expresses the ideas generally entertained of their origin. "Some drops of rain, distilled from the ends of the rafters that projected over an architrave, so pleased one architect, that he added them as permanent ornaments to his Doric triglyph; a few rams' horns, suspended from the top of a pillar, so struck the imagination of another, that he formed out of them the new combination, since called the Ionic capital, but which, in ancient buildings, is often united to the Doric entablature; and a wild acanthus, accidentally lodged on the top of an ancient sepulchral cippus, and with its foliage embracing a basket placed on the pillar, and compelled to curl down by the tile that covered the basket, so charmed a third, (Callimachus of Corinth,) that, without altering essentially the other parts of the Ionic combination, he substituted it as a new capital."*

The following remarks by the same author, characterize, and successfully account for, some other peculiarities of the Grecian architecture. "We must remember, in the states of Greece, every citizen shared, by right, alike, both in the public debate, and in the public diversion; entered alike, by right, both the market and theatre; and, consequently, notwithstanding the smallness of these states, the numbers that flocked to those places, and were to be accommodated in them, greatly exceeded that which, in

*Hope on Architecture, p. 34. [Though several of the terms of art employed in the above quotation may be found in good dictionaries, it may yet be convenient to many readers to see the explanations of all of them at one view. Architrave is the lowest member of the entablature; and entablature is the whole assemblage of members supported by the columns; the architrave, therefore, rests immediately on the columns. Triglyph is the bundle of channels or flutings in the frieze, or central portion of the Doric entablature. The little ornaments under the triglyph are still called guttæ, or drops. The distinctive ornament of the Ionic capital, called the volute, curls spirally like a ram's horn. Acanthus, from a Greek word meaning a thorn, is a plant with long, deeply indented, and spinous leaves, which are imitated in the foliage of the Corinthian capital. The story alluded to, is, that a woman had left a basket, covered with a tile, on a stone or pillar, by the side of which an acanthus was growing, which beautifully shrouded the basket, and meeting with the tile, curled its leaves gracefully downwards. Callimachus was struck with this combination, on seeing it accidentally, and adopted it as the capital of a new order of architecture. Cippus is a small, low pillar, serving either as a grave-stone, or to mark the limits of a larger sepulchre, or place of burial.-AM. ED.]

our larger states, need to be admitted into similar edifices. As in these, one half could not, as in the temple, be detained outside, while the other was admitted within, these buildings or places, necessarily made of immense capacity, were as necessarily left uncovered.

"Still, in a country where natural organization, acquired habits, religion, polity, and every other accessory, led to the fullest developement of the imitative arts,—to all that sculpture or painting could exhibit of the most fascinating combinations,-public edifices, whether destined for religious or other purposes, for business or pleasure; whether temples or porticoes, theatres or stadia, were decorated, even in the exposed parts, with profusion the more unbounded, because the clear atmosphere exhibited the full beauty, and the mild temperature insured the complete preservation of works of art."

It is remarkable, that the private habitations of the Grecians were, externally at least, as plain and unostentatious, as their public edifices were magnificent and tasteful. This has been justly attributed to the democratic organization of their government. The people were peculiarly sensitive and jealous, with respect to every thing which might appear to be a display of personal preeminence. While the place of worship or debate, therefore, which was the property of all, exhibited, on every side, the utmost perfection of elegance and grandeur, the private building only showed a mere blank surface; and, "like a temple inverted, possessed not external columns surrounding a solid body, but enclosed its pillars within its exterior walls."

"But that very circumstance," adds the author quoted above, "produced greater magnificence of public edifices. The citizen, unable to give vent to his pride, in his private habitation, only sought the more to gratify it, in the constructions destined to purposes of public magnificence or utility. These latter remained less confounded with,soared the more over the former. They attained, in greater number, that size of parts, that splendor of decoration, that has made them the wonder of all succeeding ages. Thus it was that, at Athens, the Temple of Jupiter Olympius was adorned externally with two rows of columns

of Pentelic marble, of the Corinthian order; consequently of the utmost height, in proportion to their diameter, which, at their base, exceeded six feet and a half."*

The period between Pericles and Alexander seems to have been the most flourishing era of Greek architecture. That people never departed from the style which originated with them, and which hence received the distinctive name of Grecian. It presented, through all its stages, a strict conformity to the essential elements of the wooden hut which formed its earliest model. It is curious to observe to what extent the correct and elegant taste of this remarkable nation has influenced the architecture of subsequent ages. An inferior mind may perceive and imitate the beautiful; it requires native genius to invent and embody it.

ELEVENTH WEEK-SUNDAY.†

[ALL EARTHLY THINGS ARE INCONSTANT AND TRANSITORY.

As time itself is in a perpetual succession and mutation, being the companion of motion, so it fixes this ill condition unto most of those things which pass along in it; the which not only have an end, and that a short one, but even, during the shortness of time which they last, have a thousand changes; and before their ends, many ends; and before their deaths, many deaths; each particular change, which our life suffers, being the death of some estate, or part of it. For as death is the total change of life, every

*The proportion of eight diameters would cause the columns to exceed fifty-two feet.

[The paper for this Sunday, has been introduced in its place by the Editor, and is selected from Bishop Jeremy Taylor's Contemplations on the State of Man,' chapter second. It recommended itself by its exceeding appropriateness to the subject discussed in this part of the volume; and, though not a fair specimen of the author's best eloquence, it is marked with the peculiarities of his superb style. It is also taken from a work of his which is not commonly known.-AM. ED.]

change is the death of some part.

Sickness is the death

of health; sleeping of waking; sorrow of joy; impatience of quiet; youth of infancy; age of youth. The same condition hath the universal world, and all things in it; so that all things which follow time, and even time itself, at last must die.

All human things, as well intrinsically, and of their own nature, as by external violences which they suffer, are subject to perish. The fairest flower withers of itself, yet is oftentimes before borne away by the wind, or perishes by some storm of hail. The most exact

beauties lose their lustre by age, but are often before blasted by some violent fever. The strongest and most sumptuous palaces decay with continuance, if before not ruined by fire or earthquake. Cast your eyes upon those things which men judge most worthy to endure, and made them to the end they should be eternal ;--how many changes and deaths have they suffered !

Gregory of Nazianzen placed the city of Thebes, in Egypt, as the chiefest of those wonders which the old world admired. Most of the houses were of alabastermarble, spotted with drops of gold, which made them appear most splendid and magnificent. Upon the walls were many pleasant gardens; the gates no fewer than a hundred, out of which the prince could draw forth numerous armies without noise. Pomponius Mela writes, that out of every port there issued ten thousand armed men, which, in the whole, came to be an army of a million. Yet all this huge multitude could not secure it from a small army conducted by a youth, who took and destroyed it.

But yet greater than this was the city of Nineveh, which. was of three days' journey [in compass ;] and it is now so many ages since, that we know not where it stood. No less stately, but perhaps better fortified, was the city of Babylon; and that which was the imperial city of the world, became a desert, a habitation of harpies, satyrs, and monsters; and the walls, which were two hundred feet in height, and fifty in breadth, could not defend it from time.

It is not much that cities have suffered so many changes, since monarchies and empires have done the same; and

so often hath the world changed her face, as she hath changed her monarch and master. He who had seen the world as it was in the time of the Assyrians, would not have known it as it was in the time of the Persians; and he who knew it in the time of the Persians, would not have judged it for the same when the Greeks were masters; after, in the time of the Romans, it appeared with a face not known before; and he who knew it then, would not know it now; and some years hence it will put on another form, being in nothing more like itself than in its perpetual changes.

How many kingdoms were overthrown by the covetousness of Cyrus! The ambition of Alexander did not only destroy a great part of the world, but made it put on a clear other face than it had before. That which time spares, is often snatched away by the covetousness of the thief; and how many lives are cut off by revenge, before they arrive unto old age!

There is no stability in any thing, and least in man, who is not only changeable in himself, but changes all things besides.

One day often makes an end of great riches. Many personages of great honor and esteem, changing their fortune, become infamous. Dionysius was thrust from his throne, from a king of Sicily, to be a schoolmaster in Corinth, and taught boys. Who could think, that from a king, he should be necessitated to become a schoolmaster. Who would not wonder at the cozenage of the world, that should see him in his royal palace with a sceptre in his hand, compassed about with his servants, and the great ones of his kingdom, and should after behold him in his school, managing a rod, in the midst of a number of boys? Croesus, the most rich king of Lydia, being in hopes to overthrow the Persians, not only lost his own kingdom, but fell into the power of his enemies, and failed a little of being burnt alive.

Particular persons are not only witnesses that all human things are dreams; but cities, nations, and kingdoms; nothing remains like itself; all things present are more frail and weak than the webs of spiders, and more deceitful