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"commit a great crime by disappointing the cormorants who were daily hoping to get rid of him." In the same letter he also remarks," it is God's will that I should still drag through existence, and I know that you will call me an old and silly fellow to wish to make sonnets; but as many people say I am a child again, I like to do childish things. I am convinced by your letter of the love which you feel towards me, and I therefore beg you to know that I should esteem it a most kind office if you would lay these my feeble bones near those of my father."

The state of his mind may be clearly discerned in this short but expressive letter; and the view of such a mind, at all times worthy of the deepest attention, is doubly so when it begins to anticipate the transition to another state of existence, but retains its faculties in undiminished strength and vigour.

CHAPTER XII.

Progress of the Edifice of St. Peter. THE cathedral was by this time so far advanced, that the thoughts of the architect were now engaged in forming plans for the dome; the splendid frieze and row of double columns from which it was to rise being already completed. His friends were not deficient in offering him their congratulations at the admirable manner in which he had succeeded in bringing his plans to so great a state of perfection; and many of them used their utmost influence to persuade him to proceed immediately with the cupola.

But aware of the importance of this part of the edifice to its general effect, and of the difficulties of executing the noble designs which had been floating in his mind, it was several months before he could determine upon commencing this portion of his labours. At length, however, he overcame his reluctance, and began to form a little earthen model of the dome*. By dint of thought

It is stated that M. Angelo, when he set out from Florence to build the dome of St. Peter's,

turned his horse round on the road to contemplate,

once more, that of the cathedral, as it rose in the gray of the morning from among the pines and cypresses of the city, and that he said, after a pause, "Come te non voglio, meglio di te non posso," (Like thee I will not build one, better than thee I cannot.) He never spoke of it without admiration, and he desired that his tomb should be so placed in the Santa Croce, as that from it might be seen when the doors of the church stood open,

that no le work of Brunelleschi.

and perseverance, he gradually gave it the appearance which he wished to secure, and then employed an ingenious artist to construct from it another model in wood; all the parts of which were to be formed after the exact measurement he had laid down.

The greatest satisfaction was expressed at the beauty of this model, and Michael Angelo had thus effected another very important step towards the completion of his grand design. His daily declining strength, added to the tardy manner in which the sums necessary for the building were supplied, rendered it hardly probable that he would live to see the cathedral itself perfected. But he had at least the satisfaction to know that the noble idea which had occupied his mind was rightly appreciated by those whose approbation he thought worth his regard; that it had now a real and palpable existence; and that should his plans be put aside after his death, by the envy or bad taste of his enemies, posterity would have the means of doing justice to his conceptions.

Soon after the completion of the model, however, Paul IV. ceased to live, and public affairs underwent another change. The character of the late pontiff had exposed him to almost universal hatred; the zeal with which he had endeavoured to support the church assumed the most terrific forms of private revenge; and while those whom he esteemed his enemies bled under the instruments of torture, the people of his own states groaned under as heavy ayoke as the tyranny of any despot had ever imposed. His death was consequently the signal for the most tumultuous popular rejoicings. In the first excitement, the prisons of the Inquisition were broken open; the intended victims of the holy office set at liberty, and the building itself immediately after burnt to the ground. The people next proceeded to hurl down his statue, which, after rolling with every mark of ignominy through all the principal streets, they cast headlong into the Tiber.

Though he had witnessed many revolutions and strange events, and survived seven pontifical reigns, Michael Angelo had little expected to live to be an eyewitness of scenes like these; so derogatory then to the character of the Catholic church, and which gave to the giantspirit of reformation an almost irresistible impulse. So great was the confusion

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occasioned, and the uproar among the people, that four months elapsed before the college of cardinals were able to close their election of another pope. Their choice, however, at length fell on the Cardinal de' Medici, a native of Milan, and no relation of the illustrious family of Florence.

The new pontiff, on ascending the pontifical chair, took the title of Pius IV. and from the commencement of his reign manifested the most decided inclination to cultivate the arts. The ancient monuments of the city were estimated by him at their true value; the streets were repaired, the churches fitted up with extraordinary care, and the palace of the Vatican was embellished in a style of costly magnificence. Had this pontiff been more enlightened in his general views, and less inclined to amass wealth for the purpose of aggrandizing his family, he would have been a worthy successor of Leo X. Michael Angelo experienced his earliest attention, and was restored by him to the chancellorship of Rimini. Besides this mark of favour he received several others highly complimentary to his genius, and which proved how greatly his talents were still prized, notwithstanding his advanced age and the increasing machinations of his opponents.

Pius, having formed the idea of rebuilding the gates of the city, directed him to make designs for one which was to be erected without delay. When the drawings were given in, the pontiff fixed on the one which could be followed at least expense, and the celebrated Porta Pia was erected, to his great satisfaction and that of the Romans in general. It is uncertain whether the designs of Michael Angelo for any of the other gates were followed; the façade of the Porta del Popolo has been supposed to afford some traces of his hand; but the most careful antiquarians deny his having had any share in that structure.

Struck with admiration of the powers of the aged sculptor, and eager to gather with as much speed as possible more designs from the unexhausted wealth of his mind, the pontiff employed Michael Angelo in several other works of importance. Among these was a church formed out of the ruined baths of Dioclesian, in constructing which its great architect proved, in an extraordinary degree, the quickness with which his intellect was still capable of conceiving the noblest plans, and the force with

which it could overcome the difficulties opposed to their execution. This beautiful church, however, was suffered to fall into decay, and the designs of Michael Angelo were destroyed to make room for those of a more modern artist. About the same period, also, he was engaged by the cardinal, Santa Fine, to build a chapel in the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, but the cardinal dying it was left in an unfinished state. Nor were his labours confined even to Rome. The Florentines, being desirous of reerecting the church of San Giovanni in the street of Giulia, the three architects employed on the occasion applied to Michael Angelo for a plan, assuring him that, if he refused to comply with their request, the undertaking must be abandoned.

In his reply Michael Angelo told them that he would do whatever lay in his power to further their wishes, both from the natural love which he bore his country, and from his desire now, in his old age, to employ his abilities to the honour of God. His bodily infirmities. however, obliged him to seek manua assistance, though he retained the same vigour in his mental exercises: and he was now in the habit of employing Tiberio Calcagni, a Florentine sculp tor to whom he was attached, in drawing out or copying his plans. Having, by the aid of this artist, completed three designs, he sent them to Florence that the directors of the building might make their choice; but their surprise and admiration at the beauty of the plans are said to have been so great that they were unable to decide which it would be best to follow. They, therefore, returned them to Michael Angelo, with a request that he would himself determine the question, to which he immediately assented, observing, that if his design was com pleted, the structure would surpass anything that had been ever seen by Greeks or Romans, or by any other people.

Unfortunately domestic troubles and difficulties prevented the prosecution of the work, and the model which had been made for the church of San Giovanni, after having been preserved some time, was destroyed.

The building of St. Peter's was in the meantime proceeding with as much speed and regularity as the nature of the edifice and the funds allowed for it would permit. But the opponents of the aged architect had lost none of their jealous ill-will towards a man who so

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It is proper to state here, that, although drawn nearly to the same scale, the dimensions given to St. Paul's are rather less than the true relative proportions of the two edifices would require.

ciously, that they hoped they were at length on the point of succeeding in their object.

The first step they now took was to send away Luigi Gaeta, one of his assistants, and this provoking Michael Angelo to express himself with considerable warmth, they interpreted his language into a declaration of his willingness to retire. As soon, however, as he became acquainted with the measures they were pursuing, he sent his friend Daniello Ricciarelli da Volterra to the bishop Ferratino, one of the committee of management, to contradict what was alleged respecting his wish to retire.

The bishop, on hearing this, expressed his regret, and observed that if Michael Angelo would resign his charge, certainly too heavy for a man of his age, the managers would willingly accept any one whom he should himself name as his substitute.

The proposition, thus made in apparent good faith, was such as Michael Angelo, or even the most jealous person, could scarcely fail to receive with good humour, as it secured to him that degree of influence which was almost everything desirable, situated and infirm as he then was. Without hesitation, therefore, he acceded to the offer, and naturally supposed that Daniello would be immediately appointed his substitute; but the bishop, instead of acting according to his promise, presented Nanni Bigio to the committee, simply mentioning that Michael Angelo had agreed to appoint a substitute.

The venerable architect heard of this transaction with mingled anger and disgust, and hastening to the pope, he expressed his determination to proceed instantly to Florence, and there end his days, if his holiness would grant him a licence to leave Rome. Pius, however, sought in the kindest manner to soothe his irritated feelings, and promised to inquire into the whole affair. Instead, therefore, of giving credence to the assertions of the architect's enemies that he was ruining the edifice, he sent a person in whom he could place confidence to examine the parts of the structure which were said to be defective. The investigation, it need scarcely be mentioned, ended to the complete satisfaction of both Michael Angelo and the Pope, and Messer Bigio was once more driven away in disgrace.

It is impossible to contemplate, with

out indignation and regret, the persecutions to which Michael Angelo's inflexible integrity exposed him. The greatest genius of the age, advanced in years, bestowing gratuitously his talents in the erection of a fabric unrivalled in any age, was persecuted by every crafty peculator who found himself thwarted: and the directors of the works, wishing to have under their guidance some one whom they could more easily control, or make subservient to their own dishonest views, repeatedly annoyed him, and brought false charges against him.

CHAPTER XIII.

Death of Michael Angelo.

THE event above related was the last circumstance of any importance in Michael Angelo's life. Shortly after its occurrence, his health was observed rapidly to decline; and it was n thought requisite by the pontiff a others of his friends, that arrangements should be made to prevent the dis persion of his effects by improp means, in case of sudden dissolutio Examples are on record of the me barbarous spoliations having tas place on the death of eminent artists, among which what occurred on the decease of Titian is not the least me morable; and from the vast quantity valuable designs, pieces of sculpture and antiquities, which were accu lated in Michael Angelo's house, it was feared lest the rapacity of his attendants might deprive his rightful heirs of ther expected inheritance, and the lovers d art of many valuable relics.

At the beginning of the year 1563, the apprehensions entertained from the inpaired state of his health were consider ably increased; a slow fever assailed him; and he became conscious himse that his mortal career was at an end. By his directions, Daniello da Volterra wrote off immediately to desire his nephew Leonardo to come with all haste to Rome; and the physician Federigo Donati being present, with several of his other friends, he made his will, which simply stated that he resigned his sol into the hands of God, his body to the earth, and his property to his nearest relations. He closed his brief testamen with the exhortation, that in their jour ney through life they should remember

the passion of Jesus Christ. Shortly after thus disposing of his possessions, he expired, his death happening on the twenty-third of February, 1563, when he had completed within a few days the eighty-ninth year of his age.

The conspicuous station which M. Angelo had now for so long a space occupied, rendered his decease an event of considerable importance, and Florence disputed with Rome the honour of possessing his remains. They were, however, deposited, three days after his death, in the church of the Apostles at Rome, the Pope at the same time expressing his resolution to remove them at some future period to St. Peter's, and erect a monument over them worthy of the great artist's fame; "a circumstance," observes the editor of Vasari, "sufficient of itself to show the height of honour to which Michael Angelo had arrived, as it was the pontiffs alone who were usually interred in the cathedral."

The intelligence of his interment was no sooner received at Florence, than the academy of that city held a sitting to consider by what means it might prevent the remains of one who had so greatly increased the honour of the Florentine name from reposing in a distant province. A committee was accordingly chosen with a president of considerable reputation, Vincenzo Borghini, to arrange the preliminaries necessary to their design. The persons selected to represent the academy were Agnolo Bronzino, Giorgio Vasari, the biographer; the celebrated Benvenuto Cellini and Bartolommeo Ammanati. Having finished their consultations on the subject, they resolved upon petitioning the grand duke to obtain the pope's consent that the body of Michael Angelo might be transported to Florence, and deposited in the church of San Lorenzo, which contained the greater part of the noble works executed by the divine artist in his native country.

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Their petition to the prince expresses in a striking manner the veneration with which the memory of Michael Angelo was regarded. "The academy and company of painters and sculptors," it says, having consulted among themselves how, agreeably to the satisfaction of your excellencies, they may in some manner honour the memory of Michael Angelo Buonaroti, to whom it is due, both on account of his excellence in their profession, he having been the greatest artist the world ever saw, and

because of their common country, they are unanimous in desiring that this

should be done in the noblest manner, and to the best of their power. They have therefore made known their sentíments to your excellencies as their most certain refuge and aid. To this address, the latter part of which abounds in compliment to the grand duke, the latter replied, that the readiness which the academy had shown to honour the memory of Michael Angelo gave him great happiness, and that he was not only willing to do that which had been requested in the memorial, but would endeavour to obtain the removal of his body to Florence.

This letter of the duke's produced another address from the academy, in which they thanked him for having employed his orator at Rome to secure the object of their wishes, and begged him to appoint Benedetto Varchi, a distinguished man of letters, to pronounce a funeral oration in honour of the deceased artist. These requests were also immediately granted, and the body, being privately conveyed to Florence, was placed at the foot of the great altar of San Pietro Maggiore. On the following day, all the sculptors and painters of the city were assembled in the church at an early hour; and about midnight the whole of the spectators having surrounded the coffin, the oldest and most celebrated of the artists present suddenly held up the numerous torches which had been prepared for them, and the young men raised the bier, all eagerly endeavouring to assist in the obsequies of so renowned a man.

The church of Santa Croce had been finally destined to receive his remains; and as they were conveyed thither, the streets were crowded by immense multitudes, all loud in their expressions of love and admiration for the sublime genius who had so greatly contributed to the glory of their city. When the procession arrived at the church, it was with the utmost difficulty the bearers could make their way through the concourse of spectators; but this being at last effected, and the funeral service having been performed by the friars of the establishment, the body was deposited in the sacristy, where the president of the academy, expressing his wish to see the deceased, whom he had not beheld for so many years, that he had forgotten his person, declared his intention to open the coffin.

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