The religious views of Michael Angelo were very broad, and he had a trustful and obedient dependence upon God, in whose mercy and love he gratefully rested with the simple faith of a child. It was not far from the time when his father died that Michael Angelo first met Vittoria Colonna. He was now more than sixty years old; and though his poems show that he had loved children and women all his life, yet he had allowed himself no attachments; his life had been lonely and alone. Now, at this late hour, he yielded his heart to this beautiful, gifted woman, who returned his friendship with the fullest esteem. During these years he was happier than he had ever been. But in 1541 she fell under the suspicion of the Inquisition, and was obliged to leave Rome. During two years they wrote constantly to each other, and each sent to the other the sonnets they wrote. At this time all Italy read the poems of Vittoria, and those of Michael Angelo still stand the test of time. In them he shows the blessed effect of her influence over him. At length she returned to Rome and entered a convent, where she died in 1547. Michael Angelo was with her to the last, and years later he declared that he regretted nothing so much as that he had only kissed her hand, and not her forehead or cheeks in that last hour. His loss was far too great to be told. (An engraving of a portrait of Michael Angelo can be seen in Mrs. Clement's "Painting," p. 95.) In the year following Vittoria's death all the hopes which he had cherished for the freedom of Florence were crushed. High honors were offered him to induce him to return there, but he would not go. His health failed, his sadness increased, and his writings show how constantly he mourned for Vittoria. After this he did much work as an architect, and held the post of director of the building of St. Peter's. He superintended the erection of the statue of Marcus Aurelius, and completed the Farnese Palace, and had many improvements in mind. Now, in his old age, he was authority itself in Rome. He had no rival, and his advice was sought by artists as well as others. He lived very simply: he dined alone, and received his visitors in the plainest manner. Anatomy, which had always been a passion with him, was now his chief pursuit. He made many dissections of animals, and was grateful when a human subject could be allowed him. When he could not sleep he would get up at night and work upon the group of which we have spoken; he had a cap with a candle in it, so that it cast a light upon his work. Vasari once entered when he was at work upon this group, and had a lantern in his hand; he dropped it purposely, so that the sculpture should not be seen, and said: "I am so old that death often pulls me by the coat to come to him, and some day I shall fall down like this lantern, and my last spark of life will be extinguished."