The Dialogue on _The Genius of Socrates_, to follow the familiar Latin
title, is in the main a detailed and spirited account of a gallant
exploit, the recovery of the Cadmeia, or citadel of Thebes,
treacherously taken by the Spartans, with the aid of the Theban
oligarchs, two years before. The recovery was effected in the winter of
379-378 B.C. by a party of Theban patriots, returning from exile in
Athens, led by Pelopidas. The discussions as to the real meaning of the
‘daemonic Sign’ of Socrates form interludes which fill in the hours of
waiting, and serve to relieve the tension of the narrative. It is as
though Ulysses were heard discoursing to Menelaus within the Wooden
Horse on the personality of Pallas Athene, with Helen prowling around
outside. There is nothing strained or dramatic, in any disparaging
sense, in speculation thus rubbing shoulders with action. The simplicity
and good faith of the speakers, and the attractive personality of
Epaminondas, forbid any suspicion of affectation. Thus the Dialogue
serves a double purpose: it redeems the character of the leading
Thebans, and of Pelopidas in particular, from the habitual disparagement
of Xenophon and others; and it redeems the intellectual character of the
Boeotians from the reproach against which the most brilliant of Greek
poets, himself a son of Thebes, protests, ‘Swine of Boeotia’. For the
chief speaker on the Socratic question is Simmias, and Cebes is present,
Thebans whose names are for ever associated with the last hours of the
Athenian Master; and the story is brightened by glimpses into the home
of Epaminondas, and by hallowed memories of the Pythagorean brotherhood.
Early in 382 B.C. the Spartans had dispatched a force against Olynthus,
the first division under Eudamidas, the second under his brother
Phoebidas. The latter lingered under the walls of Thebes; and, whether
led by personal ambition, or receiving secret orders from home, allowed
himself to intrigue with the oligarchical leaders, who, though their
party was not in power, were strong enough to be represented on the
board of Polemarchs by Leontides, another, or the other, being Ismenias.
Guided by Leontides, the Spartans, one hot summer day, seized the
Cadmeia; Leontides arrested his colleague Ismenias, and caused Archias
to be made Polemarch in his place. The popular leaders, some four
hundred in number, took refuge in Athens. The Spartans disclaimed the
action of Phoebidas, who was fined and superseded; and appropriated its
results, strengthening the garrison of the Cadmeia. A commission of
judges from the confederate states was appointed by Sparta to try
Ismenias on a vague charge of Medizing; he was condemned and executed.
Of the two Polemarchs, Archias was a man of pleasure, Leontides one of
severe private life, but an unscrupulous party leader. He caused the
lives of the refugees in Athens to be attempted, successfully in at
least one case, that of Androcleidas. Of the patriots, Pelopidas, who
had been formally exiled, was the leading spirit; Epaminondas, who
remained at home, held back for good reasons which are stated in the
course of the Dialogue (p. 9). One of the most useful confederates was
Phyllidas; he had himself, when on a visit to Athens, suggested the
enterprise, but he managed to retain the confidence of the party now in
possession of Thebes, and held the office of Secretary to the
Polemarchs.
These facts are assumed to be familiar to his hearers by Capheisias,
brother of Epaminondas, who had himself joined the liberators without
any scruples, and later on had been sent to Athens on an embassy. His
story of the sequel is told to a mixed company of Athenians and Thebans.
It is a perfectly clear one, and needs no comment.
The facts are again told by Plutarch in his _Life of Pelopidas_. The
_Lives_ were the work of his later years; and the present Dialogue, with
its fuller detail and more varied colouring, is an earlier attempt to
draw an historical picture, a work of art which will bear the close
inspection of those who love to hear of virtue, or valour, in action.
The events are also narrated by Xenophon, who, from his usual
Lacedaemonian and anti-Theban bias, omits all mention of Pelopidas.
Thirlwall has preferred to base his account upon Plutarch; Grote follows
Xenophon, but with a strong protest against his narrowness.
The conduct of Sparta justifies the allegation made by the Athenians in
416 B.C., ‘that in her political transactions she measured honour by
inclination and justice by expediency’ (Thuc. 5, 105). The most scathing
verdict upon it is delivered by Xenophon himself, who pauses in his
narrative to point the moral, that the fall and degradation of Sparta
began from this turning-point:
‘It would be possible to mention many other instances, from Greek and
foreign history, proving that the Gods do not fail to notice the authors
of impious and wicked deeds; at present I shall only mention the case
before us. The Lacedaemonians, who had sworn that they would leave the
cities independent, and then seized the Acropolis of Thebes, were
punished entirely by those whom they had wronged, having previously been
beaten by no man then living. The Theban citizens who had introduced
them into the citadel, and who wished the city to be subject to the
Lacedaemonians that they themselves might enjoy absolute power, lost
their supremacy, which seven exiles were enough to overthrow.’
These remarks are in the spirit of the Greek Tragedians, who love to
bring into strong light an act or situation of pride and insolence as
the turning-point from prosperity to ruin. Thucydides, as is pointed out
by Grote in the masterly pages which end his fifty-sixth chapter, has
brought the cynical injustice of the Athenians towards Melos into
glaring prominence in order to prepare his readers for the disastrous
sequel.
The problem of the true nature of the ‘Divine Sign’ of Socrates is one
of great interest and some mystery. The Latin word ‘Genius’, the
attendant spirit who makes each of us what he is, in fact, his self, is
familiar to us from Horace:
_The Genius, guardian of each child of earth,
Born when we’re born and dying when we die._
(_Epist._ 2, 2, 187.)
The conception is thoroughly Greek, and may be paralleled abundantly
from Plato as well as from Plutarch himself and contemporary writers.
But it is really misapplied here, and is in fact a mistranslation, since
the word used by Plato and Xenophon as well as by Plutarch is invariably
not the daemon, but the neuter adjective, ‘the daemonic sc. Sign’. The
passages of Plato and Xenophon are collected in the late James Riddell’s
edition of the _Apology_ of Plato.[20] It is to be observed that in all
the genuine works of Plato the operation of the Sign is negative and
deterrent, in Xenophon it is sometimes positive and hortatory. The
reader should consult the articles on Socrates by Professor Henry
Jackson in the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_. Professor Jackson is inclined
to think that the evidence points to some abnormal condition of the
sense of hearing, and there are expressions in this Dialogue of Plutarch
which seem to bear out such a view. Apuleius’ treatise _On the God of
Socrates_ (which St. Augustine tells us that he would have entitled _On
the daemon of Socrates_ if he had dared) tells us much which is of
interest about the daemons, but not very much about Socrates. He
contributes, however, the pertinent remark that the Sign, according to
Socrates himself, was not ‘a voice’, but ‘a sort of voice’.
There is no indication of the date of composition of this Dialogue.
Not many points of topography arise. The Cadmeia stood on a low hill or
plateau rising from north to south on the eastern side of the Dirce
stream and reaching a height of some 200 feet, now occupied by the
modern town. The market-place was north-east of this, near the river
Ismenus. Of the seven famous gates the returning exiles may probably
have entered by the Electran, the one assailed by Capaneus in Aeschylus’
story (_Seven against Thebes_, 423).