This digression, though necessary for the right understanding of Michael Angelo’s relation to the Medici, has carried me beyond his Florentine residence in 1501-1505.  The great achievement of that period was not the “David” but the Cartoon for the “Battle of Pisa."[300] The hall of the Consiglio Grande had been opened, and one wall had been assigned to Lionardo.  Michael Angelo was now invited by the Signory to prepare a design for another side of the state-chamber.  When he displayed his cartoon to the Florentines, they pronounced that Da Vinci, hitherto the undisputed prince of painting, was surpassed.  It is impossible for us to form an opinion on this matter, since both cartoons are lost beyond recovery.[301] We only know that, as Cellini says, “while they lasted, they formed the school of the whole world,"[302] and made an epoch in the history of art.  When we inquire what was the subject of Michael Angelo’s famous picture, we find that he had aimed at representing nothing of more moment than a group of soldiers suddenly surprised by a trumpet-call to battle, while bathing in the Arno—­a crowd of naked men in every posture indicating haste, anxiety, and struggle.  Not for its intellectual meaning, not for its colour, not for its sentiment, was this design so highly prized.  Its science won the admiration of artists and the public.  At this period of the Renaissance the bold and perfect drawing of the body gave an exquisite delight.  Hence, perhaps, Vasari’s vapid talk about “stravaganti attitudini,” “divine figure,” “scorticamenti,” and so forth—­as if the soul of figurative art were in such matters.  The science of Michael Angelo, which in his own mind was sternly subordinated to thought, had already turned the weaker heads of his generation.[303] A false ideal took possession of the fancy, and such criticism as that of Vasari and Pietro Aretino became inevitable.

Meanwhile, a new Pope had been elected, and in 1505 Michael Angelo was once more called to Rome.  Throughout his artist’s life he oscillated thus between Rome and Florence—­Florence the city of his ancestry, and Rome the city of his soul; Florence where he learnt his art, and Rome where he displayed what art can do of highest.  Julius was a patron of different stamp from Lorenzo the Magnificent.  He was not learned in book-lore:  “Place a sword in my hand!” he said to the sculptor at Bologna:  “of letters I know nothing.”  Yet he was no less capable of discerning excellence than the Medici himself, and his spirit strove incessantly after the accomplishment of vast designs.  Between Julius and Michael Angelo there existed a strong bond of sympathy due to community of temperament.  Both aimed at colossal achievements in their respective fields of action.  The imagination of both was fired by large and simple, rather than luxurious and subtle thoughts.  Both were uomini terribili, to use a phrase denoting vigour of character made formidable by an abrupt uncompromising temper.  Both worked con furia, with the impetuosity of daemonic natures; and both left the impress of their individuality graven indelibly upon their age.