tained. The peculiar style which his genius, and both his moral and intellectual character led him to adopt, was wholly removed from that which, by flattering popular tastes, may secure for its cultivators a rapid and easily earned reputation.

The ceremonies, however, necessary to complete the funeral honours of Michael Angelo were not yet ended; and some weeks after, his solemn obsequies were performed in the church of San Lorenzo, where a magnificent catafalque or monumental pile was raised in his honour by the united abilities of the Florentine sculptors and painters. Some idea may be formed of this structure, when it is mentioned that it was twenty feet by seventeen at its base, and more than fifty feet high; and that from its base to its top it was surrounded by paintings and statues representative or emblematical of the events in Michael Angelo's life, or of the triumphs he had effected in his favourite arts.

This remarkable catafalque occupied the middle of the great nave in the church, which, on the day the ceremonies took place, was hung with black, and illuminated in the most splendid manner, not merely the body of the building, but every chapel being decorated with paintings and other ornaments in honour of the deceased. The mass for the dead was performed, amid these manifestations of public respect, with all the pomp and solemnity of which that impressive though vain ceremony is capable; and at its conclusion Benedetto Varchi ascended a platform erected for the purpose, and pronounced the funeral oration, an honour so great, that, according to Vasari, Michael Angelo might consider himself fortunate to have died before Varchi, thus to enjoy the reward of his grand and eloquent discourse.

The splendour with which these rites were performed was an apt emblem of the reputation which Michael Angelo possessed during his life; and it would be difficult to name an artist, in any period of the world, or of any country, who more richly deserved, to the very utmost, that celebrity which he at

CHAPTER XIV.

Angelo.

In whatever this great man undertook, we may discern the aspirations of a powerful mind struggling with the difficulties which, by the nature of things and the circumstances of age and coun try, presented themselves in formidable array before his bold discursions and discoveries in the regions of human art. Nothing less than his mighty genius could so far have outstripped the times in which he lived, and by his grasp of intellect, have reached the consummate perfection which distanced all living competition, and rendered his predecessors and successors alike the satellites of one majestic luminary. Difficulties, long insurmountable to other minds, he confronted and triumphed over with the daring inspired by the conscious strength of gigantic intellect. The Homer of painting, he seemed to belong to some higher and grander world; and to draw from sources of joy and woe, far above the level of mere humanity as it is felt to exist.

It was thus the admiration he gained by his works became as universal as it has been lasting. If he ever incurred failure, it seems to have been in conse quence of allowing his art to overstep the modesty of nature by the fire of his genius, and hence his mannerism whenever it obtrudes itself somewhat too glaringly on our notice; hence his stu died display of anatomical science, and his fondness for sporting with difficulties which sometimes led him to the brink of absurdity itself. Whenever this was not the case-when he trusted to his own free conceptions, and was content to express them, as well as the instru ments with which he had to work would allow, the productions of his pencil and of his chisel partook of an almost supernatural grandeur and sublimity; the forms under which he embodied his ideas were marked with fearful strength,

because the natural offspring of his mind could not be otherwise than characteristic of power; and the composition of his subjects was distinguished by a mingled severity of thought and boldness of invention, which, tempering each other, prompted him to depict the awful scene of the Last Judgment, but to reject in so doing any appeal to our more ordinary sympathies.

It was from a perfect consciousness of the advantage which his mind posbsessed when working with as much freedom as possible from whatever injures the simple expression of sublimity, that he felt so decided an aversion to painting in oil, which he denominated an employment only fit for women; and it was probably to the same cause that he owed his early predilection for sculpture, as better calculated than the sister art to express the feelings and ideas in which he delighted. Certain it is that in all his works we may discover a noble struggle to emancipate art from the accidents of fashion and human caprice; an endeavour solely to employ it as a medium of lofty and unchanging truth. No attempt was ever made by him to supply a want of essential beauty in natural forms by the skilful management of drapery, or any of the trickeries of art. He sought no aid from the gorgeous attractions of colour, or even from the austerer effect of light and shade. Whether the materials he employed were marble or colour, he never allowed them to appear but as the true materials of his art.

The only respect in which Michael Angelo put himself occasionally on a level with artists of inferior genius was by suffering the boldness of his manner to degenerate into what the French critics term "the fierceness of his line;" not always what Agostino Carracci means by-

"Di Michel Angiol la terribil via,"

but a degree of extravagance springing from the very exuberance of his powers. His most zealous supporters indeed cannot vindicate some of his productions from faults of this nature; and great -exceptions have been very generally taken to the harsh and obtrusive figures he has not unfrequently introduced into his compositions, apparently from the desire, as was before said, of displaying his anatomical knowledge-a sort of ambition creditable to a young academician, but to which a man of such re

splendent genius would soon, we should suppose, have risen superior.

It is not, however, only by reference to his particular productions that the greatness of Michael Angelo's genius is to be judged. The facility with which he passed from the exercise of one branch of art to that of another proves how unrestricted were its energies, how comprehensive an idea he had formed of nature, and how rapidly he could make himself acquainted with all the modes by which her external forms may be imitated, or her more mysterious operations typified. Sculpture, painting, architecture, and poetry, were all exercised by him with noble success, and were all made the medium of conveying to the world a great and elevating class of sentiments. In his moral and personal character he was equally noble and superior to the rest of mankind. His heart was strongly susceptible of affection, and he delighted in both writing and conversing on the subject of love. Yet Condivi observes, that, in his long intimacy with him, he never heard him speak in any way which did not tend to extinguish every lawless and vicious passion.

Independence,-so difficult for a man to preserve whose fame and fortune depend in a considerable degree on the favour of the great-distinguished both his conduct and sentiments to the latest period of his life; and it was in solitude, rather than amidst flattering assemblies, that he sought for the inspiration which raised him to eminence.

The other habits of Michael Angelo's mind correspond with these, and to his singular temperance, both in youth and manhood, he attributed his power of studying for a greater number of hours than most of his contemporaries. A little bread and wine was all he required for the chief part of the day when employed at his work. Very frequently he rose in the middle of the night and resumed the labours of the day. When he did this, it was his practice to fix the candle on the summit of a pasteboard cap which he wore, in order that he might not interrupt the light by his 'hands. He would often also sleep in his clothes, that he might be ready to proceed to work as soon as he rose, and sometimes would do so from having wearied himself too much to undress. Sir Joshua Reynolds, who, with as much admiration as Vasari himself for the object of our memoir, loved to expatiate

on the excellencies of his character, has not omitted to point out his industry as worthy of imitation by artists of all ages.

CHAPTER XV.

Character of Michael Angelo as an
Architect.

In his capacity as an architect, M. Angelo was extolled for his judicious selection of the sites of his buildings, and for bringing into compositions of harmonious strength and beauty, objects which lay beyond the immediate sphere of his operations. He completed all he began with the hand, not only of a master but of an artificer, embracing, with that commanding genius which belongs only to the giants of their race, the most extended bearings, and the minutest details of his subject, with the same tenacity of idea. By principle, however, Michael Angelo was both practically and theoretically devoted to the Greek architecture; and it was chiefly when called upon to alter and re-model the vast and rudely-designed works of the preceding periods, that he adopted the plan of mingling the Greek and the Tuscan styles. He was in so far a passionate admirer of the purest and most simple forms of the ancient orders, that he almost invariably placed flat pilasters on the fronts of his buildings, and these were principally Doric. He was most of all opposed to the more gorgeous and ornamental style, though unequalled in point of invention and sportiveness of genius. It was hence his architectural labours appeared to so much advantage-at once various and severe in their character; and in his palaces and private residences, he always succeeded in combining chasteness of manner with simplicity and ease. The knowledge he displayed was the more extraordinary, from the fact of his having directed the powers of his mind least of all to that branch of art; and entered upon it extremely late in life. He was, moreover, self-taught, having never received professional instructions from any master. On this ground, probably, when the Pontiff Paul III. invited him to take the direction of St. Peter's, he more than once begged to decline the undertaking. Architecture was not, he declared, his profession; and, on a former occasion, when he had repaired purposely to Florence, in order to construct the façade of the grand church of

S. Lorenzo, he only yielded to the express injunctions of Pope Leo the Tenth. Next to the Laurentian Library, perhaps the most beautiful and admired of his productions, although one of the earliest specimens of his skill, was the Chapel of the Medici, intended as a mausoleum for the family. In the new Sacristy were placed the monuments of Giuliano and Lorenzo de' Medici.

But the master-piece of his labours in this art, was the cortile of the Farnese palace, before alluded to, with the projecting cornice surrounding the exterior. The galleries on the Capitoline Hill are thought to be too complex, and the least correct specimens of a good style. It is asserted, indeed, that, even in the times of Michael Angelo, the remains of ancient architecture were not thoroughly understood, an assertion which is not, however, supported by any sufficient show of reasoning-and much less by anything amounting to procf. On this ground, Mr. Duppa, rather too hastily we think, censures Michael Angelo, detracting from the character and importance of his labours on account of his not having sufficiently freed himself from the prejudices and trammels of his predecessors. "The chequered black and white marble of Brunelleschi," he observes, "in the exterior of public buildings, was the fashion of his day, and whatever partook of novelty in its appearance had sufficient claims to pul lic approbation. Notwithstanding his taste and style of design were very little conformable to ancient simplicity, it was the misfortune of Michael Angelo to consider him as worthy of imitation."

"The taste of Michael Angelo appears to have been misled," he continues, " by some previous associations, which it would now be in vain to seek. In a letter addressed to a gentleman who had probably made some inquiries on the subject of architecture, lie has expressed this singular opinion: * that ability in that art depends upon a knowledge of the human figure, and more especially upon anatomy.'

Had the writer of the above inquired a little more deeply into the nature of the subject on which he hazards so decided an opinion; had he consulted the best authorities, and read the best books upon the art, he would not have considered it so very singular an opinion of Michael Angelo's, and one derived from mere prejudice and error. That such an analogy does exist-that a knowledge

of the human figure-its mutual supports-its connexion-and gradations, is no unnecessary study to the architect, may be shown on the simple principles of analogy. Neither the older critics and commentators on his works, nor the modern Reynolds, Opie, Fuseli, and Flaxman, have ventured to criticise the great artist for too close an attention to the anatomy of the human figure. The reader, however, will form his own judgment with less difficulty on this head, when he has perused the letter in question, from which Mr. Duppa would seem to infer that the artist showed a want of discernment in not perceiving what he considers the utter inapplicability of the principles of the one study to the practical employment of the other. Michael Angelo's observations on the subject are as follow:

"MOST REVEREND SIR,

..

When a design in architecture has different parts, all equal, and of the same character, the decorations ought to be of one character also, and executed

in the same style; and the same rule is to be observed in corresponding parts. But when the design is entirely changed, it is not only allowable, but necessary, to change its decoration; and the same principle is to be observed in the parts which are meant to correspond: the architect, however, always having full liberty to choose for himself, in the first instance, the style of ornament best adapted to his purpose. The nose, for example, in the middle of the face, does not depend upon the one eye or upon the other; but it is necessary that the one hand should be like the other, and that both the eyes should correspond, as well with respect to each other, as to the parts of the face in which they are situated. It is also certain, that the members of architecture have a reference to those of the human body; and he who does not understand the human figure, and particularly anatomy, can know nothing of the subject.

"MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAROTI."

The talents of Michael Angelo as a military architect were made known by his admirable defence of Florence against the imperial troops commanded by Philibert prince of Orange; a subject alluded to in the narrative of his life. Of his general excellence in the art we cannot finally convey a more correct idea, than is given in the few brief words of Fuseli: "The fabric of St. Peter,

scattered into an infinity of jarring parts, he concentrated, suspended the cupola, and to the most complex, gave the air of the most simple of edifices. Such, take him all in all, was Michael Angelo,— the salt of art."

CHAPTER XVI.

Of the Poetry of Michael Angelo. MICHAEL ANGELO observed that painting has the greatest resemblance to poetry: whence by many oftentimes the one has been called mute poetry, and the other speaking painting; and the close friendship in which we continually see painters and poets united, (like that between Giotto and Dante, or that between Petrarch and Simon of Siena,) is not a slight proof of this alliance or sisterhood of the arts. In the same manner, many poets have been endowed with the art of painting, as, for example, Cratinus, a comic poet, Dante, and some of our own times; amongst whom may be mentioned Pope, who had the finest feeling for art, which is traced his beautiful epistle to Jervas, in which throughout his works, particularly in he has so well described the characters of the different great painters. To the name of Pope might be added that of others of less distinction. This companionship of the arts of poetry and painting arises not only from the advantages which the one often derives from the other, but from the union which naturally subsists between them, that is, that each is an imitation of nature. M.Angelo himself was an example of his own position respecting the close alliance between the arts of poetry and painting; and he who had surpassed all of his time in that mute poetry, also produced many beautiful verses, some of which have come down to us, while others have been lost. Like Petrarch, of whose poetry he was an imitator, his muse was inspired by a mistress; and, like Parrhasius of old, he charmed the hours of labour by singing to the pure celestial Venus. The object of his muse was one entirely worthy of the worship of so great a man: Vittoria Colonna was the wife of the illustrious Marquis of Pescara, who died of the wounds he received at the battle of Pavia. At the time when the princes of Italy, in great alarm, sought to lead Pescara from his fidelity to the Spanish cause, she wrote to her husband," Remember your honour, which raises you

above fortune and above kings; by that alone, and not by the splendour of titles, is glory acquired; that glory which it will be your happiness and pride to transmit unspotted to your posterity." After the death of her husband, she betook herself to solitude, that she might lament his loss and celebrate his exploits. Young, and of consummate beauty both of mind and person, she uniformly refused to accept a second husband, though sought in marriage by persons of high distinction. She devoted herself to poetry, and so general was her fame throughout Italy, that ARIOSTO inscribed several of his verses to her. But her peculiar merit as a poet was, that in an age of immorality and grossness, she was the first who consecrated her lyre to subjects of piety unmixed with other matters. To such a person it was that Michael Angelo devoted his soul and his muse. It does not, however, appear whether or not she felt any answering affection, though it is observed by an elegant artist, that he thinks some traces of such a correspondence appear in his poems*. It is however certain that she wrote to him frequently letters of warm regard, and that she many times went to Rome expressly to see and converse with him, openly avowing the pleasure she received from his society; but in the poems of Vittoria Colonna, not a tinge of passion is discernible, though it glows with infinite ardour and tenderness in those of Buonaroti.

The Italian poets of the time amused the multitude, and were admired by them because they made their poetry subservient to levity and gross representations. Michael Angelo, however, did not follow their example, but trod in the path of Dante and Petrarch, his great masters. The platonic notions relating to the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, entirely imbued the minds of the masters of this school, at the time when the fine arts and poetry came forth out of the deep darkness which had shrouded them. It was the object of these men to draw love from the slavery of the senses, and to place it under the guidance of reason; not representing its exterior acts and sensible enjoyments, but delineating that which

* See a very eloquent article by Sig. Radici on the poems of Michael Angelo, vol. xiii. p. 248. of the Retrospective Review. It is to this article, and to Mr. Duppa's life, that we are indebted for what is stated of the poetry of Michael Angelo.

arises in the minds of the good alone, when this, like other affections and passions, is purified and made conformable with virtue. From this cause, neither the works of Dante, Petrarch, nor Michael Angelo received applause except from the learned and good, and more particularly those whose minds were filled with the platonic conceptions of love. It should be observed that Lorenzo de' Medici, Michael Angelo's great and early patron, had drawn around him a society of platonic philosophers consisting of the most celebrated men of his time, and had caused Plato's dialogues to be translated; and it is probable that their doctrines concerning the power of the soul's energies in the configuration of the countenance and person, according to the established habits of virtue and vice, tended at once to awaken the attention of Michael Angelo in his choice of subjects and expression of qualities for the perfection of beauty, and also to imbue him with that peculiar spirit which is apparent in his writings. The following sonnets by Michael Angelo, which have been translated by Mr. Wordsworth, will illustrate the doctrine of this school.

No mortal object did these eyes behold
When first they met the placid light of thine,
my soul felt her destiny divine;
Heaven-born the soul a heaven-ward course must
And hope of endless peace in me grew bold:

And

hold;

Beyond the visible world she soars, to seek
(For what delights the sense is false and weak)
Ideal form, the universal mould.

The wise man, I affirm, can find no rest
In that which perishes; nor will he lend
His heart to aught which doth on time depend,
'Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true love,
Which kills the soul: love betters what is best
Even here below, but more in heaven above.-
Yes hope may with my strong desire keep pace,
And I be undeluded, unbetray'd;
For if of our affections none find grace
In sight of heaven, then wherefore hath God made
Love cannot have, than that in loving thee
The world which we inhabit? Better plea
Glory to that eternal peace is paid,
Who such divinity to thee imparts
As hallows and makes pure all gentle hearts.
His love is treacherons only whose love dies
With beauty, which is varying every hour,
But in chaste hearts, uninfluenced by the power
Of outward change, there blooms a deathless flower
That breathes on earth the air of Paradise.
WORDSWORTH.

In all Michael Angelo's compositions traces of his admiration of Dante are to be found; it is stated that he knew the Divina Commedia by heart;†" and who

+ Monsignor Bottari, in his life of Michael Angelo, mentions that he had a copy of Dante in his posses sion, (the large folio edition with Landino's commen tary,) on the margins of which he had drawn with a pen every thing which was contained in the poems