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 t 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.
