retribution was close at hand. While besieging Maximilian Sforza in one of his forts, the hardships of the siege, combined perhaps with the mental struggle through which he had passed, threw him into a fever, which was soon pronounced incurable. His wife hastened to see him for the last time; but she was too late. The fatal news reached her at Viterbo. The Marquis died Nov. 4, 1525.

The man who could retain the devoted love of such a wife, who had known him intimately from his very childhood, would naturally be supposed endowed with noble and generous qualities, and a warm and honorable nature. Vittoria certainly found all these qualities in him; but how far they were the creation of her own loyal and loving nature, it is difficult to say. Italian authorities represent him "as singularly haughty, reserved, and insincere;" but, as he was considered almost as a Spaniard, national feeling may have imbittered their prejudices.

Overwhelmed with grief, the Marchioness de Pescara would gladly have followed her husband from that world which was now left so desolate; but her religion forbade a voluntary death, and she sought its nearest approach in seclusion in a cloister. For this purpose she took refuge in the monastery of St. Sylvester, under the protection of the Colonna family, intending to take the veil as soon as possible. But Clement VII. interposed his fatherly interdict, and forbade the Sisters to give her the indissoluble vow. After the first agony of grief had passed, she began to find occupation in the employment of her pen, and in the composition of those sonnets in which she fondly hoped to embalm the memory of her idol. Having returned to Naples, she received many offers of a second marriage; but to all she replied, "that the sun of her life, though others esteemed him dead, was always living for her."

Leaving for the present the consideration of three of the most interesting phases of her life, her religious experience, her poetic productions, and her relation to Michael Angelo, we will briefly sketch the remaining incidents of her outward existence. Most of her time was spent in the

solitude of Ischia, engaged in the composition of her poems, in correspondence with her friends, or in affording consolation or instruction to those who sought her aid. Among her distinguished literary friends were especially Bernardo Tasso, father of the greater poet; Lodovico Martelli; and the famous Ariosto, who devoted six flattering octaves to her praise. She occasionally visited Rome, to enjoy the society of Michael Angelo and other friends, where she was always welcomed with distinguished attention. But the public troubles of the times now added new poignancy to her private grief. In 1526, the Colonna family were banished, their goods confiscated, and their name put under a ban. Vittoria strove to shield them, but in vain. Her religious enthusiasm became more intense; and her sacred poems made her almost an object of adoration throughout Italy: Charles V. himself turned aside from his triumphal course to visit her.

At one time she proposed a pilgrimage to the Holy City; but her adopted son, the Marquis del Vasto, dissuaded her from a journey which was deemed dangerous in her state of health. She visited with him the ancient monuments of the Eternal City; and it is recorded that all the literati and artists of Rome accompanied her in these expeditions. Her health continued to fail, and she is said to have been a prey to attacks of morbid melancholy. She tried the remedy of travelling. Leaving Rome in 1537, after a short pause at Lucca, she went to Ferrara, where she was warmly welcomed by the duke, who invited all the most distinguished writers of Venice and Lombardy to meet her. But neither change of place, nor increased admiration, brought health and peace; and, in 1541, she withdrew into the monastery of Orvieto. She remained here for a few months, and then left for the convent of St. Catharine, where her life became a model of Christian perfection. Here she remained about six years, devoting her time to religious duties and sacred composi tions, and visiting Rome occasionally, to enjoy her friends' society. Earth had one more trial for her in the loss of her adopted son, the Marquis del Vasto, who perished in an unfortunate expedition to Africa. She felt this loss deeply, but

suffered no complaint to escape her. It was soon known over Italy that her health was rapidly declining; and public prayers were offered for her, as for a sovereign. Physicians announced that "only God could cure her." In the year 1547, she was removed from her convent to Rome, to the house of her cousin Giulia Colonna, the only one of her family whom the conscription had not reached. Her devoted friend Michael Angelo was constantly with her, consoling her by his friendship and encouraging her by his strength. She died on the 15th of February. Towards evening, Michael Angelo perceived an increased pallor. "I am dying," she said; "help me to recite my last prayer: I remember it no longer." One last look at her friend, one last smile, and her soul passed quietly on its upward way.

Thus, at the age of fifty-seven, closed the mortal life of this rare woman, so beautiful, so gifted, so loving, so beloved. By her own desire, she was quietly buried in the convent of St. Ann. In her, we find one of the rarest and richest types of womanhood. Beauty of person, sweetness of disposition, exalted character, religious depth of feeling, passionate love, superior intellect, refined culture, are all so harmoniously blended, that we can scarcely cite one quality as more characteristic of her, than another. But if there is one word which, in the course of our narrative, we have felt tempted to use most often, it is loyal. Fidelity seems to have been the key-note of her moral nature, a firm adherence to that to which she had once given herself, to her God, to her country, to her early betrothed, to her friends, to her principles. She was true, in spite of every temptation; or, rather, she scarcely felt any opposing claim. This virtue, which man too often arrogates to himself, was the basis of all the beauty and charm of the most exquisitely feminine nature of which history gives us the record.

The Marchioness of Pescara fondly believed, that this would be her proudest title, wife of the greatest captain of the age. If she valued her poetic fame, it was as the means of preserving and adorning this beloved name. But posterity forgets this name and title in the dearer phrase, "Vittoria

Colonna, the friend and comforter, the joy and inspiration, of Michael Angelo!" It is hard to do justice to the exceeding glory and beauty of this relation. Here we behold the greatest man of his country, who towers above all others, as much in moral as in intellectual greatness, and its most accomplished and saintly woman, bound together, not by a tie of passionate love, but in a relation so sacred and holy, so lofty and pure, so tender and sweet, that it seems as if it might last unchanged through all the ages of eternity. They exchange the deepest thoughts on the highest spiritual themes; yet never is the aroma of chivalry, the beautiful devotion of one sex to another, forgotten. This star, that rose on her night of sorrow, never tainted her soul with disloyalty to the beautiful sun which had brightened and warmed her day; and she chided him, if in her he forgot any thing that was due to his sterner and harder life elsewhere. If we grant to the Marquis of Pescara the reputation of goodness and nobility, because she gave to him the passionate love of a young girl's heart, shall we believe that in maturer life this loving woman bestowed her esteem and reverence on the morose, jealous, selfish being, whom some would have us believe to have been her chosen friend?

Their acquaintance commenced at Rome during her youth, but ripened into greater intimacy on her return thither after her husband's death. We see no reason for believing, that he ever desired any other relation to her than the full and confiding friendship which she gave him. His language, after her husband's death as before, is lofty, calm, removed from all vain thoughts. Vasari says, " But he sent an infinite number of his poems, and received replies in prose and verse from the illustrious Marchioness de Pescara, of whose virtue Michael Angelo was enamored, and she equally of him; and she often went from Viterbo to Rome to visit him, and Michael Angelo designed for her a Piety in the lap of Our Lady, with two little angels, -a most wonderful thing; and a Christ fixed on the cross, who, having raised his head, commends his soul to the Father, a divine thing; besides a Christ with the Samaritan at the well." These designs are

But

indicative of their topics of thought and sympathy. she knew well that even the pure relation of friendship may become too engrossing; and she writes to him, that if "they should continue it with so much ardor, she should fail to spend her evening with the Sisters in the chapel of St. Catherine, and he to go early to his work at St. Peter's: and thus one would be wanting in duty to the spouse of Christ, and the other to his Vicar." Her French biographer says that she "never replied to Michael Angelo in verse." Whether from excess of modesty, or because her pen was first consecrated to her husband and afterwards to sacred themes, we know not; but Vasari thinks otherwise, and expressly says that "she sent him many things in prose and verse." His sonnets to her, so celebrated for their beauty and depth of feeling, may be found translated in Harford's "Life of Michael Angelo."

It is clear that Vittoria Colonna was interested in the preaching of Savonarola; and still more in that of Ochino, one of the most zealous and determined of the Italian Reformers. She is constantly referred to as the friend and companion of Flaminio and Valdez, also noted for their desire to reform the Catholic Church. Meetings were held at her house to discuss the points at issue. Cardinal Pole was also her intimate friend, and he too had leanings towards the side of reformation. But it is certain that she never went the full length of separating herself from the communion of the Catholic Church. It would have been a very hard step for one of her tenacious and loyal nature to adopt, even without the fear of outward dangers; and probably her spiritual advisers well knew how to work on a conscience so sensitive, and an imagination so vivid, as hers. "Ochino, on quitting Italy, published a letter, addressed to his friends and followers, explaining the grounds of his secession, and sent a copy of it to Vittoria Colonna." By the advice of Cardinal Pole, she sent this letter to Cardinal Cervini. She wrote also a letter to him, in which she says "that Ochino accuses himself the more, the more he endeavors to excuse his conduct; and the more he believes he shall save others from shipwreck, the