A favourite device on carved tympana above portals was the Last Judgment.  Michael with the scales, engaged in weighing souls, was the tall central figure, and the two depressed saucers of the scales help considerably in filling the triangular space usually left over a Gothic doorway.  At Chartres, there is an example of this subject, in which Mortal Sin, typified by a devil and two toads, are being weighed against the soul of a departed hero.  As is customary in such compositions, a little devil is seen pulling on the side of the scale in which he is most interested!

One of the most cheerful and delightful figures at Chartres is that of the very tall angel holding a sun dial, on the corner of the South tower.  A certain optimistic inconsequence is his chief characteristic, as if he really believed that the hours bore more of happiness than of sorrow to the world.

There is no limit to the originality and the symbolic messages of the Gothic grotesques.  Two whole books might be written upon this subject alone to do it justice; but a few notable instances of these charming little adornments to the stern structures of the Middle Ages must be noticed here.  The little medallions at Amiens deserve some attention.  They represent the Virtues and Vices, the Follies, and other ethical qualities.  Some of them deal with Scriptural scenes.  “Churlishness” is figured by a woman kicking over her cup-bearer.  Apropos of her attitude, Ruskin observes that the final forms of French churlishness are to be discovered in the feminine gestures in the can-can.  He adds:  “See the favourite print shops in Paris.”  Times have certainly changed little!

One of these Amiens reliefs, signifying “Rebellion,” is that of a man snapping his fingers at his bishop!  Another known as “Atheism” is variously interpreted.  A man is seen stepping out of his shoes at the church porch.  Ruskin explains this as meaning that the infidel is shown in contradistinction to the faithful who is supposed to have “his feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace;” but Abbe Roze thinks it more likely that this figure represents an unfrocked monk abandoning the church.

One of these displays the beasts in Nineveh, and a little squat monkey, developing into a devil, is wittily characterized by Ruskin as reversing the Darwinian theory.

The statues above these little quatrefoils are over seven feet in height, differing slightly, and evidently portrait sculptures inspired by living models, adapted to their more austere use in this situation.

A quiet and inconspicuous example of exquisite refinement in Gothic bas-relief is to be seen in the medallioned “Portail aux Libraires” at the Cathedral in Rouen.  This doorway was built in 1278 by Jean Davi, who must have been one of the first sculptors of his time.  The medallions are a series of little grotesques, some of them ineffably entertaining, and others expressive of real depth of knowledge and thought.  Ruskin has eulogized some of these little figures:  one as having in its eye “the expression which is never seen but in the eye of a dog gnawing something in jest, and preparing to start away with it.”  Again, he detects a wonderful piece of realism and appreciative work in the face of a man who leans with his head on his hand in thought:  the wrinkles pushed up under his eye are especially commended.