dome of St. Peter's from the seven hills of Rome or the far plains of the Campagna that we realise the glory of Michelangelo's last great creation. To the end his brain was busy with vast projects. The completion of the Farnese palace and the reconstruction of the Capitol were among the labours of his closing years. He it was who placed the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius on the pedestal in the centre of the Piazza and designed the flight of steps leading up to Ara Cœli, and the grand staircase of the Palazzo del Senatore.
The tragic fate which had attended so many of Michelangelo's grandest works, above all, the infinite trouble and perpetual quarrels which arose over the unfinished Tomb of Julius II., clouded his last years with a sense of gloom and failure.
"My whole youth and manhood have been lost," he wrote on one occasion, "tied down to this tomb. Painting and sculpture, labour and good faith have been my ruin, and I go steadily from bad to worse. Better would it have been for me, if I had learnt to make matches in my youth. At least I should not suffer such distress of mind as I do now."
But his friendship with Vittoria Colonna threw a ray of light on his sorrowful old age. Michelangelo first met the widowed Marchesa of Pescara in 1438, when she was living in a Benedictine convent in Rome, spending her time in devotional exercises and writing poetry, and enjoying the society of a few serious thinkers such as Ochino and Contarini, who had been strongly influenced by the movement of the Reformation. The great master, who read his Bible constantly and retained his old veneration for Savonarola, found
