cities, and its having treated at all times on equal terms with Sovereigns of States, great and small, with Popes and Republics, Emperors and Dukes, concluding with them treaties of peace, alliance, or extradition.

But little change has taken place in the political constitution of this Republic. To this strict conservatism is due, for the most part, its long existence. Legislative, executive, and judicial power are vested in a Council which, in name if not in fact, has always numbered sixty. In ancient times all the power was in the hands of the citizens, heads of families, who met together in a council or assembly called Arengo. Thus the form of government was popular and democratic in the scientific sense of the word. But when, in the course of time, the number of inhabitants increased, and with them the number of the heads of families, the meetings frequently became scenes of dispute rather than of debate. Then it was (though the exact date cannot be determined) that the Arengo delegated the supreme authority and power to a Council of sixty heads of families. Whether these councillors were elected for life or for a term, and whether the Arengo reserved to itself, from that time, the privilege of electing new councillors as those who were in office gradually fell out of the ranks, we do not now know. Probably the Arengo nominated them, or perhaps, the nomination being an arduous undertaking amid the tumult of public speaking, it confided all to the new Council and left it to organize itself. However this may be, at the end of the fifteenth century we find the Council formed of sixty members: forty belonging to the Church district, or possessing a house in it, and twenty to the villas and other castles of the Republic.

The councillors are appointed for life. They must be and remain laymen. They receive no pay, but enjoy personal immunity from arrest for debts. Every citizen is eligible as a councillor on the completion of his twenty-fifth year, provided he be the head of a family, that is, not subject to

the patria potestas. From this a man is released only by the death of his father, or by emancipation. The number of sixty may not be altered. By way of establishing this rule, the appellation Council of Sixty has been retained even when, in times gone by, the number for a short period was not complete or was exceeded. The Council itself elects. members to fill up vacancies. A nobleman or a commoner must be replaced by a person of the same condition. The meetings are held when necessary, and the debates are carried on with closed doors.

A light fine was formerly laid on absentees; but this has now fallen into disuse. Bills for taxes or public works must be carried by a majority of two-thirds of the votes of the assembly. Too numerous to exercise the imperium, the Council was obliged, in its turn, to delegate this power to others. It therefore appointed two of its members to be Regents or Captains (formerly their title was different). These hold office for six months, not longer; nor can they be re-elected for three years after their term of office has expired. He who is called upon must accept the appointment, under penalty of a fine and of infamy. During the time of their regency the Captains are relieved of every other charge, have full personal immunity, and take precedence on every occasion. On retiring from office they have to render an account of their deeds to the Syndicate. For three days the magistrates appointed for this purpose meet in the palace, ready to receive the complaints or accusations of the townspeople.

The business of the Regents, according to the oldest Statutes, was that of looking after the security of the State and the observance of the laws, hearing the disputes of the people, reconciling dissensions, judging civil and criminal cases, hearing and presiding over the Council of Sixty, over the Council of Twelve (a consultative and judicial body elected from among the Council of Sixty), inflicting fines and

arbitrary penalties, revising the accounts of the State, and attending to other minor matters.

Fortunately, many of these duties are lighter in the present day. The safety of the State is no longer menaced by enemies; the judicial functions are now delegated to lawyers; the Committees superintend the administration of finance, of instruction, and so forth, and the conciliating judge assists in the efforts at peace-making.

But not on this account has the work of the Regents lost one whit of its importance or dignity. They still have the presidency of the Council of Sixty, of the Council of Twelve, of the State Committees, legal, economical, educational; they are the medium between the people and the Council, and, like the Roman magistrates, are continually on duty and in movement. Yet, if we consider them from a juridical point of view, we observe what a good many have failed to comprehend, that they have not the executive power. They lack, at least, its most important characteristic—the power of promulgating laws. They have neither the right of a veto, nor the full command of the military forces, nor the right of making treaties, of appointing diplomatic representatives, of conferring orders, or titles, nor the right of granting grace or amnesty. All these are reserved for the Council of Sixty, which, in name and in fact, is the Sovereign Prince, head of the State, and authentic interpreter of the laws.

The Regents are not directly invested with the imperium; they have, however, enough reflected power to make them the representatives, in fact the physical embodiment, of the Prince for whom they act and sign.

From all this it is evident that we cannot compare the constitution of the Republic of San Marino with that of any other State, past or present. The Arengo elected the Prince because it was forced to give unity to the government (imperium nisi unum sit nullum esse potest). But whether the people feared to fall under the tyranny of an oligarchy, or

despotism, or for some other reason, the Prince has always remained a collective body-the Council of Sixty. Its members-and this is an unique historical fact-keep together and govern as one person.

It is true we know of States with one, two, or three heads, or occasionally even with more (Decemviri, Council of Ten, Committee of Public Safety) elected, for a time, or for life, by a majority, or by a few electors, by dignitaries, or directly or indirectly by the people; but in all such cases those appointed, whatever their number may be, hold the power in their hands. The bodies by which they are surrounded exercise legislative and even consultative functions, the latter often shared by a still smaller body (Council of Credenza). But of a Prince who has preserved a realm in perpetuity, of an organized body which, like the ship of Theseus, renews itself eternally and defies the ages, we have no other example, as far as memory serves, either in or out of Italy.

A faint resemblance to it may be traced in the Venetian constitution under certain aspects and at a certain period. First, the Doge, with the power of a monarch for life; below, subservient to him, the national assembly. Later on, the Grand Council of 480 elected citizens. The Doge, losing his prerogatives and attributes in proportion as the Grand Council acquired them, became by degrees but the shadow of a ruler. The office of Councillor then became hereditary and lost all importance on the formation of the terrible Council of Ten, the real despot of the Republic. Here the constitution is distinctly aristocratic and oligarchical. For the seventeen members of this sinister Council were all patricians, elected by the Council from among its members. Their action was prompted by a feeling of impunity; it was not based on the possession of sovereign power.

It is but natural that writers on the government of San Marino should hold various opinions about it and call it by a variety of names: democracy, oligarchy, aristocracy,

government of the best men, or a mixed government; and give utterance to the most varied opinions without ever arriving at any conclusion.

It is, however, useless to try to fit to one thing a measure intended for another. Everything depends on a clear understanding of the terms used. If a government emanating from the people be democratic, whatever name it may have, then this government is democratic. The Prince (the Council) emanates from the people (Arengo) without any need of re-election, as he is perpetual. We must not forget, however, that the Council was not substituted by any change for the popular Assembly. It received, it did not usurp, the powers it enjoys.

The popular diet may sleep, but it knows when to wake. This it has proved on more than one occasion, when it has reconvoked itself or been reconvoked by the Council, and has again assumed the control of the government. Further, every six months, in the first week of the new Regency, the heads of families reassert their right by meeting and presenting, orally or in writing, their demands or remonstrances.

This Prince emanating from the people is in harmony with the democratic origin of the Republic. Should the objection be made that the Council renews itself, the answer is to be found in the theory that the people, in creating the Council, delegated to it the appointment of the councillors, and imposed on it that division of classes which still remains, and which has become even more sharply defined. Thus the Council always, with the consent of the people, appoints the new members in accordance with the prescribed rule. Further, since the sixty members drawn from the twelve hundred families that form the State must not include among them any near relations, every class is fairly represented, and the best men have a chance of being chosen. Nor is the democratic nature of the constitution injured because of the two Regents; a patrician is usually elected and generally