“You find this form of the console in the Virgin seated leaning over her child; in the Christ nailed on the cross, the legs bent, the body bowed towards the men whom His suffering would redeem; in the Mater Dolorosa who bends above the body of her Son. “Michael Angelo, I repeat, is only the last and greatest of the Gothics. “The soul thrown back upon itself, suffering, disgust of life, contention against the bonds of matter—such are the elements of his inspiration. “The captives are held by bonds so weak that it seems easy to break them. But the sculptor wished to show that their bondage is, above all, a moral one. For, although he has represented in these figures the provinces conquered by Pope Julius II., he has given them a symbolic value. Each one of his prisoners is the human soul which would burst the bounds of its corporeal envelope in order to possess unlimited liberty. Look at the captive on the right. He has the face of Beethoven. Michael Angelo has divined the features of that most unhappy of great musicians. “His whole existence proved that he was himself frightfully tortured by melancholy. ‘Why do we hope for more of life and of pleasure?’ he said in one of his most beautiful sonnets. ‘Earthly joy harms us even more than it delights.’ And in another verse, ‘He who dies soon after birth enjoys the happiest fate!’ “All his statues are so constrained by agony that they seem to wish to break themselves. They all seem ready to succumb to the pressure of despair which fills them. When Michael Angelo was old he actually broke them. Art did not content him. He wanted infinity. ‘Neither painting nor sculpture,’ he writes, ‘can charm the soul turned towards that divine love which, upon the cross, opens its arms to receive us.’ These are also the exact words of the great mystic who wrote the _Imitation of Jesus Christ_: ‘The highest wisdom is to reach the kingdom of heaven through contempt of the world. It is vanity to cling to what is but passing and not to hasten towards that joy which is without end.’” There was silence for a time, then Rodin spoke his thought: “I remember being in the Duomo at Florence and regarding with profound emotion that _Pietà_ by Michael Angelo. The masterpiece, which is ordinarily in shadow, was lighted at the moment by a candle in a silver candlestick. And a beautiful child, a chorister, approached the candlestick, which was as tall as himself, drew it towards him, and blew out the light. I could no longer see the marvellous sculpture. And this child appeared to figure to me the genius of Death, which puts an end to life. I have kept that precious picture in my heart.” He paused, then went on: “If I may speak of myself a little, I will tell you that I have oscillated all my life between the two great tendencies of sculpture, between the conception of Phidias and that of Michael Angelo.