SOCRATES.

PART II.

IN teaching those glorious truths, with M. Dacier's epitome, of which we concluded our first part, the long life of Socrates was past. Neglecting the acquisition of wealth, indifferent to political power, generally the one great object of a Greek, and especially of an Athenian, he lived in honourable poverty, fulfilling what to him was a divine mission, and for the accomplishment of which life itself were not too great a sacrifice. It is here that we have the key to his whole history. Believing himself inspired by God, whose voice always opposed or encouraged his actions, he knew not the fear of man. Was it for him to heed how man received his teachings, when God himself was their inspirer and approver? Full of this enthusiasm (and here we use the word avevoiaσuós, in its pure Greek sense) all worldly sacrifices were poor and trifling-compared with the high object he had to attain, the commands he felt bound to obey. Then as now, and in all ages of the world woe to the man who neglects the inner voice of God, in fear of man. Socrates was not made of such weak stuff. Truth to him was dearer than life. Obedience to the divine law of higher import than the applause of man. God must be obeyed, though Athens oppose. With Zeus on his side, he will not shrink, though multitudes malign. Is death to be feared, when the glorious hour of immortality is the soul's; and we leave this poor earth with its envy, and malice, and calumny, for that bright region where he might hold "conference with Orpheus and Muscus, Hesiod and Homer;" where he should meet with Palamedis, and Ajax, son of Telamon, and any other of the ancients, who has died by an unjust sentence ?* To such a man death were a blessing, and life could offer no greater reward for its labours, than to be worthy of such a crown of glory as this of immortality.

In the year 399, B.C., Meletus, Anytus and Lycon made against Socrates the following charge-"Socrates is guilty of crime, first for not worshipping the Gods whom the city worships, but introducing new divinities of his own,-next, for corrupting the youth. The penalty due is, death." Socrates was now more than seventy years of age, and as he himself says in his defence, appeared for the first time before a Dykastery; and this was a capital charge. The issue is well known. Socrates was condemned, and underwent

*Plato Apol. Soh. c. 32.

the final penalty of the law; drinking the fatal draught of hemlock.

The trial, condemnation, and death of Socrates have been the one great text on which historians and philosophers have preached discourses about the virulence, malice, and enmity of democracies towards all that is noble and good. Here, it has been said, was the best, the purest, and the wisest man antiquity has produced condemned to death by the democracy of Athens, the best and noblest democracy has convicted of a capital crime its best and noblest citizen; and that, too, after he had escaped the despotism of the merciless Thirty, whose orders he had disobeyed, and whose power he had defied. Such is, say they, the inevitable consequences of a rule of the many; and is one more important illustration of that great truth, that insecurity of life and property must always be the consequence of power being in the hands of the people. We should not have noticed this here, but for the fact, that this one Greek trial has been made the reason for the general application of a principle, which this fact itself opposes more than confirms. The trial of Socrates was in no wise owing to the democracy, but was the necessary result of his teachings upon a people unprepared for them, without regard to the form of government whatever. In no other Grecian city could he have taught his doctrines at all. Athens was the only place in which free discussion of the kind would have been allowed. Nor is there a doubt but that to the Athenian mind Socrates was an Atheist ; as many other far-advanced men have been to their contemporaries. In England itself prosecutions for opinion is still allowed by law; and we can all remember a case of trial for Atheism, in which the defendant was found guilty and condemned to imprisonmentthe humane law reforms which for late years have marked our legislation, being the only reason why the punishment was not the stake. In respect to Socrates, the wonder is as Mr. Grote, Professor Maurice, and M. Cousin have remarked*, that he was not

* Mr. Grote's words are "The wonder is, not that he was tried at all, but he was not tried till so late in his life."—History of Greece p. 2, c. lxviii. Professor Maurice says "The wonder is, how such a man should have been suffered to go on teaching so long. No state ever showed so much tolerance for differences of opinion as Athens."-Moral and Metaphysical Philosophy, c. vi. div. 11. sec. 2, 15. M. Cousin says-"S'il fallait s'etonner de quelque chose, ce serdit que Socrate ait été accusé si tard, et qu'il n'ait pas été condemmé à une plus forte majorité."-It may be only just to add here, that Colonel Mure altogether dissents from the views here advanced. In the appendix to the fourth volume of his "Critical History of the Language and Literature of Antient Greece,” just published, he says: "Had Mr. Grote reversed his proposition, and asserted that Athens was the only state in Greece where Socrates would have been treated as

tried before; and having been tried, no one acquainted with the state of Athens at the time can wonder that he was condemned.

The defence of Socrates, as given by Plato, is one of the noblest pieces of antiquity. The moral courage, the readiness for selfsacrifice, the deep devotion to truth, and the constant acknowledgment that he is himself under the protection and inspiring influence of God, which breathe throughout the whole speech, must have sounded novel to the ears of the Athenians. Accustomed as they were to the most eloquent appeals to the feelings of the judges, to the flow of tears, the passionate exclamations of simulated innocence, the heart-rending appeals of the prisoner's wife and children,-all in short, that might excite their emotions and move their pity, the defence of Socrates must have appeared strange indeed. The full triumph of the truth for which he has lived, and for which he is prepared to die, will accept of none of these adjuncts. Nay, he refuses to use the speech which the rhetor Lysias had prepared for him, and the delivery of which would, doubtless, have procured his acquittal. Having first overthrown the evidence of Melitus by the application of his Elenchus, and proved that he was entirely ignorant of the meaning of the charge he had made, Socrates proceeds to lecture the Athenians in a manner such as no court of justice was ever lectured before. We can scarcely imagine the consternation of an English court, and the readiness with which the jury would pronounce, and the judge condemn, if a defendant were to adopt such a line of defence. Socrates himself seems to expect no other decision than that arrived at. He, with us, seems to wonder that he has not been charged before, and tells his judges that it is not Melitus, Anytus, and Lycon that will condemn him, if he is condemned, but the envy and calumny of the many. For his whole life had been spent in telling unpleasant truths, in exposing the faults of the people, rich and poor, in refuting the sophisms of the pretended wise, in mercilessly criticising the works of the living poets, and ridiculing the assumptions of the rhetors and philosophers. Thus enemies had arisen on every

With the exception of a few superior men, like Plato, Xenophon, Crito, &c., who would be as ardently attached as his enemies were bitterly opposed, Socrates would have almost the whole people opposed to him. Yet, despite all this, despite the

he was treated, by the Athenians,-and that had he been a citizen of Agrigentum, or Megara, or Syracuse, or Ephesus, he would have been cherished and honoured as an ornament and benefactor to his country,—had Mr. Grote even pronounced that all or most of the religious and political bigotry of Greece was concentrated in the Athenian Democracy, and that the rest of the nation was singularly free from those defects,—he would assuredly have been much nearer the truth.”

virulence of his foes, and the unwonted nature of his defence, he was declared guilty by the small majority of six. Nothing can be said in praise of Athens greater than this simple fact. Out of a dikastery of 557, he was found guilty by the small majority of six-a thing almost incredible. In no country in the world, and in no age, we venture most emphatically to assert, would this have been the case. Charged with a crime which, to the Greek mind, was of the most fearful character, and having said so many things which, by less acute enemies, could be converted to the meaning they wished; with the whole body of learned men as his irreconcilable opponents, despising the usual means of defence, assuming superiority over his judges, lecturing them upon the necessity of carrying out the law in its fullest integrity, and declaring to them the new and sacrilegious doctrine that he was inspired by the Gods, and, thus fortified, was prepared to meet the worst which they could inflict, or he bear, it is a matter of astonishment that he was not almost unanimously condemned.

But being found guilty, there was still a way left to avoid the capital punishment. The Athenian law required that the plaintiff (to use modern phraseology) should annex to his charge the penalty which he deemed the defendant merited; if found guilty, the defendant was allowed to name a counter penalty, and if this bore any relation to the nature of the offence, it was generally inflicted. Socrates was called upon to name this counter-penalty, but, considering that he had committed no crime, but rather was the one who had conferred the greatest benefits on his country, he first asked a reward, and that one of the highest which the Athenians had ever conferred—“ What treatment," he exclaims, "do I then deserve, seeing I am such a man? Some reward, oh, Athenians! if at least I am to be estimated according to my real deserts, and, moreover, such a reward as would be suitable to me. What, then, is suitable to a poor man, a benefactor, who has need of leisure in order to give you good advice? There is nothing, so suitable, oh, Athenians! as that such a man should be maintained in the Prytaneum, and this much more than if one of you had been victorious at the Olympic games in a horse-race, or in the two or fourhorsed chariot race for such a one makes you appear to be happy, but I to be so; and he does not need support, but I do. If, therefore, I must award a sentence according to my just deserts, I award this-maintenance in the Prytaneum."*

Passing from this, he asks-" Shall I award imprisonment, and thus be a slave to the Eleven ?" or "a fine, and to be imprisoned

*Plato Apol. Soc. c. 25.

until I have paid it?" This would be equal to perpetual confinement, seeing that he was too poor to have any hope of ever being able to pay it. "Or should he award exile? For, perhaps, you would consent to this award. I should, indeed, be very fond of life, oh, Athenians! if I were so devoid of reason as not to be able to reflect that you, who are my fellow-citizens, have been unable to endure my manner of life and discourses; but they have become so burdensome and odious to you that you now seek to be rid of them; others, however, will easily bear them; far from it, oh, Athenians! A fine life it would be for me, at my age, to go out wandering and driven from city to city, and so to live. For I well know that, wherever I may go, the youth will listen to me when I speak, as they do here. And if I repulse them, they will themselves drive me out, persuading the elders; and if I do not repulse them, their fathers and kindred will banish me on their account."*

He then tells them that, go where he might, he could not live a “silent and quiet life." To this the inspiration of God would be imperatively opposing. There was the most difficult part of his defence. "For if I say that that would be to disobey the Deity, and that, therefore, it is impossible for me to live quietly, you would not believe, me, thinking I spoke ironically. If, on the other hand, I say that this is the greatest good to man, to discourse daily on virtue, and other things which ́you have heard me discoursing, examining both myself and others, but that a life without investigation is not worth living for, still less would you believe me if I said this."t

After this, because he is poor, he awarded himself the fine of one mina of silver:-"In that sum, then, I amerce myself. But Plato here, oh, Athenians! and Crito, Critobulus, and Appollodorus » bid me amerce myself in thirty minæ, and they offer to be sureties !" Can we be surprised that the penalty awarded by Melitus was the one taken by the judges, and the capital punishment the one inflicted! The noble life of Socrates was nobly consummated. His defence is a fit preparation for his death. To have awarded himself any punishment, wou'd have been a confession of his guilt; to have supplicated the clemency of his judges; to have appealed to their emotions and generous impulses; to have allowed his wife and children to have assailed the Dikasts with their clamorous wailings of sorrow, would have been to deny the whole tenor of his life, the soundness of his own teachings, and their power to carry man through great tribulation and sorrow. To Socrates

*Plato Apol. Soc. c. 27.

Plato Apol. Soc. c. 28.