What surprises me
yet more is,
that some would believe
that Socrates was a
debaucher of young men!
Socrates the most sober
and most chaste of all men,
who cheerfully supported
both cold and heat;
whom no inconvenience,
no hardships, no labors
could startle, and
who had learned to wish
for so little, that though
he had scarce anything,
he had always enough.
Then how could he teach
impiety, injustice, gluttony,
impurity, and luxury?
And so far was he
from doing so, that he
reclaimed many persons
from those vices,
inspiring them
with the love of virtue,
and putting them in hopes
of coming to preferment
in the world,
provided they would take
a little care of themselves.
Yet he never promised
any man to teach him
to be virtuous; but as he
made a public profession
of virtue, he created
in the minds of those
who frequented him
the hopes of becoming
virtuous by his example.
He neglected not
his own body,
and praised not those
that neglected theirs.
In like manner,
he blamed the custom of
some who eat too much,
and afterwards
use violent exercises;
but he approved of eating
till nature be satisfied,
and of a moderate exercise
after it, believing
that method to be
an advantage to health,
and proper to unbend
and divert the mind.
In his clothes he was
neither nice nor costly; and
what I say of his clothes
ought likewise
to be understood of
his whole way of living.
Never any of his friends
became covetous
in his conversation, and
he reclaimed them from
that sordid disposition,
as well as from all others;
for he would accept
of no gratuity from any
who desired to confer
with him, and said
that was the way
to discover a noble
and generous heart,
and that they
who take rewards
betray a meanness
of soul, and
sell their own persons,
because they impose
on themselves a necessity
of instructing those
from whom
they receive a salary.
He wondered, likewise,
why a man, who
promises to teach virtue,
should ask money;
as if he believed not
the greatest of all gain to
consist in the acquisition
of a good friend,
or, as if he feared,
that he who, by his means,
should become virtuous,
and be obliged to him
for so great a benefit,
would not be
sufficiently grateful for it.
Quite different
from Socrates,
who never boasted
of any such thing, and
who was most certain
that all who heard him
and received his maxims
would love him forever,
and be capable of
loving others also.
After this, whosoever says
that such a man
debauched the youth,
must at the same time say
that the study of virtue
is debauchery.
But the accuser says
that Socrates taught to
despise the constitution
that was established
in the Republic,
because he affirmed it
to be a folly to
elect magistrates by lots;
since if anyone
had occasion for a pilot,
a musician,
or an architect, he would
not trust to chance
for any such person,
though the faults
that can be committed
by men in such capacities
are far from being
of so great importance
as those that are committed
in the government
of the Republic.
He says, therefore,
that such arguments
insensibly accustom the
youth to despise the laws,
and render them
more audacious
and more violent.
But, in my opinion,
such as study
the art of prudence,
and who believe
they shall be able to render
themselves capable of
giving good advice
and counsel
to their fellow-citizens,
seldom become men
of violent tempers;
because they know
that violence is hateful
and full of danger;
while, on the contrary,
to win by persuasion
is full of love and safety.
For they,
whom we have compelled,
brood a secret hatred
against us, believing
we have done them wrong;
but those whom
we have taken the trouble
to persuade
continue our friends,
believing we have done
them a kindness.
It is not, therefore, they
who apply themselves
to the study of prudence
that become violent,
but those brutish
intractable tempers
who have much power
in their hands
and but little judgment
to manage it.
He farther said
that when a man desires
to carry anything by force,
he must have many
friends to assist him:
as, on the contrary,
he that can persuade has
need of none but himself,
and is not subject
to shed blood; for who
would rather choose
to kill a man than to
make use of his services,
after having gained
his friendship and
goodwill by mildness?
The accuser adds,
in proof of
the ill tendency of
the doctrine of Socrates,
that Critias and Alcibiades,
who were two of
his most intimate friends,
were very bad men,
and did much mischief
to their country.
For Critias was the
most insatiable and cruel
of all the thirty tyrants;
and Alcibiades
the most dissolute,
the most insolent,
and the most audacious
citizen that ever
the Republic had.
As for me, I pretend
not to justify them,
and will only relate
for what reason
they frequented Socrates.
They were men of
an unbounded ambition,
and who resolved,
whatever it cost,
to govern the State,
and make themselves
be talked of.
They had heard that
Socrates lived very content
upon little or nothing,
that he entirely
commanded his passions,
and that his reasonings
were so persuasive
that he drew all men
to which side he pleased.
Reflecting on this,
and being of the temper
we mentioned,
can it be thought
that they desired the
acquaintance of Socrates,
because they were in love
with his way of life,
and with his temperance,
or because they believed
that by conversing with him
they should render
themselves capable of
reasoning aright,
and of well-managing
the public affairs?
For my part, I believe
that if the gods
had proposed to them
to live always like him,
or to die immediately,
they would rather have
chosen a sudden death.
And it is easy to judge this
from their actions;
for as soon as
they thought themselves
more capable
than their companions,
they forsook Socrates,
whom they had frequented,
only for the purpose
I mentioned,
and threw themselves
wholly into business.
It may, perhaps,
be objected that he ought
not to have discoursed
to his friends
of things relating to the
government of the State,
till after he had taught them
to live virtuously.
I have nothing to say to this;
but I observe that all
who profess teaching
do generally two things:
they work in presence
of their scholars,
to show them
how they ought to do,
and they instruct them
likewise by word of mouth.
Now, in either
of these two ways,
no man ever taught
to live well, like Socrates;
for, in his whole life,
he was an example
of untainted probity;
and in his discourses
he spoke of virtue and
of all the duties of man
in a manner
that made him admired
of all his hearers.
And I know too very well
that Critias and Alcibiades
lived very virtuously
as long as
they frequented him;
not that they were
afraid of him, but
because they thought it
most conducive
to their designs
to live so at that time.
Many who pretend
to philosophy
will here object,
that a virtuous person
is always virtuous,
and that when a man
has once come
to be good and temperate,
he will never afterwards
become wicked
nor dissolute;
because habitudes
that can be acquired,
when once they are so,
can never more be effaced
from the mind.
But I am not of this opinion;
for as they who use
no bodily exercises
are awkward and
unwieldy in the actions
of the body,
so they who exercise
not their minds
are incapable of the noble
actions of the mind, and
have not courage enough
to undertake anything
worthy of praise,
nor command enough
over themselves
to abstain from things
that are forbid.
For this reason, parents,
though they be well enough
assured of the good
natural disposition
of their children,
fail not to forbid them
the conversation
of the vicious, because
it is the ruin
of worthy dispositions,
whereas the conversation
of good men is
a continual meditation
of virtue.
Thus a poet says, "By those
whom we frequent,
we're ever led:
Example is a law
by all obeyed.
Thus with the good,
we are to good inclined,
But vicious company
corrupts the mind."
And another in like manner:
"Virtue and vice
in the same man are found,
And now they gain,
and now
they lose their ground."
And, in my opinion,
they are in the right:
for when I consider
that they who have
learned verses by heart
forget them unless
they repeat them often,
so I believe that they who
neglect the reasonings
of philosophers,
insensibly lose
the remembrance of them;
and when they have let
these excellent notions
slip out of their minds,
they at the same time
lose the idea of the things
that supported in the soul
the love of temperance;
and, having forgot
those things,
what wonder is it
if at length they forget
temperance likewise?
"Virtue and vice
in the same man are found,
And now they gain,
and now
they lose their ground."
And, in my opinion,
they are in the right:
for when I consider
that they who have
learned verses by heart
forget them unless
they repeat them often,
so I believe that they who
neglect the reasonings
of philosophers,
insensibly lose
the remembrance of them;
and when they have let
these excellent notions
slip out of their minds,
they at the same time
lose the idea of the things
that supported in the soul
the love of temperance;
and, having forgot
those things,
what wonder is it
if at length they forget
temperance likewise?
I observe, besides, that men
who abandon themselves
to the debauches of wine
or women find it
more difficult to
apply themselves to things
that are profitable,
and to abstain from
what is hurtful.
For many who live frugally
before they fall in love
become prodigal
when that passion gets
the mastery over them;
insomuch that after having
wasted their estates,
they are reduced to gain
their bread by methods
they would have been
ashamed of before.
What hinders then,
but that a man, who
has been once temperate,
should be so no longer,
and that he who has led
a good life at one time
should not do so at another?
I should think, therefore,
that the being
of all virtues, and
chiefly of temperance,
depends on the practice
of them: for lust, that
dwells in the same body
with the soul,
incites it continually
to despise this virtue,
and to find out
the shortest way
to gratify the senses only.
Thus, whilst Alcibiades
and Critias conversed
with Socrates,
they were able, with
so great an assistance,
to tame their inclinations;
but after they had left him,
Critias, being retired
into Thessaly,
ruined himself entirely
in the company
of some libertines;
and Alcibiades,
seeing himself courted by
several women of quality,
because of his beauty,
and suffering himself
to be corrupted by
soothing flatterers, who
made their court to him,
in consideration
of the credit he had
in the city and
with the allies; in a word,
finding himself respected
by all the Athenians,
and that no man disputed
the first rank with him,
began to neglect himself,
and acted like
a great wrestler,
who takes not the trouble
to exercise himself,
when he no longer finds
an adversary who dares
to contend with him.
If we would examine,
therefore, all that
has happened to them;
if we consider
how much the greatness
of their birth, their interest,
and their riches,
had puffed up their minds;
if we reflect on
the ill company
they fell into,
and the many
opportunities they had
of debauching themselves,
can we be surprised that,
after they had been so long
absent from Socrates,
they arrived at length to
that height of insolence
to which they have
been seen to arise?
If they have been guilty
of crimes, the accuser will
load Socrates with them,
and not allow him
to be worthy of praise,
for having kept them within
the bounds of their duty
during their youth,
when, in all appearance,
they would have been
the most disorderly
and least governable.
This, however,
is not the way
we judge of other things;
for whoever pretended
that a musician, a player
on the lute,
or any other person
that teaches, after he has
made a good scholar,
ought to be blamed for
his growing more ignorant
under the care
of another master?
If a young man gets
an acquaintance
that brings him
into debauchery,
ought his father
to lay the blame
on the first friends
of his son among whom
he always lived virtuously?
Is it not true,
on the contrary,
that the more he finds
that this last friendship
proves destructive to him,
the more reason
he will have to praise
his former acquaintance.
And are the fathers
themselves, who are
daily with their children,
guilty of their faults,
if they give them
no ill example?
Thus they ought to
have judged of Socrates;
if he led an ill life,
it was reasonable
to esteem him vicious;
but if a good,
was it just to accuse him
of crimes of which
he was innocent?
And yet he might have
given his adversaries
ground to accuse him,
had he but approved,
or seemed to approve
those vices in others,
from which
he kept himself free:
but Socrates abhorred vice,
not only in himself,
but in everyone besides.
To prove which,
I need only relate
his conduct toward Critias,
a man extremely addicted
to debauchery.
Socrates perceiving
that this man had
an unnatural passion
for Euthydemus,
and that the violence of it
would precipitate him
so far a length
as to make him transgress
the bounds of nature,
shocked at his behavior,
he exerted his utmost
strength of reason and
argument to dissuade him
from so wild a desire.
And while the impetuosity
of Critias' passion
seemed to scorn all check
or control,
and the modest rebuke
of Socrates
had been disregarded,
the philosopher,
out of an ardent zeal
for virtue, broke out
in such language,
as at once declared his
own strong inward sense
of decency and order, and
the monstrous shamefulness
of Critias' passion.
Which severe but just
reprimand of Socrates,
it is thought,
was the foundation
of that grudge which
he ever after bore him;
for during the tyranny
of the Thirty, of which
Critias was one, when,
together with Charicles,
he had the care
of the civil government
of the city, he failed not
to remember this affront,
and, in revenge of it,
made a law
to forbid teaching the art
of reasoning in Athens:
and having nothing
to reproach Socrates with
in particular, he labored
to render him odious
by aspersing him
with the usual calumnies
that are thrown
on all philosophers:
for I have never heard
Socrates say
that he taught this art,
nor seen any man who
ever heard him say so; but
Critias had taken offence,
and gave
sufficient proofs of it:
for after the Thirty had
caused to be put to death
a great number
of the citizens, and even
of the most eminent, and
had let loose the reins
to all sorts of violence
and rapine, Socrates said
in a certain place
that he wondered
if a Minister of State,
who lessens every day
the number of his citizens,
and makes the others
more dissolute,
was not ashamed
of his ministry, and
would not own himself
to be an ill magistrate.
This was reported
to Critias and Charicles,
who forthwith sent for
Socrates, and showing him
the law they had made,
forbid him to discourse
with the young men.
Upon which Socrates
asked them whether
they would permit him
to propose a question,
that he might be
informed of what
he did not understand
in this prohibition; and
his request being granted,
he spoke in this manner:
"I am most ready
to obey your laws; but
that I may not transgress
through ignorance,
I desire to know of you,
whether you condemn
the art of reasoning,
because you believe
it consists
in saying things well,
or in saying them ill?
If for the former reason,
we must then,
from henceforward,
abstain from speaking
as we ought;
and if for the latter,
it is plain that we ought to
endeavor to speak well."
At these words Charicles
flew into a passion,
and said to him:
"Since you pretend
to be ignorant of things
that are so easily known,
we forbid you to speak
to the young men
in any manner whatever."
"It is enough,"
answered Socrates;
"but that I may not be
in a perpetual uncertainty,
pray prescribe to me,
till what age men
are young."
"Till they are capable of
being members
of the Senate,"
said Charicles:
"in a word,
speak to no man under
thirty years of age."
"How!" says Socrates,
"if I would buy anything
of a tradesman
who is not thirty years old
am I forbid to ask him
the price of it?"
"I mean not so,"
answered Charicles:
"but I am not surprised that
you ask me this question,
for it is your custom
to ask many things
that you know very well."
Socrates added:
"And if a young man
ask me in the street
where Charicles lodges,
or whether I know
where Critias is, must I
make him no answer?"
"I mean not so neither,"
answered Charicles.
Here Critias, interrupting
their discourse, said:
"For the future, Socrates,
you must have nothing to do
with the city tradesmen,
the shoemakers, masons,
smiths, and
other mechanics,
whom you so often allege
as examples of life;
and who, I apprehend,
are quite jaded
with your discourses."
"I must then likewise,"
replied Socrates,
"omit the consequences
I draw from
those discourses;
and have no more to do
with justice, piety,
and the other duties
of a good man."
"Yes, yes," said Charicles.
Thus we see how Critias
frequented Socrates,
and what opinion
they had of each other.
I add, moreover,
that we cannot learn
anything of a man
whom we do not like:
therefore if Critias
and Alcibiades made
no great improvement
with Socrates,
it proceeded from this,
that they never liked him.
For at the very time that
they conversed with him,
they always rather courted
the conversation of those
who were employed
in the public affairs,
because they had no design
but to govern.
The following conference
of Alcibiades,
in particular,
which he had with
Pericles, his governor –
who was the chief man
of the city,
whilst he was yet under
twenty years of age –
concerning the nature
of the laws, will confirm
what I have now advanced.
"Pray," says Alcibiades,
"explain to me
what the law is:
for, as I hear men praised
who observe the laws,
I imagine that this praise
could not be given to those
who know not
what the law is."
"It is easy to satisfy you,"
answered Pericles:
"the law is only
what the people in
a general assembly ordain,
declaring what ought
to be done, and what
ought not to be done."
"And tell me,"
added Alcibiades,
"do they ordain to do
what is good,
or what is ill?"
"Most certainly
what is good."
Alcibiades pursued:
"And how would you call
what a small number
of citizens should ordain,
in states where the people
is not the master, but
all is ordered by the advice
of a few persons, who
possess the sovereignty?"
"I would call whatever
they ordain a law;
for laws are nothing else
but the ordinances
of sovereigns."
"If a tyrant
then ordain anything,
will that be a law?"
"Yes, it will," said Pericles.
"But what then is
violence and injustice?"
continued Alcibiades;
"is it not when the strongest
makes himself be obeyed
by the weakest,
not by consent,
but by force only?"
"In my opinion it is."
"It follows then,"
says Alcibiades,
"that ordinances
made by a prince,
without the consent
of the citizens,
will be absolutely unjust."
"I believe so,"
said Pericles;
"and cannot allow that
the ordinances of a prince,
when they are made
without the consent
of the people, should
bear the name of laws."
"And what the chief
citizens ordain, without
procuring the consent
of the greater number,
is that likewise a violence?"
"There is no question
of it," answered Pericles;
"and in general,
every ordinance made
without the consent of
those who are to obey it,
is a violence
rather than a law."
"And is what
the populace decree,
without the concurrence
of the chiefs, to be counted
a violence likewise,
and not a law?"
"No doubt it is,"
said Pericles: "but
when I was of your age,
I could resolve all
these difficulties, because
I made it my business
to inquire into them,
as you do now."
"Would to God,"
cried Alcibiades,
"I had been so happy
as to have conversed
with you then,
when you understood
these matters better."
Thus we see how Critias
frequented Socrates,
and what opinion
they had of each other.
I add, moreover,
that we cannot learn
anything of a man
whom we do not like:
therefore if Critias
and Alcibiades made
no great improvement
with Socrates,
it proceeded from this,
that they never liked him.
For at the very time that
they conversed with him,
they always rather courted
the conversation of those
who were employed
in the public affairs,
because they had no design
but to govern.
Critias and Alcibiades,
however, continued
not long with Socrates,
after they believed they
had improved themselves,
and gained
some advantages
over the other citizens,
for besides
that they thought not
his conversation
very agreeable,
they were displeased
that he took upon him
to reprimand them
for their faults; and thus
they threw themselves
immediately into
the public affairs,
having never had
any other design but that.
The usual companions
of Socrates
were Crito, Chaerephon,
Chaerecrates, Simmias,
Cebes, Phaedon,
and some others;
none of whom
frequented him
that they might learn
to speak eloquently,
either in the assemblies
of the people,
or in the courts of justice
before the judges;
but that they might
become better men,
and know how
to behave themselves
towards their domestics,
their relations,
their friends, and
their fellow citizens.
All these persons led
very innocent lives; and,
whether we consider them
in their youth
or examine their behavior
in a more advanced age,
we shall find that
they never were guilty
of any bad action, nay,
that they never
gave the least ground to
suspect them of being so.
But the accuser says
that Socrates
encouraged children
to despise their parents,
making them believe
that he was more capable
to instruct them than they;
and telling them that
as the laws permit a man
to chain his own father
if he can convict him
of lunacy,
so, in like manner,
it is but just that a man
of excellent sense
should throw another
into chains who has not
so much understanding.
I cannot deny but
that Socrates may have
said something like this;
but he meant it
not in the sense
in which the accuser
would have it taken:
and he fully discovered
what his meaning
by these words was,
when he said
that he who should
pretend to chain others
because of
their ignorance, ought,
for the same reason,
to submit
to be chained himself
by men
who know more than he.
Hence it is that he argued
so often of the difference
between folly
and ignorance;
and then he plainly said
that fools and madmen
ought to be chained
indeed, as well
for their own interest as
for that of their friends;
but that they who are
ignorant of things
they should know,
ought only to be
instructed by those
that understand them.
The accuser goes on,
that Socrates did not
only teach men to
despise their parents, but
their other relations too;
because he said
that if a man be sick,
or have a suit in law,
it is not his relations,
but the physicians,
or the advocates
who are of use to him.
He further alleged
that Socrates,
speaking of friends, said
it was to no purpose to
bear goodwill to any man,
if it be not in our power
to serve him;
and that the only friends
whom we ought to value
are they who know
what is good for us,
and can teach it to us:
thus, says the accuser,
Socrates,
by persuading the youth
that he was the wisest
of all men,
and the most capable
to set others
in the right road to wisdom,
made them believe that
all the rest of mankind
were nothing
in comparison with him.
I remember, indeed,
to have heard him
sometimes talk after
this manner of parents,
relations, and friends;
and he observed besides,
if I mistake not, that
when the soul, in which
the understanding resides,
is gone out of the body,
we soon bury the corpse;
and even though it be
that of our nearest relation,
we endeavor to put it out
of our sight as soon as
decently we can.
Farther, though every man
loves his own body
to a great degree,
we scruple not nevertheless
to take from it all
that is superfluous,
for this reason we cut
our hair and our nails,
we take off our corns
and our warts,
and we put ourselves
into the surgeons' hands,
and endure caustics
and incisions; and after
they have made us suffer
a great deal of pain,
we think ourselves obliged
to give them a reward:
thus, too, we spit,
because the spittle is
of no use in the mouth,
but on the contrary
is troublesome.
But Socrates meant not
by these, or the like sayings,
to conclude
that a man ought to
bury his father alive,
or that we ought to
cut off our legs and arms;
but he meant only to
teach us that what is useless
is contemptible,
and to exhort every man
to improve and render
himself useful to others;
to the end that if
we desire to be esteemed
by our father, our brother,
or any other relation,
we should not rely
so much on our parentage
and consanguinity,
as not to endeavor
to render ourselves
always useful to those
whose esteem
we desire to obtain.
The accuser says further
against Socrates,
that he was so malicious
as to choose
out of the famous poets
the passages that contained
the worst instructions,
and that he made use
of them in a sly manner,
to inculcate the vices
of injustice and violence:
as this verse of Hesiod,
"Blame no employment,
but blame idleness."
And he pretends
that Socrates alleged
this passage to prove
that the poet meant to say
that we ought not
to count any employment
unjust or dishonorable,
if we can make
any advantage of it.
This, however,
was far from the thoughts
of Socrates; but,
as he had always taught
that employment
and business are useful
and honorable to men,
and that idleness is an evil,
he concluded that they
who busy themselves
about anything that is good
are indeed employed;
but that gamesters
and debauched persons,
and all who have no
occupations, but such as
are hurtful and wicked,
are idle.
Now, in this sense,
is it not true to say:
"Blame no employment,
but blame idleness"?
The accuser likewise says
that Socrates often repeated,
out of Homer,
a speech of Ulysses;
and from thence
he concludes
that Socrates taught
that the poet advised
to beat the poor and
abuse the common people.
But it is plain Socrates
could never have drawn
such a wild and
unnatural inference from
those verses of the poet,
because he would have
argued against himself,
since he was as poor
as anyone besides.
What he meant, therefore,
was only this,
that such are neither men
of counsel nor execution,
who are neither fit
to advise in the city
nor to serve in the army,
and are nevertheless proud
and insolent, ought to be
brought to reason,
even though they be
possessed of great riches.
And this was the true
meaning of Socrates,
for he loved the men
of low condition, and
expressed a great civility
for all sorts of persons;
insomuch that whenever
he was consulted,
either by the Athenians
or by foreigners,
he would never
take anything of any man
for the instructions
he gave them, but
imparted his wisdom freely,
and without reward,
to all the world; while they,
who became rich
by his liberality,
did not afterwards
behave themselves
so generously, but
sold very dear to others
what had cost them nothing;
and, not being
of so obliging a temper
as he, would not impart
their knowledge to any
who had it not
in their power
to reward them.
In short, Socrates has
rendered the city
of Athens famous
throughout the whole Earth;
and, as Lychas was said
to be the honor of Sparta,
because he treated,
at his own expense,
all the foreigners
who came to the feasts
of the Gymnopaedies,
so it may,
with much greater reason,
be said of Socrates
that he was the glory
of Athens,
he who all his life made
a continual distribution of
his goodness and virtues,
and who, keeping open
for all the world
the treasures
of an inestimable wealth,
never sent any man
out of his company
but more virtuous,
and more improved
in the principles of honor,
than formerly he was.
Therefore, in my opinion,
if he had been treated
according to his merit,
they should
have decreed him
public honors rather than
have condemned him
to an infamous death.
For against whom
have the laws ordained
the punishment of death?
Is it not for thieves,
for robbers, for men
guilty of sacrilege,
for those who sell persons
that are free?
But where, in all the world,
can we find a man
more innocent
of all those crimes
than Socrates?
Can it be said of him
that he ever held
correspondence
with the enemy,
that he ever fomented
any sedition, that he ever
was the cause of a rebellion,
or any other
the like mischief?
Can any man
lay to his charge
that he ever detained
his estate, or did him
or it the least injury?
Was he ever so much
as suspected
of any of these things?
How then is it possible
he should be guilty
of the crimes
of which he was accused;
since, instead of
not believing in the gods,
as the accuser says,
it is manifest he was
a sincere adorer of them?
Instead of
corrupting the youth,
as he further alleges
against him,
he made it his chief care
to deliver his friends
from the power
of every guilty passion,
and to inspire them with
an ardent love for virtue,
the glory, the ornament,
and felicity of families
as well as of states?
And this being fact
(and fact it is,
for who can deny it?),
is it not certain
that the Republic was
extremely obliged to him,
and that she ought to
have paid him
the highest honors?