expenditure.  He was a man who abhorred jobs and corruption.  A letter written near the close of his life, when he was dealing only with persons nominated by himself, proves this.  He addressed the Superintendents of the Fabric of S. Peter’s as follows:  “You know that I told Balduccio not to send his lime unless it were good.  He has sent bad quality, and does not seem to think he will be forced to take it back; which proves that he is in collusion with the person who accepted it.  This gives great encouragement to the men I have dismissed for similar transactions.  One who accepts bad goods needed for the fabric, when I have forbidden them, is doing nothing else but making friends of people whom I have turned into enemies against myself.  I believe there will be a new conspiracy.  Promises, fees, presents, corrupt justice.  Therefore I beg you from this time forward, by the authority I hold from the Pope, not to accept anything which is not suitable, even though it comes to you from heaven.  I must not be made to appear, what I am not, partial in my dealings.”  This fiery despatch, indicating not only Michelangelo’s probity, but also his attention to minute details at the advanced age of eighty-six, makes it evident that he must have been a stern overseer in the first years of his office, terrible to the “sect of Sangallo,” who were bent, on their part, to discredit him.

The sect began to plot and form conspiracies, feeling the violent old man’s bit and bridle on their mouths, and seeing the firm seat he took upon the saddle.  For some reason, which is not apparent, they had the Superintendents of the Fabric (a committee, including cardinals, appointed by the Pope) on their side.  Probably these officials, accustomed to Sangallo and the previous course of things, disliked to be stirred up and sent about their business by the masterful new-comer.  Michelangelo’s support lay, as we shall see, in the four Popes who followed Paul III.  They, with the doubtful exception of Marcellus II., accepted him on trust as a thoroughly honest servant, and the only artist capable of conducting the great work to its conclusion.  In the last resort, when he was driven to bay, he offered to resign, and was invariably coaxed back by the final arbiter.  The disinterested spirit in which he fulfilled his duties, accepting no pay while he gave his time and energy to their performance, stood him in good stead.  Nothing speaks better for his perfect probity than that his enemies were unable to bring the slightest charge of peculation or of partiality against him.  Michelangelo’s conduct of affairs at S. Peter’s reflects a splendid light upon the tenor of his life, and confutes those detractors who have accused him of avarice.