Apology

[Mutakalim]

Some people say that all of western philosophy is but footnotes to Plato; some add that the writer of these footnotes is no other than Aristotle. The Dialogues of Plato are a great read. Enjoy!

 

 

Apology

 

by Plato

 

Written c. 360 B.C.

 

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?" "Evenusthe

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.

[Qac Qaac]

sheikh Quraanka aa kuugu filan, ee Creek stuff iska hilmaam...

[nuune]

loooooooooooool qac qaac, aniga really greek stuff iigumaba baxdo, plato plutaano iyo zodac jinni leen maqlaa

[Mutakalim]

:mad:

[Arwa]

Mutakalem

 

"Esm 3ala musama" lol

 

your nick name suits you so bad ..girgir waajid!

 

Salaam

[OG_Girl]

Guys , u killing guy's topic. I understand how many hours took him to read those stuff and post it for us.Motakalam, as much as I love philosophy, is making me to wonder and ask so many questions. I loved the piece, but since not all of us aware what is hidding message from that piece , could u please kindly tell us what is moral of the Artical?..I am sure there is great lesson behind it.

 

Salam