APOLOGY
This work is universally known as Plato’s ‘Apology’ of Socrates, in deference
to the word apologia that stands in its Greek title. Actually, the word means
not an apology but a defense speech in a legal proceeding, and that is what we
get—certainly, Socrates does not apologize for anything! This is not really a
dialogue. Except for an interlude when he engages one of his accusers in the
sort of question-and-answer discussion characteristic of Plato’s ‘Socratic’ dialogues, we see Socrates delivering a speech before his jury of 501 fellow male
Athenians. At the age of seventy he had been indicted for breaking the law
against ‘impiety’—for offending the Olympian gods (Zeus, Apollo, and the
rest) recognized in the city’s festivals and other official activities. The basis of
the charge, such as it was, lay in the way that, for many years, Socrates had
been carrying on his philosophical work in Athens. It has often been thought
that the real basis for it lay in ‘guilt by association’: several of Socrates’ known
associates had been prominent malfeasants in Athens’ defeat in the Peloponnesian War only a few years earlier and the oligarchic reign of terror that followed; but an amnesty had forbidden suits based on political offenses during
that time. However much those associations may have been in the minds of his
accusers—and his jurors, too—Plato makes him respond sincerely to the
charges as lodged. After all, these would be the ultimate basis on which he
should or should not be found guilty of anything. So he takes the occasion to
explain and defend his devotion to philosophy, and the particular ways he has
pursued that in discussions with select young men and with people prominent
in the city—discussions like those we see in Plato’s other ‘Socratic’ works. He
argues that, so far from offending the gods through his philosophizing, or showing disbelief in them, he has piously followed their lead (particularly that of
Apollo, through his oracle at Delphi) in making himself as good a person as he
can and encouraging (even goading) others to do the same. The gods want,
more than anything else, that we shall be good, and goodness depends principally upon the quality of our understanding of what to care about and how to
behave in our lives: philosophy, through Socratic discussion, is the pursuit of
that understanding.
This is, of course, no record of the actual defense Socrates mounted at his
trial in 399 B.C., but a composition of Plato’s own—we have no way of knowing how closely, if at all, it conforms to Socrates’ real speech. In it Plato gives
us the best, most serious, response to the charges that, on his own knowledge
of Socrates, Socrates was entitled to give. Was Socrates nonetheless guilty as
charged? In deciding this, readers should notice that, however sincere Plato’s
17
18 Apology
Socrates may be in claiming a pious motivation for his philosophical work, he
does set up human reason in his own person as the final arbiter of what is
right and wrong, and so of what the gods want us to do: he interprets Apollo,
through his oracle at Delphi, to have told him to do that! As we see also from
Euthyphro, he has no truck with the authority of myths or ancient poets or religious tradition and ‘divination’ to tell us what to think about the gods and
their commands or wishes as regards ourselves.
In democratic Athens, juries were randomly selected subsets—representatives—of the whole people. Hence, as Socrates makes clear, he is addressing the
democratic people of Athens, and when the jury find him guilty and condemn
him to death, they act as and for the Athenian people. Did Socrates bring on
his own condemnation, whether wittingly or not, by refusing to say the sorts
of things and to comport himself in the sort of way that would have won his acquittal? Perhaps. True to his philosophical calling, he requires that the Athenians think, honestly and dispassionately, and decide the truth of the charges by
reasoning from the facts as they actually were. This was his final challenge to
them to care more for their souls—their minds, their power of reason—than for
their peace and comfort, undisturbed by the likes of him. Seen in that light, as
Plato wants us to see it, the failure was theirs. J.M.C.
17 I do not know, men of Athens, how my accusers affected you; as for
me, I was almost carried away in spite of myself, so persuasively did they
speak. And yet, hardly anything of what they said is true. Of the many
lies they told, one in particular surprised me, namely that you should be
b careful not to be deceived by an accomplished speaker like me. That they
were not ashamed to be immediately proved wrong by the facts, when I
show myself not to be an accomplished speaker at all, that I thought was
most shameless on their part—unless indeed they call an accomplished
speaker the man who speaks the truth. If they mean that, I would agree
that I am an orator, but not after their manner, for indeed, as I say,
c practically nothing they said was true. From me you will hear the whole
truth, though not, by Zeus, gentlemen, expressed in embroidered and
stylized phrases like theirs, but things spoken at random and expressed
in the first words that come to mind, for I put my trust in the justice of
what I say, and let none of you expect anything else. It would not be fitting
at my age, as it might be for a young man, to toy with words when I
appear before you.
One thing I do ask and beg of you, gentlemen: if you hear me making
my defense in the same kind of language as I am accustomed to use in
the marketplace by the bankers’ tables, where many of you have heard
d me, and elsewhere, do not be surprised or create a disturbance on that
Translated by G.M.A. Grube.
Apology 19
account. The position is this: this is my first appearance in a lawcourt, at
the age of seventy; I am therefore simply a stranger to the manner of
speaking here. Just as if I were really a stranger, you would certainly
excuse me if I spoke in that dialect and manner in which I had been 18
brought up, so too my present request seems a just one, for you to pay no
attention to my manner of speech—be it better or worse—but to concentrate
your attention on whether what I say is just or not, for the excellence of
a judge lies in this, as that of a speaker lies in telling the truth.
It is right for me, gentlemen, to defend myself first against the first lying
accusations made against me and my first accusers, and then against the
later accusations and the later accusers. There have been many who have b
accused me to you for many years now, and none of their accusations are
true. These I fear much more than I fear Anytus and his friends, though
they too are formidable. These earlier ones, however, are more so, gentlemen; they got hold of most of you from childhood, persuaded you and
accused me quite falsely, saying that there is a man called Socrates, a wise
man, a student of all things in the sky and below the earth, who makes c
the worse argument the stronger. Those who spread that rumor, gentlemen,
are my dangerous accusers, for their hearers believe that those who study
these things do not even believe in the gods. Moreover, these accusers are
numerous, and have been at it a long time; also, they spoke to you at an
age when you would most readily believe them, some of you being children
and adolescents, and they won their case by default, as there was no defense.
What is most absurd in all this is that one cannot even know or mention
their names unless one of them is a writer of comedies.1 Those who mali- d
ciously and slanderously persuaded you—who also, when persuaded
themselves then persuaded others—all those are most difficult to deal
with: one cannot bring one of them into court or refute him; one must
simply fight with shadows, as it were, in making one’s defense, and crossexamine when no one answers. I want you to realize too that my accusers
are of two kinds: those who have accused me recently, and the old ones
I mention; and to think that I must first defend myself against the latter,
for you have also heard their accusations first, and to a much greater extent e
than the more recent.
Very well then, men of Athens. I must surely defend myself and attempt
to uproot from your minds in so short a time the slander that has resided 19
there so long. I wish this may happen, if it is in any way better for you
and me, and that my defense may be successful, but I think this is very
difficult and I am fully aware of how difficult it is. Even so, let the matter
proceed as the god may wish, but I must obey the law and make my defense.
Let us then take up the case from its beginning. What is the accusation
from which arose the slander in which Meletus trusted when he wrote b
1. This is Aristophanes. Socrates refers below (19c) to the character Socrates in his
Clouds (225 ff.), first produced in 423 B.C.
20 Apology
out the charge against me? What did they say when they slandered me?
I must, as if they were my actual prosecutors, read the affidavit they would
have sworn. It goes something like this: Socrates is guilty of wrongdoing
in that he busies himself studying things in the sky and below the earth;
he makes the worse into the stronger argument, and he teaches these same
c things to others. You have seen this yourself in the comedy of Aristophanes,
a Socrates swinging about there, saying he was walking on air and talking
a lot of other nonsense about things of which I know nothing at all. I do
not speak in contempt of such knowledge, if someone is wise in these
things—lest Meletus bring more cases against me—but, gentlemen, I have
no part in it, and on this point I call upon the majority of you as witnesses.
I think it right that all those of you who have heard me conversing, and
d many of you have, should tell each other if anyone of you has ever heard
me discussing such subjects to any extent at all. From this you will learn
that the other things said about me by the majority are of the same kind.
Not one of them is true. And if you have heard from anyone that I
undertake to teach people and charge a fee for it, that is not true either.
e Yet I think it a fine thing to be able to teach people as Gorgias of Leontini
does, and Prodicus of Ceos, and Hippias of Elis.2 Each of these men can
go to any city and persuade the young, who can keep company with
20 anyone of their own fellow citizens they want without paying, to leave
the company of these, to join with themselves, pay them a fee, and be
grateful to them besides. Indeed, I learned that there is another wise man
from Paros who is visiting us, for I met a man who has spent more
money on Sophists than everybody else put together, Callias, the son of
Hipponicus. So I asked him—he has two sons—“Callias,” I said, “if your
sons were colts or calves, we could find and engage a supervisor for them
b who would make them excel in their proper qualities, some horse breeder
or farmer. Now since they are men, whom do you have in mind to supervise
them? Who is an expert in this kind of excellence, the human and social
kind? I think you must have given thought to this since you have sons.
Is there such a person,” I asked, “or is there not?” “Certainly there is,” he
said. “Who is he?” I asked, “What is his name, where is he from? and
what is his fee?” “His name, Socrates, is Evenus, he comes from Paros,
c and his fee is five minas.” I thought Evenus a happy man, if he really
possesses this art, and teaches for so moderate a fee. Certainly I would pride
and preen myself if I had this knowledge, but I do not have it, gentlemen.
One of you might perhaps interrupt me and say: “But Socrates, what is
your occupation? From where have these slanders come? For surely if you
did not busy yourself with something out of the common, all these rumors
and talk would not have arisen unless you did something other than most
d people. Tell us what it is, that we may not speak inadvisedly about you.”
Anyone who says that seems to be right, and I will try to show you what
2. These were all well-known Sophists. For Gorgias and Hippias see Plato’s dialogues
named after them; both Hippias and Prodicus appear in Protagoras.
Apology 21
has caused this reputation and slander. Listen then. Perhaps some of you
will think I am jesting, but be sure that all that I shall say is true. What
has caused my reputation is none other than a certain kind of wisdom.
What kind of wisdom? Human wisdom, perhaps. It may be that I really
possess this, while those whom I mentioned just now are wise with a e
wisdom more than human; else I cannot explain it, for I certainly do not
possess it, and whoever says I do is lying and speaks to slander me. Do
not create a disturbance, gentlemen, even if you think I am boasting, for
the story I shall tell does not originate with me, but I will refer you to a
trustworthy source. I shall call upon the god at Delphi as witness to the
existence and nature of my wisdom, if it be such. You know Chaerephon. 21
He was my friend from youth, and the friend of most of you, as he shared
your exile and your return. You surely know the kind of man he was,
how impulsive in any course of action. He went to Delphi at one time
and ventured to ask the oracle—as I say, gentlemen, do not create a
disturbance—he asked if any man was wiser than I, and the Pythian replied
that no one was wiser. Chaerephon is dead, but his brother will testify to
you about this.
Consider that I tell you this because I would inform you about the origin b
of the slander. When I heard of this reply I asked myself: “Whatever does
the god mean? What is his riddle? I am very conscious that I am not wise
at all; what then does he mean by saying that I am the wisest? For surely
he does not lie; it is not legitimate for him to do so.” For a long time I
was at a loss as to his meaning; then I very reluctantly turned to some
such investigation as this; I went to one of those reputed wise, thinking c
that there, if anywhere, I could refute the oracle and say to it: “This man
is wiser than I, but you said I was.” Then, when I examined this man—
there is no need for me to tell you his name, he was one of our public
men—my experience was something like this: I thought that he appeared
wise to many people and especially to himself, but he was not. I then tried
to show him that he thought himself wise, but that he was not. As a result d
he came to dislike me, and so did many of the bystanders. So I withdrew
and thought to myself: “I am wiser than this man; it is likely that neither
of us knows anything worthwhile, but he thinks he knows something
when he does not, whereas when I do not know, neither do I think I know;
so I am likely to be wiser than he to this small extent, that I do not think
I know what I do not know.” After this I approached another man, one
of those thought to be wiser than he, and I thought the same thing, and e
so I came to be disliked both by him and by many others.
After that I proceeded systematically. I realized, to my sorrow and alarm,
that I was getting unpopular, but I thought that I must attach the greatest
importance to the god’s oracle, so I must go to all those who had any
reputation for knowledge to examine its meaning. And by the dog, men 22
of Athens—for I must tell you the truth—I experienced something like
this: in my investigation in the service of the god I found that those who
had the highest reputation were nearly the most deficient, while those
22 Apology
who were thought to be inferior were more knowledgeable. I must give
you an account of my journeyings as if they were labors I had undertaken
to prove the oracle irrefutable. After the politicians, I went to the poets,
b the writers of tragedies and dithyrambs and the others, intending in their
case to catch myself being more ignorant than they. So I took up those
poems with which they seemed to have taken most trouble and asked
them what they meant, in order that I might at the same time learn something from them. I am ashamed to tell you the truth, gentlemen, but I
must. Almost all the bystanders might have explained the poems better
c than their authors could. I soon realized that poets do not compose their
poems with knowledge, but by some inborn talent and by inspiration, like
seers and prophets who also say many fine things without any understanding of what they say. The poets seemed to me to have had a similar
experience. At the same time I saw that, because of their poetry, they
thought themselves very wise men in other respects, which they were not.
So there again I withdrew, thinking that I had the same advantage over
them as I had over the politicians.
d Finally I went to the craftsmen, for I was conscious of knowing practically
nothing, and I knew that I would find that they had knowledge of many
fine things. In this I was not mistaken; they knew things I did not know,
and to that extent they were wiser than I. But, men of Athens, the good
craftsmen seemed to me to have the same fault as the poets: each of them,
because of his success at his craft, thought himself very wise in other most
e important pursuits, and this error of theirs overshadowed the wisdom
they had, so that I asked myself, on behalf of the oracle, whether I should
prefer to be as I am, with neither their wisdom nor their ignorance, or to
have both. The answer I gave myself and the oracle was that it was to my
advantage to be as I am.
As a result of this investigation, men of Athens, I acquired much unpopu23 larity, of a kind that is hard to deal with and is a heavy burden; many
slanders came from these people and a reputation for wisdom, for in each
case the bystanders thought that I myself possessed the wisdom that I
proved that my interlocutor did not have. What is probable, gentlemen,
is that in fact the god is wise and that his oracular response meant that
b human wisdom is worth little or nothing, and that when he says this man,
Socrates, he is using my name as an example, as if he said: “This man
among you, mortals, is wisest who, like Socrates, understands that his
wisdom is worthless.” So even now I continue this investigation as the
god bade me—and I go around seeking out anyone, citizen or stranger,
whom I think wise. Then if I do not think he is, I come to the assistance
of the god and show him that he is not wise. Because of this occupation,
I do not have the leisure to engage in public affairs to any extent, nor
indeed to look after my own, but I live in great poverty because of my
service to the god.
c Furthermore, the young men who follow me around of their own free
will, those who have most leisure, the sons of the very rich, take pleasure
Apology 23
in hearing people questioned; they themselves often imitate me and try
to question others. I think they find an abundance of men who believe
they have some knowledge but know little or nothing. The result is that
those whom they question are angry, not with themselves but with me. d
They say: “That man Socrates is a pestilential fellow who corrupts the
young.” If one asks them what he does and what he teaches to corrupt
them, they are silent, as they do not know, but, so as not to appear at a loss,
they mention those accusations that are available against all philosophers,
about “things in the sky and things below the earth,” about “not believing
in the gods” and “making the worse the stronger argument”; they would
not want to tell the truth, I’m sure, that they have been proved to lay claim
to knowledge when they know nothing. These people are ambitious, violent
and numerous; they are continually and convincingly talking about me; e
they have been filling your ears for a long time with vehement slanders
against me. From them Meletus attacked me, and Anytus and Lycon,
Meletus being vexed on behalf of the poets, Anytus on behalf of the
craftsmen and the politicians, Lycon on behalf of the orators, so that, as I
started out by saying, I should be surprised if I could rid you of so much 24
slander in so short a time. That, men of Athens, is the truth for you. I have
hidden or disguised nothing. I know well enough that this very conduct
makes me unpopular, and this is proof that what I say is true, that such
is the slander against me, and that such are its causes. If you look into b
this either now or later, this is what you will find.
Let this suffice as a defense against the charges of my earlier accusers.
After this I shall try to defend myself against Meletus, that good and
patriotic man, as he says he is, and my later accusers. As these are a
different lot of accusers, let us again take up their sworn deposition. It
goes something like this: Socrates is guilty of corrupting the young and
of not believing in the gods in whom the city believes, but in other new
spiritual things. Such is their charge. Let us examine it point by point. c
He says that I am guilty of corrupting the young, but I say that Meletus is
guilty of dealing frivolously with serious matters, of irresponsibly bringing
people into court, and of professing to be seriously concerned with things
about none of which he has ever cared, and I shall try to prove that this
is so. Come here and tell me, Meletus. Surely you consider it of the greatest d
importance that our young men be as good as possible?—Indeed I do.
Come then, tell these men who improves them. You obviously know,
in view of your concern. You say you have discovered the one who corrupts
them, namely me, and you bring me here and accuse me to these men.
Come, inform them and tell them who it is. You see, Meletus, that you
are silent and know not what to say. Does this not seem shameful to you
and a sufficient proof of what I say, that you have not been concerned
with any of this? Tell me, my good sir, who improves our young men?— e
The laws.
That is not what I am asking, but what person who has knowledge of
the laws to begin with?—These jurymen, Socrates.
24 Apology
How do you mean, Meletus? Are these able to educate the young and
improve them?—Certainly.
All of them, or some but not others?—All of them.
25 Very good, by Hera. You mention a great abundance of benefactors. But
what about the audience? Do they improve the young or not?—They
do, too.
What about the members of Council?—The Councillors, also.
But, Meletus, what about the assembly? Do members of the assembly
corrupt the young, or do they all improve them?—They improve them.
All the Athenians, it seems, make the young into fine good men, except
me, and I alone corrupt them. Is that what you mean?—That is most
definitely what I mean.
b You condemn me to a great misfortune. Tell me: does this also apply
to horses do you think? That all men improve them and one individual
corrupts them? Or is quite the contrary true, one individual is able to
improve them, or very few, namely, the horse breeders, whereas the majority, if they have horses and use them, corrupt them? Is that not the case,
Meletus, both with horses and all other animals? Of course it is, whether
you and Anytus say so or not. It would be a very happy state of affairs
if only one person corrupted our youth, while the others improved them.
c You have made it sufficiently obvious, Meletus, that you have never
had any concern for our youth; you show your indifference clearly; that
you have given no thought to the subjects about which you bring me to trial.
And by Zeus, Meletus, tell us also whether it is better for a man to
live among good or wicked fellow citizens. Answer, my good man, for
I am not asking a difficult question. Do not the wicked do some harm
to those who are ever closest to them, whereas good people benefit
them?—Certainly.
d And does the man exist who would rather be harmed than benefited
by his associates? Answer, my good sir, for the law orders you to answer.
Is there any man who wants to be harmed?—Of course not.
Come now, do you accuse me here of corrupting the young and making
them worse deliberately or unwillingly?—Deliberately.
What follows, Meletus? Are you so much wiser at your age than I am
e at mine that you understand that wicked people always do some harm to
their closest neighbors while good people do them good, but I have reached
such a pitch of ignorance that I do not realize this, namely that if I make
one of my associates wicked I run the risk of being harmed by him so that
I do such a great evil deliberately, as you say? I do not believe you, Meletus,
26 and I do not think anyone else will. Either I do not corrupt the young or,
if I do, it is unwillingly, and you are lying in either case. Now if I corrupt
them unwillingly, the law does not require you to bring people to court
for such unwilling wrongdoings, but to get hold of them privately, to
instruct them and exhort them; for clearly, if I learn better, I shall cease
to do what I am doing unwillingly. You, however, have avoided my
company and were unwilling to instruct me, but you bring me here, where
Apology 25
the law requires one to bring those who are in need of punishment, not
of instruction.
And so, men of Athens, what I said is clearly true: Meletus has never b
been at all concerned with these matters. Nonetheless tell us, Meletus, how
you say that I corrupt the young; or is it obvious from your deposition
that it is by teaching them not to believe in the gods in whom the city
believes but in other new spiritual things? Is this not what you say I teach
and so corrupt them?—That is most certainly what I do say.
Then by those very gods about whom we are talking, Meletus, make this c
clearer to me and to these men: I cannot be sure whether you mean that I
teach the belief that there are some gods—and therefore I myself believe that
there are gods and am not altogether an atheist, nor am I guilty of that—not,
however, the gods in whom the city believes, but others, and that this is the
charge against me, that they are others. Or whether you mean that I do not
believe in gods at all, and that this is what I teach to others.—This is what I
mean, that you do not believe in gods at all.
You are a strange fellow, Meletus. Why do you say this? Do I not believe, d
as other men do, that the sun and the moon are gods?—No, by Zeus,
gentlemen of the jury, for he says that the sun is stone, and the moon earth.
My dear Meletus, do you think you are prosecuting Anaxagoras? Are
you so contemptuous of these men and think them so ignorant of letters
as not to know that the books of Anaxagoras of Clazomenae are full of
those theories, and further, that the young men learn from me what they e
can buy from time to time for a drachma, at most, in the bookshops, and
ridicule Socrates if he pretends that these theories are his own, especially
as they are so absurd? Is that, by Zeus, what you think of me, Meletus,
that I do not believe that there are any gods?—That is what I say, that
you do not believe in the gods at all.
You cannot be believed, Meletus, even, I think, by yourself. The man
appears to me, men of Athens, highly insolent and uncontrolled. He seems
to have made this deposition out of insolence, violence and youthful zeal. 27
He is like one who composed a riddle and is trying it out: “Will the wise
Socrates realize that I am jesting and contradicting myself, or shall I deceive
him and others?” I think he contradicts himself in the affidavit, as if he
said: “Socrates is guilty of not believing in gods but believing in gods,”
and surely that is the part of a jester!
Examine with me, gentlemen, how he appears to contradict himself, and b
you, Meletus, answer us. Remember, gentlemen, what I asked you when
I began, not to create a disturbance if I proceed in my usual manner.
Does any man, Meletus, believe in human activities who does not believe
in humans? Make him answer, and not again and again create a disturbance. Does any man who does not believe in horses believe in horsemen’s
activities? Or in flute-playing activities but not in flute-players? No, my
good sir, no man could. If you are not willing to answer, I will tell you c
and these men. Answer the next question, however. Does any man believe
in spiritual activities who does not believe in spirits?—No one.
26 Apology
Thank you for answering, if reluctantly, when these gentlemen made you.
Now you say that I believe in spiritual things and teach about them, whether
new or old, but at any rate spiritual things according to what you say, and
to this you have sworn in your deposition. But if I believe in spiritual things
I must quite inevitably believe in spirits. Is that not so? It is indeed. I shall
d assume that you agree, as you do not answer. Do we not believe spirits to be
either gods or the children of gods? Yes or no?—Of course.
Then since I do believe in spirits, as you admit, if spirits are gods, this
is what I mean when I say you speak in riddles and in jest, as you state
that I do not believe in gods and then again that I do, since I do believe
in spirits. If on the other hand the spirits are children of the gods, bastard
children of the gods by nymphs or some other mothers, as they are said
to be, what man would believe children of the gods to exist, but not gods?
e That would be just as absurd as to believe the young of horses and asses,
namely mules, to exist, but not to believe in the existence of horses and
asses. You must have made this deposition, Meletus, either to test us or
because you were at a loss to find any true wrongdoing of which to accuse
me. There is no way in which you could persuade anyone of even small
intelligence that it is possible for one and the same man to believe in
28 spiritual but not also in divine things, and then again for that same man
to believe neither in spirits nor in gods nor in heroes.
I do not think, men of Athens, that it requires a prolonged defense to
prove that I am not guilty of the charges in Meletus’ deposition, but this
is sufficient. On the other hand, you know that what I said earlier is true,
that I am very unpopular with many people. This will be my undoing, if
I am undone, not Meletus or Anytus but the slanders and envy of many
b people. This has destroyed many other good men and will, I think, continue
to do so. There is no danger that it will stop at me.
Someone might say: “Are you not ashamed, Socrates, to have followed
the kind of occupation that has led to your being now in danger of death?”
However, I should be right to reply to him: “You are wrong, sir, if you
think that a man who is any good at all should take into account the risk
of life or death; he should look to this only in his actions, whether what
c he does is right or wrong, whether he is acting like a good or a bad man.”
According to your view, all the heroes who died at Troy were inferior
people, especially the son of Thetis who was so contemptuous of danger
compared with disgrace.3 When he was eager to kill Hector, his goddess
mother warned him, as I believe, in some such words as these: “My child,
if you avenge the death of your comrade, Patroclus, and you kill Hector, you
will die yourself, for your death is to follow immediately after Hector’s.”
Hearing this, he despised death and danger and was much more afraid
d to live a coward who did not avenge his friends. “Let me die at once,” he
said, “when once I have given the wrongdoer his deserts, rather than
3. See Iliad xviii.94 ff.
remain here, a laughingstock by the curved ships, a burden upon the
earth.” Do you think he gave thought to death and danger?
ȱȱȱȱȱȱĴǰȱȱȱDZȱ ȱȱȱȱ
a position that he believes to be best, or has been placed by his commander,
ȱȱȱ ȱȱȱȱȱǰȱ ȱȱȱȱ
ȱ¢ȱǰȱȱȱǯȱ ȱ ȱȱȱȱȱ ¢
ȱǰȱȱȱǰȱǰȱȱ ǰȱȱȱ ǰȱ ȱǰ
ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǰȱȱ ¢ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ
¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱǰȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ
ordered me, as I thought and believed, to live the life of a philosopher, to
examine myself and others, I had abandoned my post for fear of death or
¢ȱǯȱ ȱ ȱȱȱ ȱȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
truly have justly been brought here for not believing that there are gods,
¢ȱȱǰȱȱǰȱȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
ǯȱ ȱȱǰȱǰȱȱȱȱȱȱȱȱ ȱ
ȱȱǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱȱ ǯȱ ȱ ȱ
ȱȱ¢ȱȱȱȱȱȱȱȱȱȱǰȱ¢ȱ
ȱȱ ȱȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱȱȱ ȱȱȱǯȱȱ ¢ȱȱȱ
ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
ȱ ǯȱ ȱȱȱȱ ȱȱȱȱ ȱǰȱǰȱ
ȱěȱ ȱ ȱ¢ȱȱǰȱ ȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
ȱ¢ȱȱ¢ǰȱȱ ȱȱȱ ǰȱ ǰȱȱ ȱȱȱ
ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǯȱ ȱ
ǰȱ ǰȱ ȱȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ¢
one’s superior, be he god or man. I shall never fear or avoid things of
ȱ ȱȱȱ ǰȱ ȱ ¢ȱ¢ȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
ȱ ȱ ȱȱȱǯȱ ȱȱ¢ȱĴȱȱ ȱȱȱȱ
¢ǰȱ ȱȱȱ¢ȱȱȱ ȱȱȱȱȱȱ
ȱ ȱęȱǰȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱǰȱ¢ȱȱȱ¡ȱǰ
ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ Ĵǰȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
ȱȱȱȱ¢ȱDzȱȱ¢ȱȱȱȱȱȱDZ
ȃ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ Dzȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ǰȱ ȱ ¢ȱ
condition that you spend no more time on this investigation and do not
ȱ¢ǰȱȱȱ¢ȱȱȱȱȱ¢ȱ ȱDzȄȱǰȱȱ
¢ǰȱ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ¢ȱ ȱ¢DZȱ ȃ ȱ
ǰȱ ȱȱȱȱ ȱȱ¢ȱǰȱȱ ȱ ȱ¢ȱȱȱ
ȱ¢ǰȱ ȱ ȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱ ȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱȱȱȱ
ȱ ¢ǰȱ ȱ ¡ȱ ¢ȱ ȱȱ¢ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
¢ȱȱȱ¢ȱ ȱ ȱȱȱDZȱȁ ȱ ǰȱ¢ȱȱȱǰ
ȱ£ȱȱȱȱ¢ȱ ȱȱȱȱȱȱ
ȱ Dzȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
ǰȱȱȱȱȱǰȱ ȱ¢ȱȱȱȱ ȱ
ȱȱ ȱ ȱȱǰȱȱȱȱȱȱȱ¢ȱǵȂ
Then, if one of you disputes this and says he does care, I shall not let him
ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǰȱ¡ȱ ȱ ȱ
ǰȱ ȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ Ĵȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ
Apology 27
e
29
b
c
d
e
ǰȱ ȱȱȱȱȱȱĴȱĴȱȱȱȱ
important things and greater importance to inferior things. I shall treat in
ȱ ¢ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱǰȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ǰȱ £ȱ ȱ ǰ
ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ £ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǯȱ ȱ
ȱ ȱȱ ȱ ȱȱȱȱ ȱǰȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱȱ
ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǯȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
nothing but persuading both young and old among you not to care for
¢ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
ȱ ȱȱ¢ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ¢DZȱ ȱȱȱȱ
¡ǰȱȱ¡ȱȱ ȱȱ¢ȱȱȱȱǰ
both individually and collectively.”4
ȱȱ¢ȱ¢ȱȱ ȱȱȱ¢ǰȱȱȱȱȱǰ
ȱȱ¢ȱ¢ȱȱ ȱȱěȱǰȱȱȱȱǯȱ
ȱȱ ȱ ȱ¢ȱȱ¢ǰȱȱȱDZȱȃ ȱ¢ȱȱ¢
ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
this is my course of action, even if I am to face death many times.” Do
ȱ ȱ ȱǰȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢
ȱȱ ȱ ȱ¢ȱȱ ȱǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱ ȱȱ ȱ¢ȱȱ
ǰȱȱ ȱȱȱ ȱ¢ȱȱ ȱȱ ȱ¢ȱ ȱȱ¢
ǯȱ ¢ȱȱȱȱ ǯȱ ȱȱ ȱȱ¢ȱȱ ȱȱȱȱ ȱ¢ȱ
ǰȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ǯȱ ȱ ȱ
¢ȱȱȱȱȱ¢ȱ ¢Dzȱȱȱȱȱǰȱȱ ȱȱȱ
ȱȱĴȱȱȱĴȱȱȱȱ¢ȱȱ Dzȱ¢ȱȱ
ȱǰȱȱȱȱȱȱǰȱ ȱȱȱ¢ȱ
think to be great harm, but I do not think so. I think he is doing himself
ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǰȱ Ĵȱ ȱ ȱ
ȱ ¡ȱ ¢ǯȱ ǰȱȱ ȱǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱ
ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ǰȱ
ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ Ȃȱ Ğȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ¢
ȱDzȱ ȱȱ ¢ȱ ȱȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ęȱ ȱ
ǯȱ ȱ ȱ Ĵȱ ȱ ȱ¢ȱ¢ȱ ȱȯȱȱȱ ȱ
ȱ ȱ ¢ȯȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
ȱȱȱȱ£ȱȱȱȱȱȱȱ¢ȱȱȱȱĚ¢ǯ
ȱȱ ȱ ęȱȱȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱ ȱȱȱȱȱ
the city. I never cease to rouse each and every one of you, to persuade and
ȱ¢ȱȱ¢ȱȱȱ¢ ȱ ȱęȱ¢ȱȱ¢ȱ¢ǯ
ȱ ȱȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ǰȱ ǰ
ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ȱǯȱ ȱȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ¢
ȱȱȱȱȱ ȱ¢ȱȱȱȱȱ£ǰȱȱȱ
ȱ Dzȱ ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ¢ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ¢ȱ ȱ ǰȱ ȱ ȱ ¢
could sleep on for the rest of your days, unless the god, in his care for
¢ǰȱȱ¢ȱȱǯȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱȱȱȱ ȱȱ ȱĞȱ
the god to the city you might realize from the fact that it does not seem
Śǯȱ¢ǰȱȱȱȱȱDZȱȃ ȱȱȱȱȱ¡Ȭ
ǰȱ ȱ ¡ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ ȱ
for men.”
28 Apology
řŖ
b
c
d
e
řŗ
b
Apology 29
like human nature for me to have neglected all my own affairs and to
have tolerated this neglect now for so many years while I was always
concerned with you, approaching each one of you like a father or an elder
brother to persuade you to care for virtue. Now if I profited from this by
charging a fee for my advice, there would be some sense to it, but you
can see for yourselves that, for all their shameless accusations, my accusers
have not been able in their impudence to bring forward a witness to say c
that I have ever received a fee or ever asked for one. I, on the other hand,
have a convincing witness that I speak the truth, my poverty.
It may seem strange that while I go around and give this advice privately
and interfere in private affairs, I do not venture to go to the assembly and
there advise the city. You have heard me give the reason for this in many
places. I have a divine or spiritual sign which Meletus has ridiculed in his d
deposition. This began when I was a child. It is a voice, and whenever it
speaks it turns me away from something I am about to do, but it never
encourages me to do anything. This is what has prevented me from taking
part in public affairs, and I think it was quite right to prevent me. Be sure,
men of Athens, that if I had long ago attempted to take part in politics, I
should have died long ago, and benefited neither you nor myself. Do not e
be angry with me for speaking the truth; no man will survive who genuinely
opposes you or any other crowd and prevents the occurrence of many
unjust and illegal happenings in the city. A man who really fights for 32
justice must lead a private, not a public, life if he is to survive for even a
short time.
I shall give you great proofs of this, not words but what you esteem,
deeds. Listen to what happened to me, that you may know that I will not
yield to any man contrary to what is right, for fear of death, even if I should
die at once for not yielding. The things I shall tell you are commonplace and
smack of the lawcourts, but they are true. I have never held any other b
office in the city, but I served as a member of the Council, and our tribe
Antiochis was presiding at the time when you wanted to try as a body
the ten generals who had failed to pick up the survivors of the naval
battle.5 This was illegal, as you all recognized later. I was the only member
of the presiding committee to oppose your doing something contrary to
the laws, and I voted against it. The orators were ready to prosecute me
and take me away, and your shouts were egging them on, but I thought
I should run any risk on the side of law and justice rather than join you, c
for fear of prison or death, when you were engaged in an unjust course.
This happened when the city was still a democracy. When the oligarchy
was established, the Thirty6 summoned me to the Hall, along with four
others, and ordered us to bring Leon from Salamis, that he might be
5. This was the battle of Arginusae (south of Lesbos) in 406 B.C., the last Athenian
victory of the Peloponnesian war. A violent storm prevented the Athenian generals from
rescuing their survivors.
6. This was the harsh oligarchy that was set up after the final defeat of Athens in 404
B.C. and ruled Athens for some nine months in 404–3 before the democracy was restored.
30 Apology
d executed. They gave many such orders to many people, in order to implicate as many as possible in their guilt. Then I showed again, not in words
but in action, that, if it were not rather vulgar to say so, death is something
I couldn’t care less about, but that my whole concern is not to do anything
unjust or impious. That government, powerful as it was, did not frighten
me into any wrongdoing. When we left the Hall, the other four went to
Salamis and brought in Leon, but I went home. I might have been put to
e death for this, had not the government fallen shortly afterwards. There
are many who will witness to these events.
Do you think I would have survived all these years if I were engaged
in public affairs and, acting as a good man must, came to the help of justice
and considered this the most important thing? Far from it, men of Athens,
33 nor would any other man. Throughout my life, in any public activity I
may have engaged in, I am the same man as I am in private life. I have
never come to an agreement with anyone to act unjustly, neither with
anyone else nor with any one of those who they slanderously say are my
pupils. I have never been anyone’s teacher. If anyone, young or old, desires
to listen to me when I am talking and dealing with my own concerns, I
have never begrudged this to anyone, but I do not converse when I receive
b a fee and not when I do not. I am equally ready to question the rich and
the poor if anyone is willing to answer my questions and listen to what
I say. And I cannot justly be held responsible for the good or bad conduct
of these people, as I never promised to teach them anything and have not
done so. If anyone says that he has learned anything from me, or that he
heard anything privately that the others did not hear, be assured that he
is not telling the truth.
c Why then do some people enjoy spending considerable time in my
company? You have heard why, men of Athens; I have told you the whole
truth. They enjoy hearing those being questioned who think they are wise,
but are not. And this is not unpleasant. To do this has, as I say, been
enjoined upon me by the god, by means of oracles and dreams, and in
every other way that a divine manifestation has ever ordered a man to
do anything. This is true, gentlemen, and can easily be established.
d If I corrupt some young men and have corrupted others, then surely
some of them who have grown older and realized that I gave them bad
advice when they were young should now themselves come up here to
accuse me and avenge themselves. If they were unwilling to do so themselves, then some of their kindred, their fathers or brothers or other relations
should recall it now if their family had been harmed by me. I see many
e of these present here, first Crito, my contemporary and fellow demesman,
the father of Critobulus here; next Lysanias of Sphettus, the father of
Aeschines here; also Antiphon the Cephisian, the father of Epigenes; and
others whose brothers spent their time in this way; Nicostratus, the son
of Theozotides, brother of Theodotus, and Theodotus has died so he could
34 not influence him; Paralius here, son of Demodocus, whose brother was
Theages; there is Adeimantus, son of Ariston, brother of Plato here; Aeantodorus, brother of Apollodorus here.
Apology 31
I could mention many others, some one of whom surely Meletus should
have brought in as witness in his own speech. If he forgot to do so, then
let him do it now; I will yield time if he has anything of the kind to say.
You will find quite the contrary, gentlemen. These men are all ready to
come to the help of the corruptor, the man who has harmed their kindred, b
as Meletus and Anytus say. Now those who were corrupted might well
have reason to help me, but the uncorrupted, their kindred who are older
men, have no reason to help me except the right and proper one, that they
know that Meletus is lying and that I am telling the truth.
Very well, gentlemen. This, and maybe other similar things, is what I
have to say in my defense. Perhaps one of you might be angry as he recalls c
that when he himself stood trial on a less dangerous charge, he begged
and implored the jurymen with many tears, that he brought his children
and many of his friends and family into court to arouse as much pity as
he could, but that I do none of these things, even though I may seem to
be running the ultimate risk. Thinking of this, he might feel resentful d
toward me and, angry about this, cast his vote in anger. If there is such
a one among you—I do not deem there is, but if there is—I think it would
be right to say in reply: My good sir, I too have a household and, in
Homer’s phrase, I am not born “from oak or rock” but from men, so that
I have a family, indeed three sons, men of Athens, of whom one is an
adolescent while two are children. Nevertheless, I will not beg you to
acquit me by bringing them here. Why do I do none of these things? Not
through arrogance, gentlemen, nor through lack of respect for you. Whether e
I am brave in the face of death is another matter, but with regard to my
reputation and yours and that of the whole city, it does not seem right to
me to do these things, especially at my age and with my reputation. For
it is generally believed, whether it be true or false, that in certain respects
Socrates is superior to the majority of men. Now if those of you who are 35
considered superior, be it in wisdom or courage or whatever other virtue
makes them so, are seen behaving like that, it would be a disgrace. Yet I
have often seen them do this sort of thing when standing trial, men who
are thought to be somebody, doing amazing things as if they thought it
a terrible thing to die, and as if they were to be immortal if you did not
execute them. I think these men bring shame upon the city so that a b
stranger, too, would assume that those who are outstanding in virtue
among the Athenians, whom they themselves select from themselves to
fill offices of state and receive other honors, are in no way better than
women. You should not act like that, men of Athens, those of you who
have any reputation at all, and if we do, you should not allow it. You
should make it very clear that you will more readily convict a man who
performs these pitiful dramatics in court and so makes the city a laughingstock, than a man who keeps quiet.
Quite apart from the question of reputation, gentlemen, I do not think c
it right to supplicate the jury and to be acquitted because of this, but to
teach and persuade them. It is not the purpose of a juryman’s office to
give justice as a favor to whoever seems good to him, but to judge according
32 Apology
to law, and this he has sworn to do. We should not accustom you to
perjure yourselves, nor should you make a habit of it. This is irreverent
conduct for either of us.
d Do not deem it right for me, men of Athens, that I should act towards
you in a way that I do not consider to be good or just or pious, especially,
by Zeus, as I am being prosecuted by Meletus here for impiety; clearly, if
I convinced you by my supplication to do violence to your oath of office,
I would be teaching you not to believe that there are gods, and my defense
would convict me of not believing in them. This is far from being the case,
gentlemen, for I do believe in them as none of my accusers do. I leave it
to you and the god to judge me in the way that will be best for me and
for you.
[The jury now gives its verdict of guilty, and Meletus asks for the
penalty of death.]
e There are many other reasons for my not being angry with you for
36 convicting me, men of Athens, and what happened was not unexpected.
I am much more surprised at the number of votes cast on each side for I
did not think the decision would be by so few votes but by a great many.
As it is, a switch of only thirty votes would have acquitted me. I think
b myself that I have been cleared of Meletus’ charges, and not only this, but
it is clear to all that, if Anytus and Lycon had not joined him in accusing
me, he would have been fined a thousand drachmas for not receiving a
fifth of the votes.
He assesses the penalty at death. So be it. What counter-assessment
should I propose to you, men of Athens? Clearly it should be a penalty I
deserve, and what do I deserve to suffer or to pay because I have deliberately not led a quiet life but have neglected what occupies most people:
wealth, household affairs, the position of general or public orator or the
other offices, the political clubs and factions that exist in the city? I thought
c myself too honest to survive if I occupied myself with those things. I did
not follow that path that would have made me of no use either to you or
to myself, but I went to each of you privately and conferred upon him
what I say is the greatest benefit, by trying to persuade him not to care
for any of his belongings before caring that he himself should be as good
and as wise as possible, not to care for the city’s possessions more than
d for the city itself, and to care for other things in the same way. What do
I deserve for being such a man? Some good, men of Athens, if I must truly
make an assessment according to my deserts, and something suitable.
What is suitable for a poor benefactor who needs leisure to exhort you?
Nothing is more suitable, gentlemen, than for such a man to be fed in the
Prytaneum,7 much more suitable for him than for any one of you who has
won a victory at Olympia with a pair or a team of horses. The Olympian
7. The Prytaneum was the magistrates’ hall or town hall of Athens in which public
entertainments were given, particularly to Olympian victors on their return home.
Apology 33
victor makes you think yourself happy; I make you be happy. Besides, he e
does not need food, but I do. So if I must make a just assessment of what
I deserve, I assess it as this: free meals in the Prytaneum. 37
When I say this you may think, as when I spoke of appeals to pity and
entreaties, that I speak arrogantly, but that is not the case, men of Athens;
rather it is like this: I am convinced that I never willingly wrong anyone,
but I am not convincing you of this, for we have talked together but a
short time. If it were the law with us, as it is elsewhere, that a trial for life b
should not last one but many days, you would be convinced, but now it
is not easy to dispel great slanders in a short time. Since I am convinced
that I wrong no one, I am not likely to wrong myself, to say that I deserve
some evil and to make some such assessment against myself. What should
I fear? That I should suffer the penalty Meletus has assessed against me,
of which I say I do not know whether it is good or bad? Am I then to
choose in preference to this something that I know very well to be an evil
and assess the penalty at that? Imprisonment? Why should I live in prison, c
always subjected to the ruling magistrates, the Eleven? A fine, and imprisonment until I pay it? That would be the same thing for me, as I have no
money. Exile? for perhaps you might accept that assessment.
I should have to be inordinately fond of life, men of Athens, to be so
unreasonable as to suppose that other men will easily tolerate my company
and conversation when you, my fellow citizens, have been unable to endure d
them, but found them a burden and resented them so that you are now
seeking to get rid of them. Far from it, gentlemen. It would be a fine life
at my age to be driven out of one city after another, for I know very well
that wherever I go the young men will listen to my talk as they do here. e
If I drive them away, they will themselves persuade their elders to drive
me out; if I do not drive them away, their fathers and relations will drive
me out on their behalf.
Perhaps someone might say: But Socrates, if you leave us will you not
be able to live quietly, without talking? Now this is the most difficult point
on which to convince some of you. If I say that it is impossible for me to 38
keep quiet because that means disobeying the god, you will not believe
me and will think I am being ironical. On the other hand, if I say that it
is the greatest good for a man to discuss virtue every day and those other
things about which you hear me conversing and testing myself and others,
for the unexamined life is not worth living for men, you will believe me
even less.
What I say is true, gentlemen, but it is not easy to convince you. At the b
same time, I am not accustomed to think that I deserve any penalty. If I
had money, I would assess the penalty at the amount I could pay, for that
would not hurt me, but I have none, unless you are willing to set the
penalty at the amount I can pay, and perhaps I could pay you one mina
of silver.8 So that is my assessment.
8. One mina was the equivalent of 100 drachmas. In the late fifth century one drachma
was the standard daily wage of a laborer. A mina, then, was a considerable sum.
34 Apology
Plato here, men of Athens, and Crito and Critobulus and Apollodorus
bid me put the penalty at thirty minas, and they will stand surety for
the money. Well then, that is my assessment, and they will be sufficient
guarantee of payment.
[The jury now votes again and sentences Socrates to death.]
c It is for the sake of a short time, men of Athens, that you will acquire
the reputation and the guilt, in the eyes of those who want to denigrate
the city, of having killed Socrates, a wise man, for they who want to revile
you will say that I am wise even if I am not. If you had waited but a little
while, this would have happened of its own accord. You see my age, that
d I am already advanced in years and close to death. I am saying this not
to all of you but to those who condemned me to death, and to these same
ones I say: Perhaps you think that I was convicted for lack of such words
as might have convinced you, if I thought I should say or do all I could
to avoid my sentence. Far from it. I was convicted because I lacked not
words but boldness and shamelessness and the willingness to say to you
what you would most gladly have heard from me, lamentations and tears
e and my saying and doing many things that I say are unworthy of me but
that you are accustomed to hear from others. I did not think then that the
danger I ran should make me do anything mean, nor do I now regret the
nature of my defense. I would much rather die after this kind of defense
than live after making the other kind. Neither I nor any other man should,
39 on trial or in war, contrive to avoid death at any cost. Indeed it is often
obvious in battle that one could escape death by throwing away one’s
weapons and by turning to supplicate one’s pursuers, and there are many
ways to avoid death in every kind of danger if one will venture to do or
b say anything to avoid it. It is not difficult to avoid death, gentlemen; it is
much more difficult to avoid wickedness, for it runs faster than death.
Slow and elderly as I am, I have been caught by the slower pursuer,
whereas my accusers, being clever and sharp, have been caught by the
quicker, wickedness. I leave you now, condemned to death by you, but
they are condemned by truth to wickedness and injustice. So I maintain
my assessment, and they maintain theirs. This perhaps had to happen,
and I think it is as it should be.
c Now I want to prophesy to those who convicted me, for I am at the point
when men prophesy most, when they are about to die. I say gentlemen, to
those who voted to kill me, that vengeance will come upon you immediately after my death, a vengeance much harder to bear than that which
you took in killing me. You did this in the belief that you would avoid
giving an account of your life, but I maintain that quite the opposite will
d happen to you. There will be more people to test you, whom I now held
back, but you did not notice it. They will be more difficult to deal with
as they will be younger and you will resent them more. You are wrong
if you believe that by killing people you will prevent anyone from reproach-
Apology 35
ing you for not living in the right way. To escape such tests is neither
possible nor good, but it is best and easiest not to discredit others but to
prepare oneself to be as good as possible. With this prophecy to you who
convicted me, I part from you.
I should be glad to discuss what has happened with those who voted e
for my acquittal during the time that the officers of the court are busy and
I do not yet have to depart to my death. So, gentlemen, stay with me
awhile, for nothing prevents us from talking to each other while it is
allowed. To you, as being my friends, I want to show the meaning of what 40
has occurred. A surprising thing has happened to me, jurymen—you I
would rightly call jurymen. At all previous times my familiar prophetic
power, my spiritual manifestation, frequently opposed me, even in small
matters, when I was about to do something wrong, but now that, as you
can see for yourselves, I was faced with what one might think, and what
is generally thought to be, the worst of evils, my divine sign has not
opposed me, either when I left home at dawn, or when I came into court, b
or at any time that I was about to say something during my speech. Yet
in other talks it often held me back in the middle of my speaking, but
now it has opposed no word or deed of mine. What do I think is the
reason for this? I will tell you. What has happened to me may well be a
good thing, and those of us who believe death to be an evil are certainly
mistaken. I have convincing proof of this, for it is impossible that my c
familiar sign did not oppose me if I was not about to do what was right.
Let us reflect in this way, too, that there is good hope that death is a
blessing, for it is one of two things: either the dead are nothing and have
no perception of anything, or it is, as we are told, a change and a relocating
for the soul from here to another place. If it is complete lack of perception, d
like a dreamless sleep, then death would be a great advantage. For I think
that if one had to pick out that night during which a man slept soundly
and did not dream, put beside it the other nights and days of his life, and
then see how many days and nights had been better and more pleasant
than that night, not only a private person but the great king would find
them easy to count compared with the other days and nights. If death is e
like this I say it is an advantage, for all eternity would then seem to be
no more than a single night. If, on the other hand, death is a change from
here to another place, and what we are told is true and all who have died
are there, what greater blessing could there be, gentlemen of the jury? If 41
anyone arriving in Hades will have escaped from those who call themselves
jurymen here, and will find those true jurymen who are said to sit in
judgment there, Minos and Rhadamanthus and Aeacus and Triptolemus
and the other demi-gods who have been upright in their own life, would
that be a poor kind of change? Again, what would one of you give to keep
company with Orpheus and Musaeus, Hesiod and Homer? I am willing
to die many times if that is true. It would be a wonderful way for me to
spend my time whenever I met Palamedes and Ajax, the son of Telamon, b
and any other of the men of old who died through an unjust conviction,
36 Apology
to compare my experience with theirs. I think it would be pleasant. Most
important, I could spend my time testing and examining people there, as
I do here, as to who among them is wise, and who thinks he is, but is not.
What would one not give, gentlemen of the jury, for the opportunity to
c examine the man who led the great expedition against Troy, or Odysseus,
or Sisyphus, and innumerable other men and women one could mention?
It would be an extraordinary happiness to talk with them, to keep company
with them and examine them. In any case, they would certainly not put
one to death for doing so. They are happier there than we are here in
other respects, and for the rest of time they are deathless, if indeed what
we are told is true.
You too must be of good hope as regards death, gentlemen of the jury,
d and keep this one truth in mind, that a good man cannot be harmed either
in life or in death, and that his affairs are not neglected by the gods. What
has happened to me now has not happened of itself, but it is clear to me
that it was better for me to die now and to escape from trouble. That is
why my divine sign did not oppose me at any point. So I am certainly
not angry with those who convicted me, or with my accusers. Of course
that was not their purpose when they accused and convicted me, but they
e thought they were hurting me, and for this they deserve blame. This much
I ask from them: when my sons grow up, avenge yourselves by causing
them the same kind of grief that I caused you, if you think they care for
money or anything else more than they care for virtue, or if they think
they are somebody when they are nobody. Reproach them as I reproach
you, that they do not care for the right things and think they are worthy
42 when they are not worthy of anything. If you do this, I shall have been
justly treated by you, and my sons also.
Now the hour to part has come. I go to die, you go to live. Which of
us goes to the better lot is known to no one, except the god.
TCHR5010 Theory to practice: Professional Philosophy Assessment
TCHR5010 Theory to practice: Professional Philosophy Assessment TCHR5010 Theory to practice: Competency and capability of Preschoolers Assessment One: Portfolio Length: 1500 words Professional Philosophy Task 1 An educational philosophy working with preschool students is based in the policies, approaches, and the EYLF principles. However, the most important principle is that children’s lives are defined by […]
