on in form of the
conceptions of Homer; Italian painting the representation on canvass
of the revelations of the gospel, which Dante clothed in the garb of
poetry. Future ages should ever strive to equal, but can never hope to
excel them.

Never did artist work with more persevering vigour than Michael
Angelo. He himself said that he laboured harder for fame, than ever
poor artist did for bread. Born of a noble family, the heir to
considerable possessions, he took to the arts from his earliest years
from enthusiastic passion and conscious power. During a long life of
ninety years, he prosecuted them with the ardent zeal of youth. He was
consumed by the thirst for fame, the desire of great achievements, the
invariable mark of heroic minds; and which, as it is altogether beyond
the reach of the great bulk of mankind, so is the feeling of all
others which to them is most incomprehensible. Nor was that noble
enthusiasm without its reward. It was his extraordinary good fortune
to be called to form, at the same time, the Last Judgment on the wall
of the Sistine Chapel, the glorious dome of St Peter's, and the group
of Notre Dame de Pitie, which now adorns the chapel of the Crucifix,
under the roof of that august edifice. The "Holy Family" in the
Palazzo Pitti at Florence, and the "Three Fates" in the same
collection, give an idea of his powers in oil-painting: thus he
carried to the highest perfection, at the same time, the rival arts of
architecture, sculpture, fresco and oil painting.[3] He may truly be
called the founder of Italian painting, as Homer was of the ancient
epic, and Dante of the great style in modern poetry. None but a
colossal mind could have done such things. Raphael took lessons from
him in painting, and professed through life the most unbounded respect
for his great preceptor. None have attempted to approach him in
architecture; the cupola of St Peter's stands alone in the world.

But notwithstanding all this, Michael Angelo had some defects. He
created the great style in painting, a style which has made modern
Italy as immortal as the arms of the legions did the ancient. But the
very grandeur of his conceptions, the vigour of his drawing, his
incomparable command of bone and muscle, his lofty expression and
impassioned mind, made him neglect, and perhaps despise, the lesser
details of his art. Ardent in the pursuit of expression, he often
overlooked execution. When he painted the Last Judgment or the Fa