Memorabilia

justly forfeit to the state. The indictment was to this effect: “Socrates is guilty of crime in refusing to recognise the

flight or cry of birds, the utterances of man, chance meetings,3 or a victim’s entrails. Even according to the popular conception, it is not the mere fowl, it is not the chance individual one meets, who knows what things are profitable for a man, but it is the gods who vouchsafe by such instruments to signify the same. This was also the tenet of Socrates. Only, whereas men ordinarily speak of being turned aside, or urged onwards by birds, or other creatures encountered on the path, Socrates suited his language to his conviction. “The divinity,” said he, “gives me a sign.” Further, he would constantly advise his associates to do this, or beware of doing that, upon the authority of thi

t not the least important, which the gods reserve to themselves, the bearing of which is hidden from mortal vision. Thus, let a man sow a field or plant a farm never so well, yet he cannot foretell who will gather in the fruits: another may build him a house of fairest proportion, yet he knows not who will inhabit it. Neither can a general foresee whether it will profit him to conduct a campaign, nor a politician be certain whether his leadership will turn to evil or good. Nor can the man who weds a fair wife, looking forward to joy, know whether through her he shall not reap sorrow. Neither can he who has built up a powerful connection in the state know whether he shall not by means of it be cast out of his city. To suppose that all these matters lay within the scope of human judgment, to the exclusion of the

ain about such matters was, he argued, to play the fool. He would ask first: Did these investigators feel their knowledge of things human so complete that they betook themselves to these lofty speculations? Or did they maintain that they were playing their proper parts in thus neglecting the affairs of man to speculate on the concerns of God? He was astonished they did not see how far these problems lay beyond mortal ken; since even those who pride themselves most on their discussion of these points differ from each other, as madmen do. For just as some madmen, he said, have no apprehension of what is truly terrible, others fear where no fear is; some are ready to say and do anything in public without the sl

asons? Will they manipulate these and the like to suit their needs? or has no such notion perhaps ever entered their heads, and will they be content simply to know how such things come into existence? But if this was his mode of describing those who meddle with such matters as these, he himself never wearied of discussing human topics. What is piety? what is impiety? What is the beautiful? what the ugly? Wha

it is not surprising that the court should draw false conclusions respecting th

ter resentment of the people, and the menaces of several influential citizens, he refused to put the question, esteeming it of greater importance faithfully to abide by the oath which he had taken, than to gratify the people wrongfully, or to screen himself from the menaces of the mighty. The fact being, that with regard to the care bestowed by the gods upon men, his belief differed widely from t

r-mindedness as touching the gods. A man who never ventured one impious word or deed against the gods we worship, but whose whole language

tus (“Apol.” 29), and Lycon. See Plat. “Apol.” II. v. 18; Diog. Laert. II. v. (

n; “The Daemon of Socrates,” F. W. H. Myers; K. Joel, “Der echte und der

kens,” L. Campbell; Arist. “Birds,” 721, sombolon ornin: “Frogs,

III. i. 4; “

ions from heaven had but manifes

entus est necessarius; “things positive, the law-ordained department of

dvised them to do them in the way in which he believed they would be done best”; i.e. he did

ee H. Sidgwick, “J. of P

imitation of this passage apparently; or if ekhei, t

Anab.” V

” 101, merimnophrontis

Parmenides, see Grote,

us and Democrit

raclitus,

Zeno, ib

beautiful and good.’” For the ph

te.” Lit. “

clesia.” See Grote, “H. G.”

for okto, eight. See “Hell.” I. v. 16; vi. 1