Apology
By Plato
(Translated by Benjamin Jowett)
Socrates' Defense
How you have felt, O
men of Athens, at hearing the speeches of my accusers, I cannot tell; but
I know that their persuasive words almost made me forget who I was-- such was
the effect of them; and yet they have hardly spoken a word of truth. But many
as their falsehoods were, there was one of them which quite amazed me-- I
mean when they told you to be upon your guard, and not to let yourselves be
deceived by the force of my eloquence. They
ought to have been ashamed of saying this, because they were sure to be
detected as soon as I opened my lips and displayed my deficiency; they
certainly did appear to be most shameless in saying this, unless by the force
of eloquence they mean the force of truth; for then I do indeed admit that I
am eloquent. But in how different a way from
theirs! Well, as I was saying, they have hardly uttered a word, or not
more than a word, of truth; but you shall hear from me the whole truth: not,
however, delivered after their manner, in a set oration duly ornamented with
words and phrases. No indeed! but I shall use the words and arguments which
occur to me at the moment; for I am certain that this is right, and that at
my time of life I ought not to be appearing before you, O men of Athens, in
the character of a juvenile orator-- let no one expect this of me. And I must
beg of you to grant me one favor, which is this-- If you hear me using the
same words in my defense which I have been in the habit of using, and which
most of you may have heard in the agora, and at the tables of the
money-changers, or anywhere else, I would ask you not to be surprised at
this, and not to interrupt me. For I am more than seventy years of age, and
this is the first time that I have ever appeared in a court of law, and I am
quite a stranger to the ways of the place; and therefore I would have you
regard me as if I were really a stranger, whom you would excuse if he spoke
in his native tongue, and after the fashion of his country-- that I think is
not an unfair request. Never mind the manner, which may or may not be good;
but think only of the justice of my cause, and give heed to that: let the
judge decide justly and the speaker speak truly.
And first, I have to reply to the older charges and to my first accusers, and
then I will go to the later ones. For I have had many accusers, who accused
me of old, and their false charges have continued during many years; and I am
more afraid of them than of Anytus and his associates, who are dangerous, too, in
their own way. But far more dangerous are these, who began when you were
children, and took possession of your minds with their falsehoods, telling
of one Socrates, a wise man, who speculated about the heaven above, and
searched into the earth beneath, and made the worse appear the better cause. These
are the accusers whom I dread; for they are the circulators of this rumor,
and their hearers are too apt to fancy that speculators of this sort do not
believe in the gods. And they are many, and their charges against me are of
ancient date, and they made them in days when you were impressionable-- in childhood, or perhaps in youth-- and the cause when heard went by
default, for there was none to answer. And, hardest of all, their names I do
not know and cannot tell; unless in the chance of a comic poet. But the main
body of these slanderers who from envy and malice have wrought upon you-- and
there are some of them who are convinced themselves, and impart their
convictions to others-- all these, I say, are most difficult to deal with;
for I cannot have them up here, and examine them, and therefore I must simply
fight with shadows in my own defense, and examine when there is no one who
answers. I will ask you then to assume with me, as I was saying, that my
opponents are of two kinds-- one recent, the other ancient; and I hope
that you will see the propriety of my answering the latter first, for these
accusations you heard long before the others, and much oftener.
Well, then, I will make my defense, and I will endeavor in the short time
which is allowed to do away with this evil opinion of me which you have held
for such a long time; and I hope I may succeed, if this be well for you and
me, and that my words may find favor with you. But I know that to accomplish
this is not easy - I quite see the nature of the task. Let the event be as
God wills: in obedience to the law I make my defense.
I will begin at the beginning, and ask what the accusation is which has given
rise to this slander of me, and which has encouraged Meletus
to proceed against me. What do the slanderers say? They shall be my
prosecutors, and I will sum up their words in an affidavit. (The Sophists' Skepticism) "Socrates is an evil-doer,
and a curious person, who searches into things under the earth and in heaven,
and he makes the worse appear the better cause; and he teaches the aforesaid
doctrines to others." [The sophist Anaxagoras actually taught
such skepticism.] That
is the nature of the accusation, and that is what you have seen yourselves in
the
comedy of Aristophanes; who has introduced a man whom he calls Socrates,
going about and saying that he can walk in the air, and talking a deal of
nonsense concerning matters of which I do not pretend to know either much or
little-- not that I mean to say anything disparaging of anyone who is a
student of natural philosophy. I should be very sorry if Meletus could lay that to my
charge. But the simple truth is, O Athenians, that
I have nothing to do with these studies. Very many of those here present
are witnesses to the truth of this, and to them I appeal. Speak then, you who
have heard me, and tell your neighbors whether any of you have ever known me
hold forth in few words or in many upon matters of this sort. ... You hear
their answer. And from what they say of this you will be able to judge of the
truth of the rest.
............................................................................................
I dare say, Athenians, that someone among you will reply, "Why is
this, Socrates, and what is the origin of these accusations
of you: for there must have been something strange which you have been
doing? All this great fame and talk about you would never have arisen if
you had been like other men: tell us, then, why this is, as we should be
sorry to judge hastily of you." Now I regard this as a fair challenge,
and I will endeavor to explain to you the origin of this name of
"wise," and of this evil fame. Please to attend then. And
although some of you may think I am joking, I declare that I will tell you
the entire truth. Men of Athens, this reputation of mine has come of a
certain sort of wisdom which I possess.
If you ask me what kind of wisdom, I reply, such wisdom as is attainable
by man, for to that extent I am inclined to believe that I am wise;
whereas the persons of whom I was speaking have a superhuman wisdom, which I
may fail to describe, because I have it not myself; and he who says that I
have, speaks falsely, and is taking away my character. And here, O men of
Athens, I must beg you not to interrupt me, even if I seem to say something
extravagant. For the word which I will speak is not mine. I will refer you to
a witness who is worthy of credit, and will tell you about my wisdom--
whether I have any, and of what sort-- and that witness shall be the god of
Delphi. You must have known Chaerephon; he was early a friend of mine, and
also a friend of yours, for he shared in the exile of the people, and
returned with you. Well, Chaerephon,
as you know, was very impetuous in all his doings, and he went to Delphi and boldly asked the oracle to tell him
whether - as I was saying, I must beg you not to interrupt - he asked the oracle to tell him whether there was anyone
wiser than I was, and the Pythian prophetess
answered that there was no man wiser. Chaerephon is dead himself,
but his brother, who is in court, will confirm the truth of this story.
Why do I mention this? Because I am going to explain to you why I have such
an evil name. When I heard the answer, I said to myself, What can the god mean? and
what is the interpretation of this riddle? for I
know that I have no wisdom, small or great. What can he mean when he says
that I am the wisest of men? And yet he is a god and cannot lie; that would
be against his nature. After a long consideration, I at last thought of a
method of trying the question. I reflected that if I could only find a man
wiser than myself, then I might go to the god with a refutation in my hand.
I should say to him, "Here is a man who is wiser than I am; but you said
that I was the wisest."
Accordingly I went to one who had the reputation
of wisdom, and observed to him - his name I need not mention; he was a politician whom I selected for examination -
and the result was as follows: When I began to talk with him, I could not
help thinking that he was not really wise, although he was thought wise by many,
and wiser still by himself; and I went and tried to explain to him that he
thought himself wise, but was not really wise; and the consequence was that
he hated me, and his enmity was shared by several who were present and heard
me. So I left him, saying to myself, as I went away: Well, although I do not
suppose that either of us knows anything really beautiful and good, I am
better off than he is-- for he knows nothing, and
thinks that he knows. I neither know nor think that I know. In
this latter particular, then, I seem to have slightly the advantage of him.
Then I went to another, who had still higher philosophical pretensions, and
my conclusion was exactly the same. I made another enemy of him, and of many
others besides him.
After this I went to one man after another, being not unconscious of the
enmity which I provoked, and I lamented and feared this: but necessity was
laid upon me-- the word of God, I thought, ought to be considered first. And
I said to myself, go I must to all who appear to know, and find out the
meaning of the oracle. And I swear to you, Athenians, by the dog I swear!--
for I must tell you the truth-- the result of my mission was just this: I
found that the men most in repute were all but the most foolish; and that
some inferior men were really wiser and better. I will tell you the tale of
my wanderings and of the "Herculean" labors, as I may call them,
which I endured only to find at last the oracle irrefutable. When I left the
politicians, I went to the poets;
tragic, dithyrambic, and all sorts. And there, I said to myself, you will be
detected; now you will find out that you are more ignorant than they are.
Accordingly, I took them some of the most elaborate passages in their own
writings, and asked what was the meaning of them-- thinking
that they would teach me something. Will you believe me? I am almost
ashamed to speak of this, but still I must say that there is hardly a
person present who would not have talked better about their poetry than they
did themselves. That showed me in an instant that not
by wisdom do poets write poetry, but by a sort of genius and inspiration;
they are like diviners or soothsayers who also say many fine things, but do
not understand the meaning of them. And the poets appeared to me to be
much in the same case; and I further observed that upon the strength of their
poetry they believed themselves to be the wisest of men in other things in
which they were not wise. So I departed, conceiving myself to be superior
to them for the same reason that I was superior to the politicians.
At last I went to the artisans, for I
was conscious that I knew nothing at all, as I may say, and I was sure that
they knew many fine things; and in this I was not mistaken, for they did know
many things of which I was ignorant, and in this they certainly were wiser
than I was. But I observed that even the good artisans fell into the same
error as the poets; because they were good workmen
they thought that they also knew all sorts of high matters, and this
defect in them overshadowed their wisdom-- therefore I asked myself on
behalf of the oracle, whether I would like to be as I was, neither having
their knowledge nor their ignorance, or like them in both; and I made answer
to myself and the oracle that I was better off as I was.
This investigation has led to my having many enemies of the worst and most
dangerous kind, and has given occasion also to many calumnies, and I am
called wise, for my hearers always imagine that I myself possess the wisdom
which I find wanting in others: but the truth is, O men of Athens, that God only is wise; and in this oracle he means to say
that the wisdom of men is little or nothing; he is not speaking of
Socrates, he is only using my name as an illustration, as if he said, He, O men, is the wisest, who, like Socrates, knows that
his wisdom is in truth worth nothing.
And so I go my way, obedient to the god, and make inquisition into the wisdom
of anyone, whether citizen or stranger, who appears to be wise; and if he is
not wise, then in vindication of the oracle I show him that he is not wise;
and this occupation quite absorbs me, and I have no time to give either to
any public matter of interest or to any concern of my own, but I am in utter
poverty by reason of my devotion to the god.
There is another thing:-- young men of the richer classes, who have not much
to do, come about me of their own accord; they like to hear the pretenders
examined, and they often imitate me, and examine others themselves; there are
plenty of persons, as they soon enough discover, who think that they know
something, but really know little or nothing: and then those who are examined
by them instead of being angry with themselves are angry with me: This
confounded Socrates, they say; this villainous misleader of youth! - and then if somebody asks them, Why, what evil does he
practice or teach? they do not know, and cannot tell; but in order that they
may not appear to be at a loss, they repeat the ready-made charges which are
used against all philosophers about teaching things up in the clouds and
under the earth, and having no gods, and making the worse appear the better
cause; for they do not like to confess that their pretence of knowledge has
been detected-- which is the truth: and as they are numerous and ambitious and
energetic, and are all in battle array and have persuasive tongues, they have
filled your ears with their loud and inveterate calumnies. And this is the
reason why my three accusers, Meletus and Anytus and Lycon, have set upon me; Meletus,
who has a quarrel with me on behalf of the poets; Anytus,
on behalf of the craftsmen; Lycon, on behalf of the
rhetoricians: and as I said at the beginning, I cannot expect to get rid of
this mass of calumny all in a moment. And this, O men of Athens, is the
truth and the whole truth; I have concealed nothing, I have dissembled
nothing. And yet I know that this plainness of speech makes them hate me, and
what is their hatred but a proof that I am speaking the truth?-- this is the occasion and reason of their slander of me, as
you will find out either in this or in any future inquiry.
I have said enough in my defense against the first class of my accusers; I
turn to the second class, who are headed by Meletus, that good and patriotic man, as he calls
himself. And now I will try to defend myself against them: these new accusers
must also have their affidavit read. What do they say? Something of this
sort: - That Socrates is a doer of evil, and corrupter of the youth, and
he does not believe in the gods of the state, and has other new divinities of
his own. That is the sort of charge; and now let us
examine the particular counts. He says that I am a doer of evil, who
corrupt the youth; but I say, O men of Athens, that Meletus
is a doer of evil, and the evil is that he makes a joke of a serious matter,
and is too ready at bringing other men to trial from a pretended zeal and
interest about matters in which he really never had the smallest interest.
And the truth of this I will endeavor to prove
Come hither, Meletus, and let me ask a question of
you. You think a great deal about the improvement of youth?
Yes, I do.
Tell the judges, then, who is their improver; for you must know, as you have
taken the pains to discover their corrupter, and are citing and accusing me
before them. Speak, then, and tell the judges who their improver is. Observe,
Meletus, that you are silent, and have nothing to
say. But is not this rather disgraceful, and a very considerable proof of
what I was saying, that you have no interest in the matter? Speak up, friend,
and tell us who their improver is.
The laws.
But that, my good sir, is not my meaning. I want to know who the person is,
who, in the first place, knows the laws.
The judges, Socrates, who are present in court.
What do you mean to say, Meletus, that they are able to instruct and improve youth?
Certainly they are.
What, all of them, or some only and not others?
All of them.
By the goddess Hera, that is good news! There are plenty of improvers, then.
And what do you say of the audience- - do they improve them?
Yes, they do.
And the senators?
Yes, the senators improve them.
But perhaps the members of the citizen assembly corrupt them?-- or do they too improve them?
They improve them.
Then every Athenian improves and elevates them; all with the exception of
myself; and I alone am their corrupter? Is that what you affirm?
That is what I stoutly affirm.
I am very unfortunate if that is true. But suppose I ask you a question:
Would you say that this also holds true in the case of horses? Does one man
do them harm and all the world good? Is not the
exact opposite of this true? One man is able to do them
good, or at least not many-- the trainer of horses, that is to say,
does them good, and others who have to do with them rather injure them? Is
not that true, Meletus, of horses, or any other
animals? Yes, certainly. Whether you and Anytus say
yes or no, that is no matter. Happy indeed would be the condition of youth if
they had one corrupter only, and all the rest of the world were their
improvers. And you, Meletus, have sufficiently
shown that you never had a thought about the young: your carelessness is seen
in your not caring about matters spoken of in this very indictment.
And now, Meletus, I must ask you another question:
Which is better, to live among bad citizens, or among good ones? Answer,
friend, I say; for that is a question which may be easily answered. Do not
the good do their neighbors good, and the bad do
them evil?
Certainly.
And is there anyone who would rather be injured than benefited by those who
live with him? Answer, my good friend; the law requires you to answer - does
anyone like to be injured?
Certainly not.
And when you accuse me of corrupting and deteriorating the youth, do you
allege that I corrupt them intentionally or unintentionally?
Intentionally, I say.
But you have just admitted that the good do their neighbors good, and the evil do them evil. Now is that a truth which
your superior wisdom has recognized thus early in life, and am I, at my age,
in such darkness and ignorance as not to know that if a man with whom I have
to live is corrupted by me, I am very likely to be harmed by him, and yet I
corrupt him, and intentionally, too-- that is what you are saying, and of
that you will never persuade me or any other human being. But either I do not
corrupt them, or I corrupt them unintentionally, so that on either view of
the case you lie. If my offence is unintentional, the law has no cognizance
of unintentional offences: you ought to have taken me privately, and warned
and admonished me; for if I had been better advised, I should have left off
doing what I only did unintentionally-- no doubt I should; whereas you hated
to converse with me or teach me, but you indicted me in this court, which is
a place not of instruction, but of punishment.
I have shown, Athenians, as I was saying, that Meletus
has no care at all, great or small, about the matter. But still I should like
to know, Meletus, in what I am affirmed to corrupt
the young. I suppose you mean, as I infer from your indictment, that I teach
them not to acknowledge the gods which the state acknowledges, but some other
new divinities or spiritual agencies in their stead. These are the lessons
which corrupt the youth, as you say.
Yes, that I say emphatically.
Then, by the gods, Meletus, of whom we are
speaking, tell me and the court, in somewhat plainer terms, what you mean!
for I do not as yet understand whether you affirm that I teach others to
acknowledge some gods, and therefore do believe in gods and am not an entire
atheist - this you do not lay to my charge; but only that they are not the
same gods which the city recognizes - the charge is that they are different
gods. Or, do you mean to say that I am an atheist simply, and a teacher of
atheism?
I mean the latter - that you are a complete atheist.
That is an extraordinary statement, Meletus. Why do
you say that? Do you mean that I do not believe in the godhead of the sun or
moon, which is the common creed of all men?
I assure you, judges, that he does not believe in them; for
he says that the sun is stone, and the moon earth.
Friend Meletus, you think that you are accusing Anaxagoras; and you
have but a bad opinion of the judges, if you fancy them ignorant to such a degree
as not to know that those doctrines are found in the books of Anaxagoras the Clazomenian, who is full of them. And these are the
doctrines which the youth are said to learn of Socrates, when there are not unfrequently exhibitions of them at the theatre (price of
admission one drachma at the most); and they might cheaply purchase them, and
laugh at Socrates if he pretends to father such eccentricities. And so, Meletus, you really think that I do not believe in any
god?
I swear by Zeus that you believe absolutely in none at all.
You are a liar, Meletus, not believed even by
yourself. For I cannot help thinking, O men of Athens, that Meletus is reckless and impudent, and that he has written
this indictment in a spirit of mere wantonness and youthful bravado. Has he
not compounded a riddle, thinking to try me? He said to himself:-- I shall
see whether this wise Socrates will discover my ingenious contradiction, or
whether I shall be able to deceive him and the rest of them. For he certainly
does appear to me to contradict himself in the indictment as much as if he
said that Socrates is guilty of not believing in the gods, and yet of
believing in them - but this surely is a piece of fun.
I should like you, O men of Athens, to join me in examining what I conceive
to be his inconsistency; and do you, Meletus,
answer. And I must remind you that you are not to interrupt me if I speak in
my accustomed manner.
Did ever man, Meletus, believe in the existence
of human things, and not of human beings? ... I wish, men of Athens, that he
would answer, and not be always trying to get up an interruption. Did ever
any man believe in horsemanship, and not in horses? or
in flute-playing, and not in flute-players? No, my friend; I will
answer to you and to the court, as you refuse to answer for yourself. There
is no man who ever did. But now please to answer the next question: Can a man believe in spiritual and divine agencies, and not
in spirits or demigods?
He cannot.
I am glad that I have extracted that answer, by the assistance of the court;
nevertheless you swear in the indictment that I teach and believe in divine
or spiritual agencies (new or old, no matter for that); at any rate, I
believe in spiritual agencies, as you say and swear in the affidavit; but if
I believe in divine beings, I must believe in spirits or demigods; - is
not that true? Yes, that is true, for I may assume that your silence gives
assent to that. Now what are spirits or demigods? are
they not either gods or the sons of gods? Is that true?
Yes, that is true.
But this is just the ingenious riddle of which I was speaking: the demigods
or spirits are gods, and you say first that I don't believe in gods, and then
again that I do believe in gods; that is, if I believe in demigods. For if
the demigods are the illegitimate sons of gods, whether by the Nymphs or by
any other mothers, as is thought, that, as all men will allow, necessarily
implies the existence of their parents. You might as well affirm the
existence of mules, and deny that of horses and asses. Such nonsense, Meletus, could only have been intended by you as a trial
of me. You have put this into the indictment because you had nothing real of
which to accuse me. But no one who has a particle of understanding will ever
be convinced by you that the same man can believe in divine and superhuman
things, and yet not believe that there are gods and demigods and
heroes.
I have said enough in answer to the charge of Meletus:
any elaborate defense is unnecessary; but as I was saying before, I certainly
have many enemies, and this is what will be my destruction if I am destroyed;
of that I am certain; - not Meletus, nor yet Anytus, but the envy and detraction of the world, which
has been the death of many good men, and will probably be the death of many
more; there is no danger of my being the last of them.
Someone will say: And are you not ashamed, Socrates, of a course of life
which is likely to bring you to an untimely end? To him I may fairly answer:
There you are mistaken: a man who is good for
anything ought not to calculate the chance of living or dying; he ought only
to consider whether in doing anything he is doing right or wrong--
acting the part of a good man or of a bad. Whereas,
according to your view, the heroes who fell at Troy were not good for much,
and the son of Thetis (Achilles) above all, who altogether despised danger in comparison
with disgrace; and when his goddess mother said to him, in his eagerness to
slay Hector, that if he avenged his companion Patroclus,
and slew Hector, he would die himself-- "Fate," as she said,
"waits upon you next after Hector"; he, hearing this, utterly
despised danger and death, and instead of fearing them, feared rather to live
in dishonor, and not to avenge his friend. "Let me die next," he
replies, "and be avenged of my enemy, rather than abide here by the
beaked ships, a scorn and a burden of the earth." Had Achilles any
thought of death and danger? For wherever a man's place is, whether the place
which he has chosen or that in which he has been placed by a commander, there
he ought to remain in the hour of danger; he should not think of death or of
anything, but of disgrace. And this, O men of Athens, is a true saying.
Strange, indeed, would be my conduct, O men of Athens, if I who, when I was
ordered by the generals whom you chose to command me at Potidaea and Amphipolis and Delium, remained
where they placed me, like any other man, facing death; if, I say, now,
when, as I conceive and imagine, God orders me to
fulfill the philosopher's mission of searching into myself and other men,
if I were to desert my post through fear of death, or any other fear; that would
indeed be strange, and I might justly be arraigned in court for denying the
existence of the gods, if I disobeyed the oracle because I was afraid of
death: then I should be fancying that I was wise when I was not wise.
For this fear of death is indeed the pretence of wisdom, and not real wisdom,
being the appearance of knowing the unknown; since no one knows whether
death, which they in their fear apprehend to be the greatest evil, may not be
the greatest good. Is there not here conceit of knowledge, which is
a disgraceful sort of ignorance? And this is the point in which, as I
think, I am superior to men in general, and in which I might perhaps fancy
myself wiser than other men, - that whereas I know but little of the world
below, I do not suppose that I know: but I do know that injustice and
disobedience to a better, whether God or man, is evil and dishonorable, and I
will never fear or avoid a possible good rather than a certain evil. And
therefore if you let me go now, and reject the counsels of Anytus, who said that if I were not
put to death I ought not to have been prosecuted, and that if I escape now,
your sons will all be utterly ruined by listening to my words - if you say to
me, Socrates, this time we will not mind Anytus,
and will let you off, but upon one condition, that you are not to inquire and
speculate in this way anymore, and that if you are caught doing this again
you shall die; - if this was the condition on which you let me go, I should
reply: Men of Athens, I honor and love you; but I shall obey God rather
than you, and while I have life and strength I shall never cease from the
practice and teaching of philosophy, exhorting anyone whom I meet after my
manner, and convincing him, saying: O my friend, why
do you who are a citizen of the great and mighty and wise city of Athens,
care so much about laying up the greatest amount of money and honor and
reputation, and so little about wisdom and truth and the greatest improvement
of the soul, which you never regard or heed at all? Are you not
ashamed of this? And if the person with whom I am arguing says: Yes, but I do
care; I do not depart or let him go at once; I interrogate and examine and
cross-examine him, and if I think that he has no virtue, but only says that
he has, I reproach him with undervaluing the greater, and overvaluing the
less. And this I should say to everyone whom I meet, young and old, citizen
and alien, but especially to the citizens, inasmuch as they are my brethren.
For this is the command of God, as I would have you know; and I believe that
to this day no greater good has ever happened in the state than my service to
the God. For I do nothing but go about persuading you
all, old and young alike, not to take thought for your persons and your
properties, but first and chiefly to care about the greatest improvement of
the soul. I tell you that virtue is not given by money, but
that from virtue come money and every other good of man, public as well as
private. This is my teaching, and if this is the doctrine which corrupts the
youth, my influence is ruinous indeed. But if anyone says that this is
not my teaching, he is speaking an untruth. Wherefore, O men of Athens, I say
to you, do as Anytus bids or not as Anytus bids, and either acquit me or not; but whatever
you do, know that I shall never alter my ways, not even if I have to die many
times.
Men of Athens, do not interrupt, but hear me; there was an agreement between
us that you should hear me out. And I think that what I am going to say will
do you good: for I have something more to say, at which you may be inclined
to cry out; but I beg that you will not do this. I
would have you know that, if you kill such a one as I am, you will injure
yourselves more than you will injure me. Meletus
and Anytus will not injure me: they cannot; for it
is not in the nature of things that a bad man should injure a better than
himself. I do not deny that he may, perhaps, kill him, or drive him into
exile, or deprive him of civil rights; and he may imagine, and others may
imagine, that he is doing him a great injury: but in that I do not agree with
him; for the evil of doing as Anytus is doing - of
unjustly taking away another man's life - is greater far. And now, Athenians,
I am not going to argue for my own sake, as you may think, but for yours,
that you may not sin against the God, or lightly reject his boon by
condemning me. For if you kill me you will not easily find another like
me, who, if I may use such a ludicrous figure of speech, am a sort of gadfly, given to the state by the God; and the state
is like a great and noble steed who is tardy in his motions owing to his very
size, and requires to be stirred into life. I am that
gadfly which God has given the state and all day
long and in all places am always fastening upon you, arousing and persuading
and reproaching you. And as you will not easily find another like me,
I would advise you to spare me. I dare say that you may feel irritated
at being suddenly awakened when you are caught napping; and you may think
that if you were to strike me dead, as Anytus
advises, which you easily might, then you would sleep on for the remainder of
your lives, unless God in his care of you gives you another gadfly. And
that I am given to you by God is proved by this-- that if I had been like
other men, I should not have neglected all my own concerns, or patiently seen
the neglect of them during all these years, and have been doing yours, coming
to you individually, like a father or elder brother, exhorting you to regard
virtue; this I say, would not be like human nature. And had I gained
anything, or if my exhortations had been paid, there would have been some
sense in that: but now, as you will perceive, not even the impudence of my
accusers dares to say that I have ever exacted or sought pay of anyone; they
have no witness of that. And I have a witness of the truth of what I say; my
poverty is a sufficient witness.
Someone may wonder why I go about in private, giving advice and busying
myself with the concerns of others, but do not venture to come forward in
public and advise the state. I will tell you the reason of this. You have
often heard me speak of an oracle or sign which comes to me, and is the
divinity which Meletus ridicules in the indictment.
This sign I have had ever since I was a child. The sign is a voice which comes to me and always forbids me to
do something which I am going to do, but never commands me to do anything,
and this is what stands in the way of my being a politician. And rightly, as
I think. For I am certain, O men of Athens, that if I had engaged in
politics, I should have perished long ago and done no good either to you or
to myself. And don't be offended at my telling you the truth: for the truth
is that no man who goes to war with you or any other multitude, honestly
struggling against the commission of unrighteousness and wrong in the state,
will save his life; he who will really fight for the right, if he would live
even for a little while, must have a private station and not a public
one.
........................................................................................................
Now do you really imagine that I could have survived all these years, if I
had led a public life, supposing that like a good man I had always supported
the right and had made justice, as I ought, the first thing? No, indeed, men
of Athens, neither I nor any other. But I have been always the same in all my
actions, public as well as private, and never have I yielded any base
compliance to those who are slanderously termed my disciples or to any other.
For the truth is that I have no regular disciples: but if anyone likes to
come and hear me while I am pursuing my mission, whether he be young or old,
he may freely come. Nor do I converse with those who pay only, and not with
those who do not pay; but anyone, whether he be rich or poor, may ask and
answer me and listen to my words; and whether he turns out to be a bad man or
a good one, that cannot be justly laid to my charge, as I never taught him
anything. And if anyone says that he has ever learned or heard anything from
me in private which all the world has not heard, I should like you to know
that he is speaking an untruth.
But I shall be asked, Why do people delight in
continually conversing with you? I have told you already, Athenians, the
whole truth about this: they like to hear the cross-examination of the
pretenders to wisdom; there is amusement in this. And this is a duty which
the God has imposed upon me, as I am assured by oracles, visions, and in
every sort of way in which the will of divine power was ever signified to
anyone. This is true, O Athenians; or, if not true, would be soon refuted.
For if I am really corrupting the youth, and have corrupted some of them
already, those of them who have grown up and have become sensible that I gave
them bad advice in the days of their youth should come forward as accusers
and take their revenge; and if they do not like to come themselves, some of
their relatives, fathers, brothers, or other kinsmen, should say what evil
their families suffered at my hands. Now is their time. Many of them I see in
the court. There is Crito, who is of the same age
and of the same deme with myself;
and there is Critobulus his son, whom I also see.
Then again there is Lysanias of Sphettus,
who is the father of Aeschines-- he is present; and
also there is Antiphon of Cephisus, who is the
father of Epignes; and there are the brothers of
several who have associated with me. There is Nicostratus
the son of Theosdotides, and the brother of Theodotus (now Theodotus
himself is dead, and therefore he, at any rate, will not seek to stop him);
and there is Paralus the son of Demodocus,
who had a brother Theages; and Adeimantus
the son of Ariston, whose brother Plato is present; and Aeantodorus,
who is the brother of Apollodorus, whom I also see.
I might mention a great many others, any of whom Meletus
should have produced as witnesses in the course of his speech; and let him
still produce them, if he has forgotten-- I will make way for him. And let
him say, if he has any testimony of the sort which he can produce. Nay,
Athenians, the very opposite is the truth. For all these are ready to witness
on behalf of the corrupter, of the destroyer of their kindred, as Meletus and Anytus call me; not
the corrupted youth only-- there might have been a motive for that-- but
their uncorrupted elder relatives. Why should they too support me with their
testimony? Why, indeed, except for the sake of truth and justice, and because
they know that I am speaking the truth, and that Meletus
is lying.
Well, Athenians, this and the like of this is nearly all the defense which I
have to offer.
..................................................................................................
But, setting aside the question of dishonor, there seems to be something
wrong in petitioning a judge, and thus procuring an acquittal instead of
informing and convincing him. For his duty is, not to make a present of
justice, but to give judgment; and he has sworn that he will judge according
to the laws, and not according to his own good pleasure; and neither he nor
we should get into the habit of perjuring ourselves - there can be no piety
in that. Do not then require me to do what I consider dishonorable and
impious and wrong, especially now, when I am being tried for impiety on the
indictment of Meletus. For if, O men of Athens, by
force of persuasion and entreaty, I could overpower your oaths, then I should be teaching you to believe that there are no
gods, and convict myself, in my own defense, of not believing in them. But that is not the case; for I do believe that there are gods, and
in a far higher sense than that in which any of my accusers believe in
them. And to you and to God I commit my cause, to be determined by you as is
best for you and me.
The jury finds Socrates guilty.
Socrates' Proposal for his Sentence
There are many reasons why I am not grieved, O men of Athens, at the vote of
condemnation. I expected it, and am only surprised that the votes are so
nearly equal; for I had thought that the majority against me would have been
far larger; but now, had thirty votes gone over to the other side, I should
have been acquitted. And I may say that I have escaped Meletus.
And I may say more; for without the assistance of Anytus
and Lycon, he would not have had a fifth part of
the votes, as the law requires, in which case he would have incurred a fine
of a thousand drachmae, as is evident.
And so he proposes death as the penalty. And what shall I propose on my
part, O men of Athens? Clearly that which is my due. And what is that
which I ought to pay or to receive? What shall be done to the man who has
never had the wit to be idle during his whole life; but has been careless of
what the many care about - wealth, and family interests, and military
offices, and speaking in the assembly, and magistracies, and plots, and
parties. Reflecting that I was really too honest a man to follow in this way
and live, I did not go where I could do no good to you or to myself; but
where I could do the greatest good privately to everyone of you, thither I
went, and sought to persuade every man among you that he must look to
himself, and seek virtue and wisdom before he looks to his private interests,
and look to the state before he looks to the interests of the state; and that
this should be the order which he observes in all his actions. What shall be
done to such a one? Doubtless some good thing, O men of Athens, if he has his
reward; and the good should be of a kind suitable to him. What would be a
reward suitable to a poor man who is your benefactor, who desires leisure
that he may instruct you? There can be no more fitting reward than maintenance in the Prytaneum,
O men of Athens, a reward which he deserves far more than the citizen who has
won the prize at Olympia in the horse or chariot race, whether the chariots
were drawn by two horses or by many. For I am in want, and he has enough; and
he only gives you the appearance of happiness, and I give you the reality.
And if I am to estimate the penalty justly, I say that maintenance in the Prytaneum is the just return.
Perhaps you may think that I am braving you in saying this, as in what I said
before about the tears and prayers. But that is not the case. I speak rather
because I am convinced that I never intentionally wronged anyone, although I
cannot convince you of that - for we have had a short conversation only; but
if there were a law at Athens, such as there is in other cities, that a
capital cause should not be decided in one day, then I believe that I should
have convinced you; but now the time is too short. I cannot in a moment
refute great slanders; and, as I am convinced that I never wronged another, I
will assuredly not wrong myself. I will not say of myself that I deserve any
evil, or propose any penalty. Why should I? Because I am afraid of the
penalty of death which Meletus proposes? When I do
not know whether death is a good or an evil, why should I propose a penalty
which would certainly be an evil? Shall I say imprisonment? And why should I
live in prison, and be the slave of the magistrates of the year - of the
Eleven? Or shall the penalty be a fine, and imprisonment until the fine is
paid? There is the same objection. I should have to lie in prison, for money
I have none, and I cannot pay. And if I say exile (and this may possibly be
the penalty which you will affix), I must indeed be blinded by the love of
life if I were to consider that when you, who are my own citizens, cannot
endure my discourses and words, and have found them so grievous and odious
that you would fain have done with them, others are likely to endure me. No,
indeed, men of Athens, that is not very likely. And what a life should I
lead, at my age, wandering from city to city, living in ever-changing exile,
and always being driven out! For I am quite sure that into whatever place I
go, as here so also there, the young men will come to me; and if I drive them
away, their elders will drive me out at their desire: and if I let them come,
their fathers and friends will drive me out for their sakes.
Someone will say: Yes, Socrates, but cannot you hold your tongue, and then
you may go into a foreign city, and no one will interfere with you? Now I
have great difficulty in making you understand my answer to this. For if I
tell you that this would be a disobedience to a divine command, and therefore
that I cannot hold my tongue, you will not
believe that I am serious; and if I say again that the
greatest good of man is daily to converse about virtue, and all that
concerning which you hear me examining myself and others, and that the life which is unexamined is not worth living -
that you are still less likely to believe. And yet what I say is true,
although a thing of which it is hard for me to persuade you. Moreover, I
am not accustomed to think that I deserve any punishment. Had I money I might
have proposed to give you what I had, and have been none the worse. But you
see that I have none, and can only ask you to proportion the fine to my
means. However, I think that I could afford a minae, and therefore I propose that penalty;
Plato, Crito, Critobulus,
and Apollodorus, my friends here, bid me say thirty
minae, and they will be the sureties. Well then,
say thirty minae, let that be the penalty; for that
they will be ample security to you.
The jury condemns Socrates to death.
Socrates Comments on his Sentence
Not much time will be gained, O Athenians, in return for the evil name which
you will get from the detractors of the city, who will say that you killed
Socrates, a wise man; for they will call me wise even although I am not wise
when they want to reproach you. If you had waited a little while, your desire
would have been fulfilled in the course of nature. For I am far advanced in
years, as you may perceive, and not far from death. I am speaking now only to
those of you who have condemned me to death. And I have another thing to say
to them: You think that I was convicted through deficiency of words - I mean,
that if I had thought fit to leave nothing undone, nothing unsaid, I might
have gained an acquittal. Not so; the deficiency which led to my conviction
was not of words - certainly not. But I had not the boldness or impudence or
inclination to address you as you would have liked me to address you, weeping
and wailing and lamenting, and saying and doing many things which you have
been accustomed to hear from others, and which, as I say, are unworthy of me.
But I thought that I ought not to do anything common or mean in the hour of
danger: nor do I now repent of the manner of my defence,
and I would rather die having spoken after my manner, than speak in your
manner and live. For neither in war nor yet at law ought any man to use every
way of escaping death. For often in battle there is no doubt that if a man
will throw away his arms, and fall on his knees before his pursuers, he may
escape death; and in other dangers there are other ways of escaping death, if
a man is willing to say and do anything. The difficulty, my friends, is not
in avoiding death, but in avoiding unrighteousness; for that runs faster than
death. I am old and move slowly, and the slower runner has overtaken me, and
my accusers are keen and quick, and the faster runner, who is
unrighteousness, has overtaken them. And now I depart hence condemned by you
to suffer the penalty of death, and they, too, go their ways condemned by the
truth to suffer the penalty of villainy and wrong; and I must abide by my
award - let them abide by theirs. I suppose that these things may be regarded
as fated, - and I think that they are well.
And now, O men who have condemned me, I would fain prophesy to you; for I
am about to die, and that is the hour in which men are gifted with prophetic
power. And I prophesy to you who are my murderers, that
immediately after my death punishment far heavier than you have inflicted on
me will surely await you. Me you have killed because you wanted to escape the
accuser, and not to give an account of your lives. But that will not be as
you suppose: far otherwise. For I say that there will be more accusers of you
than there are now; accusers whom hitherto I have restrained: and as they are
younger they will be more severe with you, and you will be more offended at
them. For if you think that by killing men you can avoid the accuser
censuring your lives, you are mistaken; that is not a way of escape which is
either possible or honorable; the easiest and noblest way is not to be
crushing others, but to be improving yourselves. This is the prophecy
which I utter before my departure, to the judges who have condemned me.
Friends, who would have acquitted me, I would like also to talk with you
about this thing which has happened, while the magistrates are busy, and
before I go to the place at which I must die. Stay then awhile, for we may as
well talk with one another while there is time. You are my friends, and I should
like to show you the meaning of this event which has happened to me. O my
judges - for you I may truly call judges - I should like to tell you of a
wonderful circumstance. Hitherto the familiar oracle
within me has constantly been in the habit of opposing me even about trifles,
if I was going to make a slip or error about anything; and now as you see
there has come upon me that which may be thought, and is generally believed
to be, the last and worst evil. But the oracle made
no sign of opposition, either as I was leaving my house and going out
in the morning, or when I was going up into this court, or while I was
speaking, at anything which I was going to say; and yet I have often been
stopped in the middle of a speech; but now in nothing I either said or did
touching this matter has the oracle opposed me. What do I take to be the
explanation of this? I will tell you. I regard this as a proof that what has
happened to me is a good, and that those of us who think that death is an
evil are in error. This is a great proof to me of what I am saying, for the
customary sign would surely have opposed me had I been going to evil and not
to good.
Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that there is great reason
to hope that death is a good, for one of two
things: - either death is a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness,
or, as men say, there is a change and migration of the soul from this world
to another. Now if you suppose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep
like the sleep of him who is undisturbed even by the sight of dreams, death
will be an unspeakable gain. For if a person were to select the night in
which his sleep was undisturbed even by dreams, and were to compare with this
the other days and nights of his life, and then were to tell us how many days
and nights he had passed in the course of his life better and more pleasantly
than this one, I think that any man, I will not say a private man, but even
the great king, will not find many such days or nights, when compared with the
others. Now if death is like this, I say that to die is gain; for eternity
is then only a single night. But if death is the journey to another place,
and there, as men say, all the dead are, what good, O my friends and judges, can be greater than this? If indeed when the
pilgrim arrives in the world below, he is delivered from the professors of
justice in this world, and finds the true judges who are said to give
judgment there, Minos and Rhadamanthus
and Aeacus and Triptolemus,
and other sons of God who were righteous in their own life, that pilgrimage
will be worth making. What would not a man give if he might converse with
Orpheus and Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer? Nay, if
this be true, let me die again and again. I, too, shall have a wonderful
interest in a place where I can converse with Palamedes, and Ajax the
son of Telamon, and other heroes of old, who have
suffered death through an unjust judgment; and there will be no small
pleasure, as I think, in comparing my own sufferings with theirs. Above all, I
shall be able to continue my search into true and false knowledge; as in this
world, so also in that; I shall find out who is wise, and who pretends to be
wise, and is not. What would not a man give, O judges, to be able to examine
the leader of the great Trojan expedition; or Odysseus or Sisyphus, or
numberless others, men and women too! What infinite delight would there be in
conversing with them and asking them questions! For in that world they do not
put a man to death for this; certainly not. For besides being happier in that
world than in this, they will be immortal, if what is said is true.
Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer about death, and know this of a truth -
that no evil can happen to a good man, either in life or after death. He and
his are not neglected by the gods; nor has my own approaching end happened by
mere chance. But I see clearly that to die and be released was better for me;
and therefore the oracle gave no sign. For which reason also, I am not angry
with my accusers, or my condemners; they have done me no harm, although
neither of them meant to do me any good; and for this I may gently blame
them.
Still I have a favor to ask of them. When my sons are grown up, I would ask
you, O my friends, to punish them; and I would have you trouble them, as I
have troubled you, if they seem to care about riches, or anything, more than
about virtue; or if they pretend to be something when they are really
nothing, - then reprove them, as I have reproved you, for not caring about
that for which they ought to care, and thinking that they are something when
they are really nothing. And if you do this, I and my sons will have received
justice at your hands.
The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways - I to die, and you to
live. Which is better God only knows.
THE END
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