Apology
By Plato
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 defence 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 impressible - 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 defence,
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 defence, 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 defence.
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. "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." 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.
As little foundation is there for the report that I am a teacher, and take
money; that is no more true than the other. Although, if a man is able to
teach, I honor him for being paid. There is Gorgias of Leontium, and Prodicus
of Ceos, and Hippias of Elis, who go the round of the cities, and are able to
persuade the young men to leave their own citizens, by whom they might be
taught for nothing, and come to them, whom they not only pay, but are thankful
if they may be allowed to pay them. There is actually a Parian philosopher
residing in Athens, of whom I have heard; and I came to hear of him in this
way: - I met a man who has spent a world of money on the Sophists, Callias the
son of Hipponicus, and knowing that he had sons, I asked him:
"Callias," I said, "if your two sons were foals or calves, there
would be no difficulty in finding someone to put over them; we should hire a
trainer of horses or a farmer probably who would improve and perfect them in
their own proper virtue and excellence; but as they are human beings, whom are
you thinking of placing over them? Is there anyone who understands human and
political virtue? You must have thought about this as you have sons; is there
anyone?" "There is," he said. "Who is he?" said I,
"and of what country? and what does he charge?" "Evenus the
Parian," he replied; "he is the man, and his charge is five
minae." Happy is Evenus, I said to myself, if he really has this wisdom,
and teaches at such a modest charge. Had I the same, I should have been very
proud and conceited; but the truth is that I have no knowledge of the kind.
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 practise 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 defence 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 Here, 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 defence 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 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 fulfil the
philosopher's mission of searching into myself and other men, 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 are to inquire and
speculate in this way any more, 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.
I can give you as proofs of this, not words only, but deeds, which you value
more than words. Let me tell you a passage of my own life, which will prove to
you that I should never have yielded to injustice from any fear of death, and
that if I had not yielded I should have died at once. I will tell you a story -
tasteless, perhaps, and commonplace, but nevertheless true. The only office of
state which I ever held, O men of Athens, was that of senator; the tribe
Antiochis, which is my tribe, had the presidency at the trial of the generals
who had not taken up the bodies of the slain after the battle of Arginusae; and
you proposed to try them all together, which was illegal, as you all thought
afterwards; but at the time I was the only one of the Prytanes who was opposed
to the illegality, and I gave my vote against you; and when the orators
threatened to impeach and arrest me, and have me taken away, and you called and
shouted, I made up my mind that I would run the risk, having law and justice
with me, rather than take part in your injustice because I feared imprisonment
and death. This happened in the days of the democracy. But when the oligarchy
of the Thirty was in power, they sent for me and four others into the rotunda,
and bade us bring Leon the Salaminian from Salamis, as they wanted to execute
him. This was a specimen of the sort of commands which they were always giving
with the view of implicating as many as possible in their crimes; and then I
showed, not in words only, but in deed, that, if I may be allowed to use such
an expression, I cared not a straw for death, and that my only fear was the
fear of doing an unrighteous or unholy thing. For the strong arm of that
oppressive power did not frighten me into doing wrong; and when we came out of
the rotunda the other four went to Salamis and fetched Leon, but I went quietly
home. For which I might have lost my life, had not the power of the Thirty
shortly afterwards come to an end. And to this many will witness.
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 defence which I
have to offer. Yet a word more. Perhaps there may be someone who is offended at
me, when he calls to mind how he himself, on a similar or even a less serious
occasion, had recourse to prayers and supplications with many tears, and how he
produced his children in court, which was a moving spectacle, together with a
posse of his relations and friends; whereas I, who am probably in danger of my
life, will do none of these things. Perhaps this may come into his mind, and he
may be set against me, and vote in anger because he is displeased at this. Now
if there be such a person among you, which I am far from affirming, I may
fairly reply to him: My friend, I am a man, and like other men, a creature of
flesh and blood, and not of wood or stone, as Homer says; and I have a family,
yes, and sons. O Athenians, three in number, one of whom is growing up, and the
two others are still young; and yet I will not bring any of them hither in
order to petition you for an acquittal. And why not? Not from any self-will or
disregard of you. Whether I am or am not afraid of death is another question,
of which I will not now speak. But my reason simply is that I feel such conduct
to be discreditable to myself, and you, and the whole state. One who has
reached my years, and who has a name for wisdom, whether deserved or not, ought
not to debase himself. At any rate, the world has decided that Socrates is in
some way superior to other men. And if those among you who are said to be superior
in wisdom and courage, and any other virtue, demean themselves in this way, how
shameful is their conduct! I have seen men of reputation, when they have been
condemned, behaving in the strangest manner: they seemed to fancy that they
were going to suffer something dreadful if they died, and that they could be
immortal if you only allowed them to live; and I think that they were a
dishonor to the state, and that any stranger coming in would say of them that
the most eminent men of Athens, to whom the Athenians themselves give honor and
command, are no better than women. And I say that these things ought not to be
done by those of us who are of reputation; and if they are done, you ought not
to permit them; you ought rather to show that you are more inclined to condemn,
not the man who is quiet, but the man who gets up a doleful scene, and makes
the city ridiculous.
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 defence, 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