Socrates is the most eminent of the ancient philosophers. He lived in
the most enlightened age of Greece, and in Athens, the most illustrious
of her cities. He was born in the middle ranks of life, the son of a
sculptor. He was of a mean countenance, with a snub nose, projecting
eyes, and otherwise of an appearance so unpromising, that a
physiognomist, his contemporary, pronounced him to be given to the
grossest vices. But he was of a penetrating understanding, the simplest
manners, and a mind wholly bent on the study of moral excellence. He
at once abjured all the lofty pretensions, and the dark and recondite
pursuits of the most applauded teachers of his time, and led those to
whom he addressed his instructions from obvious and irresistible data
to the most unexpected and useful conclusions. There was something in
his manner of teaching that drew to him the noblest youth of Athens.
Plato and Xenophon, two of the most admirable of the Greek writers,
were among his pupils. He reconciled in his own person in a surprising
degree poverty with the loftiest principles of independence. He taught
an unreserved submission to the laws of our country. He several times
unequivocally displayed his valour in the field of battle, while at
the same time he kept aloof from public offices and trusts. The
serenity of his mind never forsook him. He was at all times ready to
teach, and never found it difficult to detach himself from his own
concerns, to attend to the wants and wishes of others. He was
uniformly courteous and unpretending; and, if at any time he indulged
in a vein of playful ridicule, it was only against the presumptuously
ignorant, and those who were without foundation wise in their own
conceit.
Yet, with all these advantages and perfections, the name of Socrates
would not have been handed down with such lustre to posterity but for
the manner of his death. He made himself many enemies. The plainness
of his manner and the simplicity of his instructions were inexpressibly
wounding to those (and they were many), who, setting up for professors,
had hitherto endeavoured to dazzle their hearers by the loftiness of
their claims, and to command from them implicit submission by the
arrogance with which they dictated. It must be surprising to us, that
a man like Socrates should be arraigned in a country like Athens upon
a capital accusation. He was charged with instilling into the youth a
disobedience to their duties, and propagating impiety to the Gods,
faults of which he was notoriously innocent. But the plot against him
was deeply laid, and is said to have been twenty years in the
concoction. And he greatly assisted the machinations of his
adversaries, by the wonderful firmness of his conduct upon his trial,
and his spirited resolution not to submit to any thing indirect and
pusillanimous. He defended himself with a serene countenance and the
most cogent arguments, but would not stoop to deprecation and intreaty.
When sentence was pronounced against him, this did not induce the
least alteration of his conduct. He did not think that a life which he
had passed for seventy years with a clear conscience, was worth
preserving by the sacrifice of honour. He refused to escape from
prison, when one of his rich friends had already purchased of the
jailor the means of his freedom. And, during the last days of his life,
and when he was waiting the signal of death, which was to be the return
of a ship that had been sent with sacrifices to Delos, he uttered those
admirable discourses, which have been recorded by Xenophon and Plato
to the latest posterity.
But the question which introduces his name into this volume, is that
of what is called the demon of Socrates. He said that he repeatedly
received a divine premonition of dangers impending over himself and
others; and considerable pains have been taken to ascertain the cause
and author of these premonitions. Several persons, among whom we may
include Plato, have conceived that Socrates regarded himself as
attended by a supernatural guardian who at all times watched over his
welfare and concerns.
But the solution is probably of a simpler nature. Socrates, with all
his incomparable excellencies and perfections, was not exempt from the
superstitions of his age and country. He had been bred up among the
absurdities of polytheism. In them were included, as we have seen, a
profound deference for the responses of oracles, and a vigilant
attention to portents and omens. Socrates appears to have been
exceedingly regardful of omens. Plato tells us that this intimation,
which he spoke of as his demon, never prompted him to any act, but
occasionally interfered to prevent him or his friends from proceeding
in any thing that would have been attended with injurious consequences.
[99] Sometimes he described it as a voice, which no one however heard
but himself; and sometimes it shewed itself in the act of sneezing. If
the sneezing came, when he was in doubt to do a thing or not to do it,
it confirmed him; but if, being already engaged in any act, he sneezed,
this he considered as a warning to desist. If any of his friends
sneezed on his right hand, he interpreted this as a favourable omen;
but, if on his left, he immediately relinquished his purpose. [100]
Socrates vindicated his mode of expressing himself on the subject, by
saying that others, when they spoke of omens, for example, by the
voice of a bird, said the bird told me this, but that he, knowing that
the omen was purely instrumental to a higher power, deemed it more
religious and respectful to have regard only to the higher power, and
to say that God had graciously warned him. [101] One of the examples
of this presage was, that, going along a narrow street with several
companions in earnest discourse, he suddenly stopped, and turned
another way, warning his friends to do the same. Some yielded to him,
and others went on, who were encountered by the rushing forward of a
multitude of hogs, and did not escape without considerable
inconvenience and injury. [102] In another instance one of a company
among whom was Socrates, had confederated to commit an act of
assassination. Accordingly he rose to quit the place, saying to
Socrates, "I will be back presently." Socrates, unaware of his purpose,
but having received the intimation of his demon, said to him earnestly,
"Go not." The conspirator sat down. Again however he rose, and again
Socrates stopped him. At length he escaped, without the observation of
the philosopher, and committed the act, for which he was afterwards
brought to trial. When led to execution, he exclaimed, "This would
never have happened to me, if I had yielded to the intimation of
Socrates." [103] In the same manner, and by a similar suggestion, the
philosopher predicted the miscarriage of the Athenian expedition to
Sicily under Nicias, which terminated with such signal disaster. [104]
This feature in the character of Socrates is remarkable, and may shew
the prevalence of superstitious observances, even in persons whom we
might think the most likely to be exempt from this weakness.