sterpiece of Michelangelo's best years, I shall have to speak later
on.

The architectural plan and the surface decoration of this lower half
are conceived in a style belonging to the earlier Italian Renaissance.
Arabesques and masks and foliated patterns adorn the flat slabs. The
recess of each niche is arched with a concave shell. The terminal
busts are boldly modelled, and impose upon the eye. The whole is rich
in detail, and, though somewhat arid in fanciful invention, it carries
us back to the tradition of Florentine work by Mino da Fiesole and
Desiderio da Settignano.

When we ascend to the upper portion, we seem to have passed, as indeed
we do pass, into the region of the new manner created by Michelangelo
at S. Lorenzo. The orders of the pilasters are immensely tall in
proportion to the spaces they enclose. Two of these spaces, those on
the left and right side, are filled in above with meaningless
rectangular recesses, while seated statues occupy less than a whole
half in altitude of the niches. The architectural design is
nondescript, corresponding to no recognised style, unless it be a
bastard Roman Doric. There is absolutely no decorative element except
four shallow masks beneath the abaci of the pilasters. All is cold and
broad and dry, contrasting strangely with the accumulated details of
the lower portion. In the central niche, immediately above the Moses,
stands a Madonna of fine sculptural quality, beneath a shallow arch,
which repeats the shell-pattern. At her feet lies the extended figure
of Pope Julius II., crowned with the tiara, raising himself in a
half-recumbent attitude upon his right arm.

Of the statues in the upper portion, by far the finest in artistic
merit is the Madonna. This dignified and gracious lady, holding the
Divine Child in her arms, must be reckoned among Buonarroti's triumphs
in dealing with the female form. There is more of softness and
sweetness here than in the Madonna of the Medicean sacristy, while the
infant playing with a captured bird is full of grace. Michelangelo
left little in this group for the chisel of Montelupo to deform by
alteration. The seated female, a Sibyl, on the left, bears equally the
stamp of his design. Executed by himself, this would have been a
masterpiece for grandeur of line and dignified repose. As it is, the
style, while seeming to aim at breadth, remains frigid and formal. The
so-called Prophet on the other side counts among the signal failures