fection. For ages it remained apparently the heir of immortality. The nations bowed submissively to its yoke. Then it began to decay, it tottered, it fell; it was not immortal.

Despair now seemed to gather around the artist, as he beheld the signal defeat of his cherished hopes. It was thenif I may be permitted to follow out the figure-that a beam of light from heaven flashed upon his soul and inspired his energies anew. Under the master-touches of genius another magnificent form was developed from the massive marble. The delicate beauty of the first creation combined with the lordly grandeur of the second. But the current of life leaping through the transparent veins, the eye kindled into the impassioned light of thought, and the countenance resplendent with the emotions of soul, all showed that the breath of immortality had waked the lifeless marble into deathless life. That was the ideal perfection, realizing the combination of beauty, power, immortality.

But to speak in plain terms, may not these figures be representatives of three grand experiments in human government, which either have been made or are now making in the world? In a certain sense all the experiments conducted among different nations, may be considered as modifications. of these three, Grecian Democracy, Roman Law, and Christian Republicanism. It is proposed to develope at some length each of these systems, considering them as steps of progression toward perfection in human government.

Democracy in its purest form was the prevailing system of government in Greece. In other countries the patriarchal rule of families ripened into despotism, reducing the masses under the power of irresponsible men, But in Greece, from the very first, there was manifested a passion for popular freedom, which burnt brightly until quenched in blood by Roman power. Nor is it any well founded objection to this assertion, that such men as the thirty tyrants, Pericles, and Themistocles, exercised arbitrary power over the people; for "the thirty," by their horrid excesses during a single year, endeavoring to stifle the spirit of freedom, really added fuel to the flame, and

fanned it into incontrollable fury: whilst such men as Pericles and Themistocles perverted eloquence, the true child of freedom, to lull the people to peace, and then lead them to tyrannize over themselves.

But let us glance at the theory of a government occupying 2000 years in working out its appropriate results. Sixteen centuries elapsed in bringing this system to its acme. The democratic principle was diffused throughout Greece, but often manifested itself in outbursts of popular passion, at times threatening the very existence of the different tribes. Of course, at first, every thing was as rough as the block of marble just taken from the mountain, but every war, every insurrection, every revolution, every law enacted, tried and repealed, every step in the arts, science, and literature, were like the skilful strokes of a statuary. As age after age passed, democracy in theory assumed a beauty which can only be figured forth by the master works of their own sculptors. The Athenian government may be considered as the model of Grecian democracy, and he must indeed be destitute of enthusiasm, who has looked upon this without admiration. Their fleets and armies are led on to victory by men whom the people elected: if these commanders acted a noble part, from the people they received their richest reward, whilst the coward and the traitor were hurled headlong to ruin by the same potent sovereign. Had a citizen been wronged, he plead his cause before the people. Had high-handed crime been committed, the people pronounced the condemnation. Had the state suffered loss or insult, the people in full assembly weighed the wrong or insult, and denounced public vengeance. This was the great tribunal of the nation, the supreme arbiter, the fountain of law and power.

Nor was this assembly in its perfection the tumultuous rabble some have supposed. No indecent levity or trifling disgraced the deliberations of these popular governors, but all their assemblies were opened with solemn sacrifices to the gods, with invocations for wisdom and prudence to be communicated to every citizen. The rich did not overshadow

much as the

Nor did the

the poor, but the meanest citizen weighed as loftiest in the enactment of public decrees. youth forget to pay due respect to old age; all waited for the words of wisdom which might fall from the lips of their ancients. Indeed, in some respects, the Athenian Assembly might be held up as a model for some modern legislatures making far higher pretensions to decorum and dignity. The influence of this body in kindling suns of eloquence, whose brightness has astonished all succeeding ages, need not be mentioned, nor is it necessary to allude to the very defect, so far as the purposes of justice were concerned, exhibited in this fact. Suffice it to say that the very deformity, gross though it be when squared with justice, has added an imperishable grandeur to Grecian democracy. The potent energies of eloquence no doubt were perverted, but with all its perversions we mention admiringly the singular instrument which swayed the minds of multitudes, and gilds with bright rays the system which gave it birth.

And in glancing rapidly over this system, we must not omit the venerable tribunal of wisdom, the Areopagus. At first sight this may seem inconsistent with pure democracy, but really is not. For none but men who had discharged faithfully the duties of the Archonship could be admitted to membership in this court. The people elected the Archons, and for ten years must these officers, having reached a full maturity previous to election, discharge their high and responsible trust, as a probationary trial before admission into this august body. The nobility of the Areopagus may be inferred from a single fact. Pericles, a man of lofty genius, adding glory to his country's name by a series of brilliant public actions, and by a liberal patronage of art, science, and literature, rendering Athens illustrious to this day, was not able to secure admittance, because he had not discharged the preliminary duties, and obtained a character of unblemished probity. And it is the darkest stain on the fame of this remarkable man, that with all his munificent patronage of genius, he

sought to ruin the Areopagus, because he could not share the highest honor conferred on an Athenian.

It was in the hands of such men that the Athenian people intrusted the care of the public morals, of having the public decrees faithfully executed, and of judging in some criminal cases of a difficult and trying nature. No breathings of eloquence kindled the Areopagite's soul, except the eloquence of simple truth; no culprit's countenance, clothed with the woes of a saddened heart, in mute yet eloquent sorrow appealed to his pity and sympathy. In silence only disturbed by the brief testimony of the witness, and in darkness only relieved by the dim starlight of heaven, this magnificent court of ancient men uttered their authoritative decisions. A more impressive scene of judicial grandeur has never been witnessed on the earth. It will be readily perceived that such a tribunal, situated in the very centre of the democratic system, exerted a powerful influence in conducting Athens to the zenith of its prosperity.

The perfection of Grecian democracy was attained during the period embraced between the years 600 B. C. and 322 B. C., a period of 278 years. The boundaries of this period are the birth of Solon and the death of Demosthenes. Noble names in the arts, sciences, and in literature, preceded Solon and succeeded Demosthenes, but the bright constellations, bestudding the intellectual firmament and reverentially mentioned by the scholar, are found in the period specified. This was the age of Socrates, and Plato, and Aristotle, exhuming from the rich quarries of truth, thoughts exalted and immortal. This was the age of Hippocrates and Asclepiades, extorting from Nature her remedial secrets. This was the age of Herodotus, and Thucydides, and Xenophon, recording on imperishable tablets the achievements of nations, the glories of their rise, the fatalities of their fall. This was the age of Eschylus, and Sophocles, and Euripides, calling from the human soul its deep and pent-up emotions, by their sublime delineations of nature. This was the age of Zeuxis and

Parrhasius, the first duping the birds by his grapes painted so naturally, and the last deceiving Zeuxis himself by a picture apparently veiled with silk. This was the age of Philo and Scopas, and Phidias and Praxiteles and Ctesiphon, whose genius conceived and erected the Temple of Diana, the Acropolis with its Parthenon and Temple of Jupiter, and filled the Grecian cities with palaces and temples of the most gorgeous magnificence; whose genius wrought into lifelike perfection a thousand matchless statues of men and gods. This was the age of heroes in eloquence, when profligacy and corruption trembled before the consuming indignation of Demosthenes, when Pericles by this magic weapon swayed, for forty years, a despotic sceptre, when eloquence became so mighty as to madden the people to ostracise and slay the great and good, when it fired national indignation, and discharged terrible vengeance on its enemies.

Such was the period during which Grecian democracy reached its acme, when the genius of man placed upon it the delicate lineaments and exquisite polish of perfection. It was a superb statue chiseled into symmetry and beauty. It was the magnificent representative of life, and for a time it seemed incredible that such magnificence and beauty could be otherwise than immortal. But it was only a beautiful, lifeless image, unlike the fabled beauty which Pygmalion wrought from the rough marble, and which, at his impassioned prayer, the Goddess of Beauty inspired with life. No genial breath from Heaven gave this a beating heart, and bounding life-current, and in a short time it perished. The first great experiment in human government was completed in its fall.

Let us now trace out the second governmental experiment, Roman Law. This will be found to possess no less interest than the former, since it bears directly upon those grand evolutions in government, which it requires ages to perfect. With as much certainty, as the torchlight of history can give, we learn that about four hundred and fifty years were occupied in preparing the elements, which when combined constituted the Roman State. The Pelasgi from the southeast of Europe