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 of the 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.
[Footnote 22: Lyman Abbott in _Hebrew 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."
[Footnote 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.
[Footnote 24: Ibid., ch. iv. v. 14.]
[Illustration: JEREMIAH. _Sistine Chapel, Rome._]
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.
[Footnote 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]
[Footnote 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
his mind'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 high
Belongs to him called earliest to die."
X
DANIEL
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 behold a 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."
[Footnote 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.
[Illustration: DANIEL. _Sistine Chapel, Rome._]
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]
[Footnote 28: Daniel, chapter xii. verse 3.]
XI
THE DELPHIC SIBYL
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 idea here, as with the prophets,
seemed to be to represent some in old age and some in youth.
[Illustration: THE DELPHIC SIBYL. _Sistine Chapel, Rome._]
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, or _pythia_, 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, are genii, 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.
XII
THE CUMÆAN SIBYL
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 the Æneid. 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 seer
Inspires to see the future clear,
And fills with frenzy's heat;
The grove they enter, and behold
Above 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 view
She 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.
[Illustration: THE CUMÆAN SIBYL. _Sistine Chapel, Rome._]
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.
XIII
LORENZO DE' MEDICI
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
called _Pater 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 the family, 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.
[Footnote 29: Susan and Joanna Horner's _Walks 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.
[Illustration: LORENZO DE' MEDICI. _Church 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 intent upon 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]
[Footnote 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 it _Il Pensiero_, that is, Thought, or Meditation, sometimes
_Il 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 which _Il Pensieroso_
himself might speak:--