Callias: A Tale of the Fall of Athens

  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  THE STORY OF THE TRIAL.

  It is not too much to say that the young man was prostrated by the newswhich he had just heard, for the blow fell upon him with a suddennessthat seemed to increase the pain tenfold. He had not been indeed on thesame intimate terms of friendship with the great philosopher as theolder disciples, Crito, Simmias, Cebes, Phaedo and others had been. Buthe had regarded him with an affection and admiration that was nothingless than enthusiastic; and he had looked forward to getting his adviceabout the future conduct of his life with a hopeful eagerness that madedisappointment very bitter. To find himself in Athens after all thevicissitudes of fortune through which he had passed, and to learn thatthe man without whom Athens scarcely seemed itself, was lost to himforever, was a terrible shock. Xenophon's sorrow had not been less keen,but he had been prepared for his loss by at least a few days' previousknowledge. The news had reached him while he was on his way, and thefirst shock was over when he landed. But there had been nothing to breakthe news to Callias. He felt as a son might feel who returns home aftera long absence in full expectation of a father's greeting, and findshimself an orphan.

  So overpowered was the young man that he felt solitude to be absolutelynecessary for a time.

  "Let me talk to you about it another day," he said to Xenophon, "atpresent I am not master of myself."

  Xenophon clasped his friend's hand with a warm and sympathetic pressure."I understand," he said. "Yet, I think it will comfort you when you hearhow he bore himself at the last and what he said. Come to me to-morrow;Hippocles will tell you where I live."

  Early the next morning, Callias presented himself at Xenophon's house, amodest little dwelling, not far from the garden of Academus. He foundhim in the company of some friends, most of whom were more or less knownto the young man as having been members of the circle which had beenaccustomed to listen to the teaching of the great master. Crito,Menexenus and AEschines, and the two Thebans, Cebes and Simmias, wereamong the number; and there were others whom he did not recognize. Hewas greeted with kindness and even distinction. His host had evidentlybeen giving a favorable account of him to the company.

  "I thought it best," Xenophon went on to explain, "to ask some of thosewho were actually present when these things happened, to meet you. Imyself, as you know, was not here; and it is well that you should hear astory so important from eye-witnesses, men who saw his demeanor withtheir own eyes, and heard his words with their own ears."

  "I thank you," said Callias. "But tell me first how it was that suchthings came to pass. It seems incredible to me. I have heard that hereand there a man has been found so monstrously wicked that he could killhis own father, though Solon thought it so impossible a crime that hewould impose no penalty on it. But that a whole people should bestricken with such madness of wickedness seems to pass all imaginationor belief."

  "Ah! you do not understand," said Simmias; "I am a foreigner you know;and those who look at things from outside often see more of them thanthey who are within. I had long thought that Socrates was making manyenemies in Athens. And verily if he had said such things in my own city,as he said here, I doubt whether he had been suffered to live so long."

  "But he always spoke true things," said the young man, "and things thatwere to the real profit of his hearers."

  "Just so," replied Simmias, "but that they were true and profitable didnot make them pleasant, or the speaker of them welcome. What think youwould happen to a school-master if his pupils whom he daily corrects anddisciplines, sometimes with hard tasks and sometimes with blows, werepermitted to judge him, or to a physician if the children whom he seeksto cure of their ailments with nauseous drugs, or, it may be, with theknife or cautery, had him in their power?"

  "Truly, it might fare ill with him," Callias confessed, thinking tohimself of certain angry thoughts that in his own boyhood he hadcherished against his own teacher and doctor.

  "Yes," said Crito, "Simmias is right, nor did this matter escape thenotice of us Athenians, though we did not perceive it so plainly. You,I know, have been much absent from Athens since you grew to manhood, yetyou must have seen something of this. You were here, for example, whenthe admirals were condemned after the battle at Arginusae. Is it not so?"

  "I was here," said Callias.

  "And you know how Socrates set himself against the will of the people,refusing to put to the vote a proposal which he believed to beunconstitutional. Well, he suffered nothing at that time, because theirwill prevailed in spite of him. Yet we saw that there were many whoremembered this against him, and only waited for the opportunity ofavenging themselves upon him. Nor was he less constant in opposing thefew, when he believed them to be acting wrongfully, than in opposing themany. Listen now, to what he did and said in the days of the Thirty.Were you in Athens at that time?"

  "No," replied Callias, "I left the city, or rather was carried away fromit--" at this there was a general laugh, most of the company havingheard of the curious story of his abduction--"after the murder of theGenerals, and did not set foot in it till the other day."

  "But you know what manner of men these Thirty were."

  "Yes, I know."

  "Well, among other vile things that they did was this, that they put todeath many excellent men whom they conceived to be enemies tothemselves. Then Socrates, in that free way of his, said, 'If a herdsmanwere so to manage his herd that the cattle became fewer and not more,men would consider him a bad herdsman. Still more would they considerhim to be a bad ruler of a city who should so manage it that thecitizens became not more but less numerous.' This being reported toCritias, who was a chief among the Thirty, he sent for Socrates, andsaid to him, 'There is a law that no man shall teach or use the art ofwords.' Socrates said, 'Mean you by this, the art of words rightlyspoken or the art of words wrongly spoken?' On this, one Charicles, whowas a colleague of Critias, and was standing by him, broke in violently:'Since, Socrates, you find it so hard to understand an altogether easything, take this as a plain rule, that you are not to talk with youngmen at all.' 'Truly I desire to obey the law,' said Socrates; 'tell methen what you mean by young men. How young? Up to what age?' Chariclessaid, 'Up to thirty, at which age men are able to take part in affairsof the State.' 'But,' said Socrates, 'if I desire to buy a thing of aman who is under thirty, is it permitted me to ask what it costs?''Yes,' said Charicles, 'you may say so much.' 'And if a man under thirtyasks me where Critias lives or Charicles lives, may I answer him?' 'Yes,you may answer such questions,' said Charicles. Then Critias broke in,'But you must not talk about blacksmiths and coppersmiths and tanners;and indeed you have worn these themes pretty well threadbare by thistime.' 'Nor about righteousness and wickedness and such things, Isuppose,' said Socrates. 'No, indeed, nor about herdsmen. If you speakof herdsmen and of the herd being diminished, take care that it be notdiminished by one more, even by you.'"

  Callias listened with delight. "Oh, how like him!" he cried.

  "Yes," replied Crito, "like him indeed, and truly admirable. But suchthings do not please those to whom they are spoken, especially do notplease men in power. Then consider the number of empty-headed, ignorantfellows whose vanity and conceit he exposed every day by his pitilessquestioning. There was not a pretentious fool in Athens whom he had notat some time or other held up to ridicule."

  "And they deserved it richly," said Callias.

  "Yes," replied the other, "but I have never found that a man likedpunishment more because he knew that he deserved it. So you see that thecity was full of his enemies. And there were some honest men who reallybelieved that he did harm by his teaching. What with knaves whom heopposed with all his might, and fools whom he exposed, and right-minded,wrong-headed men whom he could not help offending, there was a veryformidable host arrayed against him."

  "I see," said Callias. "But they must have had some pretext, they couldnot put any of the things you have been speaking about into a formalcharge. Tell me, what did they accuse him of?"

 
"Oh, it was the old story, treason and blasphemy. Men who would havesold their country for a quarter of a talent, men who believe in noother gods than their own lusts, were loud in proclaiming that Socrateshad ruined the State, and was teaching the young not to worship thegods."

  "Good heavens!" cried Callias, "how dared they utter such lies? A betterpatriot, a truer worshipper of the gods never lived."

  "You are right; yet, these were the charges against him, these andother things equally absurd, as that he taught the young to despisetheir fathers and to think meanly of all their relatives and friends, asif he himself were the only friend that was worth having; that heperverted words from Homer and the old poets to a bad sense, making themmean that no work was disgraceful so that it brought in gain, and thatit was lawful for kings and nobles to beat the common people[85]--thesewere the charges that they brought against him. And then they added theaccusation that Critias and Alcibiades who had done great harm to Athenshad both been disciples of his."

  "But tell me," said Callias, "how did these liars and villains proceed?And first, who were they? Who took the lead?"

  "One Meletus was the chief."

  "What! The foolish poet whom every one laughs at?"

  "Yes, the very same. He represented the poets. There was one Lycon, ofwhom, I suppose, you never heard, who represented the public speakers,and Anytus, one of those who came back with Thrasybulus. He had beenbadly treated, it is true, banished without any good reason, but only amadman could have supposed that Socrates had had anything to do with it.These three brought the indictment. It was in these words:--

  "'Socrates is guilty of a crime. He does not acknowledge the gods whomthe State acknowledges, and he introduces other and new gods. He is alsoguilty of corrupting the youth. The penalty--death.'"

  "But such charges hardly needed a defence. Is it possible that a numberof Athenian judges found a verdict of guilty?"

  "It was so indeed," said Crito, "and I am not sure that you will bealtogether surprised when you hear what the accused said in his owndefence. I am an old man now, and have watched the courts now for manyyears; and I have seen not a few men who might have escaped but for whatthey said in their own behalf. Now I can't tell you all that Socratessaid, or even the greater part of it. Our friend Plato is going to setit forth regularly in a book that he is writing. But I can tell youenough to make you see what I mean.

  "After he had dealt with various other matters--those calumnies forinstance, that Aristophanes set afloat about him now more than thirtyyears ago--he went on: 'Some years ago, men of Athens, a certainChaerephon--you know him; some of you went into exile along withhim--having been my companion from my youth up, ventured to go toDelphi, and to propose this question to the god: "Is there any man wiserthan Socrates?" The Pythia[86] made reply, "There is none wiser thanhe." When I heard this I said to myself, what can the god mean? Hecannot tell a lie, yet I am not conscious to myself of possessing anykind of wisdom. So at last I devised this plan. I went to one of the menwho are reckoned wise, thinking thus to test the oracle, so that Imight say, here at least is one that is wiser than I. Now when I came toexamine this man--he was one of our statesmen, men of Athens,--I foundthat though he was accounted wise by many and especially by himself, hewas not wise in reality. But in vain I tried to convince him, and I evenbecame odious to him and to many others who were present and admiredhim. Then I thought to myself, I am at least wiser than this man, for henot knowing, thinks that he knows, while I at least know that I do notknow. After this, I went to the poets, tragic, lyrical, and others, andtaking to them poems which they had written, asked of them what theymeant thereby. And I found that almost always those that had not writtenthese things knew better what they meant than the authors. So Iconcluded that these also were not wise. And at last I went to theartisans, knowing that they were acquainted with many things of which Iknew nothing. And this, indeed, I found to be the case. But I also foundthat, because they had mastered their own art, each thought himself verywise in other things, things, too, of the greatest importance, and thatthis self-conceit spoilt their wisdom. These also seemed to be less wisethan myself. But all the time that I was doing this I knew that I wasmaking myself hateful to many, yet, because I was bound to obey the godas best I could, I did not desist.

  "'It is true also that many young men hearing me thus questioning othershave found delight in this employment and have learnt to imitate me. Andthey have obtained this result: they have found many persons who thinkthat they know much but in reality know nothing. But they who are thusdiscovered are irritated, not so much against their questioners, butagainst me whom they suppose to have taught them this habit. Hence comesthis fable of a certain wicked Socrates who is said to corrupt the youngmen.

  "'Nevertheless, O men of Athens, if you this day release me, I shall nottherefore cease to do that which, as I conceive, the god commands. Ishall go about the city seeking wisdom; nor shall I cease to say to suchas come in my way, My friend, can you, being a citizen of Athens, themost famous city of Greece, help being ashamed if you make riches orrank your highest aim, and care not for that which is indeed thegreatest good? This shall I still do to young or old, for it is thisthat the god orders me to do!'"

  Crito paused in his story.

  "Magnificent!" cried Callias, "but how did the judges take it? It was adownright defiance of them."

  "Certainly it was, and so they thought it. There was a tremendousuproar. When the noise had ceased, he began again:--'Do not clamoragainst me, men of Athens, but hear me patiently; 'tis indeed for yourown good that you should. For be assured that putting me to death, youwill harm yourselves rather than me. For, having rid yourselves of me,you will not easily find any one who will do for you the office that Ihave done, which has been, I take it, that of a rider upon a horse ofgood breed, indeed, and strong, but needing the spur. Such a rider haveI been to the city, sitting close and exciting you continually bypersuasion and reproach. You will not easily find another like me; andif you are angry with me, yet remember that persons awakened out ofsleep are angry with the man who rouses them, though it may be to thesaving of their lives. And remember this too: what I have done, I havedone without pay; no one can bring up this against me that I have doneanything for gain. If you ask a proof, look at my poverty--that is proofenough.

  "'And if any one ask me why I go about meddling with every body andgiving them advice, and yet never come forward and give any advice aboutmatters of state, I make him this answer: There is a voice within me, ofwhich Meletus idly speaks as if it were another god, which never indeedurges me to do anything, but often warns me against doing this or that.This same voice has often warned me against taking part in publicaffairs, and rightly so indeed, for be assured that if I had so takenpart, I should long ago have perished. And do not be offended if I tellyou the truth. No man can be safe who opposes things wrong and illegalthat are done by the people. If he would live, even but for a shorttime, he must keep to a private station.

  "'Do you not remember, men of Athens, how when you had to judge theadmirals that did not save the shipwrecked men at Arginusae, I would notput the motion to the vote? For though I had never held any publicoffice I was in the Senate, and it so chanced that my tribe that day hadthe presidency. You chose to judge all the men together, actingwrongfully, as you afterward acknowledged. And I alone of all thepresidents opposed this thing, and would not yield, no not when theorators denounced me, and would have joined me with the accused. Thiswas in the time of the democracy.

  "'And afterwards when the democracy was overthrown, and the oligarchywas in power, what happened? Did not the Thirty send for me along withfour others to their council-chamber, and bid us fetch Leon of Salamis,that he might be put to death. This they did, after their habit, seekingto involve as many as possible in their wicked deeds. Then also I showednot in words only, but in deeds that I cared not one jot for death. Forin the chamber I declared that I would not do this thing, and when wehad gone out, the other four indeed went to Salamis, a
nd fetched Leon,but I went to my own home. Doubtless I should have died for this act,but that the Thirty were overthrown soon afterward.

  "'And what I have done publicly that I have privately also. Never have Iconceded anything that was wrong to any man. But if any man would hearwhat I said I never grudged him the opportunity. I have offered myselfto rich and poor, whether they would question me themselves or answer myquestions, nor have I spoken for pay, nor been silent because I was notpaid, nor have I ever said aught to any man that I have not said to all.

  "'So much, men of Athens, might suffice for my defence, but if any ofyou, remembering that other men when accused have brought their childrenbefore you seeking to rouse compassion, are angry with me because I havenot so done, let him listen to me. I, too, have family ties.

  "'From no gnarled oak I sprang, or flinty rock, as Homer has it, but amborn of man. Three sons I have; two of them are children, one an infant.Should I then bring them before you, and seek to move your pity by thesight of them? Not so. I have seen many thus demeaning themselves, asif, forsooth, you acquitting them, they would escape death altogether;but such behavior would ill befit those who seek to follow after virtueand honor. Nor is such behavior only unseemly; it is wrong. For we arebound to convince a judge, not to persuade him, and he is set in hisplace not to give justice as a favor, but because it is justice. Verily,if I should have to persuade you to act against your oaths I should becondemning myself of the very charge that Meletus has brought againstme, for I should act as if I did not believe that the gods by whom yehave sworn to do right are gods at all. Far be it from me so to act. Ibelieve in the gods more than my accusers believe; and I leave it tothese gods and to you to judge concerning me as it may be best for youand for me.'"

  "No man," said Cebes, "could have spoken better; but it was not thespeech that would please or conciliate."

  "And what was the result?" asked Callias.

  "After all there was only a majority of _six_ against him; two hundredand eighty-one against two hundred and seventy-five were the numbers.Then came the question of the sentence. The prosecutor had demanded thepenalty of death. 'Socrates,' said the president of the court, 'whatpenalty do you yourself propose?'[87] 'You ask me,' said Socrates, 'whatpenalty I myself propose. What then do I deserve, I who have not soughtto make money, or to hold office in the state, or to command soldiersand ships, who have not even attended to my own affairs, but have soughtto do to others what I thought to be their highest good? What should bedone to me for being such a man? Surely something good, somethingsuitable to one who is your benefactor, and who requires leisure that hemay spend it in giving you good advice. There is nothing, I conceive,more suitable than that I should be maintained at the public expense inthe Town Hall, with those who have done great services to the State.Surely I deserve such a reward far more than he who has won a chariotrace at the Olympic games; for he only makes you think yourselvesfortunate, whereas I teach you to be happy.'

  "Of course there was a loud murmur of disapprobation at this. Even someof those who had voted for acquittal were vexed at language so bold.

  "Socrates began again: 'You think that I show too much pride when I talkin this fashion. But it is not so. Let me show you what I mean. As tothe penalty which the accuser demands, I cannot say whether it be goodor evil; but the other things which I might propose in its stead I knowto be evils--imprisonment, or a fine with imprisonment till it be paid,or exile, which last, indeed, you might accept. But if you cannot enduremy ways, O men of Athens, think you that others would endure them? Andwhat a life for a man of my age to lead, this wandering from city tocity! But if anyone should say, Why, O Socrates, will you not depart tosome other city, and there live quietly, and hold your tongue? I answer,To do this would be to disobey the god, and I cannot do it. And indeedto live without talking and questioning about such matters is not tolive at all. But I have not yet named the penalty. If I had money Ishould propose some fine which I could pay; but I have none, exceptindeed you are willing to impose upon me some small fine, for I thinkthat I could raise a pound of silver.' At this there was another growlfrom the judges; and some of us who were standing by Socrates caught himby the robe, and whispered to him. After a pause, he said, 'Some of myfriends, Crito and Plato and Apollodorus, advise me to propose a fine ofthirty minas[88] and offer to be security. So I propose that sum.'

  "Of course the result was certain. A majority much larger than beforevoted for the death penalty. Then the condemned man spoke for the lasttime. You will be able to read for yourself the very words that he said.I can now give you only an idea of the end of his speech. He had toldthe judges, speaking especially to those who had voted for hisacquittal, that the voice that was wont to warn him had never hinderedhim in the course of his speech, though it was not the speech that heshould have made if he had wanted to save his life. From this he arguedthat he and they had reason to believe that death was a good thing.'Either,' he said, 'the dead are nothing and feel nothing, or theyremove hence to some other place. What can be better than to feelnothing? What days or nights in all our lives are better than thosenights in which we sleep soundly without even a dream? But if the commonbelief is true, and we pass in death to that place wherein are all whohave ever died, what greater good can there be than this? If one passesfrom those who are called judges here to those who really judge andadminister true justice, to AEacus and Minos and Rhadamanthus, is this achange to be lamented? What would not any one of you give to join thecompany of Homer and Orpheus and Hesiod? or talk with those who led thatgreat army of Greeks to Troy, or with any of the many thousands of goodmen and women that have lived upon the earth? Verily, I would die manytimes if I could only hope to do this. And now it is time'--for thesewere his very last words of all--'that we should separate. I go to die,you remain to live; but which of us is going the better way, only thegods know.'"

  There was a deep silence in the room after Crito had finished speaking.It was broken at last by Callias, who asked, "How long since was that?"

  "Nearly two months," said Simmias, "but by a strange chance Socrates wasnot put to death for nearly a month after his condemnation. It sohappened that the Sacred Ship started for Delos just at the time, andduring its voyage--in fact from the moment that the priest fastens thechaplet on the stern--no man can be put to death. For thirty days thenhe was kept in prison. There we were permitted to visit him, and therewe heard many things that are well worth being remembered."

  "I want to hear everything," cried Callias.

  "You shall in good time," said Crito. "Come to my house to-morrow and Iwill put you in the way of your getting what you want."

  "But you ought to hear," cried Apollodorus, who had hitherto taken nopart in the conversation, "what the teacher said to me, though, indeed,it shows no great wisdom in me that he had occasion to say it. 'OSocrates,' I said, when I saw him turning away from the place where hehad stood before his judges--and nothing could be more cheerful than hislook--'O Socrates, this indeed is the hardest thing to bear that youshould have been condemned unjustly.' 'Nay, not so, my friend,' heanswered, 'would the matter have been more tolerable if I had beencondemned justly?'"

  There was a general laugh. "That is true," said Crito, "but certainly asfar as Athens is concerned, it was a more shameful thing."

  FOOTNOTES:

  [85] The lines from Hesiod:

  "No labor mars an honest name; 'Tis only Idleness is shame,"

  was one instance (quoted by Xenophon in the Recollections of Socrates).Another (from the same source) is the story of how Ulysses stayed theGreeks from hurrying to their ships and leaving the siege of Troy. Thecommon men he struck, but if he found a chief in the crowd he onlyremonstrated with him,

  "But if he saw perchance, some common man Blinded with panic, clamorous of tongue, With staff he smote him, adding blow to blame."

  [86] The priestess of Apollo at Delphi.

  [87] It was the curious custom in the Athenian courts of criminaljustice that the accused, if fou
nd guilty, was required to name acounter penalty to that proposed by the prosecutor. The prosecutor, ashas been seen, had proposed death. Socrates, under the circumstances,could hardly have proposed anything less than banishment, if he had anywish that it should be accepted by the court.

  [88] Rather more than $600.