expression, and which centres in the sacristy of San Lorenzo, as the tradition of the Creation centres in the Sistine Chapel. It has been said that all the great Florentines were pre-occupied with death. Outre-tombe! Outre-tombe! is the burden of their thoughts, from Dante to Savonarola. Even the gay and licentious Boccaccio gives a keener edge to his stories by putting them in the mouths of a party of people who had taken refuge from the plague in a country-house. It was to this inherited sentiment, this practical decision that to be preoccupied with the thought of death was in itself dignifying, and a note of high quality, that the seriousness of the great Florentines of the fifteenth century was partly due; and it was reinforced in them by the actual sorrows of their times. How often, and in what various ways, had they seen life stricken down in their streets and houses. La bella Simonetta dies in early youth, and is borne to the grave with uncovered face. The young Cardinal of Portugal dies on a visit to Florence—insignis formâ fui et mirabili modestiâ, his epitaph dares to say; Rossellino carved his tomb in the church of San Miniato, with care for the shapely hands and feet and sacred attire; Luca della Robbia put his skyiest works there; and the tomb of the youthful and princely prelate became the strangest and most beautiful thing in that strange and beautiful place.
