the literature of antiquity, for sadness of tone, this has always seemed to me one of the most eloquent and affecting, affecting not only by the subjects of consolation which suggest themselves to the Roman Governor, but by the absence of those higher consolations, which, a few years later, were to be imparted to the mourning heart of humanity, by the Son of God, in a more distant Eastern land. In the course of the letter, he says: "Returning from Asia, while I was sailing from Ægina towards Megara, I began to gaze upon the regions around me. Behind me lay Ægina; before me Megara; on my right Peiræus; on my left Corinth; cities which once were most flourishing, but now lie overwhelmed, and in ruins." These scenes, so full of historical interest, naturally excited in the Roman representative of the conqueror of Greece, the reflections here embodied. But, just as to the human being departing from this life, there is opened the entrance to another illimitable state of existence, so cities and nations, descending from the heights of their power and fame, and falling into decay, still enjoy, in the memories of their great men, and the intellectual achievements which have marked the periods of their glory, a life of intellectual influence, enlarging its circuit, as time goes on, and the empire of civilization extends its borders. A city or a nation which has added to the world's treasure of art, science, and letters, ceases not to possess an influence on human affairs, when the day of its material greatness is over, and the sun of its prosperity is set. The scenes which met the eye of Sulpicius, I have often gazed upon with sadness, indeed, to think of the mu

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tability of national as well as individual fortunes; but my sadness was mingled with joy, to see how indestructible is that intellectual spirit, which in antiquity raised the small but beautiful land of Greece to such loftiness of splendor and renown; to feel that its power is not dead, but mightier over the minds of men, than it was in the days of Pericles. Greece exists in the Vatican and the Capitol. She is enthroned in the classic halls of Munich and Berlin; she rules at Heidelberg and Bonn; she sits in the Louvre, and the British Museum; she is sovereign at Oxford and Cambridge, at Yale and Harvard; and here, in this city of the Pilgrims, with her schools and libraries her galleries of art - her public lectures - her legislative assemblies and courts of justice, the sway of Athens is willingly acknowledged. Wherever scholarship has superadded the charm of intellectual grace to the beauties of nature, Greece still lives in the freshness of her immortal youth. And in the classic land of Hellas itself, after centuries of servitude, and only a single generation of independence restored; —with poverty still pervading the kingdom; communications difficult and costly; material comforts, such as here are among the commonest necessities of life, enjoyed only by a part of the population; that even, under these circumstances, the old Hellenic spirit, transmitted from an illustrious ancestry, animates the existing generation with great recollections and aspirations, and spurs them to such achievements in education and letters, cannot fail to kindle the best hopes of their future destiny.

NOTE.

WITH the exception of the first seven pages, and the translations, this lecture was delivered from brief notes. I can only be sure, therefore, of the order of the topics, and the substance of the lecture. The language is as near to that employed in the delivery as I have been able to make it six or eight months after the time of speaking. I have probably added some things that were not spoken, and omitted others that were. In one place I have inadvertently inserted in the text a sentence which should have formed a foot-note, inasmuch as it refers to an event - the lamented death of Pericles Argyropoulos which took place after the lecture was delivered. I may add, that, in writing it out, I have preserved, as far as I could, the informal style of an extemporaneous discourse. Some of the poems, near the close of the lecture, I think I did not read. All of them but one have been printed before; and here and there a passage on some special topic is taken with alterations from previous papers of mine. A few errors, not by the printers' fault, but mine, should be noted.

LECTURE II.

THE MASQUERADE OF THE ELEMENTS.

BY EDWARD L. YOUMANS, M. D.,
OF NEW YORK, N. Y.

Two hundred years ago, a German chemist spoke of his brethren in the following brief and laconic way: "They are a strange class of mortals, impelled by an almost insane impulse to seek their pleasure among smoke and vapor, soot and flame, poisons and poverty." This idea of chemistry still widely prevails; people still regard it as an affair of deflagrations, distillations, precipitations and explosions, perpetrated by the dingy genius of the laboratory ; or else, a concern of doctors and apothecaries, and associated with blue, yellow, and red globes, standing in the window with a light behind them. Nevertheless, there is another phase to the subject. Our sententious German goes on to say: "And yet, among all these evils, I seem to myself to live so sweetly, that, may I die if I would change places with the Persian King."

To those who have surrendered themselves with a true enthusiasm to these subjects, there arises such a