hand, and to think less of the master's skill. In other words, we are inclined to attribute the invariable soundness of Socrates' mind to the Divine allotment of an unerring moral sense, and to forget the largeness of his prudence in the supposed acuteness of his sagacity.

It is thus, that some calm and majestic temple, raised by a master in Grecian art, when compared with the innumerable perplexities of Gothic barbarism, appears so indivisible in its unity, so inseparable in its completeness, that we are tempted to consider it the execution, or rather the conception, of some happy moment, and to deny that it could have been put together from an infinity of formless materials by the vexatious toilings of incessant care, directed by a profound knowledge of the principles of beauty. This is a great error into which we are in danger of falling. Analogy might teach us that only rude and unorganised masses of matter have been allowed to attain their state of being suddenly. The crystal grows slowly in its silent but not uninstructive cave, and the exquisite brilliancy of the diamond is not that

instantaneous hardening poets love to dream of. And, whatever soundness there be in these analogies, it is matter of known fact, that the temper of Socrates was of mortal mould, and only the industry bestowed on its correction was indeed, divine. By the same constant care, the intellectual and moral simplicity observable in Socrates was built up.

However we estimate Socrates as a speculatist, there can be but one opinion about his practical character, about his sagacity in detecting in what happiness consists, and about his success in promoting it. Plato had more enthusiasm of imagination; and when the test of his master's sounder sense was withdrawn, ran into speculations well adapted to exercise a powerful influence over sensitive and imaginative minds. Aristotle was more nice in his distinctions, and more scientific in his arrangements; and, when his master's practical objects had ceased to direct men's attention wholly to conduct, was well fitted to be listened to with admiration by those who view morals as a science. But for a sound judgment in questions of honesty and

usefulness, we would prefer Socrates' strong sense and right feeling, and practical mode of viewing every subject, to the peculiar powers which belonged to either of his great pupils.

The speculatist must rejoice that one so conscientious and judicious has left us a deliberate and decisive opinion on one of the most anxious cases of conscience which can occur to an honest, bold, and diligent investigator of truth. What man who has sufficient daring to follow forth information and reflection to the conclusions to which they may lead him, has not had the misfortune to discover some great and leading truth which he finds it difficult to reconcile with established opinions? Shall he dare to break in upon common practice and received opinion with novel speculations? Or, can truths ever be so dangerous that their discoverer is bound to suppress them? These are important questions. The inquirer into truth begins by drawing towards him a silken thread, but he ends in binding on his conscience, if he be sincere and in earnest, obligations which he finds it difficult to discharge, and impossible to neglect. If he

be sincerely anxious to have a sound opinion on the highest supposable case of this kind which can occur, he will rejoice to find that Socrates has left us a deliberate and decided opinion. His character is so high, and his authority so weighty, that it will not be a lost labour to inquire what could be the reasons which induced him to give such an opinion.

When so wise and good a man was endeavouring to establish a system of conduct, it was impossible that he should overlook the highest and most powerful motive-Religion. He appears indeed to have directed his attention to three distinct objects; first, to rouse and elevate the minds of his countrymen to such a reverence for the Deity as may become an influential motive to conduct; secondly, he endeavoured to make the expression of this reverence for the Deity as consistent as truth would permit with the established belief and worship of his country; and, thirdly, he urged the removal from his country's belief and worship, of whatever principles appeared irreconcilable to reason and prejudicial to happiness.

First. Of the reverence for the Deity Socrates himself felt with the most sincere and deep piety, and to which he desired to rouse and elevate the minds of his countrymen, the following expressions of his feelings afford a sufficient estimate. "Socrates held that the Gods know all things, both what is done, and what is said, and even thoughts which never are expressed; and that they are present everywhere, and give intimations to men, respecting all human affairs."* It will throw some light on the force of this passage to be reminded that Socrates considered reason and conscience the Divine Voice; or, as he expressed it, that "the Intelligence intimated to him." And how paramount an authority he ascribed to that voice, or rather to its Author, may be inferred from the fact, that "he spoke openly against the folly of persons who acted differently from himself, namely, who did any thing in transgression of this intimation of the Gods, and at the same time are on their guard against man's bad opinion."

* Xen. Mem. B. i. c. 1. + Ibid. Ibid. B. i. c. 3.