His first task now was a bronze statue of Julius, made, it is stated, as a partial reproduction of the “Moses.”  Descriptions of it declare it was even finer than the “Moses,” but alas! it only endured four years, for a mob evolved it into a cannon to shoot stones, and at the same time ousted Julius from Bologna.

Michelangelo very naturally seconded the anathematization of the Bolognese by Julius, not so much for the insult to the Pope as for the wretched lack of taste they had shown in destroying a work of art.  Had they left the beautiful statue there on its pedestal, Bologna would now on that account alone be a place of pilgrimage.  The cannon they made is lost and forgotten—­buried deep in the sand by its own weight—­for Mein Herr Krupp can make cannon; but, woe betide us! who can make a statue such as Michelangelo made?

Michelangelo now followed the Pope to Rome and began a work that none other dare attempt, but which today excites the jealous admiration of every artist soul who views it—­the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.  Ghirlandajo, Perugino, Botticelli and Luca Signorelli had worked on the walls with good effect, but to lie on one’s back and paint overhead so as to bring out a masterly effect when viewed from seventy feet below was something they dare not attempt.  Michelangelo put up his scaffolds, drew designs, and employed the best fresco artists in Italy to fill in the color.  But as they used their brushes he saw that the designs became enfeebled under their attempts—­they did not grasp the conception—­and in wrath he discharged them all.  He then obliterated all they had done, and shutting out the ceiling from every one but himself, worked alone.  Often for days he would not leave the building, for fear some one would meddle with the work.  He drew up food by a string and slept on the scaffold without changing his clothes.

After a year of intense application, no one but the artist had viewed the work.  The Pope now demanded that he should be allowed to see it.  A part of the scaffolding was struck, and the delight of the old Pope was unbounded.  This was in Fifteen Hundred Nine, but the completed work was not shown to the public until All Souls’ Day, Fifteen Hundred Twelve.

The guides at the Vatican tell us this ceiling was painted in twenty-two months, but the letters of Michelangelo, recently published, show that he worked on it over four years.

It contains over three hundred figures, all larger than life, and some are fifteen feet long.  A complete description of the work Michelangelo did in this private chapel of the Pope would require a book, and in fact several books have been written with this ceiling as a subject.  The technical obstacles to overcome in painting scenes and figures on an overhead surface can only be appreciated by those who have tried it.  We can better appreciate the difficulties when we think that, in order even to view the decorations with satisfaction, large mirrors must be used, or one must lie prone on his back.  In the ability to foreshorten and give harmonious perspective—­supplying the effect of motion, distance, upright movement, coming toward you or moving away—­all was worked out in this historic chapel in a way that has excited the wondering admiration of artists for three hundred years.