380 BC
THE APOLOGY OF SOCRATES
by Plato
translated by Benjamin Jowett
Electronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R)
THE APOLOGY OF SOCRATES
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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 yourself 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, O Athenians.
I dare say that someone will ask the question, "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 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 "hat, 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 ecclesiasts 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 the, 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 god-head 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 you are not 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 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, 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.
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THERE are many reasons why I am not grieved, O men of Athens, at the
vote of condemnation. I expected this, 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 interfere with you? Now I
have great difficulty in no one wi making 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 mina, 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.
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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 disturbed
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.
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THE END
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