Most of the writers on Greek art agree in calling the Hellenistic period an age of decadence. The period is a long one, lasting from the death of Alexander to the Roman absorption of the Hellenistic kingdoms, i.e. from about 320 to later than 100 B.C. The lowest limit is marked by the Laocoon group, and the fact that some critics have seen in that wonderful monument the climax of Greek art may make us pause in a hasty generalization. The decadence of the Hellenistic age is due simply to its exaggeration of certain tendencies already present in the fourth century, tendencies which accompany the inevitable development of all art gradually away from the ideal and gradually closer to realistic imitation of nature. As long as the technical skill of the Hellenistic artist shows no sign of abating, it is unfair and untrue to call his work decadent. The term is only justly applicable when loss of idealism or growth of frivolity in subject is accompanied by a decline in execution, by a want of thoroughness, and by a desire to shirk difficulties. It is true to say that Greek art on the mainland enters on a period of decadence in the third century, for its execution and expression grow steadily worse after 250 B.C., but it is interesting to note that it reverts to a greater idealism. The last great artist of the mainland, Damophon of Messene, might have been a member of the school of Pheidias save for an inadequate mastery of the chisel. On the other hand, the schools of Pergamon, Alexandria, and Rhodes show no falling off in technical skill as long as they remain independent of Rome. Even their idealism does not wholly decline, for the Gallic victories of Attalos and Eumenes brought about an idealist revival in Pergamene art associated with the decoration of the great altar. Rhodes remained ever wedded to the athletic ideal. Alexandria delighted most in scenes of _genre_ and realistic imitations of nature. But all turned out work of marvellous quality, and it is mainly a vagary of fashion in criticism that now induces so many authorities to label as decadent wonderful masterpieces of sculpture like the Victory of Samothrace, the kneeling boy of Subiaco, or the Silenos with the young Dionysos. Works so full of human nature and so rich in sympathy may well claim to replace by their romantic appeal the classical feeling of the fifth century. It is only when romance becomes sentimentality that it meets with just condemnation.