Cellini writes of himself as being very active in the siege of Rome, May 5th, 1527. He says that he killed the Constable de Bourbon, who led the siege, and that he wounded the Prince of Orange, who was chosen in Bourbon's place. No one else saw him perform these feats. Cellini went to the Pope, who was in the Castle of St. Angelo, and he there rendered such services to the cause of the Church that the Holy Father pardoned him for all the sins into which his temper had led him—"for all the homicides he had committed or might commit in the service of the Apostolic Church." A few years later, when Cellini was called upon to take part in the defence of his own city, he put all his property into the care of a friend, and stole away to Rome.

In 1534 Cellini killed a fellow-goldsmith, called Pompeo; Paul III. was now Pope; and as he needed the services of Benvenuto very much he pardoned him. But the sculptor felt that he was in ill favor with all about him, and went to France. In about a year he returned to find that he had been accused of stealing some jewels which the pope had commanded him to take out of their settings. Cellini was held a prisoner nearly two years, but his guilt was never proved.

At the end of this time the Cardinal Ippolito d'Este obtained his release in order that he might go to France to execute some work for Francis I. Cellini remained in France five years, and received many honors and gifts; but as Madame d'Etampes and other persons to whose advice the king listened were enemies of Cellini, he never was treated as his artistic qualities merited. Francis I. really admired Cellini, and presented him with the Hotel de Petit Nesle, which was on the site of the present Hotel de la Monnaie; he also made him a lord, and on one occasion expressed his fear of losing him, when Madame d'Etampes replied, "The surest way of keeping him would be to hang him on a gibbet."

Of all the objects which Cellini made during his five years in France but two remain. One is a splendid salt-cellar, and the other is a nymph in bronze, which was made for the Palace of Fontainebleau, and is now in the Renaissance Museum of the Louvre. This salt-cellar is now in the Ambraser Gallery at Vienna. The frieze around the base has figures in relief which represent the hours of the day and the winds. The upper part is made like the surface of the sea, and from it rise figures of Neptune and Cybele. The first is a symbol of the salt of the sea, and the second of the spices which the earth gives. The god is placing his arm on a small ship intended for the salt, and a vessel for pepper, in the form of a triumphal arch, is near the goddess. All this is made of fine embossed gold, and has some touches of enamel-work. It is one of the finest pieces of the goldsmith's art which remains from the sixteenth century.

In 1545 Cellini returned to Florence, and remained there, with short absences, until his death. Duke Cosmo de' Medici became his patron, and commissioned him to make a statue of Perseus for the Loggia de' Lanzi. The ambition of the artist was much excited by the thought of having his work placed by those of Donatello and Michael Angelo, and all care was taken from his mind, as the Duke provided him with a comfortable house and gave him a salary sufficient for his support.

It was nine years before the statue was completed and in its place, and in this time Cellini had suffered much. Baccio Bandinelli and others were his enemies, and at times the Duke had been under their influence, and would not furnish the money necessary to the work. But at last all was ready for the casting; and just at this unfortunate moment for Cellini to leave it he was seized with a severe illness; he was suffering much, and believed himself about to die, when some one ran in shouting, "Oh, Benvenuto, your work is ruined past earthly remedy!"

Ill as he was he rushed out to the furnace, to find that the fire was too low, and the metal, being cool, had ceased flowing into the mould. By almost superhuman efforts he remedied the evil, and again the bronze flowed; he prayed earnestly, and when the mould was filled he writes: "I fell on my knees and thanked God with all my heart, after which I ate a hearty meal with my assistants, and it being then two hours before dawn, went to bed with a light heart, and slept as sweetly as if I had never been ill in all my life."

When the statue was unveiled Cellini's prediction that it would please all the world except Bandinelli and his friends was fulfilled. Perseus is represented just at the moment when he has cut off the head of Medusa, who was one of the Gorgons, and had turned to stone every one who looked at her. (Fig. 103.)



After the completion of the Perseus, Cellini went to Rome for a short time. While there he made a bust of Bindo Altoviti; when Michael Angelo saw this he wrote: "My Benvenuto, I have long known you as the best goldsmith in the world, and I now know you as an equally good sculptor, through the bust of Messer Bindo Altoviti." Cellini did no more important works, though he was always industrious. He made a crucifix which he intended for his own grave, but he gave it to the Duchess Eleanora; this was afterward sent to Philip II. of Spain, and is now in the Escurial.

Cellini's life was by no means a model one, but he had his good qualities. He took a widowed sister with six children to his home, and made them welcome and happy. At his death he was buried in the Church of the Annunziata, beneath the chapel of the Company of St. Luke, and many honors were paid to his memory.

His autobiography was so rich in its use of the Florentine manner of speech and so fine in its diction that it was honored as an authority by the Accademia della Crusca. He also wrote valuable works on the goldsmith's art and on bronze-casting and sculpture. He wrote poems and various kinds of verses, but his large acquaintance with popes, cardinals, kings, artists, and men of letters makes his story of his life far more interesting than his other writings.

The artists of Upper Italy were much influenced by Florentine art, as they had formerly been, and we can speak of no very great sculptor of this century who belonged to this part of the country. ALFONSO LOMBARDO (1488-1537) was a native of Lucca; his principal works are seen in Ferrara, Bologna, and Cesena.

PROPERZIA DE' ROSSI (1490-1530) was born at Bologna, and is interesting as the one Italian sculptress of that time. She was born about a year after her father had returned from the galleys, where he had worked out a sentence of eighteen years for the crime of manslaughter. Properzia seems to have inherited her father's violent temper, and was twice arraigned in court. She was very beautiful in person, and had a devoted lover in Antonio Galeazzo Malvasia de' Bottigari, who did not marry until many years after the death of Properzia.

Properzia studied drawing under Marc Antonio Raimondi, the famous engraver. She first devoted herself to the cutting of intaglios, which demanded an immense amount of patient labor. There is in the cabinet of gems in the Uffizi Gallery, at Florence, a cherry-stone carved by Properzia, on which sixty heads may be counted; the subject is a Glory of Saints. Other like works of hers exist in the Palazzo Grassi, in Bologna. Her next work was in arabesques, marble ornaments, lions, griffins, vases, eagles, and similar objects.

Finally she essayed a bust of Count Guido Pepoli; it is now in the Sacristy of San Petronio, in Bologna. In the same place are two bas-reliefs by her hand, Solomon receiving the Queen of Sheba, and Joseph and Potiphar's Wife. In the chapel Zambeccari in San Petronio there are two large figures of angels by Properzia, which are near the Ascension of the Virgin by Il Tribolo. Her manner was much influenced by her contact with this sculptor. Properzia was employed, with other artists, to finish the sculpture of the portal of San Petronio, left unfinished by Jacopo della Quercia.

ANTONIO BEGARELLI (1499-1565), called also ANTONIO DA MODENA, from the place of his birth, was a celebrated modeller in clay. It is said that when Michael Angelo visited Modena in 1529 he saw Begarelli and his works, and exclaimed, "Alas for the statues of the ancients, if this clay were changed to marble!" Begarelli had a school for teaching design and modelling, and he greatly influenced the manner of the Lombard school of painting. Its foreshortening, its relief and grace are largely due to him and his teaching.

Begarelli and Correggio were fast friends, and resembled each other in their conception of the grand and beautiful. When Correggio was decorating the cupola of the Cathedral of Parma, Begarelli was at work in the same place, and made many models from which Correggio painted his floating figures. Some works by Begarelli may be seen in the Berlin Museum. His Descent from the Cross, in the Church of San Francesco, at Modena, is one of his best works. He was also employed in the Church of San Benedetto, in Mantua, and in San Giovanni, at Parma.

During the sixteenth century the works at the Certosa at Pavia and in various edifices in Milan were constantly carried on. Frequently the same sculptors worked in both cities, but there is no one artist of great excellence among them of whom we can give an account. The same is true of the works in Venice and in Southern Italy. The traveller sees many pieces of sculpture belonging to this period, but there are no great and interesting men whose story we can tell in connection with them, and I shall now pass to an account of the great Florentine.

MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI (1475-1564) was born in the Castle of Caprese, where his father, Ludovico Buonarroti, was stationed at that time, holding the office of Podesta, or Governor, of the towns of Caprese and Chiusi. The Buonarroti family held good rank in Florence, and the mother of the great artist was also a woman of good position. When his father returned to Florence the child Michael was left at Settignano upon an estate of the family, and was in the care of the wife of a stone-mason. As soon as the boy could use his hands he drew pictures everywhere that it was possible, and his nurse could show many of these childish drawings with which he adorned the walls of her house.

At a proper time Michael Angelo was removed to Florence and placed in a school, where he became intimate with Francesco Granacci, who was a pupil of the artist Ghirlandajo. Michael Angelo's father and his uncles were firmly opposed to his being an artist; they wished him to follow the traditions of his family, and carry on the silk and woollen trade. But the boy was firm in his determination, and after many trials was at length, in 1488, apprenticed to the Ghirlandaji for three years.

Domenico Ghirlandajo was at this time engaged in the restoration of the Church of Santa Maria Novella, and Michael Angelo came into the midst of great artistic works. One day at the dinner hour he drew a picture of the scaffolding and all its belongings, with the men at work on it; it was a remarkable drawing for a boy, and when the master saw it he exclaimed, "He understands more than I do myself!" The master really became jealous of his pupil, more especially when Michael Angelo corrected the drawings which Ghirlandajo gave his scholars for models.

About this time Michael Angelo was brought to the notice of Lorenzo de' Medici, who was at that time at the head of the government of Florence, and from him the boy-artist obtained admission for himself and Granacci to study in the gardens of San Marco. The art treasures of the Medici were placed in these gardens; works of sculpture were there, and cartoons and pictures were hung in buildings erected for the purpose, and art-students were admitted to study there and proper instructors provided for them.

The master in sculpture was old Bertoldo, and Michael Angelo, forsaking painting, obtained some instruments and a piece of marble, and copied a mask of a faun. He changed his own work somewhat from the model, and opened the mouth so that the teeth could be seen. When Lorenzo saw this he praised the work, but said, "You have made your faun old, and yet you have left all his teeth; you should have known that at such an age there are generally some teeth wanting." When he came again he saw that a gap had been made in the teeth, and so well done that he was delighted. This work is now in the Uffizi Gallery.

Very soon Lorenzo sent for Michael Angelo's father, who had been sad enough at the thought that his son might be a painter, and was now in despair when he found that he inclined also to be a stone-mason. At first he refused to see the duke, but Granacci persuaded him to go. He went with a firm determination to yield to nothing, but once in presence of Lorenzo he yielded everything, and returned home declaring that not only Michael, but he himself, and all that he had were at the nobleman's service.

Lorenzo at once took Michael Angelo into his palace; he clothed the boy properly, and gave him five ducats a month for spending money. Each day Lorenzo gave an entertainment, and it was the rule that the first person who came should sit next the duke at the head of the table. Michael Angelo often had this place, and he soon became a great favorite with Lorenzo, and obtained besides the greatest advantages from the life in the palace; for many eminent men from all parts of the world came to visit there, and all sorts of subjects were discussed in such a manner that a young man could learn much of the world and what was in it, and acquire a feeling of ease with strangers and in society such as few young persons possess.

Michael Angelo was but seventeen years old when Poliziano advised him to attempt an original work, and gave him the marble for a relief of the contest between Hercules and the Centaurs. This work surprised every one, and is still preserved in the collection of the Buonarroti family. In the year 1492 he also made a relief of the Madonna Suckling the Child Jesus, which is also in the same place. In the same year Lorenzo de' Medici died, and Michael Angelo, full of grief, went to his father's house and arranged a studio there. After a time Piero de Medici invited him to come back to the palace, and he went; but it was no more the same place as formerly, and he was unhappy there. Soon political troubles drove the Medici from power, and in 1494, in the midst of the confusion, Michael Angelo escaped to Venice. There he made friends with Gian Francesco Aldovrandi of Bologna, and was persuaded by that nobleman to accompany him to his own city.



While at Bologna he executed an angel holding a candelabra, which is one of the most lovely and pleasing things he ever made (Fig. 104). When he received the commission to ornament the sarcophagus which contained the remains of San Domenico in the Church of San Petronio, the Bolognese artists were so angry at being thus set aside for a stranger, and a youth of twenty, that they threatened vengeance on him, and he returned to Florence.

It was at this time that he executed a Cupid, which was the means of leading him to Rome. The story is that when he had the statue completed Lorenzo de' Medici, a relative of his first patron, advised him to give it the appearance of an antique marble, and added that he would then sell it in Rome and get a good price for it. Michael Angelo consented to this plan, and in the end he received thirty ducats for the work. The secret of its origin was not kept, and the cardinal who had bought it sent an agent to Florence to find out the truth about it. This agent pretended to be in search of a sculptor; and when he saw Michael Angelo he asked him what works he had done. When he mentioned a Sleeping Cupid, and the agent asked questions, the young sculptor found that the cardinal had paid two hundred ducats for it, and that he had been greatly deceived when attempting to deceive others.

Michael Angelo consented to go to Rome with this man, who promised to receive him into his own house, and assured him that he would be fully occupied in the Eternal City. The oldest writing by the hand of Michael Angelo is the letter which he wrote to Lorenzo telling him of his arrival in Rome; when this was written he was twenty-one years old. The first work which he did after he reached Rome was the "Drunken Bacchus," now in the Uffizi Gallery; it shows a great knowledge of anatomy in one so young, and the expression of drunkenness is given in the most natural manner.



But the work that established his fame as a great sculptor is the Pieta, now in St. Peter's at Rome (Fig. 105). He was twenty-five years old when he executed this work, and from that time was acknowledged to be the greatest sculptor of Italy—a decision which has never been reversed.

Soon after this Michael Angelo returned to Florence, and his first important work was a Madonna, now at Bruges; it is life-size, and one of his finest sculptures. There was at this time an immense block of marble which had lain many years in the yard to the workshops of the cathedral. Several sculptors had talked of making something from it, and now Michael Angelo was asked by the consuls to make something good of it. He had just taken an order for fifteen statues for the Piccolomini tomb at Siena; but when he saw the immense block he gave up the Siena work, and contracted to make a statue in two years. He was to be paid six gold florins a month, and as much more as could be agreed upon when the work was done. He first made a model in wax of his David; it was very small, and is now in the Uffizi. In the beginning of 1504, after about two years and a half had been spent upon it, the work was done, and a discussion then arose as to where it should be placed.

At length it was decided to put it where Michael Angelo himself wished it to be, next the gate of the palace where the Judith of Donatello then stood. The statue weighed eighteen thousand pounds, and its removal was a work of great importance. I shall not give all the details of it here, but shall quote what Grimm says: "The erection of this David was like an occurrence in nature from which people are accustomed to reckon. We find events dated so many years after the erection of the giant. It was mentioned in records in which there was not a line respecting art."



In 1527 the statue was injured by a stone thrown in a riot. At length it began to show the effect of time and weather, and the people of Florence talked of removing it for better preservation. There was much feeling against this; the Florentines feared that misfortunes would fall upon them if this great work were disturbed; but at last, in 1873, it was placed in the Academy of Fine Arts. It represents the youthful David at the moment when he declares to Goliath, "I come unto thee in the name of the Lord of Hosts." The beautiful figure is muscular and pliant, and the face is full of courage. (Fig. 106.)

About the beginning of the year 1505 Pope Julius II. summoned Michael Angelo to Rome, and after a time gave him a commission to build a colossal mausoleum to be erected for himself. The design was made and accepted, and then Michael Angelo went to Carrara to select marble; after much trouble he succeeded in getting it to Rome, where all who saw it were astonished at the size of the blocks. Pope Julius was delighted, and had a passage made from the palace to the workshop of the sculptor, so that he could visit the artist without being seen. Other sculptors now became jealous of Michael Angelo, and when he went a second time to Carrara, Bramante persuaded the pope that it was a bad sign to build his tomb while he was still living. When Michael Angelo returned and the workmen he had hired arrived from Florence, he found the pope much changed toward him. He no longer hastened the work, neither would he furnish money to carry it on.

Michael Angelo sought the pope for an explanation, and was refused an audience. He wrote a letter thus: "Most Holy Father, I was this morning driven from the palace by the order of your Holiness. If you require me in future you can seek me elsewhere than in Rome." He ordered a Jew to sell all he possessed in Rome, and started for Florence, and stopped not until he was on the ground of Tuscany. The pope sent after him, but as he was a citizen of Florence he threatened the messengers if they touched him. He said he had been treated as a criminal, and he considered himself free from his engagements, and would not return then or ever.

When he reached home a letter came to the Signory of Florence urging his return, and saying that he should be safe. But Michael waited until the third letter was received, and only consented to go when it was arranged that he should be sent as an ambassador of Florence, and be under the protection of the Florentine Republic.

In November, 1506, when the pope had taken Bologna, he sent for Michael Angelo to come to him there. Michael Angelo had not yet seen the pope since he left Rome in anger. When he reached Bologna he went first to San Petronio to hear mass. A servant of the pope recognized him and led him to his Holiness. Julius was at table, but ordered that Michael Angelo should come in, and said to him, "You have waited thus long, it seems, till we should ourselves come to seek you." Michael Angelo kneeled down and begged his pardon, but added that he had remained away because he had been offended. The pope looked at him doubtfully, when one of the priests, fearing what would happen, advised the pope not to judge an ignorant artist as he would another man. Then the pope turned upon him in great anger, and declaring that he himself was ignorant and miserable, ordered him out of his sight. The poor ecclesiastic was so terrified that the attendants were obliged to carry him out, and then the pope spoke graciously to the sculptor, and commanded him not to leave Bologna without his permission. The pope soon gave him an order for a colossal statue in bronze to be erected in Bologna.

The first cast of this statue failed, and the work was not ready to be put in its place until February, 1508. This being done, Michael Angelo returned to Florence, where he had much to do; but Julius soon sent for him to go to Rome, and insisted that he should paint the roof of the Sistine Chapel, which occupied him a long time.

In 1513 Julius II. died, and Michael Angelo resumed his work upon his mausoleum. The pope had mentioned it in his will, and his heirs wished it to be completed. At this time he probably worked upon the statue of Moses and upon the two chained youths. He devoted himself to the mausoleum during three years.

Leo X., who was now pope, demanded the services of Michael Angelo to erect a facade to the Church of San Lorenzo in Florence. The artist objected to this great work, and declared that he was bound to complete the tomb for which he had already received money. But Leo insisted upon his going to Florence. He had much trouble to get his marble from the quarries—the men were ill there. He was ill himself, and he passed a year of great anxiety and trouble, when there came word from Rome that the work must be given up; the building was postponed, and no payment was made to Michael Angelo! He was much disheartened, but returned to his work on the mausoleum.

About 1523, when, after many changes, Cardinal Medici was pope, the work at San Lorenzo was resumed. But in 1525 the pope again summoned Michael Angelo to Rome. The heirs of Julius were complaining of delay, but at last the pope insisted upon his great need of the artist, and again he was sent back to Florence, where the cupola of the new Sacristy to San Lorenzo was soon finished. Great political confusion now ensued, and little can be said of Michael Angelo as a sculptor until 1530, when he again resumed his work on the Sacristy.

He worked with the greatest industry and rapidity, and in a few months had nearly finished the four colossal figures which rest upon the sarcophagi of Lorenzo and Giuliano de' Medici. The pope was forced to command the sculptor to rest. His health was so broken by the sorrow which the political condition of Florence caused him, and by his anxiety about the mausoleum of Julius, that there was much danger of his killing himself with work and worry. He went to Rome, and matters were more satisfactorily arranged. He returned to Florence, and labored there until 1534, when Clement VII. died, and Michael Angelo left his work in San Lorenzo, never to resume it. Unfinished as these sculptures are, they make a grand part of the wonderful works of this great man. The statues of the two Medici and those of Morning, Evening, Day, and Night would be sufficient to establish the fame of an artist if he had done nothing more. (Fig. 107.)



Under the new pope, Paul III., he was constantly employed as a painter, and architectural labors were put upon him, so that as a sculptor we have no more works of his to mention except an unfinished group which was in his studio at the time of his death. It represents the dead Christ upon his mother's lap, with Joseph of Arimathea standing by. This group is now in the Church of Santa Maria del Fiore, or the Cathedral of Florence. The mausoleum of Julius II. caused Michael Angelo and others so much trouble and vexation that the whole affair came to be known as the "tragedy of the sepulchre." When Julius first ordered it he intended to place it in St. Peter's, but in the end it was erected in the Church of San Pietro in Vincoli, of which Julius had been the titular cardinal. Of all the monument but three figures can really be called the work of Michael Angelo. These are the Leah and Rachel upon the lower stage, and the Moses, which is one of the most famous statues in the world. Paul III., with eight cardinals, once visited the studio of the sculptor when he was at work upon this statue, and they declared that this alone was sufficient for the pope's monument (Fig. 108).

The life of Michael Angelo was a sad one; indeed, it is scarcely possible to recount a more pathetic story than was his. The misfortunes which came to the Medici were sharp griefs to him, and his temperament was such that he could not forget his woes. His family, too, looked to him for large sums of money, and while he lived most frugally they spent his earnings. In his old age he said, "Rich as I am, I have always lived like a poor man."



In 1529, when Florence was under great political excitement, Michael Angelo was appointed superintendent of all the fortifications of the Florentine territory. In the midst of his duties he became aware of facts which determined him to fly. He went to Venice, and was proscribed as a rebel. We cannot stay here to inquire as to his wisdom in this, but must go on to say that at length he was so much needed that he was persuaded to return. Then he had the dreadful experiences of hope and fear, sickness and famine, and all the horrors of a siege, only to see his beloved home deprived of its freedom, and in the possession of those whom he despised and hated. To Michael Angelo this was far more bitter than any personal sorrow; he never recovered from its effects, and it was immediately after this that he worked in the Sacristy of San Lorenzo as if trying to kill himself.

He was bold as he was angry. He was treated kindly, and advised to forget the past; but he never concealed his views. When his statue of Night was exhibited, verses were put upon it, according to the custom of the time; one verse read, "Night, whom you see slumbering here so charmingly, has been carved by an angel, in marble. She sleeps, she lives; waken her, if you will not believe it, and she will speak."

To this Michael Angelo replied, "Sleep is dear to me, and still more that I am stone, so long as dishonor and shame last among us; the happiest fate is to see, to hear nothing; for this reason waken me not. I pray you, speak gently." He had great courage to speak his anger thus publicly in the midst of those who could easily destroy him.

In 1537 or 1538 his father died, and the artist suffered terribly from his grief. He wrote a sonnet beginning:

"Already had I wept and sighed so much. I thought all grief forever at an end, Exhaled in sighs, shed forth in bitter tears."

The religious views of Michael Angelo were very broad, and he had a trustful and obedient dependence upon God, in whose mercy and love he gratefully rested with the simple faith of a child. It was not far from the time when his father died that Michael Angelo first met Vittoria Colonna. He was now more than sixty years old; and though his poems show that he had loved children and women all his life, yet he had allowed himself no attachments; his life had been lonely and alone. Now, at this late hour, he yielded his heart to this beautiful, gifted woman, who returned his friendship with the fullest esteem. During these years he was happier than he had ever been. But in 1541 she fell under the suspicion of the Inquisition, and was obliged to leave Rome.

During two years they wrote constantly to each other, and each sent to the other the sonnets they wrote. At this time all Italy read the poems of Vittoria, and those of Michael Angelo still stand the test of time. In them he shows the blessed effect of her influence over him. At length she returned to Rome and entered a convent, where she died in 1547. Michael Angelo was with her to the last, and years later he declared that he regretted nothing so much as that he had only kissed her hand, and not her forehead or cheeks in that last hour. His loss was far too great to be told. (An engraving of a portrait of Michael Angelo can be seen in Mrs. Clement's "Painting," p. 95.)

In the year following Vittoria's death all the hopes which he had cherished for the freedom of Florence were crushed. High honors were offered him to induce him to return there, but he would not go. His health failed, his sadness increased, and his writings show how constantly he mourned for Vittoria. After this he did much work as an architect, and held the post of director of the building of St. Peter's. He superintended the erection of the statue of Marcus Aurelius, and completed the Farnese Palace, and had many improvements in mind.

Now, in his old age, he was authority itself in Rome. He had no rival, and his advice was sought by artists as well as others. He lived very simply: he dined alone, and received his visitors in the plainest manner. Anatomy, which had always been a passion with him, was now his chief pursuit. He made many dissections of animals, and was grateful when a human subject could be allowed him.

When he could not sleep he would get up at night and work upon the group of which we have spoken; he had a cap with a candle in it, so that it cast a light upon his work. Vasari once entered when he was at work upon this group, and had a lantern in his hand; he dropped it purposely, so that the sculpture should not be seen, and said: "I am so old that death often pulls me by the coat to come to him, and some day I shall fall down like this lantern, and my last spark of life will be extinguished."

There are many very interesting circumstances told of his last years and his strength of mind, and the work which he did was wonderful; but we have not space to recount it here.

At length, in February, 1564, when almost ninety years old, he died. He had asked to be buried in Florence. His friends feared that this would be opposed, so they held burial-services in Rome, and his body was afterward carried through the gates as merchandise. In Florence the body was first laid in San Piero Maggiore, and on Sunday, at evening, the artists assembled, and forming a procession, proceeded to Santa Croce, where he was buried. The younger artists bore the bier upon their shoulders, and the older ones carried torches to light the way. A great multitude followed the procession, and in the Sacristy of Santa Croce the coffin was opened; though three weeks had passed since his death, his face appeared as if he had just died; the crowd was very great, but all was quiet, and before morning it had dispersed. The Duke had thought that a public funeral would recall old memories, and might cause a disturbance; but Michael Angelo had left Florence thirty years before his death, and his connection with the city was forgotten by many.

The July following was appointed for a memorial service in his honor; San Lorenzo was splendidly decorated; Varchi delivered an oration. Leonardo, his nephew, erected a monument to him in Santa Croce, for which the Duke gave the marble. His statue stands in the court of the Uffizi with those of other great Florentines, but with no especial prominence. His house in the Ghibelline Street is preserved as a museum, and visitors there see many mementos of this great man.

In 1875 a grand festival was held in Florence to celebrate the four hundredth anniversary of his birth. The ceremonies were impressive, and certain documents relating to his life which had never been opened, by command of the king, were given to suitable persons for examination. Mr. Heath Wilson, an English artist, then residing at Florence, wrote a new life of Michael Angelo, and the last signature which Victor Emmanuel wrote before his death was upon the paper which conferred on Mr. Wilson the Order of the Corona d'Italia, given as a recognition of his services in writing this book.

The national pride in Michael Angelo is very strong. "All Italians feel that he occupies the third place by the side of Dante and Raphael, and forms with them a triumvirate of the greatest men produced by their country—a poet, a painter, and one who was great in all arts. Who would place a general or a statesman by their side as equal to them? It is art alone which marks the prime of nations."

The genius of Michael Angelo and his spirit were powerful forces. They pervaded the whole art of Italy to such an extent that it may be said that all sculptors were his imitators, both while he lived and after his death. He loved to treat strong subjects, such as demanded violent movement and unusual positions. It was only a man of his genius who could raise such subjects above grotesqueness and the one effect of strange and unnatural exaggeration. As we look over all his works it seems as if the idea of beauty and such things as are pleasing to the ordinary mind rarely, if ever, came to his mind. Noble feeling, depth of thought, strength, and grandeur are the associations which we have with him, and in the hands of weaker men, as his imitators were, these subjects became barren, hollow displays of distorted limbs and soulless heads and faces.

The result is, that there is little to be said of the immediate followers of this great man. GUGLIELMO DELLA PORTA was one of his most able scholars, and his chief work was a monument to Pope Paul III. in the Church of St. Peter's. The figure of the pope is in bronze, is seated, and holding the right hand in benediction. It is dignified and well designed. The figures of Justice and Prudence are not as good, and two others, Peace and Abundance, which were a part of this work, but are now in the Farnese Palace, lack power, and show an attempt at a representation of mere physical beauty.

BACCIO BANDINELLI (1487-1559) is more noticeable for his hatred of Michael Angelo than for any other characteristic. He was a native of Florence and a friend of Leonardo da Vinci. He was powerful in his design and bold in his treatment of his subjects, but he was full of affectation and mannerisms in his execution of his works. He was false and envious, and his one good quality was that of industry. His best works are on the screen of the high-altar in the Cathedral of Florence, a relief on a pedestal in the Piazza of San Lorenzo, in Florence, and a group in the Church of the Annunziata, which he intended for his own monument; the subject is Nicodemus supporting Christ, and the Nicodemus is a portrait of Bandinelli himself.



CHAPTER VIII.

EUROPEAN SCULPTURE FROM MICHAEL ANGELO TO CANOVA.

Not only Italian artists attempted to follow the great sculptor of Italy, but those of other nations flocked to Rome, and whatever ideas they may have had before reaching that city they seemed to lose them all and to aim simply at one thing—to be Michaelangeloesque.

GIOVANNI DA BOLOGNA (1529-1608) was born in Douai, in Flanders, and was called Il Fiammingo for this reason. Giovanni was intended for a notary by his father, who planned his education with that end in view; but the boy's passion for sculpture was so great that the father was obliged to yield to it, and placed him under the instruction of a sculptor named Beuch, who had studied in Italy. Later Giovanni went to Rome, and finally settled in Florence, where his most important works remain.

He was an imitator of Michael Angelo, and one of his best imitators; but when his works are compared with those of the great master, or with the masterpieces of the fifteenth century, we see a decline in them. In religious subjects Giovanni was not at home; his most successful works were those which represented sentiment or abstract ideas, because on them he could lavish his skill in execution, and use ornaments that did not suit the simplicity of religious subjects. In the Loggia de' Lanzi, at Florence, there are two groups by him, the Rape of the Sabines and Hercules and Nessus. In the Piazza della Signoria is his excellent statue of Duke Cosmo I., and in the Uffizi Gallery a bronze statue of Mercury. The Rape of the Sabines is his masterpiece, and the Mercury is one of the best works of its kind since the days of classic art. It is the favorite Mercury of the world, and has been frequently copied. It is seen in many galleries and collections in its original size, and a small copy is much used in private houses. (Fig. 109.)

Giovanni was especially happy in his designs for fountains, and that which he erected in Bologna, in 1564, in front of the Palazzo Pubblico, is a splendid work of this kind. The statue of Neptune at its summit is stately and free in its action; the children are charming and life-like, and the Sirens at the base give an harmonious finish and complete the outline with easy grace.

He also erected a magnificent fountain in the island of the Boboli Gardens. In the Palazzo Vecchio is a marble group by Giovanni representing Virtue conquering Vice. At Petraja there is a beautiful Venus crowning a fountain remarkable for grace and delicacy, and, all in all, his works prove him to have been the best sculptor of his own time. Tuscany may claim him and be proud of him, for he was far more her son than that of his native Flanders.

Giovanni da Bologna was far less successful in reliefs than in statues, as may be seen in the bronze gates to the Cathedral of Pisa, which he made in the last years of his life. In his character this master was attractive and much beloved by his friends. One of them wrote of him: "The best fellow in the world, not in the least covetous, as he shows by his poverty; filled with a love of glory, and ambitious of rivalling Michael Angelo."

Giovanni decorated a chapel in the Church of the Annunziata with several reliefs in bronze and with a crucifix; he not only wished to be buried here himself, as he was, but he also desired to provide a place of burial for any of his countrymen who might die in Florence. The chapel is called that of the Madonna del Soccorso.



The decline of sculpture in Italy at this period makes its study so unpromising that it is a pleasure to turn to France, where the works of JEAN GOUJON show that he had the true idea of sculpture in relief. From 1555 to 1562 this sculptor was employed on the works at the Louvre, and during the massacre of St. Bartholomew he was shot while on a scaffold quietly working at a bas-relief on that palace.

Goujon was an architect as well as a sculptor, and also a medal engraver, as is shown by the curious and rare medal which he made for Catherine de' Medici. Many of his works are preserved in different parts of France, and some bas-reliefs in the Museum of the Louvre are excellent specimens of his style.

One also sees in France many works by GERMAIN PILON, who died in 1590. He executed the monument to Francis I., and took a part in that of Henry II. and Catherine de' Medici at the Church of St. Denis. He was the sculptor of the group of the three Graces in the Louvre, which formerly bore an urn containing the heart of Henry II., and was in the Church of the Celestines.

But the sculptors of France at this time are not of such interest as to hold our attention long. There was a certain amount of spirit in their decorations of palaces and tombs, but there were no men of great genius, and no splendid works upon which we can dwell with pleasure or profit.

In Germany, too, while there was much activity in sculpture, and public fountains and luxurious palaces and rich ornaments employed many artists, yet there was no originality or freshness in these works, and they fell below those of the past. Bronzes are still made at Nuremberg, but they only serve to make one regret that they are so inferior to those of earlier days; and nowhere in all Germany does any one artist stand out and present a man to be studied in his works or remembered as one of the gifted of the earth. And yet a list of the names of German sculptors of this time would be very long, for all over the land churches were being decorated, monuments built, and statues and fountains erected.

In England the best sculpture of the sixteenth century was seen in the portrait statues on monuments, and we find no great artists there of whom to give an account.



In Spain ALONSO BERRUGUETE (1480-1561), who was the most eminent artist of his time, had introduced the Italian manner. He went to Italy about 1503, and studied in Rome and Florence during seventeen years. This was at the time when Italian sculpture was at the height of its excellence; and Berruguete returned to Spain filled with the purest and best conceptions of what art should be, and the ends it should serve. He has been called the Michael Angelo of Spain, because he was an architect, painter, and sculptor.

Upon his return to Spain he was appointed painter and sculptor to Charles V. Among his most celebrated works in sculpture are the reliefs in the choir of the Cathedral at Toledo; the altar in the Church of San Benito el Real at Valladolid (Fig. 110), for which he was paid forty-four hundred ducats, and his sculptures in the Collegio Mayor at Salamanca. His final work was a monument to the Cardinal and Grand Inquisitor, Don Juan de Tavera, which is in the Church of the Hospital of St. John at Toledo. The sarcophagus is ornamented by reliefs from the story of John the Baptist, which are executed in an excellent manner, simple and expressive.

Other Spanish sculptors were ESTEBAN JORDAN, an eminent wood-carver, GREGORIO HERNANDEZ (1566-1636), who has been called "the sculptor of religion." His works are so full of a spirit of devotion that they seem to have been executed under an inspiration. Hernandez was very devout in his life, and did many works of charity; he often provided decent burial for the very poor who died without friends who could bury them.

Many of his works have been removed from the chapels for which they were designed, and are now in the Museum of Valladolid, where they are not as effective as when placed in their original positions. He is superior to other Spanish sculptors in his representation of nude figures and in the grandeur of his expression.

JUAN DE JUNI (died 1614) studied in Italy, and acquired much mannerism; his works are seen in Valladolid.

JUAN MARTINEZ MONTANES (died 1650) was a famous sculptor, and excelled in figures of children and cherubs. His conceptions had much beauty and depth of feeling, and his draperies were most graceful; and to this power of thinking out clearly and well the subject he wished to represent he added the ability to do his work in an artistic manner, and to give it an elegance of finish without taking away its strength. A Conception by him, in the Cathedral of Seville, is a noble work, and in the university church of the same city there is an altar which is one of his important works. Other sculptures by Montanes are in the Museum of Seville.

The great ALONSO CANO (1601-1667) was a pupil of Montanes in sculpture, and, like so many other artists of his time, was a painter and architect as well as a sculptor. His personal history is very peculiar. He was a man of violent temper, and was often involved in serious quarrels. He was obliged to flee from Granada to Madrid on account of a duel, and when his wife was found murdered in her bed he was suspected of the crime. In spite of all this he took priest's orders, and was appointed to a canonry in the Cathedral of Granada; but on account of his temper he was deprived of this office by the chapter of the cathedral. He was so angry at this that he would do no more work for the cathedral.

He devoted the remainder of his life to religious and charitable works. He gave away the money he earned as soon as he received it, and when he had no money to give away he was in the habit of making drawings, which he signed and marked with a suitable price; these he gave to the person he desired to assist, and recommended some person to whom application to buy the work could be made. After his death a large number of these charitable works was collected.

He hated Jews with such hatred that he could not endure to look at one, and many strange stories are told of him in connection with these people.

He loved his chisel better than his brush, and was accustomed to say that when weary he carved for rest. One of his pupils expressed great surprise at this, when Cano answered, "Blockhead, don't you perceive that to create form and relief on a flat surface is a greater service than to fashion one shape into another?"

The most beautiful sculpture by Cano which remains is a Virgin about a foot high in the Sacristy of the Cathedral of Granada, where there are several other statuettes by him. These are colored in a manner which the Spaniards call "estofado;" it has the effect to soften the whole appearance of the works, like an enamel. At the entrance of the choir of the cathedral there are two colossal busts by Cano; they are grand works, and are called Adam and Eve.

PEDRO ROLDAN (1624-1700), born at Seville, is an interesting sculptor because of his work, and on account of his being the last one whose manner was like that of Juni and Hernandez. His first celebrated work was the high-altar in the chapel of the Biscayans in the Franciscan convent. When the Caridad, or Hospital of Charity, was restored, Roldan executed the last great work in painted sculpture; it was an immense piece for the centre of the retablo of the high-altar of the church, and represented the Entombment of Christ.

Seville abounds in his works, and he executed bas-reliefs in stone for the exterior of the Cathedral at Jaen. He was so devoted to his art that he felt every moment to be lost that was not spent in its service. He married a lady of good family, and lived in the country; when obliged to go to Seville he was accustomed to carry a lump of clay, and model from it as he rode along. Roldan was not by any means the best of Spanish sculptors, but he had great skill in the composition of his works, and the draperies and all the details were carefully studied. His daughter, Dona Luisa Roldan, studied sculpture under her father's instruction, and became a good artist; he was accustomed to allow her to superintend her studio and his pupils. She often aided him by her suggestions, and on one occasion, when a statue that he had made was rejected, she pointed out to him certain anatomical defects, which he remedied, and the whole appearance of the work was so changed that it was thought to be new, and was accepted for the place for which it had been ordered.

The works executed by Dona Luisa were principally small figures of the Virgin, the Adoration of the Shepherds, and kindred subjects. Several of these were presented to King Charles II., and he was so pleased by them that he ordered a life-size statue of St. Michael for the Church of the Escorial. She executed this to his satisfaction, and he then appointed her sculptress in ordinary to the king. She died at Madrid in 1704, surviving her father but four years. She left works in various convents and churches.

In Italy at the beginning of the seventeenth century a new era in sculpture was inaugurated. Art was now required to serve the Church in the way of appealing to sentiments and feeling in a far coarser and more sensational a manner than formerly. Painting was suited to these purposes far more than sculpture, and it had been raised to great heights, in Spain, by Murillo, in the North by Rubens and his followers, and in Italy by numerous masters.

Luebke says of this period: "All that was now demanded of art was effect and feeling at any price. The one was attained through the other. A passionate excitement pulsates throughout all artistic works; the ideal repose of the former altar-pieces no longer satisfied. Longing, devotional ardor, passionate rapture, enthusiastic ecstasy—these are the aims of the new art. No longer the solemn dignity of the saint, but the nervous visions of enraptured monks, are its ideal. It delights in thrilling delineations of martyrdom, seeking to render such scenes as effective and touching as possible. A desire for substantial power, a political-religious tendency, had taken possession of art, and had adapted it to its own objects. That, under such circumstances, painting reaches a new and truly artistic importance may be traced above all to the great masters who now cultivated the art, and still more to the tone of the age, which promoted it in a rare measure.... The same spirit, however, which imparted such genuine importance to painting produced the ruin of sculpture. This epoch, more than any other, is a proof that the greatest men of talent, appearing in a perverted age, are carried by their very genius all the more certainly to ruin. All that, in a more favorable period, would have raised them to be stars in the art firmament, now made them fall like some ignis fatuus, the brilliant light of which owes its illusory existence only to miasma. This striking fact appears, at first sight, inexplicable; but it is easy to understand, if we consider the different character of the two arts. Plastic art had formerly emulated painting, and thus, especially in relief, had suffered unmistakable injury to its own peculiar nature. At that time, however, painting itself was full of architectural severity and plastic nobleness of form. Now, when everything depended on striking effect and speaking delineation of passionate emotions, it was compelled to have recourse to naturalistic representation, to freer arrangements and to more striking forms that emulated reality. If, however, sculpture, which could not keep pace with its rival in the enamelled coloring and mysterious charm of the chiaro-oscuro which it brought into the field, would, in anywise, do the same as painting, it was compelled to plunge regardlessly into the same naturalism of forms and into the same bold display of passion with which painting produced such grand effects. And this sculpture did without the slightest scruple, and in this lack of an artistic conscience its whole glory perished. It is true in this passion for excited compositions an excess of splendid works were produced; it is true immense resources were expended, and able artists were employed; but such inner hollowness stares at us with inanimate eye from the greater number of these works that we turn from them with repugnance, and even often with disgust."

The artist who first met this new demand upon sculpture, and may be called the founder of a new style, was GIOVANNI LORENZO BERNINI (1598-1680), a very gifted man. When but ten years old this remarkable genius was known as a prodigy in art, and it was at this early age that his father took him to Rome. Pope Paul V. was soon interested in him, and Cardinal Barberini assisted him in his studies; from this fortunate beginning all through his life good fortune attended his steps. He lived through the pontificate of nine popes, and was always in favor with the reigning head of the Church. This gave him the opportunity to fill Rome with his works, and he imprinted himself upon the art of the Eternal City; no artist since the time of Michael Angelo held such sway, and Bernini acquired his power easily, while the grand Michael Angelo was disputed at every step, and fought a long, hard battle before he was allowed to take the place which was so clearly his by right.

The fame of Bernini extended to other lands, and he was invited to France, where he went when sixty-eight years old, accompanied by one of his sons and a numerous retinue. He was loaded with favors, and received large sums of money and many valuable presents. In Rome, too, he was much favored; he held several church benefices, and his son was made a Canon of Santa Maria Maggiore; and it was in this church that Bernini was buried with great magnificence, as became his position and his wealth, for he left the immense fortune of four hundred thousand Roman crowns.

Bernini had great versatility of talent, a remarkable imagination and power of conceiving his subjects clearly, and, more than all, he had marvellous power of execution and compelling his marble to show forth his thought. It has been said that marble was like wax or clay beneath his hand. He was subject to no rules; indeed, he believed that an artist must set aside all rules if he would excel. This sounds very fascinating, but a study of Bernini's works will show that it is a deceitful maxim. A man of small talent could do nothing in this way, and even Bernini, who without doubt had great gifts, often failed to make up in any way for the sins against rules of which he was guilty. Westmacott, in his writing upon sculpture, says it would have been better for art if Bernini had never lived; and it is true that in his struggle for effect he was an injury rather than a benefit to the art of his own day and the succeeding years.

The worst defect in the sculpture of Bernini is his treatment of the human body. At times he exaggerates the muscular power beyond all resemblance to nature, and again he seems to leave out all anatomy and soften the body to a point that far exceeds possibility. This softness is seen in his Apollo and Daphne, which shows the moment when she is suddenly changed into a laurel-tree in order to escape the pursuit of the young god. This group is in the Villa Borghese, at Rome; it was executed when Bernini was but eighteen years old, and near the close of his life he declared that he had made little progress after its production.

But he reached the height of this objectionable manner in his representation of the Rape of Proserpine, which is in the Villa Ludovisi. The Pluto is a rough, repulsive man, with whom no association of a god can be made, and the Proserpine is made a soulless, sensual figure, so far from attractive in a pure sense that we are almost willing that Pluto should carry her to some region from which she is not likely to come back. At the same time we are sorry not to provide her with an ointment for the blue marks which the big hands of Pluto are making on her soft flesh. The plain truth is, that this work makes a low and common thing of a subject which could be so treated as to be a "thing of beauty" in a charming sense. (Fig. 111.)



Bernini executed a statue of St. Bibiana for the church of that saint at Rome, and one of St. Longinus in one of the niches to the dome of St. Peter's; he also made the designs for the one hundred and sixty-two statues in the colonnades of St. Peter's, and for the decorations of the bridge of St. Angelo; in such works, almost without exception, he chose some moment in the lives of the persons represented that called for a striking attitude and gave an opportunity for an effect that is often theatrical. As a mere decoration such statues have a certain value of an inferior sort; but as works of art, as intellectual efforts, they are worthless. However, this decorative effect, as it is seen on the facade of the Lateran, where the figures stand out against the sky, or on the bridge of St. Angelo, is not by any means to be despised; only we cannot call a sculptor a great artist when he can do nothing finer than this.

Some of Bernini's works in which he shows intense suffering have more genuine feeling, and are finer in artistic qualities. One of these is Pieta, in the chapel of St. Andreas Corsini in the Lateran. But he frequently goes beyond the bounds of good taste, as, for example, on the monument to Pope Urban VIII., in St. Peter's, where he represents Death with his bony hand writing the inscription on the panel; this is truly terrible, and not less so is another Death upon the monument of Alexander VII., raising the marble curtain before the entrance to the vault, as if he were inviting one to walk in. Many objections can be made to his draperies. He exaggerated the small curtains seen on some ancient tombs until they were huge objects of ugliness; the drapery upon his figures is so prominently treated that instead of being a minor object it sometimes seems like the principal one; it no longer serves to conceal forms, and at the same time show their grace and motion, but it is inflated, fluttering, grotesque in form and quite absurd when compared with statues in which it answers its true purpose.

Charles I. of England heard so much of Bernini that he desired to have a statue of himself executed by this sculptor; three of Vandyck's portraits of the king were sent to him, and the likeness of the statue was so satisfactory to the monarch that he sent the artist six thousand crowns and a ring worth as much more.

Bernini executed a colossal equestrian statue of Constantine for the portico of St. Peter's; he made another of Louis XIV., which was changed into a Marcus Curtius, and sent to Versailles. He also executed the fountain in the Piazza Navona, at Rome, which is one of his exaggerated works.

FRANCOIS DUQUESNOY (1594-1646) was born at Brussels, and was known in Rome as Il Fiammingo. The Archduke Albert sent him to Rome to study, and he was a contemporary of Bernini. When his patron died Duquesnoy was left without means, and was forced to carve small figures in ivory for his support. His figures of children, which were full of life and child-like expression, became quite famous. An important work of his in this way is the fountain of the Manneken-Pis, at Brussels.

His masterpiece is a colossal statue of St. Andrew in the Church of St. Peter's; it occupied him five years, and is one of the best works of modern art. His statue of St. Susanna in the Church of Santa Maria di Loreto, in Rome, is simple and noble, and is much admired. Little is known of this artist's life, and it is said that he was poisoned by his brother when on his way to France.

There was a goodly company of sculptors following Bernini, but none whose works or life was of sufficient importance or interest to demand our attention here, and we will pass to the sculpture of France, where the arts were less devoted to the service of the Church and more to the uses of kings, princes, and noblemen. The court of France was devoted to pomp and pleasure, and sculpture was used for the glorification of the leaders in all its follies. In one sense this is more agreeable than the art in Italy which we have been considering, for nothing can be more disagreeable than a false religious sentiment in art; it is only when the artist is filled with true devotion and feels deeply in his own soul all that he tries to express in his work that religious representations can appeal to us agreeably or benefit us by their influence.

SIMON GUILLAIN (1581-1658) is especially interesting as the sculptor of the statue of Louis XIV. as a boy, which is in the Louvre; those of his parents are also there; formerly they decorated the Pont au Change. Other works by this master are in the same museum.

JACQUES SARRAZIN (1588-1660) is only known by his works, which are now in the Louvre, of which a bronze bust of the Chancellor Pierre Seguier is worthy of notice.

FRANCOIS ANGUIER (1604-1669) was born at Eu, in Normandy, and was the son of a carpenter, who taught his son to carve in wood at an early age. When still quite young Francois went to Paris to study, and later to Rome. He became one of the first artists of his time in France, and was a favorite of the king, Louis XIII., who made him keeper of the gallery of antiquities, and gave him apartments in the Louvre. Most of his important works were monuments to illustrious men. His copies of antique sculptures were very fine.

MICHEL ANGUIER (1612-1686) was a brother of the preceding, with whom he studied until they both went to Rome. Michel remained there ten years, and was employed with other artists in St. Peter's and in some palaces. In 1651 he returned to Paris, and assisted Francois in the great work of the tomb of the Duke de Montmorenci at Moulins.

Michel executed a statue of Louis XIII., which was cast in bronze. He adorned the apartments of Queen Anne of Austria in the Louvre, and for her executed the principal sculptures in the Church of Val de Grace; a Nativity in this church is his best work. His sculptures are seen in various churches, and he also executed statues of ancient gods and vases for garden ornaments. He was a professor in the Academy of Arts in Paris, and wrote lectures on sculpture.

FRANCOIS GIRARDON (1630-1715), born at Troyes, was a protege of the Chancellor Seguier. Louis XIV. gave him a pension, by which he was enabled to study in Rome, and after his return to France the king gave him many commissions. The monument to Cardinal Richelieu in the Church of the Sorbonne is from the hand of this sculptor. Perhaps his best-known work is the Rape of Proserpine at Versailles. He made an equestrian statue of Louis XIV., which was destroyed in the Revolution; a model of it in bronze is in the Louvre. His bust of Boileau is a strong, fine work. Many of his sculptures were destroyed by the revolutionists.

A devoted follower of Bernini was PIERRE PUGET (1622-1694). His works are seen at the Louvre and at Versailles. His group of Milo of Crotona endeavoring to free himself from the claws of the lion is full of life and is natural, but the subject is too repulsive to be long examined; his Perseus liberating Andromeda is more agreeable, and is noble in its forms and animated in expression. His Alexander and Diogenes is in relief, and is effective and picturesque.

ANTOINE COYSEVOX (1640-1720) was born at Lyons, and manifested his artistic talent very early in life. Before he was seventeen years old he had distinguished himself by a statue of the Virgin, and progressed rapidly in his studies, which he made in Paris. In 1667 he was engaged by Cardinal Furstenburg to go to Alsace to decorate his palace; this occupied him four years. When he again went to Paris he became a very eminent artist. He executed a statue of Louis XIV., and received a commission from the province of Bretagne for an equestrian statue of the same monarch.

Among his best works are the tomb of Cardinal Mazarin; the tomb of the great Colbert in the Church of St. Eustache; the monument of Charles le Brun in the Church of St. Nicolas; the statue of the great Conde; the marble statue of Louis XIV., in the Church of Notre Dame, and others. In the tomb of Mazarin he showed fine powers of construction and excellence of design. The kneeling figure of the minister is a dignified statue and well executed; the statues in bronze of Prudence, Peace, and Fidelity, and the marble figures of Charity and Religion are each and all noble works, and free to a remarkable degree from the mannerisms and faults of his time.

NICOLAS COUSTOU (1658-1733) was a nephew and pupil of Coysevox. He took the grand prize at Paris, and went to Rome to study when he was twenty-three years old. He made many copies of the antique. After his return to France he was much employed. His chief work was a colossal representation of the Junction of the Seine and the Marne. He also made for the city of Lyons a bronze statue representing the river Saone. Some of his sculptures are in the Church of Notre Dame.

GUILLAUME COUSTOU (1678-1746), brother of Nicolas, also gained the grand prize and went to Rome, and on his return made a fine reputation. Much of his best work was for the gardens of Marly; he executed a bronze statue of the Rhone at Lyons; a bas-relief of Christ with the Doctors, at Versailles, and statues of Louis XIV. and Cardinal Dubois, in the Museum of French Monuments.

JEAN BAPTISTE PIGALLE (1714-1785) is the last French sculptor of whom I shall speak here. He was born in Paris, and gained his first fame by a statue of Mercury; but his masterpiece was the tomb of Marshal Moritz of Saxony, in the Church of St. Thomas, at Strasburg. The soldier is represented in his own costume, just as he wore it in life, about to enter a tomb, on one side of which stands a skeleton Death, and on the other a mourning Hercules. A statue representing France tries to hold him back, and a Genius attends on him with an inverted torch. There are many accessories of military emblems and trophies. There have been several engravings made from this tomb, the best part of which is the figure of the Marshal.

Pigalle was a favorite with Mme. Pompadour, of whom he made a portrait statue. She employed him to do many works for her. His best monument in Paris is that of the Comte d'Harcourt, in the Church of Notre Dame.

In the Netherlands, as in Italy, the painting of the time had a great effect upon sculpture, and it was full of energy, like the pictures of the Rubens school; at the same time there remained traces of the traditions of former days, and while a great change had come since the days of Vischer, there was still a firm adherence to nature, and no such affectations and mannerisms existed here as were seen in the works of Bernini and his followers in Italy and France.

One of the ablest sculptors of his day was ARTHUR QUELLINUS, who was born at Antwerp in 1607. He studied under Duquesnoy, and was especially happy in his manner of imagining his subjects, and of avoiding the imitation of others or a commonplace treatment of his own. The magnificent Town Hall of Antwerp was commenced in 1648, and Quellinus received the commission to decorate it with plastic works. His sculptures are numerous, both on the interior and exterior of the edifice. In the two pediments he introduced allegorical representations of the power of the city of Antwerp, especially in her commerce. These compositions are picturesque in their arrangement, but the treatment is such as belongs to sculpture; in one of these a figure which represents the city is enthroned like a queen, and is surrounded by fantastic sea-gods, who offer their homage to her. (Fig. 112.)



We cannot give a list of many detached works by Quellinus, but one of the best of the old monuments in Berlin is attributed to him. It is the tomb of Count Sparr in the Marienkirche.

At the present day Berlin is a city of much artistic importance, and the beginning of its present architectural and sculptural prominence may be dated at about the end of the seventeenth century, not quite two hundred years ago. One of the most influential artists of that time was ANDREAS SCHLUeTER (1662-1714), who was born in Hamburg. His father was a sculptor of no prominence, but he took his son with him to Dantzig, where many Netherlandish artists were employed upon the buildings being constructed there. Andreas Schlueter was naturally gifted, and he devoted himself to the study of both architecture and sculpture, at home and later in Italy. Before he was thirty years old he was employed in important affairs in Warsaw, and in 1694 he was summoned to Berlin, where he executed the plastic ornaments of the Arsenal; the heads of the Dying Warriors above the windows in the court-yard are remarkable works. They are very fine when regarded only as excellent examples of good sculpture, and they are very effective placed as they are, for they seem to tell the whole tragic story of what a soldier's life and fate must often be (Fig. 113).



However, the masterpiece of this sculptor is the equestrian statue of the Great Elector for the long bridge at Berlin, which was completed in 1703 (Fig. 114). Luebke says of this: "Although biassed as regards form by the age which prescribed the Roman costume to ideal portraits of this kind, the horseman on his mighty charger is conceived with so much energy, he is filled with such power of will, he is so noble in bearing and so steady in his course, that no other equestrian statue can be compared with this in fiery majesty. Equally masterly is the arrangement of the whole, especially the four chained slaves on the base, in whom we gladly pardon a certain crowding of movements and forms."

Schlueter also made a statue of the Elector Frederic III., which is now in Koenigsberg. Besides his works in sculpture he was the architect of the royal palaces at Potsdam, Charlottenburg, and Berlin, and there are many sculptures by him at these places. When he was thus in an important position and at the height of professional prosperity he met with a sad misfortune, from the effects of which he never recovered. A chime of bells had been purchased in Holland, and Schlueter was commissioned to arrange an old tower for their reception. He carried it higher than it had been, and was proceeding to finish it, when it threatened to fall, and had to be pulled down. On account of this Schlueter was dismissed from his position as court architect; and though his office of sculptor was left to him his power was gone, and he was broken down in spirit. He was called to St. Petersburg by Peter the Great, and died soon after. Now, the verdict of judges is that he was one of the greatest artists of his age, and that his works, both in sculpture and architecture, belong to the noblest productions of his century.



CHAPTER IX.

CANOVA, THORWALDSEN, AND OTHER RECENT SCULPTORS.

In the middle of the eighteenth century the arts had fallen into such a feeble state that a true artistic work—one conceived and executed in an artist spirit—was not to be looked for. As in the Middle Ages, too, thought seemed to be sleeping. Both art and letters were largely prostrated to the service of those in high places; they were scarcely used except for the pleasure or praise of men whose earthly power made them to be feared, and because they were feared they were flattered openly and despised secretly.

But about the end of the century another spirit arose; a second Renaissance took place, which may be traced in literature and in art, as it may be in the movement of political events and an independence of thought everywhere.

Naturally the question as to where artists could turn for their models was an important one, and as before in various epochs in art the antique had been the "only help in time of trouble," so it proved again. In 1764 Winckelmann published his "History of Ancient Art," in which the rich significance of classic art was clearly placed before the student. The service which this author rendered to art can scarcely be over-estimated, coming, as it did, at a time when the genius of art seemed to have turned his back upon the world, and all true inspiration was lost. At about the same time the monuments of Athens were recalled to the European world by Stuart and Revett in their architectural designs, and by the end of the century the study of the antique had done its transforming work, and artists were striving for more worthy ends than the favor of kings and powerful patrons. This new study of classic art did not show its full and best results until the Danish sculptor Thorwaldsen executed his works; but before his time others were striving for that which it was his privilege to perfect.

Among the earliest and most famous of these eighteenth-century reformers was the Venetian, ANTONIO CANOVA (1757-1822). He was born in Possagno, and was the son and grandson of stone-cutters. His father died when he was very young, and he was thus left to the care and instruction of his grandfather, the old Pasino Canova, who lost no time in accustoming the boy to the use of the chisel, for there are cuttings in existence which were executed by Canova in his ninth year. Signor Giovanni Faliero dwelt near Possagno, and was in the habit of employing Pasino Canova frequently; he entertained such respect for the old stone-cutter that he sometimes asked him to spend a few days at his villa. On these visits the old man was accompanied by Antonio, who soon became a favorite with all the family of Faliero, and a friend of the young Giuseppe.

On one occasion when Pasino and the boy attended a festival at Villa Faliero, the ornament for the dessert was forgotten. When the servants remembered it at the last moment they went to the old Pasino in distress, and begged him to save them from the displeasure of the master. The old man could do nothing for them, but the young Tonin, as he was called, asked for some butter, and from it quickly carved a lion. At table this strange ornament attracted the attention of all the guests, and Tonin was called in to receive their praises; from this time the Senator Faliero became his patron, and he placed the boy under the instruction of Giuseppe Bernardi, called Toretto, a Venetian sculptor who had settled at Pagnano.

At this time Canova was twelve years old; he studied two years under Toretto, and made many statues and models, which are still preserved by the Faliero family, or in other collections. His first really original work was the modelling of two angels in clay; he did these during an absence of his master's; he placed them in a prominent place, and then awaited Toretto's opinion with great anxiety. When the master saw them he was filled with surprise, and exclaimed that they were truly marvellous; from these models the grandfather cut two angels in pietra dura for the high-altar at Monfumo. At this same period Canova made his first representations of the human form; he was accustomed to make small statues and give them to his friends.

When he was fifteen years old Faliero sent for him, and received him into his own family. Canova wished to earn something for himself, and engaged to work half of the day for Giuseppe Ferrari, who was a nephew of his former master, Toretto. Of this time Canova afterward wrote: "I labored for a mere pittance, but it was sufficient. It was the fruit of my own resolution, and, as I then flattered myself, the foretaste of more honorable rewards." This circumstance proves how remarkable he must have been; it is unusual for a boy of fifteen to be paid for work instead of paying for instruction. In Venice he was able to learn much from observation. He divided his time systematically, spending his mornings in the Academy or some gallery, his afternoons in the shop where he was employed, and his evenings in studies for which he had had no opportunity as a child.

The first commission which was given to Canova was from the Commendatore Farsetti for a pair of baskets filled with fruit and flowers, to be sculptured in marble, and placed on a staircase which led to the picture gallery in the Farsetti Palace, where Canova spent much time in study. These works have no special excellence.

After a year in Venice he went to Asolo with the Faliero family. Some time before this his patron had asked Canova to make for him a group of Orpheus and Eurydice, taking the moment when Eurydice beholds her lover torn away from her forever. Canova had been busy with this in his leisure hours in Venice, and he took with him to Asolo everything necessary to the work. He completed the Eurydice in his sixteenth year; it was life-size, and cut from pietra di Costosa.

With this first attempt Canova became convinced that the small models such as were in use by sculptors were quite insufficient to good work, and he determined that his models should be of the size which the finished work would have, even when colossal.

After this time he had his studio in a cell of the monastery of the Augustine friars attached to the Church of San Stefano, in Venice. During the next three years he was occupied with his Orpheus and a bust of the Doge Renier. At this time he studied entirely from nature; he devoted himself to the pursuit of anatomy, and after a time was accustomed to make dissections in order to sketch or model from important parts or some conformations that he desired in particular instances.

In 1776 his Orpheus was finished and exhibited, and it chanced to be at the annual festival of the Ascension, when the opera of Orpheus was brought out in Venice. Canova was accustomed to say that the praise he then received was "that which made him a sculptor;" and so grateful was he for it that later, when he became Marquis of Ischia, he chose for his armorial ensigns the lyre and serpent which are the mythological symbols of Orpheus and Eurydice. The Senator Grimani ordered a copy of the Orpheus, and this was the first work of Canova in Carrara marble.

He soon found his workshop too small, and removed to one in the street of San Maurizio, where he remained until he left his native country. His next work was a statue of AEsculapius, larger than life; a short time before his death, when he saw this statue, he sorrowfully declared that "his progress had by no means corresponded with the indications of excellence in this performance of his youth." About this time he executed an Apollo and Daphne which was never entirely finished, and when twenty-two years old he completed a group of Daedalus and Icarus for the Senator Pisani. This was intended for an exterior decoration of his palace; but when it was done Pisani considered it worthy of a place in his gallery, already famous on account of the painting of Darius and his Family, by Paul Veronese, and other fine works. This may be called Canova's last work in Venice, as he went to Rome soon after his twenty-third birthday.

The Cavaliere Zuliani was then the representative of Venice in Rome, and Faliero gave Canova letters to him. Zuliani was an enlightened patron of art, and he received the young sculptor with great kindness, and soon arranged to have his model of Daedalus and Icarus exhibited to the best artists and judges of art in Rome. We can fancy the anxiety with which Canova went to this exhibition; but the praise which he there received secured for him a place among the artists then in Rome.

Canova had a great desire to undertake a group of some important subject, and Zuliani was his friend in this; for he gave him the marble, and promised if no other purchaser appeared to give him the full value of the work when completed. He also gave him a workshop in the Venetian Palace, to which no one had access, where he could be entirely free and undisturbed. The subject chosen for the group was Theseus vanquishing the Minotaur, and the size was to be colossal. Canova now worked with untiring devotion; he was often seen before the statues on Monte Cavallo, with sketch-book in hand, as soon as it was light enough for him to see, and he studied faithfully in the museums and galleries of Rome. His friends in Venice had secured for him a pension of three hundred ducats, which placed him above want, and he was free to devote himself to his Theseus, although while at work on that he made a statue of Apollo, which was exhibited with Angelini's Minerva, and received much praise.

Meantime no one knew of the Theseus save the ambassador. When it was finished Zuliani prepared it for exhibition, and invited all the most distinguished men in Rome to an entertainment. A model of the head of Theseus was put in a prominent place, and the guests were busy in discussing it; they asked questions and expressed opinions, and when their interest was well awakened Zuliani said: "Come, let us end this discussion by seeing the original," and the statue was unveiled before their eyes. Canova often declared that death itself could not have been more terrible to him than were those moments. But he and all else were forgotten in the surprise and admiration which the group excited; in that hour the artists who afterward hated him gave him their sincere praise. From that day the fame of Canova was established.

Very soon he was selected to erect a monument to Clement XIV. This pope was a famous man; he was the collector of the Clementine Museum, the author of the elegant letters known by his family name of Ganganelli, and, above all, he was the suppressor of the Jesuits. While Canova felt the honor that was thus offered him he also thought himself bound to consult those who had conferred his pension upon him, and thus helped him to become the artist that he was. He went, therefore, to Venice and sought direction from the Senate; he was told to employ his time as should be most profitable to himself. He therefore gave up his studio in Venice, and as his patron, Zuliani, had now left Rome, he fitted up the studio in the Strada Babbuino, which became so well known to lovers of art of all nations who visited Rome. In 1787 the above monument was exhibited, and was much admired. An engraving was made from it and dedicated to Zuliani; but Canova desired to do something more worthy for his patron, and made a statue of Psyche as a gift to him; Zuliani hesitated to accept it, but finally consented to do so if Canova would in turn accept a number of silver medals with the Psyche on one side and a head of Canova on the other, which he could give to his friends. In the midst of all this Zuliani died, and his heirs were so angry because he had left works of art to the Public Library that they refused to carry out his plans. In the end the Psyche was bought by Napoleon and presented to the Queen of Bavaria.



Canova executed a second papal monument to Pope Clement XIII. It was erected in St. Peter's by his nephews. The mourning genius upon it is frequently mentioned as one of Canova's happiest figures. The execution of these two monuments occupied almost ten years of the best part of this sculptor's life.

Canova's fame had extended over all Europe, and he was asked to go to St. Petersburg, and offered most advantageous terms if he would do so; but he declined, and executed the monument of Admiral Emo, on a commission from the Venetian Senate. For this work he received a gold medal and an annuity for life.

In 1798, during the revolutionary excitement at Rome, Canova went to Possagno, his native town. Here, in his retirement, he painted more than twenty pictures, which were by no means to be despised. His masterpiece represented the Saviour just taken from the cross, and surrounded by the Marys, St. John, Nicodemus, and Joseph of Arimathea. This was the first of the many gifts which he made to this little church, by which it became a splendid temple and the expression of Canova's love for his birthplace and early home.

After he returned to Rome his health was not sufficient to allow of his usual close application to work, and he went to Berlin and Vienna in company with Prince Rezzonico, and this so benefited him that he was able to resume his labors with new energy. He soon achieved a proud triumph, for his Perseus was placed in one of the Stanze of the Vatican by a public decree; this was the first modern work which had been thus honored.

In 1802-1803 Napoleon requested Canova to go to Paris to model a portrait bust for a colossal statue; the work was finished six years later. In 1805 the artist went again to Vienna, where he modelled a bust of the Emperor of Austria; in 1810 again to Paris to prepare a model for the statue of Maria Louisa. With the exception of these short journeys he was constantly at work in his Roman studio until 1815, when he was sent in an official capacity to France by the pope, for the purpose of reclaiming the works of art which had been carried from Italy in times of war, and which really belonged to the patrimony of the Church. Canova executed his commission with rare judgment, and then continued his journey to England. In London he received many honors; the king gave him an order for a group, held several conversations with him, made him valuable gifts, and intrusted him with a private letter to the pope.

Canova returned to Rome on January 5th, 1816. His entry might almost be called a triumphal one, for the people of Rome were so grateful for the restoration of their treasures that they expressed their joy in demonstrations to Canova. He had been President of St. Luke's Academy before; he was now made President of the Commission to purchase works of art, and of the Academy of Archaeology. In full consistory of all the high officers of the Church, the pope caused his name to be inscribed upon the "golden volume of the Capitol," and conferred upon him the title of Marquis of Ischia, with a pension of three thousand crowns a year.

Canova now determined to execute a colossal statue of Religion, which should commemorate the return of the pope from banishment. He endeavored to persuade the authorities to decide where it should be placed; this was not done, and he was much grieved at his failure to carry out the idea. But he determined that from this time he would devote his life and fortune to religion, and resolved to erect a church at Possagno, to adorn it with works of art, and to make it his own burial-place.

On July 8th, 1819, Canova assembled his workmen in his native town, and gave them a fete; many peasant girls joined in the festivities and assisted in the breaking of the ground; at evening, as they all passed before Canova to bid him farewell, each one received a gift from him. Three days later the religious ceremony of laying the corner-stone of the future church took place. An immense number of people from the surrounding country and from Venice were present; Canova, in his robes as a Knight of Christ, and wearing the insignia of other orders, led the procession; all who had seen Canova when a poor boy in their midst were much impressed by this occasion. Here, in a public manner, he consecrated his life and fortune to the service of God and the benefit of his birthplace. Every autumn Canova went to Possagno to encourage the workmen and to give directions as to how the whole should be done. Between these visits he worked devotedly, for he was forced to earn all he could in order to pay for his great undertaking.

At this time he executed a statue of Washington, and was making an equestrian statue of Ferdinand of Naples, and in the month of May, 1822, went to that city, where he fell ill; he returned to Rome, and revived somewhat, and resumed his work. On September 17th he went to Possagno, in October to Villa Faliero, where, fifty years before, he had spent such happy days. From here he went to Venice, and on the 13th of the same month he died.

Solemn services were held in the cathedral, and his remains were then intrusted to the priests of Possagno, who bore them to their temple, where he was buried on the 25th of the month; the crowd was so great that the oration was delivered in the open air. Canova's heart was given to the Academy of Venice, and an elegant little monument was erected in the Palace of Arts to contain this relic of the sculptor. The Venetian artists arranged to erect to him a monument, and chose the design which he himself had made for the tomb of Titian; it is in the Church of Santa Maria de' Frari. In Rome a statue was decreed to him, and he was declared the perpetual President of her chief academy.

In personal appearance Canova was not grand or very attractive. His head was remarkably well placed upon his shoulders, and the loose manner in which he dressed his neck allowed this to be seen; his forehead was a noble one, his hair black, and his whole manner and dress was modest and simple. His habits were very orderly and quiet; he rose early to work, and went little into public society; but he welcomed a few friends to dinner almost daily. He entertained them cordially, but without display, and led the conversation to light, cheerful topics that did not touch upon art, or demand mental exertion. At eleven o'clock he retired to his own room and amused himself with a book or pencil before sleeping. Some of his best drawings were made at this hour, and have been published with the title of "Pensieri," or thoughts. To describe one day was to give a picture of all, so regular were his habits of life.