spectator below was to see something forcible and impressive.  “The eyes,” he says, “are made as if they were dug out with a shovel:  eyes which would appear lifelike on the ground level would look blind high up on the Campanile, for distance consumes diligence—­la lontananza si mangia la diligenzia.”  The doctrine could not be better stated, and it governs the career of Donatello.  There is nothing like the Zuccone in Greek art:  nothing so ugly, nothing so wise.  Classical sculptors in statues destined for lofty situations preserved the absolute truth of form, but their diligence was consumed by distance.  What was true in the studio lost its truth on a lofty pediment or frieze.  They preserved accuracy of form, but they sacrificed accuracy of appearance; whereas relative truth was in reality far more important—­until, indeed, the time comes when the lights and shades of the studio are reproduced in some art gallery or museum.

[Footnote 26:  In Introduction to his translation of Tacitus.]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Alinari

ABRAHAM AND ISAAC

CAMPANILE, FLORENCE]

[Sidenote:  Abraham and the Sense of Proportion.]

The statue of Abraham and Isaac on the east side of the Campanile is interesting as being the first group made by Donatello.  The subject had already been treated by Brunellesco and Ghiberti in relief.  Donatello had to make his figures on a larger scale.  Abraham is a tall, powerful man with a long flowing beard, looking upwards as he receives the command to sheath the dagger already touching the shoulder of his son.  The naked boy is kneeling on his left leg and is modelled with a good deal of skill, though, broadly speaking, the treatment is rather archaic in character.  It is a tragic scene, in which the contrast of the inexorable father and the resigned son is admirably felt.  Donatello had to surmount a technical difficulty, that of putting two figures into a niche only intended for one.  His sense of proportion enabled him to make a group in harmony with its position and environment.  It fits the niche.  Statues are so often unsuited to their niches; scores of examples could be quoted from Milan Cathedral alone where the figures are too big or too small, or where the base slopes downwards and thus fails to give adequate support to the figure.  There is an old tradition which illustrates Donatello’s aptitude for grouping.  Nanni di Banco had to put four martyrs into a niche of Or San Michele, and having made his statues found it impossible to get them in.  Donatello was invoked, and by removing a superfluous bit of marble here, and knocking off an arm there, the four figures were successfully grouped together.  The statues, it must be admitted, show no signs of such usage, and Nanni was a competent person:  but the story would not have been invented unless Donatello