of superiority to Bryant, as the painter of nature. This sort of poetry, however, we are not inclined to consider of the highest order, and our author may base his claims to distinction upon productions of a loftier character. This is popular poetry, and "SENECA LAKE" will be admired by ten, where "THE DREAM OF A DAY" is admired by one among readers of poetry. Percival's claim to superiority, even in this kind of composition, could be easily established if he would simply write a little more of it. If space permitted, we would be happy to give many more extracts from his delightful book. Some of his songs are exquisite, and at times he gives us passages which makes one almost hold his breath. What a poetic picture is the following! How perfectly is the rhythm suited to the thought and to what an intensity is that thought wound up: "Softly sweet the song is stealing, softly through the night afar; Faint and low the bell is pealing; dim, through haze, the light of star; Hushed and still is all around me; cold and still my brooding heartSure some magic spell has bound me-bid, oh! bid the spell depart." p. 193. We commend this volume to all lovers of true poetry. We feel that we have not done it full justice in this review. We close with an extract which proves that the poet, though he loves to wander through classic realms, has the soul and feelings of an American. Let it commend him to all who feel an interest in American literature, or a pride in American genius: "How deep the silence- ART. VI.-Xenophon's Memorabilia of Socrates, with English Notes. By ALPHEUS S. PACKARD, Prof. of the Greek and Latin Languages and Literature, Bowdoin College. New-York: Gould, Newman & Saxton. 1839. 2. The Clouds of Aristophanes, with Notes. By C. C. FELTON, A. M., Eliot Prof. of Greek Literature in Harvard University. Cambridge: J. Owen. 1841. 3. The Gorgias of Plato, with Notes. By THEODORE D. WOOLSEY, Prof. of Greek in Yale College. Boston: Jas. Munroe & Co. 1842. THESE little books are cheering to the eye of the American student. In the dearth of good editions of the classic authors, we hail, with delight, any addition, however small, to our scanty stores, and tender our thanks to the editors for their very valuable and acceptable labors. This is the first time that these old Athenian gentlemen have been introduced to us on our own shores. We trust that they will be graciously received, in the literary circles of our republic, and that the editors and publishers, who have united to present them, in neat and attractive costume, will meet with their deserved reward. We propose, in this article, to consider the claims of Socrates. We have summoned, before our tribunal, the accused and the accuser, and we invite our readers to take a seat with us, and listen to the defence of the earnest and eloquent advocate. The task of vindicating the memory of their injured master seems to have been entrusted, by his fellow-disciples, to Xenophon, and it could not have fallen into better hands. There is an air of sincerity about the Memorabilia, which marks it as the production of a man, who does not seek to varnish over a fictitious tale, and, by studied exaggeration, to extort applause; but to give a living portraiture of Socrates, such as he was, under a deep conviction that to be admired, it is only necessary that he should be known; that his finely proportioned character, like the perfect statues wrought by the chisel of Phidias or Praxiteles, needs only to be unveiled to the gaze of the world, to attract its homage. We value the representations of Plato only so far as he accords with Xenophon. He makes Socrates too frequently the reporter of his own opinions, to render him a trustworthy guide. Xenophon had more of the traits of a Bos well about him. Hence, although it would be ridiculous to compare his genius with Plato's, we must acknowledge him to be a better reporter of the Socratic philosophy and a better representative of the Socratic school. Plato was himself a philosopher and the founder of a sect. In him we behold the dialectic skill and practical good sense of Socrates, combined with an imagination of oriental magnificence, and occasionally overpowered by it. The Homer of philosophers, he was a poet as well as a speculatist. It is not surprising, therefore, that the simple instructions of his master were adorned or distorted by the creations of his own prodigal and inexhaustible genius.* It is fortunate for the fame of the Athenian philosopher that these memoirs, from the pen of his affectionate disciple have come down to us. They form his best defence against the charges of his accusers. They vindicate him alike from the calumnies of Aristophanes, and the more innocent, though scarcely less dangerous, misrepresentations of Plato, and sustain the philosopher in the position to which the impartial judgment of his countrymen finally elevated him, as the martyr of virtue. The history of philosophy records no change so sudden as that which succeeded the death of Socrates. The delirium of the popular mind, during which he perished, had no sooner subsided, than the verdict of condemnation was reversed. Amidst the dazzling pretensions of impudent impostors, and the strife of contending demagogues, the people looked back, with tender regret, to the memory of that hoary-headed old man, who concealed, under an unprepossessing exterior,t a kind and generous heart, whose life had been spent for their benefit, and whom, while Xenophon remarks, with respect to Plato's Apology, that he had not heard from Socrates, nor would he commit to writing any such things. Xen. Epist. 5. Cicero refers to Plato in Acad. I. 4, as varius, multiplex et copiosus; and observes, again, Leporem Socraticum subtilitatemque sermonis cum obscuritate Pythagoræ et cum illa plurimarum artium gravitate contexuit. De Rep. I. 10. We shall have occasion to refer to some other passages in another place. + Socrates, like Pope, Boerhaave, and many others, to whom nature has not been sparing in intellectual graces, was not remarkable for his personal attractions. He had an enormous mouth, with thick lips, prominent eyes and a turned up nose. Poor Benoit, a scholar of the seventeenth century, complains that his lot was, in one respect, worse than Socrates', for he had a wife, with whom compared, Xantippe was an angel, "per annos quadragenta-septem," is his doleful account in his memoirs, "miserum conjugem omnibus diris affecit." For the character of Socrates' better half, see Xen. Conviv. II. 10. employed in his unostentatious avocation of instructing the ignorant, and reclaiming the vicious, they had seen in the streets, the agora and the shops, summer and winter, morning, noon and night, barefoot, a coarse blanket his only covering. Instead of being denounced as the corrupter, he was hailed as the benefactor of his race; and the storın, in which he had been swept away, was roused against his enemies. Some fell victims to the fury of the multitude, others fled the city, and others perished by violent hands, or wasted in hopeless exile. This returning tide of feeling in his countrymen was only the beginning of his fame, the types of that veneration by which his name would be borne to the most distant nations and down to the remotest posterity. The wise and the good of all civilized lands have combined to honor him. Virtue has lingered fondly around his shrine, and genius has adorned it with her choicest offerings-from the immortal trilogy of Plato, to the Mort de Socrates of La Martine so that by the general voice of mankind, "Poor Socrates, "By what he taught and suffered for so doing, "For truth's sake suffering death unjust, lives now The birth of Socrates, A. C. 470, marks an era in the history of our race. He is "a personage," says M. Cousin, "eminently historical. He represents, indeed, an idea which is of the highest elevation, the idea of philosophy; that is to say, of reflection in itself-reflection applied to all things, but principally and first to human nature." It is with justice, that Cicero venerates him, as the parens philosophiæ,† the father of that noble philosophy, which has man for its object, and seeks to ascertain the relations in which he stands to the universe around him; to develope his higher capacities, aud train him for a more enlarged and elevated sphere,a philosophy which no people needed more than the Athenians, nor any age more than that which witnessed and despised the labors of Socrates. Athens, in the age of Pericles, A. C. 441, had reached the highest stage of Greek civilization. A series of prosperous * Introduc. Hist. Phil. American Trans. pp. 43-77. + De Fin. II. 1. De N. D. I. 34. That Cicero used this expression with reference to moral philosophy, or the philosophy of human life, is evident from the passage in Brutus, 8. Primum tum philosophia, non illa de natura, quae fuerat antiquior, sed haec, in qua de bonis rebus et malis, deque homimum vita et moribus disputatur, inventa dicitur. events, contributing to the power and aggrandizement of the republic, and developing the intellects of a people, upon whom nature had showered her gifts, with unusual prodigality, had made Athens the eye of Greece, mistress of arts and arms, and the admiration of the world. The city was adorned with vast and magnificent buildings. Commerce and the arts were made tributary to the comfort and splendor of its inhabitants, who lived amidst a profusion of every thing which wealth could procure, or luxury crave. This state of things was not unattended with its usual evils, so that the era which marks the greatest prosperity of Athens, indicates also the period of its decline. The lust of wealth was stimulated by facility of acquisition, and luxury increased with the means of enjoyment. The simplicity of ancient manners, and the severity of ancient virtue, yielded to the insinuating arts of an enfeebling civilization; and the nation lost that firm integrity and elevated public spirit which distinguished the contemporaries of Aristides, and that disciplined valor which was displayed by the heroes of Marathon and Salamis. In the decline of a state, unfavorable symptoms first appear among the young. young. Athens was no exception to this law of national existence. The youth of that opulent and giddy metropolis, disdaining the rigors of ancient discipline, devoted themselves to the arts of ostentation and display, affected an effeminate dandyism, and revelled in debauchery and crime. The Athenian exquisite, with his long hair greased and curled, like our King-street dandies, and glittering with rings to his finger-ends, strutted over the public walks, in a flowing pallium of purple, richly embroidered, fastened by a curiously wrought brooch, on the right shoulder, and trailing gracefully behind; or dashed down to the Piraeus, in his gilded chariot, the admiration of Athenian courtezans, and the envy of less fortunate beaux. These young blades frequently squandered upon their horses, as many minas as would support a philosopher, harrassing their foolish old fathers the meanwhile, like Strepsiades in the clouds, with a perpetual drain upon their purses. The vices of the age were something worse than those which confine themselves to the surface of society, and display themselves in a love of splendid equipage, costly dress, and sumptuous banquets. They struck their roots deep into the heart of the body politic. The intercourse of the citi |