Among the many other works that have been claimed for Praxiteles on grounds of style, I venture to single out one (Fig. 156).  The illustration is taken from one of several copies of a lost original, which, if it was not by Praxiteles himself, was by some one who had marvelously caught his spirit.  That it represents the goddess Artemis we may probably infer from the short chiton, an appropriate garment often worn by the divine huntress, but not by human maidens.  Otherwise the goddess has no conventional attribute to mark her divinity.  She is just a beautiful girl, engaged in fastening her mantle together with a brooch.  In this way of conceiving a goddess, we see the same spirit that created the Apollo Sauroctonos.

The genius of Praxiteles, as thus far revealed to us, was preeminently sunny, drawn toward what is fair and graceful and untroubled, and ignoring what is tragic in human existence.  This view of him is confirmed by what is known from literature of his subjects.  The list includes five figures of Aphrodite, three or four of Eros, two of Apollo, two of Artemis, two of Dionysus, two or three of satyrs, two of the courtesan Phryne, and one of a beautiful human youth binding a fillet about his hair, but no work whose theme is suffering or death is definitely ascribed to him.  It is strange therefore to find Pliny saying that it was a matter of doubt in his time whether a group of the dying children of Niobe which stood in a temple of Apollo in Rome was by Scopas or Praxiteles.  It is commonly supposed, though without decisive proof, that certain statues of Niobe and her children which exist in Florence and elsewhere are copied from the group of which Pliny speaks.  The story was that Niobe vaunted herself before Leto because she had seven sons and seven daughters, while Leto had borne only Apollo and Artemis.  For her presumption all her children were stricken down by the arrows of Apollo and Artemis.  This punishment is the subject of the group.  Fig. 157 gives the central figures; they are Niobe herself and her youngest daughter, who has fled to her for protection.  The Niobe has long been famous as an embodiment of haughtiness, maternal love, and sharp distress.  But much finer in composition, to my thinking, is Fig. 158.  In this son of Niobe the end of the right arm and the entire left arm are modern.  Originally this youth was grouped with a sister who has been wounded unto death.  She has sunk upon the ground and her right arm hangs limply over his left knee, thus preventing his garment from falling.  His left arm clasps her and he seeks ineffectually to protect her.  That this is the true restoration is known from a copy in the Vatican of the wounded girl with a part of the brother.  Except for this son of Niobe the Florentine figures are not worthy of their old-time reputation.  As for their authorship, Praxiteles seems out of the question.  The subject is in keeping—­with the genius of Scopas, but it is safer not to associate the group with any individual name.