into mere oligarchy, which is an unjust and corrupt aristocracy. Then follows a democracy, or government in which the general mass of society, rebelling against the injustice and oppression of the few, take the government into their own hands, according to the rules of sobriety, law, and order, and this, in time, degenerates into a mobocracy, in which the people, disregarding all law, and running into many licentious excesses, find no remedy for their disorders except in a return to monarchy.*

The only criticism to which this view of the natural transitions of society is justly amenable, is perhaps this, that it is wrong in regarding pure monarchy as the first kind of government developed naturally in human society. The truth would rather seem to be that the first government is patriarchal monarchy, or what Polybius, in common with Aristotle, regards as a royalty, or mere chieftaincy, to which the community yield a ready and voluntary assent. It is only after society has run through all the other transitions referred to by Polybius, and has thus completed the circle of human progress, that it returns to monarchy indeed, but a different sort of monarchy from that from which it originally departed, not a mild royalty, nor a mere chieftaincy, but a pure monarchy, or rather absolute monarchy, since there is nothing pure in which the one man rules by virtue of armed legions, rendering the last state of that society worse than the first, as we find the second childhood of the individual worse than the first, or more hopeless and more afflicted by pains and infirmities. It should be superfluous to remark that this natural course of human society is often, and indeed very generally, modified and changed by accidental circumstances.

Another remark of Polybius in this connection is also deserving of special notice. It is that "above all others the Roman government, both in its first establishment and subsequent increase, displays a close conformity with the settled laws and regular course of nature." The justness of this remark must be apparent to every political philosopher of the present age. But it is very remarkable that a philosopher should have had the discernment to make it, as Polybius did, before its correctness had been entirely verified by history. Rome was in the youth of its glory when Polybius made this remark; but with true philosophic precision he foresaw the end which awaited her; and in a subsequent part of his reflections on government, he distinctly pointed out the catastrophe which befel her about a century later, and the very causes by which she would be brought to that condition.

The distinguishing characteristic of the sociological reflections of Polybius is this, that they give distinct prominence to the idea, altogether too little regarded by statesmen, as well as by mankind in general, that nations, like individuals, have their prescribed lifetime, longer or shorter, according to circumstances, and that their manifestations of activity and general destiny, under various circumstances, depend, to an important extent, upon the period in which a nation may be, or its age, at the time.

Polybius seems to have been thoroughly imbued with the great truth that all things are in perpetual motion; that there is no standing still in the universe; that the law of decay and death, of retrogression and de

* See Polybius's General History, book vi., chapter 1.

↑ See General History, book vi., chapter 1.

See General History, book vi., chapter 2.

cline, is as completely and inseparably connected with the machinery of creation as the law of renovation and life, of progression and improvement. "All things are subject to decay and change," he says*-a volume in a sentence is here spoken by this profound philosopher of antiquity-a volume, however, which seems to have been utterly unread by many modern philosophers, especially those who are constantly prating about unlimited progress, as if, forsooth, all things in the universe were moving upwards and none downwards.

Polybius seems, indeed, to have been fully alive to the great truth which Fourier, in modern times, a far less sound political philosopher, has grandly uttered, that "all things have a beginning, a middle, and an end in the natural course of their existence. Animals, vegetables, minerals, planets, suns, solar systems, universes, biniverses, triniverses; all things, great and small, in the creation, have a natural career from birth to death, from the commencement to the close of their visible existence."†

We find Polybius uttering almost precisely the same idea, though upon a less grand scale, as follows:-For as nature has assigned to every body, every government, and every action, three successive periods; the first of growth, the second of perfection, and that which follows of decay; and as the period of perfection is the time in which they severally display their greatest strength, from hence arose the difference that was then found between the two republics." This he said in allusion to Carthage and Rome, in their great contention, known as the second Punic war. It is in this connection that Polybius made the remark, already referred to in the foregoing part of this review, in relation to the Sociology of Carthage, as to the cause of Roman superiority in that memorable war, Rome being then in its period of perfection, and Carthage in its period of decay.

The same remark which Polybius made concerning Carthage and Rome, or a similar one, might, with equal propriety, be made concerning Britain and America, in modern times. The great advantages which the latter would possess over the former, in a hostile collision or contention in arms, are referable almost entirely to the fact that one is young and the other old. America may be compared to an adventurous, intrepid, rawboned, young giant of nineteen, Britain to a hale, hearty, old hero of sixty, strong in muscle, brave in spirit, and with somewhat superior bulk of body, yet rather slow in his motions, stiff in his joints, and not capable of recuperating quickly from the effects of stunning blows.§ Should not these young giants in the arena of nations, however, be admonished to show a proper respect for age in their fellow nations, if not by any higher and nobler considerations, at least by the reflection that they, too, must before long, in the inevitable course of nature, pass into the feebleness and decrepitude of old age-if, indeed, they do not permanently end their career by their recklessness and folly?

*See General History, book vi., chapter 2.

+ See Hugh Doherty's introduction to Fourier's "Passions of the Soul," translated by Rev. J. R. Morrell, page 6.

See Merchants' Magazine, December number, page 669.

§ In one important point the parallel between Carthage and Britain does not hold. Carthage, according to Polybius, in its period of old age and decay, was under the rule of the populace; Britain, in its old age, is even more under senatorial rule than young America. This only proves that the character of a nation's government is no reliable criterion of its age. In fact this question as to the age of a nation is one of the most difficult to be encountered by the Social Philosopher, and will hereafter be more particularly considered.

In reviewing the Sociology of Greece, we should not omit notice of the celebrated remark of Solon, the great Athenian lawgiver, who, when asked if he had given the Athenians the best laws, is said to have replied, "the best of which they are capable." That was spoken like a true philosopher. In this brief speech, again, we find a volume in a sentence. It is worth nearly all that Plato and Aristotle have said in their long and elaborate disquisitions on Sociology. For the good which they have spoken is so much obscured and involved in the bad and indifferent, that its value is thereby greatly impaired. But this remark of Solon stands out in bold relief, like the famous oracle of Delphi, "Know thyself." It is a direct, distinct, and unqualified recognition of the great truth, tha there are laws, more fundamental than mere human enactments, determining the condition and destiny of nations-laws in deference to which all human statutes must be enacted, in order to render them of any real efficacy.

It has been already stated that Aristotle distinctly enough recognizes this truth in several passages of his disquisition on Politics, but it has also been shown that the force of his recognition is greatly impaired by the fact that in many of his most prominent aims he practically ignores it. Nor should we omit reference, in this connection, to the remark of a similar import, which has been attributed to Anacharsis, the Scythian, who, himself a wise man, was attracted to Greece by the fame of its wise men in the time of Solon. This Scythian sage, in conversation with Solon one day, is said to have expressed his astonishment that he should expect to restrain the avarice and injustice of men by written laws, and to have remarked, "Your writings are like spiders' webs. They may catch and entangle the weak and little flies, but the rich and powerful will break through and despise them." This remark much resembles that which has been subsequently made by an English statesman-Lord Chatham"You may entrench yourself in parchment to the teeth-the sword will find its way to the vitals of the constitution." But the remark of the Scythian sage evinces much more profundity of thought than that of the English statesman, since any one may readily see that the sword can cut its way through the cobwebs of the law and its paper fortifications, but it requires considerable sagacity to discern that there are forces in society, far less palpable and obvious than that of the sword, which can as effectually do so.

Our review of the Sociology of Greece, thus far confined almost exclusively to its speculative ideas, would seem to demand some notice of its practical Sociology, as illustrated at least in the two famous States of Sparta and Athens. Our notice of both these States, a just consideration of either of which would be an ample theme for an elaborate essay, must, however, in accordance with the vast scope of the present review, be contracted within the compass of a few sentences.

Much may be condensed in a few words concerning the sociological condition of these two famous States of antiquity, by remarking that Sparta, as organized by Lycurgus, bore a near resemblance to the model republic of Plato, already considered; and that Athens, as organized by Solon, bore a near resemblance to that kind of State which Aristotle seemed most to approve, so far, indeed, as we can get at any definite idea what his opinion on this point was. Nor is it a little remarkable and noteworthy that these two renowned States should have had two such il

lustrious patrons respectively-that Sparta should have had Lycurgus for its lawgiver and Plato for its eulogist; and that Athens should have had Solon for its lawgiver and Aristotle for its eulogist. For though Plato did not directly eulogize the constitution of Sparta, nor Aristotle that of Athens, yet they indirectly and virtually did so, by highly commending, or at least specifically recommending, institutions prominently observable in these States respectively.

Sparta, like the ideal republic of Plato, was composed of three great classes the artisan or labor class-the helots, as they are commonly called, who were slaves, and denied all participation in State affairs, except in respect to working, and occasionally fighting; the warrior class, or gentleman of leisure, who did nothing particularly but eat, talk, and fight, who were the real citizens of the State; and the magistracy, which consisted of two hereditary chief magistrates or kings, an elective Senate of thirty, and the five Ephori, a more popular species of magistrates, designed as a counterpoise to the aristocratical power of the Senate.

Like the ideal republic of Plato, the republic of Sparta aimed at equality of individual fortune among its real citizens, and as nearly attained it as is possible, perhaps, in a human society on so large a scale, and having equally as extensive aims; though, unlike the ideal republic, it did not aim at absolute community of property, still less of wives and children. Yet even on these points, it much more nearly assimilated the ideal republic than any other known human society that has existed, among Europeans at least. For in Sparta no man was permitted to have any home in the generally received sense of that word. Every man, woman, and child belong to the State, in contemplation of Spartan law. Even their very meals were all in common, and their lodgings also-at least, so the histories tell us; so that no man was permitted to occupy his wife's chamber, their interviews being altogether clandestine. Like Plato, too, the grave and unimpassioned lawgiver of Sparta seems to have entertained no very sublimated ideas as to the chastity of women, or the propriety of fostering the passion of jealousy. Jealousy was scouted at Sparta as a passion unworthy of a man, and if a woman found herself at any time a mother, provided she had furnished the State with a stout, healthy child, especially one capable in time of wielding a lance, no questions was asked as to its paternity. The child belonged to the State. In the parlance of Plato, every man was its father; by the way, a far nobler sentiment than that abominable one of some modern nations, that such a child is the child of no man-nullius filius. But shame on Lycurgus, he permitted and recommended the exposure of feeble and deformed children.

Like Plato, too, Lycurgus practically attended to the laws of genealogy, and in doing so also carried out some of Plato's ideas as to the propriety of regarding women as the equals of men, and educating them in the same manner. The women of Sparta were exercised in running, wrestling, and throwing the quoit and javelin, that by these manly exercises they might be better capable of producing a noble offspring. Mitford has perhaps justly remarked that "Lacademon is the only country known in history where attention was ever paid to the breed of men." But honor to Plato, Lycurgus was not the only statesman who ever had the sagacity to perceive its importance.

One notable peculiarity in the constitution of Sparta, observable also in that of Rome, where it was doubtless borrowed directly from Sparta,

is worthy of special notice, the more so as it is a peculiarity no longer observable in human society. This was a direct representation of the more popular power of the State as a counterpoise to other powers in the executive department of the government. This representation at Sparta was made in the persons of the five Ephori,* as at Rome in the persons of the ten Tribunes. These Ephori were executive magistrates, whose authority was exerted in check-mating or restraining other powers in the government, whether legislative, judicial, or executive, and whose power extended even to the arresting and imprisoning of their kings-a power which was actually exercised on one occasion in the person of Pausanias. In all approved modern governments, as in those of Britain and America, the popular power of the State, as contradistinguished from the more aristocratical, is directly represented only in the legislative departments of the government. There alone is the checking and balancing of power carried on, except in so far as the several departments are checks upon each other, and in so far as the different courts in the judicial department are also checks upon one another. But the executive department in all the most approved modern governments is a unit. The head of the executive, the chief magistrate, king, or president, can be impeached only in the legislative department of the government. In Sparta, on the contrary, as in Rome, this power was delegated to special executive magistrates.

Another noteworthy fact concerning the Spartan constitution, as established by Lycurgus, is, that there was a singular scarcity, if not a total absence, of written laws. The great aim of the Spartan lawgiver seems to have been to write his laws on the hearts of the people, and to instil them into their habits. Therein he proved himself a profound social philosopher. For Aristotle has wisely taught, in his Ethics, that virtue consists in certain energies or habits of the soul, and it is undoubtedly as true that the habits of men are the real laws of society.

One other remark it is important, and due to the cause of sociological science, that we should make on the constitution of Sparta, though it must appear a severe criticism upon the opinion which has passed current among the wise, as well as the commons, for upwards of twenty centuries -Lycurgus did not so much give laws to Sparta, as draw out and mould into the manners of the people those laws which were already inscribed, in broad and natural outlines, on the character of Spartans, and which their environment or surrounding circumstances were eminently well fitted to maintain for many years. The laws which he prescribed were, in fact, in perfect harmony with the stern Doric character which was indigenous to the Spartans, who were by nature stoics, and they were eminently adapted to a small, isolated community of rude warrior, which the Spartans continued to be until, at least, the laws of Lycurgus went the way of all

* The Ephori were not created by Lycurgus, but were subsequently introduced.

+ Mr. Mitford, in his history of Greece, has undertaken to combat a somewhat similar idea to that of our text, namely, that the laws of Lycurgus were but revived usages of the heroie ages, or those of the rude Doric highlanders. He undertakes to assure us that Lycurgus did it all himself, and tells us that Xenophon, Thueydides, and others, all said so; in other words, showed that they understood the matter as little as Mr. Mitford. This somewhat renowned modern writer might hereafter have stood better as a philosophical historian if he had not taken such special pains on this point to write himself unacquainted with some of the most fundamental principles of Socialogy. It is positively nauseating to read some of the puerilities of Mitford, as to the wonderful things that Lycurgus did. It seems he would have us believe that the Spartans only laughed because Lycurgus told them they ought sometimes to be merry. See Mitford's Greece, ch. iv., sec. 3.