rising from the tomb, others standing on the earth; some flying to the regions of bliss, while others are dragged down to punishment.
Bottari observes[148] that there have been some who affected to depreciate this picture, on comparing it with the works of other artists, by remarking how much he might have added to the expression, to the colouring, or to the beauty of the contours: but Lomazzo, Felibien,[149] and several others, have not failed on that account to acknowledge him supreme in that peculiar branch of the profession, at which he aimed in all his works, and especially in this of his Last Judgment. The subject itself appeared rather created than selected by him. To a genius so comprehensive, and so skilled in drawing the human figure, no subject could be better adapted than the Resurrection; to an artist who delighted in the awful, no story more suitable than the day of supernal terrors. He saw Raffaello pre-eminent in every other department of the art: he foresaw that in this alone could he expect to be triumphant; and, perhaps, he indulged the hope also that posterity would adjudge the palm to him who excelled all others in the most arduous walk of art. Vasari, his confidant, and the participator of his thoughts, seems to hint at something of this sort in two passages in his Life of Michelangiolo.[150] He informs us, "that applying himself to the human figure, the great object of art, he neglected the attractions of colouring, all sporting of the pencil, and fantastic novelty:" and again, "neither landscapes, trees, nor houses, are to be seen in it, and we even look in vain for some degree of variety and ornament, which are never attempted, probably because he disdained to submit his towering genius to such objects." I cannot suppose in Michelangiolo such arrogance, nor such negligence of his own improvement in an art which embraces every object in nature, that he would limit himself to the naked figure, which is a single branch, and to one only character, his own sublime and awful manner. I rather imagine, that discovering his strength in this style, he did not attempt any other. There he proceeded as in his peculiar province, and, what one cannot wholly commend, he observed no limits, and wished for no control. This Last Judgment was filled with such a profusion of nudity, that it was in great danger of being destroyed: from a regard to the decency of the sanctuary, Paul IV. proposed to white-wash it, and was hardly appeased with the correction of its most glaring indelicacies, by some drapery introduced here and there by Daniel da Volterra, on whom the facetious Romans, from this circumstance, conferred the nick-name of the Breeches-maker.[151]
Other corrections have been proposed in it by different critics, both with regard to the costume and the conception. The artist has been censured for confounding sacred with profane history; for introducing the angels of Revelation with the Stygian ferryman; Christ sitting in judgment, and Minos, who assigns his proper station to each of the damned. To this profanity he added satire, by pourtraying in Minos the features of a master of the ceremonies, who, in the hearing of the Pope, had pronounced this picture more suitable for a bagnio than a church;[152] but Bonarruoti did not set the example in such composition. Scannelli has expressed a wish that there had been greater variety in the proportion, and muscularity according to the diversity of age;[153] although, by an evident anachronism, this criticism is attributed to Vinci, who died in 1519. Albani, as quoted by Malvasia,[154] says, that "had Michelangiolo contemplated Raffaello, he might have learned to dispose the crowd that surround the judgment-seat of Christ in a superior manner;" but here I am uncertain whether he blames the composition or the perspective.[155] I can discover, however, an anachronism in his imagining the Last Judgment an earlier work than it really is by many years; as if it had been executed before Raffaello came to Rome.
I find that Albani rendered justice to the merit of Michelangiolo; he reckoned not three great masters in painting only, as is now commonly done; but he added a fourth, and thought that Bonarruoti surpassed Raffaello, Tiziano, and Coreggio, "in form and in grandeur."[156] We may here observe, that when Michelangiolo was so inclined, he could obtain distinction for those endowments in which the others excelled. It is a vulgar error to suppose that he had no idea of grace and beauty; the Eve of the Sistine Chapel turns to thank her maker, on her creation, with an attitude so fine and lovely, that it would do honour to the school of Raffaello. Annibale Caracci admired this, and many other naked figures in this grand ceiling, so highly, that he proposed them to himself as models in the art, and according to Bellori,[157] preferred them to those of the Last Judgment, that appeared to him too anatomical. In chiaroscuro Michelangiolo had not the skill and delicacy of Coreggio; but the paintings of the Vatican have a force and relief much commended by Renfesthein, an eminent connoisseur, who, on passing from the Sistine Chapel to the Farnesian gallery, remarked how greatly in this respect the Caracci themselves were eclipsed by Bonarruoti. Dolce speaks less favourably of his colouring,[158] for this author was captivated by Tiziano and the Venetian school: no one, however, can deny that the colouring of Michelangiolo in this chapel is admirably adapted to the design,[159] and the same, also, would have been the case with his two pictures in the Pauline Chapel, the Crucifixion of S. Peter and the Conversion of S. Paul, but they have sustained great injury from time.
None of his paintings are to be seen in public, except in those two chapels; and those described as his in collections, are almost all the works of other hands. During his residence at Florence he painted an exquisite Leda for Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, to whom however it was not sold. Michelangiolo, offended at the manner in which it was demanded by one of the courtiers of that prince, refused to let him have it: but made a present of it to his pupil, Antonio Mini, who carried it to France. Vasari describes it as "a grand picture, painted in distemper, that seemed as if breathed on the canvass;" and Mariette affirms, in his notes on Condivi, that he saw the picture in a damaged state, and that it appeared as if Michelangiolo had there forgot his usual style, and "approached the tone of Tiziano." This expression inclines one to suspect that he is describing a copy taken in oil by some able painter; especially as D'Argenville informs us that this painting was burnt in the reign of Louis XIII. It is said there is also one of his pictures, representing the Virgin and the Divine Infant, in an upright position, standing near the cradle upon a rock, a figure drawn of the size of nature, formerly in possession of the noble house of Mocci (Mozzi) at Florence; and afterwards transferred to the cathedral of Burgos, where it still remains.[160] Michelangiolo executed likewise a circular Holy Family, with some naked figures in the distance, for Agnol Doni. It is now in the tribune of the Florentine gallery, in a high state of preservation. It is praised by Richardson and some others for the vigour of its tints, and is painted in distemper. Placed among the works of the greatest masters of every school that vie with each other in this theatre of art, it appears the most scientific, but the least pleasing picture: its author seems the most powerful designer, but the feeblest colourist among them all. In it aerial perspective is neglected, inasmuch as the figures are not indistinct in proportion to their diminution, a fault not uncommon in that age. I cannot so readily decide whether his style appears in certain pictures that are described as his in several collections in Florence, Rome, and Bologna, as well as in the catalogue of the imperial gallery at Vienna, and in the royal collections in Spain, that represent the subjects of the Crucifixion,[161] the Pietà,[162] the Infant Jesus asleep, and the Prayer in the Garden. They resemble the design of Michelangiolo, but their execution betrays another pencil. This is rendered probable by the silence of Vasari; their high finish seems incredible in an artist, who, even in sculpture, very rarely attempted it; and our scepticism
