trow." Meton discharged himself of his nonsense at a rate which put him out of breath; and satisfied with the laugh which followed, he remained quiet for a time, with only now and then a grimace. Diotima, taking advantage of the silence which followed, went on with her story.

have their arts from Egypt; for I observed that the houses of the Babylonians resembled those of Ionia, of Jerusalem, of Phonicia, and of Egypt; and many travellers have assured me that no nation on the earth, except the Northern and Eastern Scythians, are free of the traces of Egyptian art.

"Need I describe to you, what I saw only at a distance, the gardens of Semiramis,-an artificial mountain raised upon arches of brick, and covered with forest trees of immense size;-the tower of Belus, the first built and the loftiest of human

"Of all cities in the world Babylon is the least famous for the virtue of its people; and I believe that a people naturally pure and educated to virtue, would be instantly corrupted if by any chance they should occupy a city like Babylon. Being a centre for the commerce of the world, it is filled with slaves, traders and sharpers of all nations, from Gades to the extreme east. The mass of its people, living in extreme poverty, because of the oppression of the rich, know of no enjoyment but in the worship of Adonai, who is the personification of every vice. The Persian lords, living idly, and secure within their walls, vie with each other only in debauchery and extravagance. Among the women purity is hated, and among the men sobriety suspected. In the luxury of their lives, the effeminacy of their manners, and the grossness of their worship, this wealthy people are without an equal among the nations. I dare not disgust you with a recital of what I saw and heard, even in the streets and at the doors of the temples, where riches strove with vice, which should be most conspicuous. Actions punishable among ourselves with death, are here practiced as religious rites. Bestialities are boasted and recommended, which would here condemn the doer to infamy.

For the modes of living in Babylon,they resemble those of Egypt, and differ not greatly from our own. I am inclined to believe that all nations of the world

ligion, so undivine in its form, and so ineffectual in its spirit, it should be named a delusion rather, and not a belief? We found Strato at the door of his house, engaged in conversation with an officer of the Royal Guards. My master lifted me from the dromedary, and embracing Strato, explained to him the purpose of his visit, and said something in my favor. After a moment's hesitation, he turned to the officer and dismissed him in the most respectful manner imaginable; then seizing Zadec and myself by the hand, he hurried us into the house, and turning to the door shut it and bolted it.

"You are unlucky,' said he, to have come at this moment. The person whom you saw with me when you came up, is a provider of the palace, and he has orders to seize or purchase all the Greek women that are brought into Babylon. I wish a better fate for my country woman than to be buried for life in the palace, especially if she be such a person as you represent her.' While Strato talked with my master, I followed them through the court into an inner chamber, and being sufficiently terrified with what I heard him say, I conceived a hope of as good favor with him as I had found with Manes on a like occasion. Though I could not think to affect him with my face, from which forty years had taken the attraction of youth, I nevertheless removed my veil, and embracing his knees as a suppliant, I besought him with tears to yield me the protection of his house. Strato's countenance glowed with satisfaction, when he saw me unveiled and addressing him in this fashion. I will buy this woman of you, friend,' said he to Zadec, 'whatever be her price.' My

the inventor of it a very ingenious liar: | but it was rather Diotima's skill in the delivery of it, than the merit of the piece itself, which charmed them. Socrates did not conceal his admiration. "No historian are you," said he, "Diotima, but the most eloquent of narrators: when you speak, not only my ears but my whole body seems to hear; and what you describe I instantly behold. Observe, Euripides," continued he, addressing the dramatist, "that women are the lords of speech; the tongue is theirs." Socrates' remark was instantly turned by the parasite into a jest upon women, at which no one laughed; a misfortune which silenced him again for the time.

"I am in the right still," responded Euripides; "for though I grant you these wonderful exceptions, and might add a few others who have composed good verses, women are not, as I think, equal to men in the use of words. Perhaps we may concede them a greater fluency and readiness in the use of established phrases, for we see them always careful to make use of accepted terms, avoiding a new word as they would a rock; and for this I confess they have my admiration but they never originate thoughts, nor invent sciences, nor advance arts; nay, in these it seems to be a woman's fate to fall behind her teacher. But enough of this; please you, Diotima, you who are more than a woman, and as I think inspired with the soul of both sexes, tell us your opinion of the female sex are they the equals or superiors of men in the use of speech ?"

"Is it Euripides, the friend of women," said Diotima," who calls upon the weakest of women, in the extremity of garrulous age, when her wit is dulled, her senses impaired, her strength wasted, her mind. untuned, her soul faint with the burthen of mortality, and nothing left her but an easily moving tongue, a gift of which she

should rather be ashamed, so common is it and so abused:-is it she whom you call upon to defend the poor race of feeble women? Will you have her defend them by an appeal to your courage-magnanimous hearts that you are? or shall she start up stiffly, and with a shriek, and in eager voice, voluble and vehement, cry out on you for the liberty of the sex, ye hard masters, as did the Amazons of old, and when their husbands would not hear nor redress their injuries, they freed themselves boldly in the night with their knives? No, I see you would not have me cry out upon you; you abhor the vulture shriek of a discontented woman—your wives have taught you to hate that-hey? Meton, Socrates-and I think Euripides has disciplines too, from certain sources. My friends make no question, I am sure, of the superiority of women in glibness and keenness of tongue; they are able to cut and stab with their tongues; the gods have not left them defenceless! You, Socrates, would endure the Spartan swords more easily than your wife's reproaches."

"I confess it, Diotima," said Socrates; "nor do I know a harder trial than the reproaches of a woman."

"What would you be, without this terror to discipline you?" continued Diotima. "When you sleep too long, it rouses you; when you neglect your person, it shames you; when you are negligent of fame and honor, it spurs you on to their acquisition. Fame has no trumpet but a woman's mouth; we praise not our own sex, we rather calumniate and diminish them. But who of you would resign the good opinion of women in the city? Is it not that which sustains Pericles? The people long ago would have ostracised him, but for the women's voice in his favor. Do you then doubt their power of persuasion, do you doubt their eloquence, who are able to banish you from the city, or exalt you to be its head? whom demagogues consult before they persuade the people, and whom the very gods must take care to please, or their shrines will be deserted?"

"A vain dispute, Diotima," said Lysis, "when matter of fact is turned into matter of opinion. I am fond of knowing the fact, I care not for the opinion or the probabilities. Euripides must yield to the fact,

"You mistake my vocation, Lysis," rejoined the dramatist, rather sharply. "My fables have a meaning; you will not forget that, I think."

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'Your fables are like a hollow earthen figure full of sweetmeats," said Meton: "the figure is vile, the contents excellent." "Pray, sir," said Euripides, turning sharply upon the parasite, "be a little more careful of your wit; you flourish it indiscreetly."

Meton, who lay next below, rolled himself awkwardly to the bottom of the couch, which was a long one, as if afraid Euripides would strike him, and with a face of well-feigned terror called out to Socrates to protect him against this wicked fellow, who had put so many innocent people to death in cold blood. See," said he, "how he glares at me with those gray eyes, like a cat in a corner. Now if he had but his style with him and a tablet, I doubt not he would put us all instantly to death in blank verse, a death I desire not to die; for look you, all his heroes die twice,-first when he kills them in his fury, and again when they are forgotten by the Athenians. Zeus defend us, we shall all be hissed!"

"I wonder, Diotima," said the dramatist, growing extremely angry, "you will suffer this rascal at your table: he is one of these rude dogs, who bites more than he favors. I would have a parasite remember his duty, and use a discretion in his talk. A common fly is endurable, but a breeze with a sting in its tail we wish among the dogs, and not at our banquets." Diotima made no reply, but cast a reproving look upon the parasite, which put him

to silence.

"I was saying, Lysis," continued the dramatist, making an effort to smother his anger, "that the fables of my dramas, though they be popular traditions and void of truth, are made more profitable than true histories, by my manner of employing them. Esop's beasts utter much wisdom; my heroes, though they be phantasms and foolish puppets at best, are turned into philosophical oracles. My women set forth the loves and the duties of a woman; silly wretches though they be. The hero of a drama may be a very

ject of pity, but he is none the less useful to speak wise sentences to the people. Understand me: when I bring an old hero in rags upon the stage, I first interest the audience in his story. Of all things, you know, the story of a ragged, wretched old fellow, a mixture of the sage and niggard, is the most entertaining, and excites most attention: we hear him for pity, and believe him for his misery's sake, just as we believe dying drunkards when they describe the evils that follow drinking.

"Another principle I wish you to observe, is evident in the construction of my plays. They are very pathetic, and in this way I make them so. I am assured first, in my own mind, that the mass of men and women love pleasure as much as they fear death, and would nearly as soon die as not be gratified in their wishes. Observe what a reverence they show for those pious jugglers who come to us from Egypt and the East, following about an image of Cybele in a little cart drawn by bullocks. These wretches gash themselves with knives, and thrust thorns and splinters into their flesh in honor of their goddess. Now this observation will convince you that to interest an audience in a female character, however mean it be in other particulars, you need only resort to this beggar's trick: make them deny themselves for the sake of a god, or a husband, or a brother, or a lover; let them voluntarily expose themselves to death to save some worthless life, garnishing their exit with lamentations for the pleasures they resign, the bridal couch, food, the light of day, the common rest of life; and trust me, you shall not fail,—despite of a bad fable, a wretched style, mean sentiments, and dry philosophy. They will not stay to inquire probability, or question the vanity of the procedure-enough that here is a character who is able to torture itself for pity's sake-and the people will hear and applaud."

"Your secret is ingenious, I think," said Lysis, "and founded in nature, if we may judge by its great success; but you add to all this a simplicity and elegance of style, in which you are without a rival. To tell you honestly, I detest your heroes, and admire the author;-they are to me no more than infatuated women, and wretched

old men; the first uttering sentiments full of tenderness, but certainly inconsistent with their actions; the others full of wisdom and of meanness."

"Well, so be it," replied Euripides, "so long as you see my art and its happy effects."

"I am reminded by this conversation," said Socrates, "of a story which my nurse used to relate to me when I was a child. By often listening to the story, I got it nearly by heart, in her way of telling it; if, then, you observe any traces of rusticity in the language or in the sentiments, attribute them to their proper source. It has not been given me to relate stories with the grace of Agatho, or the pathos of Euripides; but if a plain, unvarnished tale can give you pleasure, I shall be well content to allow to others the glory of their art of adornment."

Then, when all appeared desirous of hearing it, Socrates related the story of

THE PASSIONATE LOVERS.

In the city of Corinth, because of its flourishing commerce, there have been, time out of mind, rich men of mean extraction, who have risen to great reputation by force of their wealth and enterprise. Among these, however, there have also been a few noble families, who pretended to a very ancient lineage, tracing their parentage as far even as the days of Atreus, when the deities were still accustomed, as of old, to converse with mortals. Of these nobles, none was prouder, or more boastful of his origin, than the old man Agathon, whose daughter Lucia, the child of his dotage, inherited her father's nobleness of person, but not his pride or hardness of soul. The mother of Lucia, sharp-visaged dame Canopa, was of Thracian origin, a woman of a lofty and resolute temper, but avaricious and inhuman in her dealings

attire, many sons of wealthy merchants, attracted by her beauty, made her offers of marriage, but were always rejected with insult by Agathon, who had resolved that his daughter should marry none but a descendant of the deities. For this prospect he neglected all the promises. of wealth that were held out to him; and being troubled by the importunities of young men, and vexed with their gay manners and youthful insolence, he commanded Lucia to appear no more in public, but to remain constantly in her chamber.

In the lives of some men there are, as I think, to be seen the marks of a Divine retribution extended over all their actions. Heaven had not looked kindly on the pride and hardness of Agathon and his dame, but had left them in a deserved and despised poverty. And when the old man, to better his condition, solicited the votes of the citizens to raise him to offices of trust, for which by nature he was well fitted, rumors would get about, on the days previous to election, of his unkindness to his daughter, and people reasoned with themselves that a man who could so vilely forget the office of father and abuse the trust of Heaven, would not be likely to fill any human office with justice.

On one occasion, however, it happened that being on a voyage returning from the island of Crete, whither Agathon had gone to look after an estate which he thought might have fallen to him by the death of a relation, and having taken his wife and daughter with him, because he dared not leave them at home, exposed to the insults of the loose Corinthian youth, the old man found on an island, where his vessel touched for water, a young Athenian, who had been shipwrecked there, and who was miserably subsisting upon roots and wild fruit-the island being an uninhabited rock, covered with a scanty shrubbery. The castaway, whose name was Cleon, offered himself to Agathon as his slave for two years, if he would take him off the island; for such was the inhumanity of the old man's countenance, it seemed impossible to move him to any thing without some vast reward. Cleon, though he was a man of good family and elegantly accomplished, had acquired, through great misfortune and abuse, an humility and gentle