steady and assured look-" Well," said he, "what say you of this drink; may one make a libation out of it?" Upon being told there was only enough for one dose :-" At least," continued he, "we may say our prayers to the gods, as it is our duty, and implore them to make our exit from this world, and our last stage happy, which is what I most ardently beg of them." After having spoke these words, he kept silence for some time, and then drank off the whole draught, with an amazing tranquillity and serenity of aspect, not to be expressed or conceived.

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Till then, his friends, with great violence to themselves, had refrained from tears; but, after he had drunk the potion, they were no longer their own masters, and wept abundantly. Apollodorus, who had been in tears almost the whole conversation, began then to raise great cries, and to lament with such excessive grief, as pierced the hearts of all that were present. Socrates alone remained unmoved, and even reproved his friends, though with his usual mildness and good-nature. "What are you doing?" said he to them: "I wonder at you! Oh! what is become of your virtue? Was it not for this I sent away the women, that they might not fall into these weaknesses? for I have always heard you say, that we ought to die peaceably, and blessing the gods. Be at ease, I beg

you, and show more constancy and resolution." He then obliged them to restrain their tears.

In the mean time he kept walking to and fro, and when he found his legs grow weary, he lay down upon his back, as he had been directed.

The poison then operated more and more. When Socrates found it began to gain upon the heart, uncovering his face, which had been covered, without doubt, to prevent any thing from disturbing him in his last moments," Crito," said he, "we owe a cock to Esculapius; discharge that vow for me, and pray do not forget it:" Soon after which he breathed his last. Crito went to his body, and closed his mouth and eyes. Such was the end of Socrates, in the first year of the ninety-fifth Olympiad, and the seventieth of his age.

THE SPIDER.

A BOY walked forth with his father into the vineyard. There he found a bee caught in the web of a spider, which had already opened its formidable jaws to despatch its prisoner. But the boy set the bee at liberty and destroyed the web of the rapacious insect.

The father of the boy beheld this and said: How canst thou, my son, feel so little respect for the skill and ingenuity of this creature, as to destroy the web which it has woven with such pains? Didst thou not observe how regularly and beautifully the delicate threads were arranged?-how then canst thou be at once so compassionate and so cruel?

Is not the art of the spider malicious, replied the boy, and directed to deeds of perfidy and murder? The bee on the contrary collects honey and wax in its cells. Therefore did I release the bee and destroy the web of the spider.

The father commended the judgment of unaffected simplicity, that condemns even the most brilliant talents, which, actuated by self-interest, aim at the injury and ruin of others.

But, continued the father-thou mayst nevertheless have done injustice to the spider. See how it defends our ripening grapes from the flies

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and wasps with its web, which it stretches before them.

Does it then act thus, asked the boy, to defend the fruit, or is it not rather to satiate its own thirst of blood?

Truly, answered the father, it is not to be supposed that the spider cares much about the grapes. O, said the boy, then the good which it does unintentionally has no merit.

True, replied the father, our thanks for this service are due to nature alone, which can cause even the pernicious and mischievous to contribute to the preservation of the good and useful.

Why, asked the boy soon afterwards, why doth the spider abide alone in her solitary web, while the bees live together in social harmony, and labour for the general benefit of the community? Why do not the spiders associate to make one large net?

My dear child, replied the father, many cannot live in harmony together but for good purposes. The union of the wicked and the selfish carries in its bosom the seeds of dissolution. Wise Nature, therefore, would not attempt to effect that which men so often find from experience to be impracticable and ruinous.

As they were returning home, the boy said: I have however learned something to-day of the ugly spider.

Why not?-answered the father-Nature hath placed the hurtful beside the beneficial, and the bad by the good, that the latter may appear by the contrast the more beautiful and excellent: and thus man may learn a lesson even from the former.

BENEFIT OF EARLY RISING.

EARLY rising is beneficial to health, that first of earthly blessings; whilst the pernicious habit of continuing an unnecessary length of time in bed is assuredly destructive to health. Nothing can be more certain than this, although it is not commonly observed, because the evil steals on by slow and imperceptible degrees. The celebrated old Parr-celebrated for his healthful longevityattained the most uncommon and almost incredible age of one hundred and fifty years. One of his simple maxims was-rise early, and “ go to bed soon."

Early rising is favourable to study. When are we so competent for application, as in the morning, when both the body and mind are refreshed and invigorated by rest and sleep, when all nature, as if awakened and quickened by the cheerful sun gone from "his chamber and rejoicing like a strong man to run a race"-when