t erected to his
memory in the eighteenth century. And then here too you find the
beautiful tomb of Leonardo Bruni, one of the first great scholars of the
modern world, and secretary to the Republic, who died in 1443. It is the
masterpiece of Bernardo Rossellino (1409-1464), achieved at the end of
the early Renaissance, and forming the very style of such things for
those sculptors who came after him. It is true that the lunette of
Madonna is a little feeble and without life, though some have given it
falsely to Verrocchio, and the two angioloni bearing the arms have
little force; but the tomb itself is a thing done once and for all, and
the figure of the dead poet is certainly the masterpiece of a man who
was perhaps the first sculptor in marble of his time. If we compare it
for a moment with the lovely Annunciation of Donatello (1386-1466) on
the other side of the gateway, where for once that strong and fearless
artist seems to have contented himself with beauty, we shall understand
better the achievement of Rossellino; and though it were difficult to
imagine a more lovely thing than that Annunciation set there by the
Cavalcanti, with the winged wreath of Victory beneath it to commemorate
their part in the victory of Florence over Pisa in 1406, as a piece of
architecture Rossellino's work is as much better than this earlier
design of Donatello's as in every other respect his work falls below it.
Covered with all sorts of lovely ornament, the frame supports an
elaborate and splendid cornice on which six children stand, three
grouped on either side, playing with garlands. And within the frame, as
though seen through some magic doorway, Madonna, about to leave her
prayers, has been stopped by the message of the angel, who has not yet
fallen on his knees. It is as though one had come upon the very scene
itself suddenly at sunset on some summer day.

If the tomb of Leonardo Bruni is the masterpiece of Bernardo Rossellino,
the tomb of Carlo Marsuppini, the humanist, Bruni's successor as
secretary to the Republic, placed in the north aisle exactly opposite,
is no less the masterpiece of another of Donatello's friends, Desiderio
da Settignano (1428-1464). Standing as they were to do, face to face
across the church, no doubt Desiderio was instructed to follow as
closely as might be the general design of Rossellino. On a rich bed
Marsuppini lies, a figure full of sweetness and strength, while under is
the carved tomb, supported