ty is that of delicate proportions and
soft tones. The cantoria is in the left aisle, in its original place;
the two bronze pulpits are in the nave. These have a double interest
as being not only Donatello's work but his latest work. They were
incomplete at his death, and were finished by his pupil Bertoldo
(1410-1491), and since, as we shall see, Bertoldo became the master of
Michelangelo, when he was a lad of fifteen and Bertoldo an old man of
eighty, these pulpits may be said to form a link between the two great
S. Lorenzo sculptors. How fine and free and spirited Bertoldo could
be, alone, we shall see at the Bargello. The S. Lorenzo pulpits are
very difficult to study: nothing wants a stronger light than a bronze
relief, and in Florence students of bronze reliefs are accustomed
to it, since the most famous of all--the Ghiberti doors--are in the
open air. Only in course of time can one discern the scenes here. The
left pulpit is the finer, for it contains the "Crucifixion" and the
"Deposition," which to me form the most striking of the panels.

The other piece of sculpture in the church itself is a ciborium
by Desiderio da Settignano, in the chapel at the end of the
right transept--an exquisite work by this rare and playful and
distinguished hand. It is fitting that Desiderio should be here, for
he was Donatello's favourite pupil. The S. Lorenzo ciborium is wholly
charming, although there is a "Deposition" upon it; the little Boy is
adorable; but one sees it with the greatest difficulty owing to the
crowded state of the altar and the dim light. The altar picture in
the Martelli chapel, where the sympathetic Donatello monument (in the
same medium as his "Annunciation" at S. Croce) is found--on the way to
the Library--is by Lippo Lippi, and is notable for the pretty Virgin
receiving the angel's news. There is nice colour in the predella.

As I have said in the first chapter, we are too prone to ignore the
architect. We look at the jewels and forget the casket. Brunelleschi is
a far greater maker of Florence than either Donatello or Michelangelo;
but one thinks of him rather as an abstraction than a man or forgets
him altogether. Yet the S. Lorenzo sacristy is one of the few perfect
things in the world. What most people, however, remember is its tombs,
its doors, and its reliefs; the proportions escape them. I think its
shallow easy dome beyond description beautiful. Brunelleschi, who had
an investigating genius, himse