The history of Greek sculpture covers a period of some eight or nine hundred years, and falls into five divisions. [1] The first is the period of development, extending from 600 to 480 B. C. The second is the period of greatest achievement, under Phidias and his followers, in the Age of Pericles, 480-430 B. C. The third is the period of Praxiteles and Scopas, in the fourth century. The fourth is the period of decline, characterized as the Hellenistic Age, and included between the years 320 and 100 B. C. The fifth is the GrÆco-Roman period, which includes the work produced to meet the demand of the Roman market for Greek sculpture, and which extends to 300 A. D.

Modern criticism differentiates sharply the characteristics of the several periods and even of the individual artists, but such subtleties are beyond the grasp of the unlearned. The majority of people continue to regard Greek sculpture in its entirety, as if it were the homogeneous product of a single age. To the popular imagination it is as if some gigantic machine turned out the Apollo Belvedere, the Venus of Milo, the Elgin Marbles, and all the rest, in a single day. Nor is it long ago since even eminent writers had but vague ideas as to the distinctive periods of these very works. Certain it is that all works of Greek sculpture have a particular character which marks them as such. Authorities have taught us to distinguish some few of their leading characteristics.

The most striking characteristic of Greek art is perhaps its closeness to nature. The sculptor showed an intimate knowledge of the human form, acquired by constant observation of the splendid specimens of manhood produced in the palÆstra. It is because the artist "clung to nature as a kind mother," says Waldstein, that the influence of his work persists through the ages.

Again, Greek art is distinctly an art of generalization, dealing with types rather than with individuals. This characteristic is of varying degrees in different periods and with different sculptors. It is seen in its perfection in the Elgin Marbles, in exaggeration in the Apollo Belvedere, and at the minimum in the work of Praxiteles. Yet it is everywhere sufficiently marked to be indissolubly connected with Greek sculpture.

The quality of repose, so constantly associated with Greek sculpture, is another characteristic which varies with the period and the individual sculptor. Between the calm dignity of the portrait statue of Sophocles and the intense muscular concentration of Myron's Discobolus, a long range of degrees may be included. Yet on the whole, repose is an essential characteristic of the best Greek sculpture, provided we do not let our notion of repose exclude the spirited element. Fine as is the effect of repose in the Parthenon frieze, the composition is likewise full of spirit and life.

A distinguishing characteristic of the best Greek sculpture is its simplicity. Compared with the Gothic sculptors, the Greeks appear to us, in Ruskin's phrase, as the "masters of all that was grand, simple, wise and tenderly human, opposed to the pettiness of the toys of the rest of mankind." Their work is free from that "vain and mean decoration"—the "weak and monstrous error"—which disfigures the art of other peoples.

As we turn from one Greek marble to another in the great sculpture galleries of the world, the best features of the art impress themselves deeply even upon the untutored eye. The Greek instinct for pose is unfailing and unsurpassable. Standing or seated, the attitude is always graceful, the lines are always fine. The best statues are equally well composed, viewed from any standpoint. The camera may describe a circumference about a marble as a centre, and a photograph made at any point in the circle will show lines of rhythm and beauty.

The faultless regularity of the Greek profile has passed into history as the accepted standard of human beauty. The straight continuous line of brow and nose, the well moulded chin, the full lip, the small ear, satisfy perfectly our Æsthetic ideals.

The art of sculpture was an essential outgrowth of the Greek spirit, and perfectly suited the requirements of Greek thought. In the words of a recent writer, "it was the consummate expression in art of the genius of a nation which worshiped physical perfection as the gift of the immortals, which honored the gods by athletic games and choral dances, and whose deities wore the flesh and shared the nature of men."[2] It was moreover a national art, entering into every phase of public life, and embodying the Greek sense of national greatness.

Greek sculpture can be sympathetically understood only by catching something of the spirit which produced it. One must shake off the centuries and regard life with the childlike simplicity of the young world: one must give imagination free rein. The same attitude of mind which can enjoy Greek mythology and Greek literature is the proper attitude for the enjoyment of Greek sculpture. The best interpreter of a nation's art is the nation's poetry.