pleted. The irony of fate ordained that this sculptor[1] should only succeed in completing his paintings, which were executed against his real desire. Among his big undertakings, which had alternately produced so many proud hopes and mental sufferings, some—such as the Cartoon of Pisa and the bronze statue of Julius II.—were destroyed during his lifetime; whilst others—such as the mausoleum of Julius II. and the Medici Chapel—piteously failed: caricatures of his thought.
In the "Commentaries" of the sculptor Ghiberti there is related the story of a poor German goldsmith, in the service of the Duke of Anjou, "who was the equal of the sculptors of Ancient Greece, and who, at the end of his days, saw all the work to which he had devoted his life destroyed. He then saw that all his labour had been in vain, and, throwing himself on his knees, he cried: 'O Lord, Master of heaven and earth, Thou who makest all things, allow me no longer to stray afield and follow other than Thee. Have pity on me!' And immediately he gave all he possessed to the poor, retired to a hermitage and died. …"
Like the poor German goldsmith, Michael Angelo, having reached the end of his life, bitterly contemplated his useless efforts, his uncompleted, destroyed and unaccomplished works.
Then, he abdicated. The pride of the Renaissance, the magnificent pride of the free and sovereign soul of the universe took refuge with him "in that divine love which, in receiving us, opens its arms upon the Cross."
- ↑ He called himself a "sculptor," not a "painter." "To-day," he wrote on March 10, 1508, "I, Michael Angelo, sculptor, began the painting of the Chapel (Sistine)." "This is not my profession," he wrote a year later … "I am uselessly wasting my time." (January 27, 1509.) He never varied on this point.
