A Truth.-I become more convinced every day I live, that quiet and repose are the secrets of happiness, for I never feel so near an approach to this blessing as when in the possession of them. General society is a heavy tax on time and patience, and one that I feel every year less inclination to pay, as I witness the bad effect it produces, not only on the habits, but on the mind. Lady Blessington. Italian Women. The absence of any effort to shine, the gentleness without insipidity, the liveliness without levity, and above all, the perfect good nature that precludes aught that could be disagreeable to others, form the distinguishing characteristics of the manner of Italian women from the princess to the peasant, and are alike practised by all with whom they converse.— Ibid. French Character.—Every Frenchman in the middle or lower classes believes himself capable of arriving at the highest honours. This belief sometimes half accomplishes the destiny it imagines; but even when it fails to effect this, it ever operates in rendering Frenchmen peculiarly liable to rush into any change or measure likely to lead to even a chance of distinction.-Ibid. Children. The child of noble birth is known by the simplicity of its dress, and the good manners of its bonne; while that of the parvenu is at once recognised by the showiness and expensiveness of its clothes, and the superciliousness of its nurse, who, accustomed to the purse-proud pretensions of her employers, values nothing so much as the attributes that indicate the possession of wealth.-Ibid. Death by Lightning.-After one of the late tempests, a poor woman was found near Hatfield, killed by lightning. The newspaper report of the circumstance states: "the body presented no appearance of having been struck by the electric fluid, and death is supposed to have been occasioned by alarm and over excitement." The fact is that "few persons who have not inspected a human body struck by lightning, have a correct idea of the mode in which the stroke effects a sudden termination of life. The visible alterations in the frame afford a striking contrast to the ordinary ravages of what is termed disease. The machinery of the body appears nearly perfect and unscathed; and yet, in none of the multitudinous forms of death is the living principle so summarily annihilated."-Popular Errors Explained, p. 37. St. Marylebone Savings Bank. The number of deposit accounts during the year ending July 5th, has increased from 12,445 to 12,881; and the sum invested, from £243,469 to £260,852. The Advantage of the Bible to Prisoners.The Bible has produced results in Protestant countries which can never be expected amongst us. It would be as absurd on our part to imitate too closely the mode of moral instruction of other countries as it would be to adopt their method of agriculture. Amongst Protestants, a prisoner furnished with a Bible can become his own pastor or instructor, whereas the Catholic form of worship requires, on the contrary, publicity and a long train of ceremonies. With ninetenths of English and German prisoners, the Bible becomes an old acquaintance; with nine-tenths of our people it would appear a new work, which none of them have ever been taught to read. The question here is, not whether religion is or is not a principal medium of amelioration or reformation amongst prisoners in general; it is enough to acknowledge that such an instrument in our hands is wanting, and that we must look for it elsewhere.-The Prisons of the Seine, by M. Barthelemy Maurice. Social Life.-The difference between the social life of ancient and modern times is by no means so great as mankind have been led to believe. Artificial institutions, however ill devised, still leave us men and women, parents and children, lovers and friends, servants and masters, mutually dependent and depending, conscious of the dignity of our nature and the excellence of virtue, subject to the temptations of sense and the tyranny of passion. In every age, at all events among every civilized people, the great elements of social interest must have been the same. St. Michael's Oranges are prized for their thin rind, abundance of juice, and freedom from pips, all which depend upon the age of the tree. The young trees when in full vigour, bear fruit with a thick pulpy rind, and an abundance of seeds; but, as the vigour of the plant declines, the peel becomes thinner, and the seeds gradually diminish in number, until they disappear altogether. Thus, the oranges that we esteem the most are the produce of aged trees, and those which we consider the least palatable come from plants in full vigour.—A Winter in the Azores. ters of spots are just now traversing the Spots on the Sun.-Two pretty large clussun's disc, and will arrive about its middle on the 26th instant. There are about six spots connected with each cluster, and one of these spots, which is nearly round, has a very dark nucleus, and a well defined penumbra. Its diameter is about as large as that of the earth, or about 7000 or 8000 miles. On the 3rd instant, a third cluster, consisting of a number of smaller spots, appeared near the sun's eastern limb.Times, July 9th. THE Engraving prefixed to this article is a representation of the death of Socrates, from a picture of the celebrated historical painter, Louis David, exhibited in the Louvre in the year 1787. We annex a brief account of the subject of this much admired Painting, being confident that it cannot fail to interest our readers. The document containing the accusation against Socrates was lodged in the Temple of Cybele as late as the second century of the Christian era, of which the following is a translation :: "Melitus, son of Melitus, accuses Socrates, son of Sophroniscus, of being guilty of denying the existence of the gods of the republic, making innovations in the religion of the Greeks, and of corrupting the Athenian youth. Penalty-Death." Melitus, who was a tragic writer of mean order, was engaged as an accuser in this affair, by the wealthy and more powerful enemies of Socrates. Amongst them were distinguished Anytus and Lycon, the former a rich artizan and zealous democrat, who had rendered very important services to the republic, by aiding Thracybulus in the expulsion of the thirty tyrants, and in establishing the liberty of his country. The latter was an orator, and, therefore, a political magistrate, to which office the Athenian orators were entitled by virtue of the laws of Solon. Socrates was seventy years of age when summoned to appear at the Areopagus. The news of this event did not excite much surprise, as the people had long expected it. Aristophanes, the celebrated comic poet of Athens, had previously undertaken, at the instigation of Melitus, to ridicule the venerable character of the philosopher; and when once he was calumniated and defamed, the fickle populace ceased to revere that man whom they had before looked upon as a being of a superior order. The enemies of Socrates were of two classes the one consisted of citizens who could not help admiring his genius and virtue, but who regarded him as a dangerous innovator and subverter of public order. They were ready, with him, to acknowledge that some reformation might be made in the tenets of paganism-that the gods and goddesses were not patterns of virtue, and that the conduct of the sovereign of the skies himself was far from exemplary; but, said they, the thunders of Jupiter exercise a salutary influence over the minds of some, and the pains of Tartarus still operate as a bridle upon the passions of others. To bring in question the ancient faith was at once to attack the institutions of the republic at their base, and excite revolution. The philosophy of Socrates, even though true, must be suppressed; for the life of one man was not to be put in balance with the repose of a whole people-with the safety of the country. It is better that Socrates should die than Athens perish. The other class was composed of the superstitious and bigoted, of the vicious and imbecile, who were daily exposed to the censures and sarcasms of the philosopher. In fine, of that set of narrow, jealousminded men, who look upon the welfare and fame of their neighbours with envy and with malice. The race that had exiled Aristodus because he was great, was ready to condemn Socrates because he was wise. The friends and disciples of the great philosopher saw the danger that menaced him, and with anxiety and fear they crowded round their master, supplicating him to fly, or to adopt some means of defence; but he would do neither. Lysias, one of the most celebrated orators of the age, composed a pathetic oration which he wished his friend to pronounce, as his defence, in the presence of his judges. Socrates read it, praised its animated and eloquent style, but rejected it. as being neither manly nor expressive of fortitude. The anxiety and trouble of avoiding condemnation appeared to him of little moment when compared to the performance of his duty in upholding to the last moment the truth of his principles and the dignity of his character. Socrates, though both eloquent and persuasive in conversation, was not capable of addressing a large assembly; therefore, on the day of his trial, he asked permission of his judges to use the means of defence to which he had been accustomed-namely, to speak familiarly with, and ask questions of his adversaries. "Athenians," he said, in commencing, "I hope I shall succeed in my defence, if, by succeeding, good may result from it; but I look upon my success as being very doubtful, and therefore do not deceive myself in that respect. But, let the will of the gods be obeyed." The two chief accusations against Socrates were firstly, that he did not believe in the religion of the state; secondly, that he was guilty of corrupting the minds of young men, and of disseminating the disbelief of the established religion. Socrates did not reply in a direct manner to either of these charges. Instead of declaring that he believed in the religion of his country, he proved that he was not an atheist; instead of refuting the charge of instructing youth to doubt the sacred tenets of the law, he protested and demonstrated that it was morality that he taught them; and, instead of appealing to the compassion of his judges, he did not disguise the contempt in which he held the means practised by parties accused, who, in order to excite sympathy and compassion, bring their children and relations to supplicate, with tears in their eyes, the mercy of the judges. "I, also, have friends and relations," he said, "and as to children, I have three-one a stripling, the other two in childhood; yet I will not permit them to come here to excite your sympathy. Why will I not do so? It is not caused by stubbornness, nor by any disdain I have for you. For my honour, for your honour, for that of the republic, it is not meet that, with the reputation, whether true or false, which I have acquired, I should make use of such means to pro. cure your acquittal. Indeed, I would be ashamed, if those who distinguish themselves for wisdom, courage, or any other virtue should, like many people that I have seen, although they have passed for great men, commit actions the most grovelling, as if death was the greatest misfortune that could befal them, and that, if their lives were spared, they would become immortal." When Socrates had ceased speaking, the judges of the Areopagus found him guilty by a majority of three. On being demanded, according to the spirit of the Athenian laws, to pass sentence on himself, and to mention the death he preferred, Socrates, conscious of his own innocence, replied, Far from deeming myself guilty, I believe that I have rendered my country important services, and therefore think that I ought to be maintained in the Prytaneum at the public expense during the remainder of my life-an honour, O Athenians, that I merit more than the victors of the olympic games. They make you happy in appear ance; I have made you so in reality.' 66 This reply in the highest degree exasperated his judges, who condemned him to die by poison. When the sentence was passed, Socrates remained for a few minutes calm and undisturbed, then asked permission to speak a few words. "Athenians," he said, "your want of patience will be used as a pretext by those who desire to defame the republic. They will tell you that you have put to death the wise Socrates; yes, they will call me wise, to add to your shame, although I am not so. If you had but waited a short time, death would have come of itself, and thus saved you from disgracing yourselves. You see I am already advanced in years, and must shortly die. All know that in times of war nothing is more easy than saving our lives by throwing down our weapons, and demanding quarter of the enemy. It is the same in all dangers. A thousand pretexts can be found by those who are not scrupulous about what they say or do. It is difficult, O Athenians, to avoid death; but it is much more so to avoid crime, which is swifter than death. It is for this reason that, old and feeble as I am, I await the latter, whilst my accusers, who are more vigorous and volatile, embrace the former. I am now about to suffer the punishment which you have sentenced me to―my accusers, the odium and infamy to which virtue condemns them." "What is going to happen to me," he added, "will be rather an advantage than an evil; for it is apparent, that to die at present, and to be delivered from the cares of this life, is what will best suit me. I have no resentment towards my accusers, neither have I any ill-will against those who condemned me, although their intention was to injure me-to do all in their power to do me harm. I will ask but one request: when my children are grown up, if they are seen to covet riches, or prefer wealth to virtue, punish and torment them as I have tormented you; and if they look upon themselves as beings of importance, make them blush for their presumption. This is what I have done to you. If you do that, you will secure the gratitude of a father, and my children will ever praise you. But it is time that we should separate; I go to die, and you to live. Which of us has the best portion? No one knows, except God." When he had finished, he was taken to prison and loaded with chains. His execution was to have taken place in twenty-four hours, but it was postponed for thirty days on account of the celebration of the Delian festivals. Socrates, with his usual cheerfulness and serenity, passed this time in conversing with his friends upon some of the most important subjects that could engage the mind of man. Plato relates, in the dialogue entitled "The Phedon," the conversation which took place on the day preceding his death. That dialogue, without exception, is the most beautiful that the Greeks have left us. We regret being obliged to give only those passages which are more immediately connected with our recital. "After the condemnation of Socrates," says Phedon, "we did not allow a day to escape without seeing him; and on the day |