In a psychological state like this both the artist and the public are bound to regard art with very different eyes. The Greeks could have tolerated experimental frivolity or chicanery in art as little as we should tolerate the travesty of a religious service. Therefore they admitted dogma in art, as we admit dogma in religion. We lightly overthrow all established artistic principles to introduce a new temporary fad. To the Greek such an idea was equivalent to sacrilege. This accounts very largely for the slow development of Greek art and its great reluctance to admit new principles. It could never become purely experimental or adventurous. Until the end of the fifth century this driving-force of the religious connexion is paramount in all Greek art. In the fourth century and the Hellenistic age the connexion of art and religion is shaken, but if religion passes away, the passionate devotion to art takes its place, and art itself becomes almost a religion. The stories of the great painters and of the intense love of whole communities for their works of art can be parallelled perhaps in some of the states of the Renaissance, but they have assuredly no parallel in Roman or in modern times. Our whole attitude towards art as an ‘extra’ and an unessential prevents us from appreciating its vital importance to the Greek. A community, whose ideas of art are Hellenic, knows no abrupt distinctions between the useful and the beautiful, because all the objects of its daily life are beautiful of necessity; it knows nothing of good taste, because there is no bad taste to contrast, and we may even find, as in the case of Greece herself, that its words for ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are simply ‘beautiful’ and ‘ugly’ (καλός and αἰσχρός).