such an end was impossible, and the world has been as much blessed by his death, as it has been improved by the influence of his life and doctrines. True to the principles he had inculcated for so many years, he stood before the Dykastery conscious of his own worth, and of the benefit his life would confer upon his fellow citizens, he had no favours to ask, no hatred he cared to placate, no personal enmities he desired to indulge. Justice, and a verdict in accordance with the laws, were his only demands. With that, were it life or death, he would be content. But to preserve the

one and avert the other, not a word should be said, not an act done unworthy of himself, or the mission which the God had imposed upon him. Strengthened by the consciousness of this divine protection and inspiration, Socrates was, at his trial, still the teaching, faithful, just, and virtuous Socrates of the past seventy years; heedless of the murmurs of the multitude, careful only of the right and true.

There is no picture in ancient or modern history, (always excepting the ONE of which this is not the place to speak,) so impressively beautiful as Plato's death of Socrates. He and his friends have just concluded the finest of all the dialogues, that on the immortality of the soul; Socrates has drunk the fatal hemlock, all are weeping, and Appolodorus, "bursting into an agony of grief, weeping and lamenting, he pierced the heart of every one present, except Socrates himself. But he said, 'what are you doing my admirable friends? I indeed for this reason chiefly sent away the women, that they might not commit any folly of this kind, for I have heard it is right to die with good omens. Be quiet, therefore, and bear up.'

tears.

"When we heard this we were ashamed, and restrained our But he, having walked about, when he said that his legs were growing heavy, laid down on his couch; for the man so directed him. And at the same time he who gave him the poison, taking hold of him, after a short interval examined his feet and legs; and then having pressed his foot hard, he asked him if he felt it he said that he did not. And after this he pressed his thighs; and thus going higher, he showed us that he was growing cold and stiff, Then Socrates touched himself, and said, that when the poison reached his heart he should then depart. But now his abdomen was almost cold; when uncovering himself, for he had been covered over, he said, and they were his last words, Crito, we owe a cock to Esculapius, pay it, therefore, and do not neglect it.'

"It shall be done,' said Crito, but consider whether you have any thing else to say.'

"To this question he gave no reply; but shortly after he gave a convulsive movement, and the man covered him, and his eyes were fixed; and Crito percieving it, closed his mouth and eyes.

as we

“This, Echecrates, was the end of our friend, a man, may say, the best of all of his time that we have known, and moreover, the most wise and just.”*

"Thus perished the 'parens philosophia'-the first of ethical philosophers; a man who opened to Science both new matter, alike copious and valuable—and a new method, memorable not less for its originality and efficacy, than for the profound philosophical basis on which it rests. Though Greece produced great poets, orators, speculative philosophers, historians, &c., yet other countries, having the benefit of Grecian literature to begin with, have equalled her in all three lines, and surpassed her in some. But where are we to look for a parallel to Socrates, either in or out of the Grecian world? The cross-examining Elenchus, which he not only first struck out, but wielded with such matchless effect, and to such noble purposes, has been mute ever since his last conversation in the prison; for even his great successor Plato was a writer and lecturer, not a colloquial dialectician. No man has ever been found strong enough to bend his bow, much less, sure enough to use it as he did. His life remains as the only evidence, but a very satisfactory evidence, how much can be done by this sort of intelligent interrogation; how powerful is the interest which it can be made to inspire-how energetic the stimulus which it can apply in awakening dormant reason, and generating new mental power."†

JOHN ALFRED LANGFORD.

* Plato, Phœdo. c.154-5. Translated by Cary.

+ Grote. History of Greece, p. 2. c. lxviii. x. 8. p. p. 681– 2.

THE ELIXIR FOR POVERTY.

AND what is Poverty, to those
Who still have hope and strength?
To those who share a mutual trust,
Love sweetens e'en the hardest crust
And poorest fare at length.

If selfishness be rooted out
And banished far away,
If petulence and foolish pride
Be cast, with vanity, aside

Then kindliness shall stay.

The poor, sometimes, they know not how
To gain the morrow's food;

But there is One shall satisfy

Who feeds the ravens when they cry,

The tender nestling brood.

Uncertain they, and so are all,
Of what the next day brings,-
They work, they trust, with duty round,
With God above, and faith profound,
That His are earthly things.

May they not dwell within the town,
In rude abodes and drear,
And yet be lightened from within,
And hear sweet voices 'mid the din
That whisper words of cheer?

What costly gifts of wealth can bring
Such pure and heartfelt joy,
As e'en the humblest one can feel
When sharing, perhaps, his scanty meal
With the poor orphan boy.

When tending those upon the bed
Of helpless sickness laid,

A true and noble friend in need
To such," an Israelite indeed,"
Who have no other aid.

And if, instead of city walls,
They have the open sky,
The pure free country their abode,
Still lighter is their pressing load,
And richer their supply.

The future may be blank, we know,
But have they not each day

The lawns, and woods, and pastures wide,
The waters clear, and flocks beside,
The flowers upon their way?

And should not these as tokens be,
Of One in whom they trust;

A Shepherd that shall lead them where
Abideth neither toil nor care,

Shall not the Lord be just?

If Poverty leaves Nature's grace,
And strength of limb and soul;
How many lead a sadder life,
With pains and penalties more rife,
With whom we might condole.

Severer far the torments when
Perhaps neither strong nor brave,
Within a tyrant's bondage bound
Some galling manacles surround
A cringing, fearing, slave!

The compromise of thought, of free
And glorious open speech,-
The bending of the manly head,
The veiling of the brow in dread:
To mount the deadly breach

Were little, to some minds compared
With these! where is the goal
E'en of ambition's paradise
Worth purchasing at such a price,
Repression of the soul!

The salient soul by Poverty
Is oftentimes set free,—

Its energies and strength awake,—
Would that such joy all might partake,
Whatever their degree!

If, from an height above the world,
The spirit sees below,

And through the coverings of earth
It may discern the want, or worth,
The true from false can know.

How shall we dare deplore a lot
To gifts like these allied!

Nobler than power and ancient name,
And purer oft than worldly fame,
Higher than pomp and pride,

IOTA.

NORA.

THE sea rolled on the pebbled shore,
Played with the grass between;
Walked Nora on the sands, and thought
Of days that once had been.

The waves they kissed her sandaled feet,
As they would homage pay;

But Nora gave no heed to them,
Her thoughts were far away.

She heeded not the ripple's swell,
Nor yet its music mild;

Which sought to lull her troubled heart,
As a mother lulls her child.

With trembling step, and tearful eye,
She walks the sands along,

A sigh the only answer, she
Gives to the ocean's song.

"He will not come, he will not come,"
She murmurs faint and low;

"He will not come, and I shall die, And he will never know."

A little mound with wild-flowers hid,

Is by the rising wave,

With wild, and dirge-like music kissed,

And that is Nora's grave.

JOHN ALFRED LANGFORD.

TOM SUFFRAGE'S VOTE.

BY SHAGGYQUILL.

CHAPTER VII.

"May good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both." JUBILEE for Lower Fleecington never since the memory of man, upon man had two public dinners been perpetrated in one day in that venerable and incorruptible borough, up to the evening when the Grouselands dined at the Grouseland Arms, and the Winnegarites fed their patriotism at the Cat and Trumpet. Perhaps in the distant ages, made, like glass, dim and dusky, by the lying breath of historians, in the glorious golden ages of British cannibalism, when strange animals, whose bones are lectured upon now-a-days, ate, and ruminated, and digested, two parties of our tatooed ancestors may often have feasted to the noise of triangles and tom-toms upon the fated site of Lower Fleecington; but in the interim between the two epochs, no such matter was upon record. Judge, then, the excitement which prevailed when such a wonderful event actually came to pass. The manner in which the Winnegarites entered their hostel was sufficiently loud enough to absorb all attention, so that it was fresh food for surprise to hear that, in the midst of the hubbub, the Grouseland party, in the quietest manner, had driven into the court-yard of the Grouseland Arms, and were sitting down to a quiet dinner by themselves. The scenes of a pantomime, where " an Apartment in the Fairy Palace" is followed on the instant by the "Howling Court of the Demons," or some such outrageous matter, would not make a bad instance of the contrast between these two entertainments. Not that the Exquisite himself and his supporters were remarkably like fairies, however a-kin the Winnegarites might have been to the other people; but what I mean is, that the contrast was as perfect a thing in its way as any one could desire to witness. the Cat and Trumpet all was stupendous joints of meat, and tremendous decanters of watered port and brandied sherry-noise, enthusiasm, heat, bustle, and vulgarity. In the Grousland Arms all was as cold as an ice-cream-politics carefully eschewed and small talk encouraged. In the democratic circle an individual who let fall a few words not referring to the election, was severely reprimanded for trifling "at such a time!" Whilst the aristocratic few, when a rash young man endeavoured to blow into

In