in the shaft or the capital or the frieze or the pilaster or the pediment or the cornices, or even the mouldings,—­everywhere grace and harmony, which grow upon the mind the more they are contemplated.  The greatest evidence of the matchless creative genius displayed in those architectural wonders is that after two thousand years, and with all the inventions of Roman and modern artists, no improvement has been made; and those edifices which are the admiration of our own times are deemed beautiful as they approximate the ancient models, which will forever remain objects of imitation.  No science can make two and two other than four; no art can make a Doric temple different from the Parthenon without departing from the settled principles of beauty and proportion which all ages have indorsed.  Such were the Greeks and Romans in an art which is one of the greatest indices of material civilization, and which by them was derived from geometrical forms, or the imitation of Nature.

The genius displayed by the ancients in sculpture is even more remarkable than their skill in architecture.  Sculpture was carried to perfection only by the Greeks; but they did not originate the art, since we read of sculptured images from the remotest antiquity.  The earliest names of sculptors are furnished by the Old Testament.  Assyria and Egypt are full of relics to show how early this art was cultivated.  It was not carried to perfection as early, probably, as architecture; but rude images of gods, carved in wood, are as old as the history of idolatry.  The history of sculpture is in fact identified with that of idols.  The Egyptians were probably the first who made any considerable advances in the execution of statues.  Those which remain are rude, simple, uniform, without beauty or grace (except a certain serenity of facial expression which seems to pervade all their portraiture), but colossal and grand.  Nearly two thousand years before Christ the walls of Thebes were ornamented with sculptured figures, even as the gates of Babylon were made of sculptured bronze.  The dimensions of Egyptian colossal figures surpass those of any other nation.  The sitting statues of Memnon at Thebes are fifty feet in height, and the Sphinx is twenty-five,—­all of granite.  The number of colossal statues was almost incredible.  The sculptures found among the ruins of Karnak must have been made nearly four thousand years ago.  They exhibit great simplicity of design, but have not much variety of expression.  They are generally carved from the hardest stones, and finished so nicely that we infer that the Egyptians were acquainted with the art of hardening metals for their tools to a degree not known in our times.  But we see no ideal grandeur among any of the remains of Egyptian sculpture; however symmetrical or colossal, there is no diversity of expression, no trace of emotion, no intellectual force,—­everything is calm, impassive, imperturbable.  It was not until sculpture came into the hands of the Greeks that any remarkable excellence in grace of form or expression of face was reached.  But the progress of development was slow.  The earliest carvings were rude wooden images of the gods, and more than a thousand years elapsed before the great masters were produced whose works marked the age of Pericles.