that he had no commission whatsoever from you; but that a
messenger was starting to-night for Rome, and that an answer could
come back within five days. So then, if you give him orders, he will
not fail, I beseech you, then, to provide and assist me with any sum
you think fit, and do not fail to answer.

"I will not write more, except that with all my heart and power I
recommend myself to you, praying God to keep you from harm.--Yours in
the place of a son,

"Febo Di Poggio.
"Florence, _January 4, 154_."

X

In all the compositions I have quoted as illustrative of
Michelangelo's relations with young men, there is a singular humility
which gives umbrage to his editors. The one epistle to Gherardo
Perini, cited above, contains the following phrases: "I do not feel
myself of force enough to correspond to your kind letter;" "Your most
faithful and poor friend."

Yet there was nothing extraordinary in Cavalieri, Cecchino, Febo, or
Perini, except their singularity of youth and grace, good parts and
beauty. The vulgar are offended when an illustrious man pays homage to
these qualities, forgetful of Shakespeare's self-abasement before Mr.
W.H. and of Languet's prostration at the feet of Sidney. In the case
of Michelangelo, we may find a solution of this problem, I think, in
one of his sonnets. He says, writing a poem belonging very probably to
the series which inspires Michelangelo the younger with alarm:--

_As one who will re-seek her home of light,
Thy form immortal to this prison-house
Descended, like an angel-piteous,
To heal all hearts and make the whole world bright,
'Tis this that thralls my soul in love's delight,
Not thy clear face of beauty glorious;
For he who harbours virtue still will choose
To love what neither years nor death can blight.
So fares it ever with things high and rare
Wrought in the sweat of nature; heaven above
Showers on their birth the blessings of her prime:
Nor hath God deigned to show Himself elsewhere
More clearly than in human forms sublime,
Which, since they image Him, alone I love._

It was not, then, to this or that young man, to this or that woman,
that Michelangelo paid homage, but to the eternal beauty revealed in
the mortal image of divinity before his eyes. The attitude of the
mind, the quality of passion, implied in these poems, and conveyed
more clumsily through the prose of t