"cially let us learn to render the just homage of respect and veneration to "the divinity, whose will it seems to be, that we should have no other per"ception of him than by his effects in our favour. Now this adoration "this homage, consists in pleasing him, and we can only please him in do"ing his will.

* In this manner Socrates instructed youth; these are the principles and sentiments he inspired into them; on the one side, a perfect submission to the laws and magistrates, in which he made justice consist; on the other, a profound regard for the Divinity, which constitutes religion. In things surpassing our understanding, he advises us to consult the gods; and as they impart themselves only to those that please them, he recommends above all things the making of them propitious by a wise regularity of conduct. "The gods are wise," says he," and it depends upon them "either to grant what we ask, or to give us the directly reverse of it." He cites an excellent prayer from an anonymous poet: "Great God, give 65 us, we beseech thee, those good things of which we stand in need, whether we crave them or not; and remove from us all those which may be "hurtful to us, though we implore them of you." The vulgar imagined that there are things which the gods observe, and others of which they take no notice: but Socrates taught, that the gods observe all our actions and words; that they penetrate into our most secret thoughts, are present. in all our deliberations, and that they inspire us in all our actions.

SECTION V.

SOCRATES APPLIES HIMSELF TO DISCREDIT the SOPHISTS IN THE OPINION OF THE YOUNG ATHENIANS.

SOCRATES found it necessary to prejudice the young people against a bad taste, which had prevailed for some time in Greece. A sect of assuming men arose, who, ranking themselves as the first sages of Greece, were entirely the reverse in their conduct; for, instead of being infinitely remote from all avarice and ambition, like Pittacus, Bias, Thales, and the others who made the study of wisdom their principal occupation, these men were ambitious and covetous, entered into the intrigues and affairs of the world, and made a trade of their pretended knowledge. They were called sophists, and wandered from city to city. They caused themselves to be cried up as oracles, and walked about attended by crowds of their disciples, who, through a kind of enchantment, abandoned the embraces of their parents, to follow these proud teachers, to whom they paid a great price for their instruction.

There was nothing these masters did not profess: theology, physics, ethics, arithmetic, astronomy, grammar, music, poetry, rhetoric, and history. They knew every thing, and could teach every thing. Their greatest supposed skill lay in philosophy and eloquence. Most of them, like Gorgias, valued themselves upon giving immediate answers to all questions that could be proposed to them. Their young disciples acquired nothing from their precepts, but a silly esteem for themselves, and an universal

* Xenoph. Memorab. 1. iv. p. 803, et 805.

Η Επι θεοίς εςιν, οιμαι ωςε και διδοναι ατλ' αν τις ευχομενος τυγχάνη, και ταναντία τότων. Plut. in Aleib. I. ii. p. 148.

t Sic enim appellantur hi, qui ostentationis aut quæstus causa philosophantur. Cic. in Lucul. n. 129.

Plat. in Apolog. p. 12, 20.

contempt for every body else; so that not a scholar quitted these schools, but was more impertinent than when he first entered them.

*

It was necessary to decry the false eloquence and bad logic of these proud teachers in the sense of the young Athenians. To attack them in front, and dispute with them in a direct manner by a continued discourse, was what Socrates could well have done, for he possessed in a supreme degree the talents of speaking and reasoning; but this was no means to succeed against great haranguers, whose sole aim was to dazzle their auditors with a vain glitter and rapid flow of words. He therefore took another course; and employing the turns and address of irony, which he knew how to apply with wonderful art and delicacy, he chose to conceal, under the appearance of simplicity and the affectation of ignorance, all the beauty and great force of his genius. Nature, which had given him so fine a soul, seemed to have formed his outside expressly for supporting the ironic character. He was very ugly, and, besides that, † had something very blockish and stupid in his physiognomy. The whole air of his person, which had nothing but what was very common and very poor in it, perfectly corresponded with that of his countenance.

When he happened to be in the company of some one of the sophists, he proposed his doubts with a diffident and modest air, asked simple questions in a plain manner, and, as if he had been incapable of expressing himself otherwise, made use of trivial comparisons, and allusions taken from the meanest employments. The sophist heard him with a scornful attention, and instead of giving him a precise answer, fell into his common place, and talked a great deal without saying any thing to the purpose. Socrates, after having praised (not to enrage) his adversary, entreated him to adapt himself to his weakness, and to descend so low as him, by satisfying his questions in a few words; because neither his wit nor memory were capable of comprehending or retaining so many fine and exalted notions, and that all his knowledge was confined to question and an

swer.

This passed in a numerous assembly, and the scientific person could not recede. When Socrates had once got him out of his intrenchment, by obliging him to answer his questions succinctly, he carried him on from one to another to the most absurd consequences; and after having reduced him either to contradict himself, or be silent, he complained that the learned man would not vouchsafe to instruct him. The young people however perceived the incapacity of their master, and changed their admiration for him into contempt. Thus the name of sophist became adious and ridiculous.

It is easy to judge, that men of the sophist's character, of which I have now spoke, who were in high credit with the great, who lorded it among the youth of Athens, and had been long celebrated for their wit and learn

* Socrates in ironia dissimulantiaque longe omnibus lepore atque humanitate præstitit. Cic. 1. ii. de orat. n. 270.

Zopyrus physiognomon-stupidum esse Socratem dixit, et bardum. Cic.

de Fat. n. 10.

↑ Socrates de se ipse detrahens in disputatione, plus tribuebat iis, quos volebat refellere. Ira, cum aliud diceret atque sentiret, libenter uti solitus est illa dissimulatione, quam Græci ɛgwvetuy vocant. Cic. Acad. Quæst. l. iv. n. 15.

Sed et illum quem nominavi (Gorgiam) et cæteros sophistas, ut e Platone in telligi potest, lusos videmus a Socrate. Is enim percontando atque interrogando elicere solebat eorum opiniones quibuscum disserebat, ut ad ea. quæ ii respondis sent, si quid videretur, diceret. Cic. de Finib. 1. i. n. 2.

ing, could not be attacked with impunity; and the rather, because they had been taken in the two most sensible points, their fame and their interest. *Socrates, for having endeavoured to unmask their vices, and discredit their false eloquence, experienced, from these corrupt and haughty men, all that could be feared or expected from the most malignant envy, and the most envenomed hatred; to which it is now time to proceed.

SECTION VI.

SOCRATES IS ACCUSED OF HOLDING BAD OPINIONS IN REGARD ΤΟ THE GODS. HE IS CONDEMNED TO DIE.

SOCRATES was accused a little before the first year of the 95th Olympiad, soon after the expulsion of the thirty tyrants out of Athens, in the 69th year of his life; but the prosecution had been projected long before. The oracle of Delphos, which had declared him the wisest of mankind; the contempt into which he had brought the doctrine and morals of the sophists of his time, who were then in high reputation; the liberty with which he attacked all vice; the singular attachment of his disciples for his person and maxims had all concurred in alienating people against him, and had drawn abundance of envy upon him.

His enemies having sworn his destruction, and perceiving the difficulty of the attempt, prepared the way for it at a distance, and at first attacked him in the dark, and by obscure and secret methods. It is said, that to sound the people's disposition in regard to Socrates, and to try whether it would ever be safe to cite him before the judges, they engaged Aristophanes to bring him into the theatre in a comedy, wherein the first seeds of the accusation meditated against him were sown. It is not certain whether Aristophanes was suborned by Anytus, and the rest of Socrates' enemies, to compose that satirical piece against him. It is very likely, that the declared contempt of Socrates for all comedies in general, and for those of Aristophanes in particular, whilst he professed an extraordinary esteem for the tragedies of Euripides, might be the poet's true motive for taking this revenge of the philosopher. However it were, Aristophanes to the disgrace of poetry, lent his pen to the malice of Socrates' enemies, or his own resentment, and employed his whole genius and capacity to depreciate the best and most excellent man that ever the pagan world produced.

He composed a piece called " The Clouds," wherein he introduced the philosopher, perched in a basket, and hoisted up amidst the air and clouds, from whence he vents maxims, or rather the most ridiculous subtilties. A very aged debtor, who desires to escape the close pursuits of his creditors, comes to him to be taught the art of tricking them at law; to prove by unanswerable reasons that he owes them nothing; and, in a word, of a very bad, to make a very good cause. But finding himself incapable of any improvements from the sublime lessons of his new master, he brings his sou to him in his stead. This young man soon after quits this learned school so well instructed, that at their first meeting he beats his father, and proves to him by subtile, but invincible arguments, that he has reason for treating him in that manner. In every scene where Socrates appears, the poet makes him utter a thousand impertinences, and as many impieties against the gods, and in particular against Jupiter. He makes him talk like a man of the greatest vanity and opinion of himself, with an equal contemp

*Plat. in Apol. p. 23. Elian. 1. i. c. 13.

†A. M. 3602. Ant J. C. 12. Plut. in Apolog. Socrat. p. 19.

for all others, who out of a criminal curiosity is for penetrating what passes in the heavens, and for diving into the abysses of the earth; who boasts of having always the means to make injustice triumph; and who is not contented with keeping those secrets for his own use, bat teaches them to others, and thereby corrupts youth. All this is attended with a refined raillery, and a salt, which could not fail of pleasing a people of so quick and delicate a taste as the Athenians, who were besides naturally invidious to all transcendant merit. They were so much charmed with it, that without waiting the conclusion of the representation, they ordered the name of Aristophanes to be set down above those of all his competitors.

Socrates, who had been informed that he was to be acted in the theaatre, went thither upon the day to see the comedy, contrary to his custom; for it was not common for him to go to those assemblies, unless when some new tragedy of Euripides was to be performed, who was his intimate friend, and whose pieces he esteemed, on account of the solid principles of morality he took care to intersperse in them. It was however observed, that he had not patience to wait the conclusion of one of them, wherein the actor had begun with a dangerous maxim, and went out immediately, without considering the injury his withdrawing might do his friend's reputation. He never went to comedies, unless when Alcibiades and Critias forced him thither against his will, offended at the unbounded licence which reigned in them, and incapable of seeing the reputation of his fellow-citizens publicly torn in pieces. He was present at this without the least emotion, and without expressing any discontent; and some strangers being in pain to know who the Socrates * intended by the play was, he rose up from his seat, and showed himself during the whole representation. He told those who were near him, and were amazed at his indifference and patience, that he imagined himself at a great entertainment, where he was agreeably laughed at, and that it was necessary to let raillery pass.

It is

There is no appearance, as I have already observed, that Aristophanes, though he was not Socrates' friend, had entered into the black conspiracy of his enemies, and had any thought of occasioning his destruction. more probable, that a poet, who diverted the public at the expence of the principal magistrates and most celebrated generals was also willing to nake them laugh at the expence of a philosopher. All the guilt was on the side of those who envied him, and his enemies, who were in hopes of making great use of the representation of this comedy against him. The artifice was indeed profound, and conceived with skill. In acting a man upon the stage, he is only represented on his bad, weak, or ambiguous sides. That view of him is followed with ridicule: ridicule accustoms people to the contempt of his person; and contempt proceeds to injustice: for the world are naturally bold in insulting, abusing, and injuring a man, when once he becomes the object of their general contempt.

These were the first blows struck at him, and served as an essay and trial of the great affair meditated against him. It lay dormant a long while, and did not break out till 20 years afterwards. The troubles of the republic might well occasion that long delay: for it was in that interval the enterprise against Sicily happened, the event of which was so unfortunate that Athens was besieged and taken by Lysander, who changed it form of government, and established the thirty tyrants, who were not expelled tili a very small tiine before the affair we speak of.

*Plut de, edue liber. p. 10

*Melitus then appeared as accuser, and entered a process in form against Socrates. His accusation consisted of two heads. The first was, that he did not admit the gods acknowledged by the republic, and introduced new divinities the second, that he corrupted the youth of Athens; and concluded with inferring, that sentence of death ought to pass against him.

Never had accusation so little probability, pretext, or foundation as this. It was now 40 years that Socrates had made it his profession to instruct the Athenian youth. He had advanced no opinions in secret, and in the dark. His lessons were given publicly, and in the view of great numbers of auditors. He had always observed the same conduct, and taught the same principles. What then could be Melitus' motive for this accusation, after such a length of time? How came his zeal for the public good, after having been languid and drowsy for so many years, to awake on a sudden, and become so violent? Is it pardonable for so warm and worthy a citizen as Melitus would appear, to have continued mute and inactive, whilst any one corrupted the whole youth of the city, by instilling seditious maxims into them, and by inspiring them with a disgust and contempt for the established government? For he who does not prevent an evil when it is in his power, is equally criminal with him that commits it. + Libanus speaks thus in a declamation of his, called the Apology of Socrates. But, continues he, though Melitus, whether out of distraction, indifference, or real avocation of his affairs, never thought for so many years of entering an accusation against Socrates, how came it to pass, that in a city like Athens, which abounded with wise magistrates, and, what is more, with bold informers, so public à conspiracy as that imputed to Socrates should escape the eyes of those whom either the love of their country, or invidious inalignity, render so vigilant and attentive? Nothing was ever less feasible, or more void of all probability.

As soon as the conspiracy broke out, the friends of Socrates prepared for his defence. Lysias, the most able orator of his time, brought him an elaborate discourse of his composing, wherein he had set forth the reasons and measures of Socrates in all their light, and interspersed the whole with tender and pathetic strokes,|| capable of moving the most obdurate hearts. Socrates read it with pleasure, and approved it very much; but as it was more corformable to the rules of rhetoric than the sentiments and fortitude of a philosopher, he told him frankly that it did not suit him. Upon which Lysias, having asked how it was possible to be well done, and at the same time not suit him; in the same manner, said he, using, according to his custom, a vulgar comparison, that an excellent workman might bring me magnificent apparel, or shoes embroidered with gold, to which nothing would be wanting on his part, but which however would not fit me. He persisted therefore inflexibly in the resolution, not to demean himself by begging suffrages in the low abject manner common at that time. He employed neither artifice nor the glitter of eloquence. He had no recourse either to solicitation or entreaty. He brought neither his wife nor children to incline the judges in his favour by their sighs and tears. Nevertheless,

* A. M. 8604. Ant. J. C. 401.

Liban. in Apolog. Socrat. p. 645-648.

Cicer. I. i. de orat. n. 231, 253.

Quint. I. xi. c. i.

His et talibus adductus Socrates, nec patronum quæsivit ad judicium capitis, nec judicibus supplex fuit: adhibuitque liberam contumaciam a magnitudine animi ductam, non a superbia. Cic. Tusc. Quæst. lib. 1.