The mother seems to find mysterious comfort in gazing upon her son.  Perhaps his death has opened her eyes to the meaning of his life.  If this is so, she cannot grieve.  He has finished the work given him to do, and death is the beginning of immortality.  So sorrow gives place to resignation.  She is again the proud mother.  The fond hopes with which she watched his childhood have been more than fulfilled.  She extends her hand in a gesture which seems to say, “Behold and see.”

It is said that certain Lombards, passing through the church where the Pieta stood, ascribed the work to a Milanese sculptor named Cristoforo Solari.  Michelangelo, having overheard them, shut himself up in the chapel, and chiselled his name upon the girdle which crosses the Madonna’s breast and supports her flowing garments.  His name is not found on any of his other works, and we can understand why he felt proud of such a masterpiece.  Though made when on the very threshold of his career, it was never surpassed even in his later years.  Some other artist afterwards designed the two little bronze cherubs who hold a crown over the Madonna’s head.  They are quite out of harmony with the impressive dignity of the figures below.

Michelangelo’s early love of Greek sculpture taught him many lessons, which were worked out in this group.  It has, first of all, that perfect repose which was the leading trait in classic art.  There is nothing strained or violent in the positions.  Besides this, the figures are so arranged that on all sides, as in a Greek statue, the lines are beautiful and harmonious.

But the subject itself is one which would have been too sad for the pleasure-loving Greek.  To the pagan the thought of death was something to be avoided.  Michelangelo’s statue teaches the highest lesson of religious faith,—­the beauty of resigned sorrow and the sublimity of sacrificing love.

VII

CHRIST TRIUMPHANT

(Cristo Risorto)

The character of Christ is so many-sided that when trying to fancy how he looked while he lived in the world, everyone has probably a different thought uppermost.  The business man and the lawyer may imagine the keen, searching glance which he turned upon those who tried to entangle him with hard questions.  A loving woman thinks rather of the compassionate look with which he greeted the sisters of Lazarus when they came to tell him that their brother was dead.  The physician may wonder how he looked when he spoke the commanding words to those whom he healed.

Others dwell upon his sufferings as the Man of Sorrows, and often think how sad he looked when he referred to the disciple who should betray him.  Lovers of nature like to imagine the look of pleasure on his face in seeing the lilies growing in the field, or the expression of eager inquiry with which he asked the fishermen what luck they had had.  Every boy and girl likes best to think of him smiling upon the children, whom he called to him and took in his arms.