No More Learning

assure you I have suffered from his words, and suffer still ; for when I hear him speak my heart leaps up far more than the hearts of those who celebrate the Corybantic mysteries ; my tears are poured out as he talks, a thing I have often seen happen to many others besides myself. I have heard Pericles and other excellent orators, and have been pleased with their discourses, but I suffered nothing of this kind; nor was my soul ever on those occasions disturbed and filled with self- reproach, as if it were slavishly laid prostrate. But this Marsyas here has often affected me in the way I describe, until the life which I lived seemed hardly worth living. Do not deny it, Socrates ; for I know well that if even now I chose to listen to you, I could not resist, but should again suffer the same effects. For, my friends, he forces me to confess that while I myself am still in need of many things, I neglect my own necessities and attend to those of the Athenians. I stop my ears, therefore, as from the Sirens, and flee away as fast as possible, that I may not sit down beside him, and grow old in listening to his talk. For this man has reduced me to feel the sentiment of shame, which I imagine no one would readily believe was in me. For I feel in his presence my incapacity of refuting what he says or of refusing to do that which he directs : but when I depart from him the glory which the mul titude confers overwhelms me. I escape therefore and hide myself from him, and when I see him I am overwhelmed with humiliation, because I have neglected to do what I have con fessed to him ought to be done : and often and often have I wished that he were no longer to be seen among men. But if that were to happen I well know that I should suffer far greater pain ; so that where I can turn, or what I can do with this man I know not. All this have I and many others suffered from the pipings of this satyr.
And observe how like he is to what I said, and what a wonderful power he possesses. Know that there is not one of you who is aware of the real nature of Socrates ; but since I have begun, I will make him plain to you. . You observe how passionately Socrates affects the intimacy of those who are beautiful, and how ignorant he professes himself to be, appear ances in themselves excessively Silenic. This, my friends, is the external form with which, like one of the sculptured Sileni, he has clothed himself; for if you open him you will find within admirable temperance and wisdom. For he cares not
ALCIBIADES' ACCOUNT OF SOCRATES.
83
for mere beauty, but despises more than any one can imagine all external possessions, whether it be beauty, or wealth, or glory, or any other thing for which the multitude felicitates the possessor. He esteems these things, and us who honor them, as nothing, and lives among men, making all the objects of their admiration the playthings of his irony. But I know not if any one of you have ever seen the divine images which are within, when he has been opened, and is serious. I have seen them, and they are so supremely beautiful, so golden, so divine, and wonderful, that everything that Socrates commands surely ought to be obeyed, even like the voice of a god.
*******
At one time we were fellow-soldiers, and had our mess together in the camp before Potidaea. Socrates there overcame not only me, but every one beside, in endurance of evils : when, as often happens in a campaign, we were reduced to few provi sions, there were none who could sustain hunger like Socrates ; and when we had plenty, he alone seemed to enjoy our military fare. He never drank much willingly, but when he was com pelled, he conquered all even in that to which he was least accustomed : and, what is most astonishing, no person ever saw Socrates drunk either then or at any other time. In the depth of winter (and the winters there are excessively rigid) he sus tained calmly incredible hardships : and amongst other things, whilst the frost was intolerably severe, and no one went out of their tents, or if they went out, wrapped themselves up care fully, and put fleeces under their feet, and bound their legs with hairy skins, Socrates went out only with the same cloak on that he usually wore, and walked barefoot upon the ice : more easily, indeed, than those who had sandaled themselves so delicately : so that the soldiers thought that he did it to mock their want of fortitude. It would indeed be worth while to commemorate all that this brave man did and endured in that expedition. In one instance he was seen early in the morning, standing in one place, wrapt in meditation ; and as he seemed unable to unravel the subject of his thoughts, he still continued to stand as inquiring and discussing within him self, and when noon came, the soldiers observed him, and said to one another — " Socrates has been standing there thinking, ever since the morning. " At last some Ionians came to the spot, and having supped, as it was summer, they lay down to
84 ALCIBIADES' ACCOUNT OF SOCRATES.
sleep in the cool : they observed that Socrates continued to stand there the whole night until morning, and that, when the sun rose, he saluted it with a prayer and departed.
I ought not to omit what Socrates is in battle. For in that battle after which the generals decreed to me the prize of courage, Socrates alone of all men was the savior of my life, standing by me when I had fallen and was wounded, and pre serving both myself and my arms from the hands of the enemy. On that occasion I entreated the generals to decree the prize, as it was most due, to him. And this, O Socrates, you cannot deny, that when the generals, wishing to conciliate a person of my rank, desired to give me the prize, you were far more ear nestly desirous than the generals that this glory should be attributed not to yourself, but me.
But to see Socrates when our army was defeated and scat tered in flight at Delium was a spectacle worthy to behold. On that occasion I was among the cavalry, and he on foot, heavily armed. After the total rout of our troops, he and Laches retreated together; I came up by chance, and seeing them, bade them be of good cheer, for that I would not leave them. As I was on horseback, and therefore less occupied by a regard of my own situation, I could better observe than at Potidaea the beautiful spectacle exhibited by Socrates on this emergency. How superior was he to Laches in presence of mind and courage ! Your representation of him on the stage, O Aristophanes, was not wholly unlike his real self on this occasion, for he walked and darted his regards around with a majestic composure, looking tranquilly both on his friends and enemies : so that it was evident to every one, even from afar, that whoever should venture to attack him would encounter a desperate resistance. He and his companions thus departed in safety : for those who are scattered in flight are pursued and killed, whilst men hesitate to touch those who exhibit such a countenance as that of Socrates even in defeat.
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES. B. C. 399.
85
[Plato, the great Greek philosopher, was born in or near Athens, b. o. 429, the year of Pericles' death. His name was Aristocles ; Plato ("Broady ") was a nickname, probably from his figure. He began to write poems ; but after meeting Socrates at twenty he burnt them, became Socrates' disciple for ten years, and was with him at his trial and death. Afterwards he traveled widely, and settled at Athens as a teacher of philosophy ; among his pupils was Aris totle. His "Dialogues" are still the noblest body of philosophical thought in existence, and of matchless literary beauty. Emerson says, " Out of Plato come all things that are still written and debated among men of thought. . . . Plato is philosophy, and philosophy Plato. "]
I.
Socrates, on the eve of his trialfor impiety, wishes to show that the popular notions about piety and impiety, or holiness and unholiness, will not bear testing.
Euthyphron — What in the world are you doing here at the archon's porch, Socrates ? Why have you left your haunts in the Lyceum ? You surely cannot have an action before him, as I have. —
(From the " Euthyphron " and the " Apology " of Plato : translated by F. J. Church. )
Socrates
cution, not an action.
Nay, the Athenians, Euthyphron, call it a prose
Euthyphron — What ? Do you mean that some one is prose cuting you? I cannot believe that you are prosecuting any one yourself.
Socrates — Certainly I am not.
Euthyphron — Then is some one prosecuting you ?
Socrates —Yes.
Euthyphron — Who is he ?
Socrates — I scarcely know him myself, Euthyphron; I
think he must be some unknown young man. His name, how ever, is Meletus, and his deme Pitthis, if you can call to mind any Meletus of that deme, — a hook-nosed man with long hair, and a rather scanty beard.
Euthyphron — I don't know him, Socrates. But, tell me, what is he prosecuting you for ?
Socrates — What for ? Not on trivial grounds, I think. It is no small thing for so young a man to have formed an opinion on such an important matter. For he, he says, knows how the
86
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
young are corrupted, and who are their corrupters. He must be a wise man, who, observing my ignorance, is going to accuse me to the city, as his mother, of corrupting his friends. I think that he is the only man who begins at the right point in his
I mean whose first care is to make the young men as perfect as possible, just as a good farmer will take care of his young plants first, and, after he has done that, of the
political reforms :
others. And so Meletus, I suppose, is first clearing us off, who, as he says, corrupt the young men as they grow up ; and then, when he has done that, of course he will turn his attention to the older men, and so become a very great public benefactor. Indeed, that is only what you would expect, when he goes to work in this way.
Euthyphron — I hope it may be so, Socrates, but I have very grave doubts about it. It seems to me that in trying to injure you, he is really setting to work by striking a blow at the heart of the state. But how, tell me, does he say that you corrupt the youth ? —
Socrates In a way which sounds strange at first, my friend. He says that I am a maker of gods ; and so he is prosecuting me, he says, for inventing new gods, and for not believing in
the old ones. — I understand, Socrates. It is because you Euthyphron
say that you always have a divine sign. So he is prosecuting you for introducing novelties into religion ; and he is going into court knowing that such matters are easily misrepresented to the multitude, and consequently meaning to slander you there. Why, they laugh even me to scorn, as if I were out of my mind, when I talk about divine things in the assembly, and tell them what is going to happen : and yet I have never fore told anything which has not come true. But they are jealous of all people like us. We must not think about them : we must meet them boldly.
Socrates — My dear Euthyphron, their ridicule is not a very serious matter. The Athenians, it seems to me, may think a man to be clever without paying him much attention, so long as they do not think that he teaches his wisdom to others. But as soon as they think that he makes other people clever, they get angry, whether it be from jealousy, as you say, or for some other
reason. — I am not very anxious to try their disposition Euthyphron
towards me in this matter.
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES. 87
Socrates — No, perhaps they think that you seldom show yourself, and that you are not anxious to teach your wisdom to others ; but I fear that they may think that I am ; for my love of men makes me talk to every one whom I meet quite freely and unreservedly, and without payment : indeed, if I could, I would gladly pay people myself to listen to me. If then, as I said just now, they were only going to laugh at me, as you say they do at you, it would not be at all an unpleasant way of spending the day, to spend it in court, jesting and laughing. But if they are going to be in earnest, then only prophets like you can tell where the matter will end.
Euthyphron — Well, Socrates, I dare say that nothing will come of it. Very likely you will be successful in your trial, and I think that I shall be in mine.
Socrates — And what is this suit of yours, Euthyphron? Are you suing, or being sued?
Euthyphron — I am suing.
Socrates — Whom ?
Euthyphron — A man whom I am thought a maniac to be
suing. — Socrates
What ? Has he wings to fly away with ? Euthyphron — He is far enough from flying ; he is a very
old man. — Socrates
Who is he ? Euthyphron — He is my father.
[Then Euthyphron having stated that he was prosecuting his father for having murdered a slave, Socrates asks him to define holiness. Euthyphron becomes entangled, and Socrates points out that he has not answered his question. He does not want a particular example of holiness. He wants to know what that is which makes all holy actions holy. Euthyphron, at length, defines holiness as "that which is pleasing to the gods. " But Socrates, by a series of apparently innocent ques tions, compels Euthyphron to admit the absurdity of his defini tion. Euthyphron has no better fortune with a second and third definition, and he passes from a state of patronizing self- complacency to one of puzzled confusion and deeply offended pride. ]
—
I do not mean to give in until I have found out.
Then we must begin again, and inquire what is
Socrates holiness.
Do not deem me unworthy ; give your whole mind to the question, and this time tell me the truth. For if any one
88
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
knows it, it is you ; and you are a Proteus whom I must not let go until you have told me. It cannot be that you would ever have undertaken to prosecute your aged father for the murder of a laboring man unless you had known exactly what is holiness and unholiness. You would have feared to risk the anger of the gods, in case you should be doing wrong, and you would have been afraid of what men would say. But now I am sure that you think that you know exactly what is holiness and what is not ; so tell me, my excellent Euthyphron, and do not conceal from me what you hold it to be.
Socrates — What are you doing, my friend ! Will you go away and destroy all my hopes of learning from you what is holy and what is not, and so of escaping Meletus ? I meant to explain to him that now Euthyphron has made me wise about divine things, and that I no longer in my ignorance speak rashly about them or introduce novelties in them ; and then I was going to promise him to live a better life for the future.
II.
Socrates defends himself before the Athenians.
Socrates — I cannot tell what impression my accusers have made upon you, Athenians : for my own part, I know that they nearly made me forget who I was, so plausible were they ; and yet they have scarcely uttered one single word of truth. But of all their many falsehoods, the one which astonished me most, was when they said that I was a clever speaker, and that you must be careful not to let me mislead you. I thought that it was most impudent of them not to be ashamed to talk in that way ; for as soon as I open my mouth the lie will be exposed, and I shall prove that I am not a clever speaker in any way at all : unless, indeed, by a clever speaker they mean a man who speaks the truth. If that is their meaning, I agree with them that I am a much greater orator than they. My accusers, then I repeat, have said little or nothing that is true ; but from me you shall hear the whole truth. Certainly you will not hear an elaborate speech, Athenians, drest up, like theirs, with
words and phrases. I will say to you what I have to say,
Euthyphron — Another time, then, Socrates. I am in a hurry now, and it is time for me to be off.
The Gospels of Kino, Canute. (Eleventh Century. )
The handsome MS. from which the plate is taken is nniong the more notable of the MSS. in the Royal collection in the British Museum. It consists of 150 leaves of vellum, measuring 13^ x io! ^ inches, and in a full page comprises twenty-six lines. The hand in which it is written is a firm set Saxon, strongly tinctured with the Caroline minuscule.
The Gospels of King Canute. (Eleventh Century. )
The handsome MS. from which the Plate is taken is preserved amongst the Royal MSS. in the British Museum. It consists of 150 leaves of vellum measuring 13J by 10J inches.
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES. 89
without preparation, and in the words which come first, for I believe that my cause is just ; so let none of you expect anything else. Indeed, my friends, it would hardly be seemly for me, at my age, to come before you like a young man with his specious falsehoods. But there is one thing, Athenians, which I do most earnestly beg and entreat of you. Do not be surprised and do not interrupt, if in my defense I speak in the same way that I am accustomed to speak in the market place, at the tables of the money changers, where many of you have heard me, and elsewhere. The truth is this. I am more than seventy years old, and this is the first time that I have ever come before a Court of Law ; so your manner of speech here is quite strange to me. If I had been really a stranger, you would have forgiven me for speaking in the language and the fashion of my native country : and so now I ask you to grant me what I think I have a right to claim. Never mind the style of my speech — it may be better or it may be worse — give your whole attention to the question, Is what I say just, or is it not ? That is what makes a good judge, as speaking the truth makes a good advocate.
I have to defend myself, Athenians, first against the old false charges of my old accusers, and then against the later ones of my present accusers. For many men have been accus ing me to you, and for very many years, who have not uttered a word of truth : and I fear them more than I fear Anytus and his companions, formidable as they are. But, my friends, those others are still more formidable ; for they got hold of most of you when you were children, and they have been more persistent in accusing me with lies, and in trying to persuade you that there is one Socrates, a wise man, who speculates about the heavens, and who examines into all things that are beneath the earth, and who can " make the worse appear the better reason. "
These men, Athenians, who spread abroad this report, are the accusers whom I fear ; for their hearers think that persons who pursue such inquiries never believe in the gods. And then they are many, and their attacks have been going on for a long time : and they spoke to you when you were at the age most readily to believe them : for you were all young, and many of you were children : and there was no one to answer them when they attacked me. And the most unreasonable thing of all is that commonly I do not even know their names :
90 THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
I cannot tell you who they are, except in the case of the comic poets.
But all the rest who have been trying to prejudice you against me, from motives of spite and jealousy, and sometimes, it may be, from conviction, are the enemies whom it is hardest to meet. For I cannot call any one of them forward in Court,
I have, as it were, simply to fight with
to cross-examine him :
shadows in my defense, and to put questions which there is no one to answer. I ask you, therefore, to believe that, as I say, I have been attacked by two classes of accusers —first by Meletus and his friends, and then by those older ones of whom I have spoken. And, with your leave, I will defend myself first against my old enemies ; for you heard their accusations first, and they were much more persistent than my present accusers are.
Well, I must make my defense, Athenians, and try in the short time allowed me to remove the prejudice which you have had against me for a long time.
Let us begin again, then, and see what is the charge which has given rise to the prejudice against me, which was what Meletus relied on when he drew his indictment. What is the calumny which my enemies have been spreading about me? I must assume that they are formally accusing me, and read their indictment. It would run somewhat in this fashion : —
" Socrates is an evil doer, who meddles with inquiries into things beneath the earth, and in heaven, and who ' makes the worse appear the better reason,' and who teaches others these same things. "
That is what they say ; and in the Comedy of Aristophanes you yourselves saw a man called Socrates swinging round in a basket, and saying that he walked the air, and talking a great deal of nonsense about matters of which I understand nothing, either more or less. I do not mean to disparage that kind of knowledge, if there is any man who possesses it. I trust Meletus may never be able to prosecute me for that. But, the truth is, Athenians, I have nothing to do with these matters, and almost all of you are yourselves my witnesses of this. I beg all of you who have ever heard me converse, and they are many, to inform your neighbors and tell them if any of you have ever heard me conversing about such matters, either more or less. That will show you that the other common stories about me are as false as this one.
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES. 91
[He is accused of being at once a wicked sophist who exacts money for teaching and a natural philosopher. He distin guishes these characters, and shows that he is neither. He is unpopular because he has taken on himself the duty of examin ing men, in consequence of a certain answer given by the Delphic oracle, "that he was the wisest of men. " He describes the examination of men which he undertook to test the truth of the oracle. This has gained him much hatred : men do not like to be proved ignorant when they think themselves wise,
What I have said must suffice as my defense against the charges of my first accusers. " I will try next to defend myself against that " good patriot Meletus, as he calls himself, and my later accusers. Let us assume that they are a new set of accusers, and read their indictment, as we did in the case of the others. It runs thus.
He says that Socrates is an evil doer who corrupts the youth, and who does not believe in the gods whom the city believes in, but in other new divinities. Such is the charge.
Let us examine each point in it separately. Meletus says that I do wrong by corrupting the youth : but I say, Athenians, that he is doing wrong ; for he is playing off a solemn jest by bringing men lightly to trial, and pretending to have a great zeal and interest in matters to which he has never given a moment's thought. And now I will try to prove to you that it is so.
Come here, Meletus. Is it not a fact that you think it very important that the younger men should be as excellent as possible ?
Meletus — It is.
Socrates — Come then : tell the judges, who is it who im proves them ? You take so much interest in the matter that of course you know that. You are accusing me, and bringing me to trial, because, as you say, you have discovered that I am the corrupter of the youth. Come now, reveal to the judges who improves them. You see, Meletus, you have noth ing to say ; you are silent. But don't you think that this is a scandalous thing? Is not your silence a conclusive proof of what I say, that you have never given a moment's thought to the matter? Come, tell us, my good sir, who makes the young men better citizens?
and so they call him a sophist and every kind of bad name besides, because he exposes their pretense of knowledge. ]
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
92
Socrates — My excellent sir, that is not my question. What man improves the young, who starts with a knowledge of the laws?
Meletus — The judges here, Socrates.
Socrates — What do you mean, Meletus ? Can they educate the young and improve them ?
Meletus — Certainly.
Socrates — All of them? or only some of them?
Meletus — All of them.
Socrates — By H6r§ that is good news ? There is a great
abundance of benefactors. And do the listeners here improve them, or not ?
Meletus — They do.
Socrates — And do the senators?
Meletus — Yes.
Socrates — Well then, Meletus, do the members of the
Assembly corrupt the younger men ? or do they again all im prove them?
Socrates — Then all the Athenians, apparently, make the young into fine fellows except me, and I alone corrupt them. Is that your meaning ?
Socrates — You have discovered me to be a most unfortunate man. Now tell me : do you think that the same holds good in the case of horses ? Does one man do them harm and every one else improve them ? On the contrary, is it not one man only, or a very few — namely, those who are skilled in horses — who can improve them ; while the majority of men harm them, if they use them, and have to do with them ? Is it not so, Mele tus, both with horses and with every other animal ? Of course it is, whether you and Anytus say yes or no. And young men would certainly be very fortunate persons if only one man cor rupted them, and every one else did them good. The truth is, Meletus, you prove conclusively that you have never thought about the youth in your life. It is quite clear, on your own showing, that you take no interest at all in the matters about which you are prosecuting me.
[He proves that it is absurd to say that he corrupts the
young intentionally, and if he corrupts them unintentionally, the law does not call upon Meletus to prosecute him for an
Meletus — The laws.
Meletus — They too improve them.
Meletus — Most certainly ; that is my meaning.
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES. 98
involuntary fault. With regard to the charge of teaching young men not to believe in the gods of the city, he cross- examines Meletus and involves him in several contradictions. ]
But in truth, Athenians, I do not think that I need say very much to prove that I have not committed the crime for which Meletus is prosecuting me. What I have said is enough to prove that. But, I repeat, it is certainly true, as I have al ready told you, that I have incurred much unpopularity and made many enemies. And that is what will cause my condem nation, if I am condemned ; not Meletus, nor Anytus either, but the prejudice and suspicion of the multitude. They have been the destruction of many good men before me, and I think that they will be so again. There is no fear that I shall be their last victim.
Perhaps some one will say : "Are you not ashamed, Socrates, of following pursuits which are very likely now to cause your death? " I should answer him with justice, and say: "My friend, if you think that a man of any worth at all ought to reckon the chances of life and death when he acts, or that he ought to think of anything but whether he is acting rightly or wrongly, and as a good or a bad man would act, you are griev ously mistaken. " According to you, the demigods who died at Troy would be men of no great worth, and among them the son of Thetis, who thought nothing of danger when the alter native was disgrace. For when his mother, a goddess, ad dressed him, as he was burning to slay Hector, I suppose in this fashion, " My son, if thou avengest the death of thy com rade Patroclus, and slayest Hector, thou wilt die thyself, for ' Fate awaits thee straightway after Hector's death ; ' " he heard what she said, but he scorned danger and death; he feared much more to live a coward, and not to avenge his friend. " Let me punish the evil doer and straightway die," he said, " that I may not remain here by the beaked ships, a scorn of men, en cumbering the earth. " Do you suppose that he thought of danger or of death? For this, Athenians, I believe to be the truth. Wherever a man's post is, whether he has chosen it of his own will, or whether he has been placed at it by his com mander, there it is his duty to remain and face the danger, without thinking of death, or of any other thing, except dis honor.
When the generals whom you chose to command me, Athe nians, placed me at my post at Potidaea, and at Amphipolis, and
94 THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
at Delium, I remained where they placed me, and ran the risk of death, like other men : and it would be very strange conduct on my part if I were to desert my post now from fear of death or of any other thing, when God has commanded me, as I am persuaded that he has done, to spend my life in searching for wisdom, and in examining myself and others. That would in deed be a very strange thing : and then certainly I might with justice be brought to trial for not believing in the gods : for I should be disobeying the oracle, and fearing death, and thinking myself wise, when I was not wise. For to fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise : for it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, death may be the greatest good that can happen to them : but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils. And what is this but that shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know ? In this matter too, my friends, perhaps I am different from the mass of mankind : and if I were to claim to be at all wiser than others, it would be because I do not think that I have any clear knowledge about the other world, when, in fact, I have none. But I do know very well that it is evil and base to do wrong, and to disobey my superior, whether he be man or god. And I will never do what I know to be evil, and shrink in fear from what, for all that I can tell, may be a good. And so, even if you acquit me now, and do not listen to Anytus' argument that, if I am to be acquitted, I ought never to have been brought to trial at all ; and that, as it is, you are bound to put me to death, because, as he said, if I escape, all your children will forthwith be utterly corrupted by practicing what Socrates teaches ; if you were therefore to say to me, " Socrates, this time we will not listen to Anytus : we will let you go ; but on this condition, that you cease from carrying on this search of yours, and from philosophy ; " if you are found following those pursuits again, you shall die : I say, if you offered to let me go on these terms, I should reply: "Athenians, I hold you in the highest regard and love ; but I will obey God rather than you : and as long as I have breath and strength I will not cease from philosophy, and from exhorting you, and declaring the truth to every one of you whom I meet, saying, as I am wont, ' My excellent friend, you are a citizen of Athens, a city which is very great and very famous for wisdom and power of mind ; are you not ashamed of caring so much for the making of money,
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
95
and for reputation, and for honor ? Will you not think or care about wisdom, and truth, and the perfection of your soul ? ' "
And if he disputes my words, and says that he does care about these things, I shall not forthwith release him and go away: I shall question him and cross-examine him and test him : and if I think that he has not virtue, though he says that he has, I shall reproach him for setting the lower value on the most important things, and a higher value on those that are of less account. This I shall do to every one whom I meet, young or old, citizen or stranger : but more especially to the citizens, for they are more nearly akin to me.
For, know well, God has commanded me to do so. And I think that no better piece of fortune has ever befallen you in Athens than my service to God. For I spend my whole life in going about and persuading you all to give your first and chiefest care to the perfection of your souls, and not till you have done that to think of your bodies, or your wealth ; and telling you that virtue does not come from wealth, but that wealth, and every other good thing which men have, whether in public, or in private, comes from virtue. If then I corrupt the youth by this teaching, the mischief is great : but if any man says that I teach anything else, he speaks falsely. And therefore, Athe nians, I say, either listen to Anytus, or do not listen to him : either acquit me, or do not acquit me : but be sure that I shall notaltermywayoflife; no,notifIhavetodieforitmany times.
[If the Athenians put him to death, they will harm them selves more than him. The city is like a great and noble horse rendered sluggish by its size and needing to be roused. He was the gadfly sent by God to attack it. He explains why he has not taken part in public life. If he had done so, he would have perished without benefiting the city, because no one could make him do wrong through fear of death. His con duct on two occasions shows this. ]
Well, my friends, this, together it may be with other things of the same nature, is pretty much what I have to say in my defense. There may be some one among you who will be vexed when he remembers how, even in a less important trial than this, he prayed and entreated the judges to acquit him with many tears, and brought forward his children and many of his friends and relatives in Court, in order to appeal to your feelings ; and then finds that I shall do none of these things,
96
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
though I am in what he would think the supreme danger. Perhaps he will harden himself against me when he notices this : it may make him angry, and he may give his vote in anger. If it is so with any of you — I do not suppose that it is, but in case it should be so — I think that I should answer him reasonably if I said : —
"My friend, I have kinsmen too, for, in the words of Homer, ' I am not born of stocks and stones,' but of woman ; " and so, Athenians, I have kinsmen, and I have three sons, one of them a lad, and the other two still children. Yet I will not bring any of them forward before you, and implore you to acquit me.
And why will I do none of these things? It is not from arrogance, Athenians, nor because I hold you cheap : whether or no I can face death bravely is another question : but for my own credit, and for your credit, and for the credit of our city, I do not think it well, at my age, and with my name, to do any thing of that kind. Rightly or wrongly, men have made up their minds that in some way Socrates is different from the mass of mankind. And it will be a shameful thing if those of you who are thought to excel in wisdom, or in bravery, or in any other virtue, are going to act in this fashion. I have often seen men with a reputation behaving in a strange way at their trial, as if they thought it a terrible fate to be killed, and as if they expected to live forever, if you did not put them to death. Such men seem to me to bring discredit on the city : for any stranger would suppose that the best and most eminent Athe nians, who are selected by their fellow-citizens to hold office, and for other honors, are no better than women. Those of you, Athenians, who have any reputation at all, ought not to do these things : and you ought not to allow us to do them : you should show that you will be much more merciless to men who make the city ridiculous by these pitiful pieces of acting, than
to men who remain quiet.
But apart from the question of credit, my friends, I do not
think that it is right to entreat the judge to acquit us, or to escape condemnation in that way. It is our duty to convince his mind by reason. He does not sit to give away justice to his friends, but to pronounce judgment : and he has sworn not to favor any man whom he would like to favor, but to decide questions according to law. And therefore we ought not to teach you to forswear yourselves ; and you ought not to allow
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES. 97
yourselves to be taught, for then neither you nor we would be acting righteously. Therefore, Athenians, do not require me to do these things, for I believe them to be neither good nor just nor holy ; and, more especially, do not ask me to do them to-day, when Meletus is prosecuting me for impiety. For were I to be successful, and to prevail on you by my prayers to break your oaths, I should be clearly teaching you to believe that there are no gods ; and I should be simply accusing my self by my defense of not believing in them. But, Athenians, that is very far from the truth. I do believe in the gods as no one of my accusers believes in them : and to you and to God I commit my cause to be decided as is best for you and for me.
(He is found guilty by 281 votes to 220. )
I am not vexed at the verdict which you have given, Athe nians, for many reasons. I expected that you would find me guilty ; and I am not so much surprised at that, as at the numbers of the votes. I, certainly, never thought that the majority against me would have been so narrow. But now it seems that if only thirty votes had changed sides, I should have escaped.
[Meletus proposes the penalty of death. The law allows a convicted criminal to propose an alternative penalty instead. As he is a public benefactor, Socrates thinks that he ought to have a public maintenance in the Prytaneum, like an Olympic victor. Seriously, why should he propose a penalty? He is sure that he has done no wrong. He does not know whether death is a good or an evil. Why should he propose something that he knows to be an evil? Indeed, payment of a fine would be no evil, but then he has no money to pay a fine with ; perhaps he can make up one mina (about twenty dollars) : that is his proposal. Or, if his friends wish it, he offers thirty minae, and his friends will be sureties for payment. ]
(He is condemned to death. )
You have not gained very much time, Athenians, and, as the price of it, you will have an evil name from all who wish to revile the city, and they will cast in your teeth that you put Socrates, a wise man, to death. For they will certainly call me wise, whether I am wise or not, when they want to reproach you. If you would have waited for a little while, your wishes
would have been fulfilled in the course of nature ; for you see TOL. IT. —7
98 THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
that I am an old man, far advanced in years, and near to death. I am speaking not to all of you, only to those who have voted for my death. And now I am speaking to them still. Perhaps, my friends, you think that I have been defeated because I was wanting in the arguments by which I could have persuaded you to acquit me, that is, had thought right to do or to say anything to escape punishment.
It not so. have been defeated because was wanting, not in arguments, but in overboldness and effrontery because would not plead before you as you would have liked to hear me plead, or appeal to you with weeping and wailing, or say
and do many other things, which maintain are unworthy of me, but which you have been accustomed to from other men. But when was defending myself, thought that ought not to do anything unmanly because of the danger which ran, and
have not changed my mind now. would very much rather defend myself as did, and die, than as you would have had me do, and live. Both in lawsuit, and in war, there are some things which neither nor any other man may do in order to escape from death. In battle man often sees that he may at least escape from death by throwing down his arms and falling on his knees before the pursuer to beg for his life. And there are many other ways of avoiding death in every danger, man will not scruple to say and to do anything.
But, my friends, think that much harder thing to escape from wickedness than from death for wickedness swifter than death. And now who am old and slow, have been overtaken by the slower pursuer and my accusers, who are clever and swift, have been overtaken by the swifter pur suer, which wickedness. And now shall go hence, sen tenced by you to death and they will go hence, sentenced by truth to receive the penalty of wickedness and evil. And abide by this award as well as they. Perhaps was right for these things to be so: and think that they are fairly measured.
And now wish to prophesy to you, Athenians who have condemned me. For am going to die, and that the time when men have most prophetic power. And prophesy to you who have sentenced me to death, that far severer punishment than you have inflicted on me, will surely overtake you as soon as am dead. You have done this thing, thinking that you will be relieved from having to give an account of your lives. But
I
II
I
is
;
I I
is
I
if, II
I a
I,
it
I
I
I Iis
;
I
a
I I
is I: a
I
it II
:
if a
a
is I
it
THE TRIAL OF SOCRATES.
99
say that the result will be very different from that. There will be more men who will call you to account, whom I have held back, and whom you did not see. And they will be harder masters to you than I have been, for they will be younger, and you will be more angry with them. For if you think that you will restrain men from reproaching you for your evil lives by putting them to death, you are very much mistaken. That way of escape is hardly possible, and it is not a good one. It is much better, and much easier, not to silence reproaches, but to make yourselves as perfect as you can. This is my parting prophecy to you who have condemned me.
[Having sternly rebuked those who have condemned him, he bids those who have acquitted him to be of good cheer. No harm can come to a good man in life or in death. Death is either an eternal and dreamless sleep, wherein there is no sen sation at all ; or it is a journey to another and better world, where are the famous men of old. In either case it is not an evil, but a good. ]
And you too, judges, must face death with a good courage, and believe this as a truth, that no evil can happen to a good man, either in life, or after death. His fortunes are not neg lected by the gods ; and what has come to me to-day has not come by chance. I am persuaded that it was better for me to die now, and to be released from trouble : and that was the reason why the sign never turned me back. And so I am hardly angry with my accusers, or with those who have con demned me to die. Yet it was not with this mind that they accused me and condemned me, but meaning to do me an injury. So far I may find fault with them.
Yet I have one request to make of them. When my sons grow up, visit them with punishment, my friends, and vex them in the same way that I have vexed you, if they seem to you to care for riches, or for any other thing, before virtue : and if they think that they are something, when they are nothing at all, reproach them, as I have reproached you, for not caring for what they should, and for thinking that they are great men when in fact they are worthless. And if you will do this, I myself and my sons will have received our deserts at your hands. Ito die,
But now the time has come, and we must go hence ;
and you to live. Whether life or death is better is known to God, and to God only.
A GRECIAN SUNSET.
A GRECIAN SUNSET. By LORD BYRON.
[1788-1824. ]
Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun ;
Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright,
But one unclouded blaze of living light :
O'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws, Gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows. On old jEgina's rock and Hydra's isle
The god of gladness sheds his parting smile :
O'er his own regions lingering loves to shine, Though there his altars are no more divine. Descending fast, the mountain shadows kiss
Thy glorious gulf, unconquered Salamis !
Their azure arches through the long expanse,
More deeply purpled, meet his mellowing glance, And tenderest tints, along their summits driven, Mark his gay course, and own the hues of heaven; Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep, Behind his Delphian rock he sinks to sleep.
On such an eve his palest beam he cast,
When, Athens ! here thy wisest breathed his last. How watched thy better sons his farewell ray, That closed their murdered sage's latest day !
Not yet — not yet — Sol pauses on the hill,
The precious hour of parting lingers still :
But sad his light to agonizing eyes,
And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes ; Gloom o'er the lovely land he seems to pour — The land where Phoebus never frowned before : But ere he sunk below Cithaeron's head,
The cup of woe was quaffed — the spirit fled : The soul of him who scorned to fear or fly,
Who lived and died as none can live or die.
But lo! from high Hymettus to the plain,
The queen of night asserts her silent reign ;
No murky vapor, herald of the storm,
Hides her fair face, or girds her glowing form. With cornice glimmering as the moonbeams play, Where the white column greets her grateful ray,
THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 101
And bright around, with quivering beams beset, Her emblem sparkles o'er the minaret :
The groves of olive scattered dark and wide, Where meek Cephisus sheds his scanty tide, The cypress saddening by the sacred mosque, The gleaming turret of the gay kiosk,
And sad and somber 'mid the holy calm,
Near Theseus' fane, one solitary palm :
All, tinged with varied hues, arrest the eye,
And dull were his who passed them heedless by.
Again the Mgea. n, heard no more from far,
Lulls his chafed breast from elemental war : Again his waves in milder tints unfold
Their long expanse of sapphire and of gold, Mixed with the shades of many a distant isle, That frown, where gentler ocean deigns to smile.
THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. By CICERO.
[Mabcub Tullius Cicbbo, the greatest of Roman orators and perhaps the second of all time, was born b. c. 106, of the nobility. Trained for the bar, his first important case obliged him to go into exile for fear of the dictator Sulla. Returning after Sulla's death, he became the leader of the bar and high in polit ical life ; rose to be consul, b.