ctural labors were put upon him, so that as a sculptor we
have no more works of his to mention except an unfinished group which
was in his studio at the time of his death. It represents the dead
Christ upon his mother's lap, with Joseph of Arimathea standing by. This
group is now in the Church of Santa Maria del Fiore, or the Cathedral of
Florence. The mausoleum of Julius II. caused Michael Angelo and others
so much trouble and vexation that the whole affair came to be known as
the "tragedy of the sepulchre." When Julius first ordered it he intended
to place it in St. Peter's, but in the end it was erected in the Church
of San Pietro in Vincoli, of which Julius had been the titular cardinal.
Of all the monument but three figures can really be called the work of
Michael Angelo. These are the Leah and Rachel upon the lower stage, and
the Moses, which is one of the most famous statues in the world. Paul
III., with eight cardinals, once visited the studio of the sculptor when
he was at work upon this statue, and they declared that this alone was
sufficient for the pope's monument (Fig. 108).

The life of Michael Angelo was a sad one; indeed, it is scarcely
possible to recount a more pathetic story than was his. The misfortunes
which came to the Medici were sharp griefs to him, and his temperament
was such that he could not forget his woes. His family, too, looked to
him for large sums of money, and while he lived most frugally they spent
his earnings. In his old age he said, "Rich as I am, I have always lived
like a poor man."

[Illustration: FIG. 108.--STATUE OF MOSES. _By Michael Angelo._]

In 1529, when Florence was under great political excitement, Michael
Angelo was appointed superintendent of all the fortifications of the
Florentine territory. In the midst of his duties he became aware of
facts which determined him to fly. He went to Venice, and was proscribed
as a rebel. We cannot stay here to inquire as to his wisdom in this, but
must go on to say that at length he was so much needed that he was
persuaded to return. Then he had the dreadful experiences of hope and
fear, sickness and famine, and all the horrors of a siege, only to see
his beloved home deprived of its freedom, and in the possession of those
whom he despised and hated. To Michael Angelo this was far more bitter
than any personal sorrow; he never recovered from its effects, and it
was immediately after this that he worked in the Sacristy of San Lorenzo