as her mother would have done. Her sweet sympathy and bright
practical talk did a world of good in restoring to both the girls their
natural calmness.
Barbara, however, was in a feverish haste to do something that would
repay her parents for the money she and Betty were using, and, to soothe
her, Mrs. Douglas told her what to write to the lawyer, so that he would
at once transfer a few thousands of dollars to Dr. Burnett. Then she
said:--
"I would not write your father and mother about it until to-morrow. You
can do it more easily then; and I will write, too, if you would like.
Margery and Malcom are longing to see you. So is Robert, I am sure. And
will it not be best for you to go right out somewhere with us?"