He is using rhetorical devices to show the uselessness of rhetorical devices, thereby devaluing his accusers' words.
This act of turning his opponents' own words against themselves is typical of the kind of irony Socrates uses so skillfully. We shall see that after this introductory flourish, Socrates does indeed slip into his normal conversational tone, having sufficiently parodied his opponents. A Midsummer Night's Dream Dr. Jekyll and Mr. SparkTeach Teacher's Handbook. Summary Summary Context 17a - 18a 18a - 20c 20c - 24e 24b - 28a 28a - 32e 32e - 35d 35e - 38b 38c - 42a.
Summary 17a - 18a. Page 1 Page 2. Summary Socrates opens his case with an appeal to the jury to listen to him openly and to pardon him if he slips into his usual conversational style. Commentary The sharp contrast that runs throughout this first section lies between the studied, artificial--and false--speech of Socrates' accusers, and Socrates' own improvised, conversational--and true--speech. Previous section Context Next page 17a - 18a page 2. Popular pages: The Apology.
But in how different a way from theirs! No indeed! And I must beg of you to grant me one favor, which is this—if you hear me using the same words in my defense which I have been in the habit of using, and which most of you may have heard in the agora , and at the tables of the money-changers, or anywhere else, [17d] I would ask you not to be surprised at this, and not to interrupt me.
For I am more than seventy years of age, and this is the first time that I have ever appeared in a court of law, and I am quite a stranger to the ways of the place; and therefore I would have you regard me as if I were really a stranger, whom you would excuse if he spoke in his native tongue, [18a] and after the fashion of his country—that I think is not an unfair request.
And they are many, and their charges against me are of ancient date, and they made them in days when you were impressible—in childhood, or perhaps in youth—and the cause when heard went by default, for there was none to answer. And, hardest of all, [18d] their names I do not know and cannot tell; unless in the chance of a comic poet. But the main body of these slanderers who from envy and malice have wrought upon you—and there are some of them who are convinced themselves, and impart their convictions to others—all these, I say, are most difficult to deal with; for I cannot have them up here, and examine them, and therefore I must simply fight with shadows in my own defense, and examine when there is no one who answers.
I will ask you then to assume with me, as I was saying, that my opponents are of two kinds—one recent, [18e] the other ancient; and I hope that you will see the propriety of my answering the latter first, for these accusations you heard long before the others, and much oftener.
Well, then, I will make my defense, and I will endeavor [19a] in the short time which is allowed to do away with this evil opinion of me which you have held for such a long time; and I hope I may succeed, if this be well for you and me, and that my words may find favor with you. But I know that to accomplish this is not easy—I quite see the nature of the task. Let the event be as the god wills: in obedience to the law [ nomos ] I make my defense. I will begin at the beginning, and ask what the accusation is [19b] which has given rise to this slander of me, and which has encouraged Meletus to proceed against me.
What do the slanderers say? They shall be my prosecutors, and I will sum up their words in an affidavit. I should be very sorry if Meletus could lay that to my charge. But the simple truth is, O Athenians, that I have nothing to do with these studies. Speak then, you who have heard me, and tell your neighbors whether any of you have ever known me hold forth in few words or in many upon matters of this sort. And from what they say of this you will be able to judge of the truth of the rest.
Although, if a man is able to teach, I honor him for being paid. There is Gorgias of Leontini, and Prodicus of Ceos, and Hippias of Elis, who go the round of the cities, and are able to persuade the young men to leave their own citizens [of the polis ], by whom they might be taught for nothing, [20a] and come to them, whom they not only pay, but are thankful [full of kharis ] if they may be allowed to pay them.
You must have thought about this as you have sons; is there anyone? Had I the same, I should have been very proud and conceited; but the truth is that I have no knowledge of the kind. All this great fame and talk about you would never have arisen if you had been like other men: tell us, then, [20d] why this is, as we should be sorry to judge hastily of you.
Please to attend then. And here, O men of Athens, I must beg you not to interrupt me, even if I seem to say something extravagant. For the word which I will speak is not mine. You must have known Chaerephon; [21a] he was early a friend of mine, and also a friend of yours, for he shared in the exile of the people, and returned with you.
Well, Chaerephon, as you know, was very impetuous in all his doings, and he went to Delphi and boldly asked the oracle [ manteuesthai ] to tell him whether—as I was saying, I must beg you not to interrupt—he asked the oracle to tell him whether there was anyone wiser [more sophos ] than I, and the Pythian prophetess answered that there was no man wiser [more sophos.
Because I am going to explain to you why I have such an evil name. What can he mean when he says that I am the wisest [most sophos ] of men? I reflected that if I could only find a man more sophos than myself, [21c] then I might go to the god with a refutation of the oracle [ manteion ] in my hand. So I left him, saying to myself, as I went away: Well, although I do not suppose that either of us knows anything really beautiful and good [ agathos ], I am better off than he is—for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows.
I neither know nor think that I know. In this latter particular, then, I seem to be slightly more sophos than him. I made another enemy of him, and of many others besides him. After this I went to one man after another, being not unconscious of the enmity which I provoked, and I lamented and feared this: but necessity was laid upon me—the word of the god, I thought, ought to be considered first.
And I said to myself, Go I must to all who appear to know, and find out the meaning of the oracle. When I left the politicians, I went to the poets; tragic, dithyrambic, [22b] and all sorts.
And there, I said to myself, you will be detected; now you will find out that you are more ignorant than they are. Accordingly, I took them some of the most elaborate passages in their own writings, and asked what was the meaning of them—thinking that they would teach me something. Will you believe me? And the poets appeared to me to be much in the same case [literally have the same pathos, experience]; and I further observed that upon the strength of their poetry they believed themselves to be the most sophos of men in other things in which they were not sophos.
So I departed, conceiving myself to be superior to them for the same reason that I was superior to the politicians. At last I went to the artisans, [22d] for I was conscious that I knew nothing at all, as I may say, and I was sure that they knew many fine [ kala ] things; and in this I was not mistaken, for they did know many things of which I was ignorant, and in this they certainly were more sophos than I was.
And this is the reason why my three accusers, Meletus and Anytus and Lycon, have set upon me; Meletus, who has a quarrel with me on behalf of the poets; Anytus, on behalf of the craftsmen; [24a] Lycon, on behalf of the rhetoricians: and as I said at the beginning, I cannot expect to get rid of this mass of calumny all in a moment.
I have said enough in my defense against the first class of my accusers; I turn to the second class, who are headed by Meletus, that good [ agathos ] and patriotic man, as he calls himself. And now I will try to defend myself against them: these new accusers must also have their affidavit read.
What do they say? Something of this sort: that Socrates commits wrong [ a-dika ] deeds, and corrupts the young men, [24c] and he does not believe in the gods that the state [ polis ] believes in, but believes in other things having to do with daimones of his own.
That is the sort of charge; and now let us examine the particular counts. And the truth of this I will endeavor to prove. Come here, Meletus, and let me ask a question of you. Socrates Tell the judges, then, who is their improver; for you must know, as you have taken the pains to discover their corrupter, and are citing and accusing me before them.
Speak, then, and tell the judges who their improver is. Observe, Meletus, that you are silent, and have nothing to say. But is not this rather disgraceful, and a very considerable proof of what I was saying, that you have no interest in the matter? Speak up, friend, and tell us who their improver is. Socrates [24e] But that, my good sir, is not my meaning. I want to know who the person is, who, in the first place, knows the laws [ nomoi ]. Socrates What do you mean to say, Meletus, that they are able to instruct and improve youth?
Socrates By the goddess Hera, that is good news! There are plenty of improvers, then. And what do you say of the audience—do they improve them? Socrates But perhaps the members of the citizen assembly corrupt them—or do they too improve them?
Socrates Then every Athenian improves and elevates them; all with the exception of myself; and I alone am their corrupter? Is that what you affirm? Socrates I am very unfortunate if that is true. But suppose I ask you a question: Would you say that this also holds true in the case of horses?
Is not the exact opposite of this true? One man is able to do them good, or at least not many—the trainer of horses, that is to say, does them good, and others who have to do with them rather injure them? Is not that true, Meletus, of horses, or any other animals? Yes, certainly; whether you and Anytus say yes or no, that is no matter. And now, Meletus, I must ask you another question: Which is better, to live among bad citizens, or among good ones?
Answer, friend, I say; for that is a question which may be easily answered. Do not the good [ agathoi ] do their neighbors good [ agathon ], and the bad do them evil? Socrates [25d] And is there anyone who would rather be injured than benefited by those who live with him? Answer, my good friend; the law [ nomos ] requires you to answer—does anyone like to be injured? Socrates And when you accuse me of corrupting and deteriorating the youth, do you allege that I corrupt them intentionally or unintentionally?
Socrates But you have just admitted that the good [ agathoi ] do their neighbors good [ agathon ], and the evil do them evil. But either I do not corrupt them, [26a] or I corrupt them unintentionally, so that on either view of the case you lie. If my offence is unintentional, the law [ nomos ] has no cognizance of unintentional offences: you ought to have taken me privately, and warned and admonished me; for if I had been better advised, I should have left off doing what I only did unintentionally—no doubt I should; whereas you hated to converse with me or teach me, but you indicted me in this court, where the law [ nomos ] demands not instruction, but punishment.
I have shown, Athenians, as I was saying, [26b] that Meletus has no care at all, great or small, about the matter. But still I should like to know, Meletus, in what I am affirmed to corrupt the young. His answer is that he has no fear of death. Anyone in his circumstances ought not to calculate the chance of living or dying.
He ought only to consider whether what he is doing is right or wrong. As a soldier in the army, he did not desert his post when facing the danger of death. He would choose death in preference to disgrace, for it is better to die honorably than it is to live in dishonor. As he has explained before, his manner of living is in response to a command from God to fulfill the philosopher's mission of searching into himself and other men. Therefore, to disobey this command in order to save his own life would be a disgraceful thing to do.
Addressing his hearers, Socrates spoke the following words:. If you say to me, Socrates this time we will not mind Anytus and will let you off, but on one condition, that you are not to inquire and speculate in this way any more, and if you are caught doing this again you will die. I will reply "Men of Athens, I honor and love you; but I shall obey God rather than you, and while I have life and strength I shall never cease from the practice and teaching of philosophy, exhorting anyone whom I meet after my manner, and convincing him saying: O my friend, why do you, who are a citizen of the great and mighty and wise city of Athens, care so much about laying up the greatest amount of money and honor and reputation, and so little about wisdom and truth and the greatest improvement of the soul, you never regard or heed at all?
He concludes this part of his defense by saying, "For I do nothing but go about persuading you all, old and young alike, not to take thought for your persons or your properties but first and chiefly to care about the greatest improvement of the soul. This is my teaching, and if this is the doctrine which corrupts the youth, my influence is ruinous indeed. Wherefore O men of Athens, I say to you, do as Anytus bids or not as Anytus bids, and either acquit me or not; but whatever you do, know that I shall never alter my ways, not even if I have to die many times.
If that had been the case, they would now be among his accusers. Instead, they are among his most devoted friends and loyal supporters. Socrates recognizes several of them in the audience before him. Socrates is aware of the fact that persons who have been accused of some crime will often try to win sympathy for themselves or to influence their judges by bringing in members of their own families to plead in their behalf. Socrates will not resort to any such tactics.
He feels that conduct of that kind is discreditable both to himself and to the state. There is something wrong about petitioning a judge and thus procuring an acquittal instead of informing and convincing him.
It is the duty of a judge not to make a present of justice but to give judgment, for he has sworn that he will judge according to the laws and not according to his own good pleasure. After the vote had been taken, Socrates expressed surprise that the size of the majority voting against him had not been larger than it was. Without the assistance of Meletus, Anytus, and Lycon, the opposition would not have amounted to more than a fifth of the votes, and Socrates would have been acquitted.
It was customary in Athens for a prisoner who had been condemned to death to have the opportunity of proposing an alternate sentence, which would be accepted if approved by a majority of the judges.
The penalty might be changed to the payment of a sum of money, banishment from the city for a period of time, or a number of other things, any one of which would be preferable to a death sentence.
Socrates stated that he had no money with which to pay a fine, and although any one of a number of his friends would have been glad to supply him with whatever amount was needed, he could not accept it, for by so doing he would be admitting guilt of something about which he was entirely innocent. Neither was he willing to be exiled from the city in which he had always lived and where he had carried on his activities in obedience to a divine command.
The only alternative to the death sentence that he proposed was that of being provided for at public expense in a manner that would be appropriate for one who has dedicated his life to the service and welfare of his fellow citizens. No more suitable reward could be offered a poor man who is a benefactor of the public and who desires leisure that he may use for the purpose of giving instruction.
It had been suggested that Socrates might escape the death penalty if he would cease carrying on the type of conversations that had aroused so much suspicion and controversy with reference to his activities. He would then be free to go to some foreign country, and no one would interfere with what he was doing. Socrates replies to this suggestion by saying that it would be disobedience to a divine command for him to hold his tongue. He believes that the greatest good of man is daily to converse about virtue, examining both himself and others, for the unexamined life is not worth living.
He has one favor to ask of his judges after he is gone: that they will be watchful of his sons when they have grown to manhood and punish them if they seem to care about riches, or anything more than virtue, or if they pretend to be something they are not.
Having finished with his defense, Socrates concludes with a final note of warning to those who have condemned him. They may think that because they have gotten rid of their troublemaker they will be at peace with themselves and will be honored by those who come after them.
This, however, is not what will happen. The truth is that in putting Socrates to death, they are harming themselves far more than they are doing harm to him.
That which one should regard as most important is not the avoidance of death but rather the avoidance of unrighteousness. And now, O men who have condemned me, I would fain prophesy to you; for I am about to die, and that is the hour in which men are gifted with prophetic power. And I prophesy to you who are my murderers, that immediately after my death punishment far heavier than you have inflicted on me will surely await you.
Me you have killed because you wanted to escape the accuser, and not to give an account of your lives. But that will not be as you suppose: far other wise. For I say that there will be more accusers of you than there are now; accusers whom hitherto I have restrained; and as they are younger they will be more severe with you, and you will be more offended at them.
For if you think that by killing men you can avoid the accuser censuring your lives, you are mistaken; that is not a way of escape which is either possible or honorable; the easiest and the noblest way is not to be crushing others, but to be improving yourselves. This is the prophesy which I utter before my departure to the judges who have condemned me. The Apology is in one sense a historical account of Socrates' defense of himself at the time of his trial. It is generally believed to be the most reliable record of the event that has been preserved.
Nevertheless, we must bear in mind that there are certain limitations necessarily involved in all historical writing. History is never a complete and exact account of what has taken place. It is always a record of what the historian believed to have taken place.
It is necessarily his interpretation of the event as it is viewed from the perspective of the time and place of the writing, which does not mean that the historical account is unreliable but only that it partakes of certain limitations that cannot be entirely avoided. In this particular instance, it allows for the fact that Plato's conception of Socrates may be idealized to some extent, and it is quite possible that in some cases he may have reported what he thinks ought to have been said rather than what Socrates did say.
Even so, after allowing for these limitations, we must recognize that Plato's understanding of Socrates and the manner of his defense is probably as close to the actual facts as it is humanly possible for one to attain. This is indicated by a number of different facts. In the first place, the Apology is the one dialog in which Plato is referred to as one who was present at the trial.
This makes his writing the testimony of an eyewitness. Again, the account appears to have been written shortly after the trial, in which case any in-accuracies or falsifications would have been detected by others who were familiar with the circumstances. Finally, the account in the Apology is in harmony with the reports given by Xenophon and other writers, and it is also consistent with references to the trial found in the other Platonic dialogs.
There is a bit of irony in Socrates' reference to the manner of his speech. The so-called rhetoricians of his day were noted for their eloquence, which usually consisted of an emotional appeal designed to win the approval of the audience rather than an attempt to make a clear presentation of the relevant facts.
In claiming that he is not a rhetorician, Socrates wants to make it clear that he does not employ speech for the purpose of swaying the feelings of his audience. The only kind of rhetoric for which he has any use is that of making a presentation of facts in language so clear that all can understand. Plato's purpose in writing this dialog included something more than a historical interest. He wanted to present Socrates in the role of a martyr, using that term in the very best sense of the word.
It was the character of the man as seen from within that was especially noteworthy. In the case of Socrates, martyrdom was an exaltation, something more than an untimely death of one who had been treated unjustly. Here was a man who, in obedience to a divine command, had spent his life in devotion to the public good and who would not stoop to save his own life, if by so doing he would have to compromise with his own conscience.
In making his defense, Socrates says that he will reply to each of two kinds of accusation. The first one is general in character and has to do with much of the public opinion that has arisen in opposition to him. The second one is more specific and seems quite probable that this is the one for which he has been indicted and brought to trial. The first one is related to the actual trial only in an indirect way. It is, however, necessary to deal with it at some length in order to prepare the way for a proper understanding of the case that is under consideration by the jury.
It is also true that Socrates' reply to the first accusation throws a great deal of light on the situation as a whole inasmuch as it reveals certain predominant traits of character of both the accuser and the accused.
As a result of Socrates' manner of living, a number of popular stories had arisen concerning him. Some of them were of a humorous nature and were never intended to be taken seriously but were regarded as nothing more than a joke about some of his peculiarities. This seems to have been the case when Aristophanes caricatured him in the comedy called The Clouds. Socrates had accepted it as good fun and even appeared to be amused by it.
Nevertheless, stories of this kind do have some effect on popular opinion, and there are always some people who put a wrong interpretation on them. Other stories are of a more serious nature in that they contain inaccuracies and are often confused with data that are entirely irrelevant to the activities of the person to whom they are attributed. This is what happened when Socrates was credited with certain doctrines that had been taught by Anaxagoras, the physical scientist.
It had also been rumored that Socrates was one who charged fees for his instruction and was, therefore, interested in making money for himself. Socrates had no difficulty in replying to rumors of this type. He had never been interested in the physical sciences, although he was familiar with the theories of Anaxagoras. Anyone who was well informed would not have attributed theories about the sun and moon to Socrates, whose interests had always been along other lines.
Certainly Meletus was foolish to suppose the judges would not be aware of his mistake.
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