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surety, therefore, for me to Criton, to the reverse of that, for which he became surety to the judges: for he was my bail that I remain, but be you my bail that I shall not remain when I die, but shall depart hence, that Criton may bear it the more easily, and may not be affected when he sees my body burnt or buried, as if I were suffering some dreadful misfortune; and that he may not say at my interment, that Socrates is laid out, or is carried out, or is buried. For be well assured of this, my friend Criton, that when we speak amiss we are not only blameable as to our expressions, but likewise do some evil to our souls. But it is fit to be of good heart, and to say that my body will be buried, and to bury it in such manner as may be most pleasing to yourselves, and as you may esteem it most agreeable to our laws."

When he had thus spoken, he arose, and went into another room, that he might wash himself, and Criton followed him, but he ordered us to wait for him. We waited, therefore, accordingly, discoursing over, and reviewing among ourselves what had been said; and sometimes speaking about his death, how great a calamity it would be to us; and sincerely lamenting that we, like those who are deprived of their fathers, should pass the rest of our life in the condition of orphans. But when he had washed himself, his sons were brought to him (for he had two little ones, and one older), and the woman belonging to his family likewise came into him: but when he had spoken to them before Criton, and had left them such injunctions as he thought proper, he ordered the boys and women to depart, and he himself returned to us. And it was now near the setting of the sun : for he had been away in the inner room for a long time. But when he

came in from bathing he sat down and did not speak much after wards: for then the servant of the Eleven came in, and standing near him, "I do not perceive that in you, Socrates," said he, "which I have taken notice of in others; I mean that they are angry with me, and curse me, when being compelled by the magistrates, I announce to them that they must drink the poison. But, on the contrary, I have found you up to the present time to be the most generous, mild, and best of all the men that ever came into this place; and therefore I am well convinced that you are not angry with me, but with the authors of your present condition, for you know who they are. Now, therefore, (for you know what I came to tell you) farewell; and endeavor to bear this necessity as easily as possible." And at the same time, bursting into tears, and turning himself away, he departed. But Socrates, looking after him, said, “And thou, too, farewell; and we shall take care to act as you advise." And at the same time, turning to us, "How courteous," he said, "is the behaviour of that man! During the whole time of my abode here, he has visited me, and often conversed with me, and proved himself to be the best of men. And now how generously he weeps on my account! But let us obey him, Criton, and let some one bring the poison, if it is bruised, and if not, let the man whose business it is, bruise it." "But, Socrates," said Criton, "I think that the sun still hangs over the mountains, and is not set yet. And at the same time, I have known others, who have drunk the poison very late, after it was annnounced to them, who have supped and drunk abundantly. Therefore do not be in such haste, for there is yet time enough." Socrates replied, "Such

men, Criton, act fitly in the manner in which you have described, for they think to derive some advantage from so doing; and I also with propriety shall not act in this manner. For I do not think I shall gain anything by drinking it later, except becoming ridiculous to myself through desiring to live, and being sparing of life, when nothing of it any longer remains. Go, therefore," said he, "be persuaded, and comply with my request." Then Criton, hearing this, gave a sign to the boy who stood near him; and the boy departing, and having stayed for some time, came back with the person that was to administer the poison, who brought it pounded in a cup. And Socrates, looking at the man, said, "Well, my friend (for you are knowing in these matters) what is to be done?" "Nothing," he said, "but after you have drunk it to walk about until a heaviness takes place in your legs, and then to lie down. This is the manner in which you have to act." And at the same time he extended the cup to Socrates. And Socrates taking it, -and, indeed, Echecrates-with great cheerfulness, neither trembling nor suffering any change for the worse in color or countenance, but, as he was used to do, looking up sternly at the man, you," he said, as to making a libation from this potion? May I do it or not?" "We can only bruise as much, Socrates," he said,

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as we think sufficient for the purpose." I understand you," he said; "but it is both lawful and proper to pray to the gods that my departure from hence thither may be prosperous, which I entreat them to grant may be the case.' And, so saying, he stopped, and drank the poison very readily and pleasantly. And thus far, indeed, the greater part of us were tolerably well able to refrain from

VOL. XIV.

weeping; but when we saw him drinking, and that he had drunk it, we could no longer restrain our tears. And from me, indeed, in spite of my efforts, they flowed, and not drop by drop; so that, wrapping myself in my mantle, I bewailed myself, not, indeed, for his misfortune, but for my own, considering what a companion I should be deprived of. But Criton. who was not able to restrain his tears, was compelled to rise before me. And Apollodorus, who, during the whole time prior to this, had not ceased from weeping, then wept aloud with great bitterness, so that he infected all who were present except Socrates. But Socrates upon seeing this, exclaimed, "What are you doing, you strange men? In truth, I principally sent away the women lest they should produce a disturbance of this kind; for I have heard that it is proper to die among well-omened sound. Be quiet, therefore, and maintain your fortitude." And, when we heard this, we were ashamed, and restrained our tears.

But he, when he found during his walking about, that his legs became heavy, and had told us so, laid himself down on his back. For the man had told him, to do so. And at the same time, he who gave him the poison, touching him at intervals, examined his feet and legs. And then, pressing very hard on his foot, he asked him if he felt it. But Socrates answered that he did not. And after this he pressed his thighs, and thus, going upwards, he showed us that he was cold and stiff.

And Socrates also touched himself, and said that when the poison touched his heart he should then depart. But now the lower part of his body was almost cold; when uncovering himself (for he was covered) he said (and these were his last words) "Criton, we owe a N 2

cock to Esculapius. Discharge this debt, therefore, for me, and do not neglect it." "It shall be done, said Criton," "but consider whether you have any other commands." To this inquiry of Criton he made no reply; but shortly after he moved himself, and the man uncovered him. And Socrates fixed his eyes; which, when Criton

perceived, he closed his mouth and eyes. This, Echecrates, was the end of our comrade; a man, as it appears to me, the best of those whom we were acquainted with at that time, and, besides this, the most prudent and just.From Taylor's Translation of the "Phædon."

Theological Notes and Queries.

OPEN COUNCIL.

[The utmost freedom of honest thought is permitted in this department. The reader must therefore use his own discriminating faculties, and the Editor must be allowed to claim freedom from responsibility.]

REPLICANT. In answer to QUERIST Nos. 4-9, p. 116. We profess ourselves incompetent to decide on this class of questions which have been sent by C. M. If he will favor us with inquiries the answers to which would tend to clucidate any portion of revealed truth, we will do our best to give him satisfaction.

THE PROMISES TO ISRAEL.

REPLICANT. In answer to QUERIST No. 10, p. 116. The promise of the Messiah is an exception indeed; since it includes all other real blessings, even eternal life itself.

ADOPTION.

REPLICANT. In answer to QUERIST No. 11, p. 116. The word violɛoía, which is used in Rom. viii. 15, 23, ix. 4, Gal. iv. 5, Ephes. i. 5, and is in all those places rendered by adoption, properly means the placing as a son. To adopt is to make one a son otherwise than by birth. In a peculiar sense the Israelites were chosen of old to this blessing. "To

them belonged the adoption."—— Rom. ix. 4. Under the present economy it belongs to the Christian Church. Gal. iv. 5, Ephes. It is not inconsistent with the Fatherhood of God, because it confers on us a higher worship than we had by natural birth. Bengel says, "The dignity of sons which is possest by seniors, with use of the patrimony." By adoption God confers a further privilege on His sons. If we conceive of the new state as entered by regeneration, we can hardly talk of adoption. The terms, both correct and Scriptural, must be used separately, to prevent confusion of idea. It is worthy of re. mark, that the old Greek ecclesiastical writers sometimes use the word violeoia when they mean baptism.

THE PAWNBROKER.

REPLICANT. In answer to QUERIST No. 12, p. 116. There does not appear to be anything in the occupation of a pawnbroker which has the essence of sin. If there were,

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Literary Notices.

[We hold it to be the duty of an Editor either to give an early notice of the books sent to him for remark, or to return them at once to the Publisher. It is unjust to praise worthless books; it is robbery to retain unnoticed ones.]

THE REVIEWER'S CANON.

In every work regard the author's end,

Since none can compass more than they intend.

A HISTORY OF ENGLAND FOR THE PEOPLE. FROM THE EARLIEST RECORDS. Re-Edited and continued to the death of the PRINCE ALBERT. By a Member of the University of London. Fourth Edition. London: William Tegg.

THE History of England is the history of England's past life, and though geographically small, has been the scene on which that life has to operate; it has played out a drama whose acts are thrilling, and whose moral is worthy the study of ages. England's story has been often written, but not always with literary skill, seldom with philosophic analysis, and more seldom still with righteous impartiality. Many of the works are so voluminous, that in this age of intense activity few can command the time for their perusal; others are so intolerably dull, that every page diffuses a drowsiness through the system, and others are so

one-sided in their treatment of facts and character, that the sooner they are burnt the better. All preceding histories have left ample room for the one before us. It brings within the compass of eight hundred pages the leading events, and the prominent characters of our past times. There are no waste words, no pedantic disquisition, no stiff stateliness of style, no attempt at being grand, here. Considering the fulness of information, the clearness of statement, the vividness of style-the condensation is remarkable. It is just the history for the people, and the people should possess it; it comes within their means.

THE COLLECTED WRITINGS OF EDWARD IRVING. (In Five Volumes.) Edited by his Nephew, REV. G. CARLYLE, M.A. Vol. I. London: Alexander Strahan & Co.

MRS. OLIPHANT, in her interesting biography, has revived the memory of Edward Irving-a name which, thirty years ago, fell from a thousand lips every day, but which was fast sinking into oblivion until her pen brought his grand figure once more on the stage. Taken for all in all, Edward Irving was a type of men who appear in very distant intervals in the world's history. Heaven is not lavish in its gifts of extraordinary men. Once in a century, perhaps, they come. For this reason they arrest attention and demand study. Mr. Carlyle, his loyal and talented nephew, in the voluminous work of which this is the first volume, is engaged in reproducing the utterances of this marvellous man; and such utterances are seldom heard in these days-stately in their sentences, Miltonic in their ring, prophet-like in spirit. The following extract may be given as a specimen of the great man's spirit and style. It is on the world's neglect of the Bible:-"Oh! if books had but tongues to speak their wrong, then might this book well exclaim, Hear, O heavens and give ear, O earth! I came from the love and embrace of God; and mute nature, to whom I brought no boon, did me rightful homage. To man I came, and my words were to the children of men. I disclosed to you the mysteries of hereafter, and the secrets of the throne of God. I set open to you the gates of salvation, and the way of eternal life, heretofore unknown. Nothing whatever did I withhold from your hope and ambition; and upon your earthly lot I poured the full horn of Divine providence and consolation. But ye requited me with no welcome, ye held no festivity on my arrival, ye sequester me from happiness and heroism, closeting me with sickness and infirmity; ye make not of me, nor use me for your guide to wisdom and prudence ; but press me into your list of duties, and withdraw me to a mere corner of your time; and most of ye set at nought, and utterly disregard me. I came, the fulness of the knowledge of God. Angels delighted in my company, and desired to dive into my secrets; but ye, mortals, place masters over me, subjecting me to the discipline and dogmatism of men,

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