When the gods who were represented were more like human beings in their character, it followed that the statues of them more nearly resembled men and women, and gradually the old grandeur and sublimity were changed to grace, beauty, and mirth. Many people would prefer these works because they come nearer to the every-day life of the world; but earnest, thoughtful minds look for something more noble in art--something that will not come down to us as we are, but will help us to rise above ourselves and to strive after better things.
CEPHISODOTUS was a sculptor who lived until about B.C. 385, or a little later, and stood between the old and the new schools of Greek art. The cut given here is from a group at Munich, which is believed to be a copy of a work by him, and it is a combination of the simple dignity of the art of Phidias (which is seen in the flowing drapery and the wavy edge of its folds) and the later Attic style (which is seen in the dreamy, gentle air of the face of the nurse of the little god). (Fig. 39.) We know very little of the life of Cephisodotus, and as little is said of his works by ancient writers.
[Illustration: FIG. 39.--EIRENE AND THE YOUNG PLUTUS. _Cephisodotus._]
SCOPAS of Paros was one of the greatest sculptors of the later Attic school. The island of Paros, where he was born, was the place where the finest Greek marble was found; but he worked so much at Athens that he is spoken of as an Athenian. He was an architect as well as a sculptor, and he superintended the erection of some splendid structures, which he also ornamented with his sculptures. I shall speak especially of the tomb of Mausolus, the King of Caria. Scopas executed the sculptures of the east side, and as he was the best artist of the sculptors employed there, it is probable that he had much to do with the design for all the work. This mausoleum was reckoned as one of the "seven wonders of the world," and has given a name to fine tombs the world over.
The most interesting of the sculptures from this tomb which are now in the British Museum seems to me to be the statue of Mausolus himself. It is plainly intended to be an exact portrait of the king, and it is so designed and executed that we feel sure it must show him to us just as he was when alive, more than twenty-two hundred years ago (Fig. 40).