101 Tennemann, Gesch. der Philos. ii. p. 205-220. Hermann, Ueber Plato’s Schriftsteller. Motive, pp. 290-294.
Hermann considers this reserve and double doctrine to be unworthy of Plato, and ascribes it to Protagoras and other Sophists, on the authority of a passage in the Theætêtus (152 C), which does not at all sustain his allegation.
Hermann considers “die akroamatischen Lehren als Fortsetzung und Schlussstein der schriftlichen, die dort erst zur vollen Klarheit principieller Auffassung erhoben wurden, ohne jedoch über den nämlichen Gegenstand, soweit die Rede auf denselben kommen musste, etwas wesentlich Verschiedenes zu lehren” (p. 293).
Characteristic of the oral lectures — that they were delivered in Plato’s own name. In what other respects they departed from the dialogues, we cannot say.
Towards filling up this gap, then, the oral lectures cannot be shown to lend any assistance. The cardinal point of difference between them and the dialogues was, that they were delivered by Plato himself, in his own name; whereas he never published any written composition in his own name. But we do not know enough to say, in what particular way this difference would manifest itself. Besides the oral lectures, delivered to a numerous auditory, it is very probable that Plato held special communications upon philosophy with a few advanced pupils. Here however we are completely in the dark. Yet I see nothing, either in these supposed private communications or in the oral lectures, to controvert what was said in the last page — that Plato’s affirmative philosophy is not fitted on to his negative philosophy, but grows out of other mental impulses, distinct and apart. Plato (as Aristotle tells us102) felt it difficult to determine, whether the march of philosophy was an ascending one toward the principia (ἀρχὰς), or a descending one down from the principia. A good philosophy ought to suffice for both, conjointly and alternately: in Plato’s philosophy, there is no road explicable either upwards or downwards, between the two: no justifiable mode of participation (μέθεξις) between the two disparate worlds — intellect and sense. The principia of Plato take an impressive hold on the imagination: but they remove few or none of the Platonic difficulties; and they only seem to do this because the Sokratic Elenchus, so effective whenever it is applied, is never seriously brought to bear against them.
102 Aristot. Eth. Nik. i. 4, 5. εὖ γὰρ καὶ Πλάτων ἠπόρει τοῦτο καὶ ἐζήτει πότερον ἀπὸ τῶν ἀρχῶν ἢ ἐπὶ τὰς ἀρχάς ἐστιν ἡ ὁδός.
Apart from any result, Plato has an interest in the process of search and debate per se. Protracted enquiry is a valuable privilege, not a tiresome obligation.
With persons who complain of prolixity in the dialogue — of threads which are taken up only to be broken off, devious turns and “passages which lead to nothing” — of much talk “about it and about it,” without any peremptory decision from an authorised judge — with such complainants Plato has no sympathy. He feels a strong interest in the process of enquiry, in the debate per se: and he presumes a like interest in his readers. He has no wish to shorten the process, nor to reach the end and dismiss the question as settled.103 On the contrary, he claims it as the privilege of philosophical research, that persons engaged in such discussions are noway tied to time; they are not like judicial pleaders, who, with a klepsydra or water-clock to measure the length of each speech, are under slavish dependence on the feelings of the Dikasts, and are therefore obliged to keep strictly to the point.104 Whoever desires accurate training of mind must submit to go through a long and tiresome circuit.105 Plato regards the process of enquiry as being in itself, both a stimulus and a discipline, in which the minds both of questioner and respondent are implicated and improved, each being indispensable to the other: he also represents it as a process, carried on under the immediate inspiration of the moment, without reflection or foreknowledge of the result.106 Lastly, Plato has an interest in the dialogue, not merely as a mental discipline, but as an artistic piece of workmanship, whereby the taste and imagination are charmed. The dialogue was to him what the tragedy was to Sophokles, and the rhetorical discourse to Isokrates. He went on “combing and curling it” (to use the phrase of Dionysius) for as many years as Isokrates bestowed on the composition of the Panegyrical Oration. He handles the dialectic drama so as to exhibit some one among the many diverse ethical points of view, and to show what it involves as well as what it excludes in the way of consequence. We shall not find the ethical point of view always the same: there are material inconsistencies and differences in this respect between one dialogue and another.
103 As an illustration of that class of minds which take delight in the search for truth in different directions, I copy the following passage respecting Dr. Priestley, from an excellent modern scientific biography. “Dr. Priestley had seen so much of the evil of obstinate adherence to opinions which time had rendered decrepit, not venerable — and had been so richly rewarded in his capacity of natural philosopher, by his adventurous explorations of new territories in science — that he unavoidably and unconsciously over-estimated the value of what was novel, and held himself free to change his opinions to an extent not easily sympathised with by minds of a different order. Some men love to rest in truth, or at least in settled opinions, and are uneasy till they find repose. They alter their beliefs with great reluctance, and dread the charge of inconsistency, even in reference to trifling matters. Priestley, on the other hand, was a follower after truth, who delighted in the chase, and was all his life long pursuing, not resting in it.
On all subjects which interested him he held by certain cardinal doctrines, but he left the outlines of his systems to be filled up as he gained experience, and to an extent very few men have done, disavowed any attempt to reconcile his changing views with each other, or to deprecate the charge of inconsistency.… I think it must be acknowledged by all who have studied his writings, that in his scientific researches at least he carried this feeling too far, and that often when he had reached a truth in which he might and should have rested, his dread of anything like a too hasty stereotyping of a supposed discovery, induced him to welcome whatever seemed to justify him in renewing the pursuit of truth, and thus led him completely astray. Priestley indeed missed many a discovery, the clue to which was in his hands and in his alone, by not knowing where to stop.”
(Dr. Geo Wilson — Life of the Hon. H. Cavendish, among the publications of the Cavendish Society, 1851, p. 110-111.)
104 Plato, Theætêt. p. 172.
105 Plato, Republic, v. 450 B. μέτρον δέ γ’, ἔφη, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὁ Γλαύκων, τοιούτων λόγων ἀκούειν, ὅλος ὁ βίος νοῦν ἔχουσιν. vi. 504 D. Τὴν μακροτέραν περϊιτέον τῷ τοιούτῳ, καὶ οὐχ ἧττον μανθάνοντι πονητέον ἢ γυμναζομένῳ. Also Phædrus, 274 A, Parmenid. p. 135 D, 136 D, ἀμήχανον πραγματείαν — ἀδολεσχίας, &c. Compare Politikus, 286, in respect to the charge of prolixity against him.
In the Hermotimus of Lucian, the assailant of philosophy draws one of his strongest arguments from the number of years required to examine the doctrines of all the philosophical sects — the whole of life would be insufficient (Lucian, Hermot. c. 47-48). The passages above cited, especially the first of them, show that Sokrates and Plato would not have been discouraged by this protracted work.
106 Plato, Republic, iii. 394 D. Μαντεύομαι (says Glaukon) σκοπεῖσθαι σε, εἴτε παραδεξόμεθα τραγῳδίαν τε καὶ κωμῳδίαν εἰς τὴν πόλιν, εἴτε καὶ οὔ. Ἴσως (says Sokrates) καὶ πλείω ἔτι τούτων· οὐ γὰρ δὴ ἔγωγε πω οἶδα, ἀλλ’ ὅπῃ ἂν ὁ λόγος ὥσπερ πνεῦμα φέρῃ, ταύτῃ ἰτεον. Καὶ καλῶς γ’, ἔφη, λέγεις.
The Republic, from the second book to the close, is one of those Platonic compositions in which Sokrates is most expository.
We find a remarkable passage in Des Cartes, wherein that very self-working philosopher expresses his conviction that the longer he continued enquiring, the more his own mind would become armed for the better appreciation of truth — and in which he strongly protests against any barrier restraining the indefinite liberty of enquiry.
“Et encore qu’il y en ait peut-être d’aussi bien sensés parmi les Perses ou les Chinois que parmi nous, il me sembloit que le plus utile étoit, de me régler selon ceux avec lesquels j’aurois à vivre; et que, pour savoir quelles étoient véritablement leurs opinions, je devois plutôt prendre garde à ce qu’ils pratiquaient qu’à ce qu’ils disaient; non seulement à cause qu’en la corruption de nos mœurs, il y a peu de gens qui veuillent dire tout ce qu’ils croient — mais aussi à cause que plusieurs l’ignorent eux mêmes; car l’action de la pensée, par laquelle on croit une chose étant différente de celle par laquelle on connoit qu’on la croit, elles sont souvent l’une sans l’autre. Et entre plusieurs opinions également reçues, je ne choisissois que les plus modérées; tant à cause que ce sont toujours les plus commodes pour la pratique, et vraisemblablement les meilleures — tous excès ayans coutume d’être mauvais — comme aussi afin de me détourner moins du vrai chemin, en cas que je faillisse, que si, ayant choisi l’un des deux extrêmes, c’eût été l’autre qu’il eut fallu suivre.
“Et particulièrement, je mettois entre les excès toutes les promesses par lesquelles on retranche quelque chose de sa liberté; non que je désapprouvasse les lois, qui pour remédier à l’inconstance des esprits foibles, permettent, lorsqu’on a quelque bon dessein (ou même, pour la sureté du commerce, quelque dessein qui n’est qu’indifférent), qu’on fasse des vœux ou des contrats qui obligent à y persévérer: mais à cause que je ne voyois au monde aucune chose qui demeurât toujours en même état, et que comme pour mon particulier, je me promettois de perfectionner de plus en plus en mes jugemens, et non point de les rendre pires, j’eusse pensé commettre une grande faute contre le bon sens, si, parceque j’approuvois alors quelque chose, je me fusse obligé de la prendre pour bonne encore après, lorsqu’elle auroit peut-être cessé de l’être, ou que j’aurois cessé de l’estimer telle.” Discours de la Méthode, part iii. p. 147-148, Cousin edit.; p. 16, Simon edit.
Plato has done more than any one else to make the process of enquiry interesting to others, as it was to himself.
But amidst all these differences — and partly indeed by reason of these differences — Plato succeeds in inspiring his readers with much of the same interest in the process of dialectic enquiry which he evidently felt in his own bosom. The charm, with which he invests the process of philosophising, is one main cause of the preservation of his writings from the terrible ship-wreck which has overtaken so much of the abundant contemporary literature. It constitutes also one of his principle titles to the gratitude of intellectual men. This is a merit which may be claimed for Cicero also, but hardly for Aristotle, in so far as we can judge from the preserved portion of the Aristotelian writings: whether for the other viri Socratici his contemporaries, or in what proportion, we are unable to say. Plato’s works charmed and instructed all; so that they were read not merely by disciples and admirers (as the Stoic and Epikurean treatises were), but by those who dissented from him as well as by those who agreed with him.107 The process of philosophising is one not naturally attractive except to a few minds: the more therefore do we owe to the colloquy of Sokrates and the writing of Plato, who handled it so as to diffuse the appetite for enquiry, and for sifting dissentient opinions. The stimulating and suggestive influence exercised by Plato — the variety of new roads pointed out to the free enquiring mind — are in themselves sufficiently valuable: whatever we may think of the positive results in which he himself acquiesced.108
107 Cicero, Tusc. Disp. ii. 3, 8.
Cicero farther commends the Stoic Panætius for having relinquished the “tristitiam atque asperitatem” of his Stoic predecessors, Zeno, Chrysippus, &c., and for endeavouring to reproduce the style and graces of Plato and Aristotle, whom he was always commending to his students (De Fin. iv. 28, 79).
108 The observation which Cicero applies to Varro, is applicable to the Platonic writings also. “Philosophiam multis locis inchoasti, ad impellendum satis, ad edocendum parum” (Academ. Poster. i. 3, 9).
I shall say more about this when I touch upon the Platonic Kleitophon; an unfinished dialogue, which takes up the point of view here indicated by Cicero.
I have said thus much respecting what is common to the Dialogues of Search, because this is a species of composition now rare and strange. Modern readers do not understand what is meant by publishing an enquiry without any result — a story without an end. Respecting the Dialogues of Exposition, there is not the like difficulty. This is a species of composition, the purpose of which is generally understood. Whether the exposition be clear or obscure — orderly or confused — true or false — we shall see when we come to examine each separately. But these Dialogues of Exposition exhibit Plato in a different character: as the counterpart, not of Sokrates, but of Lykurgus (Republic and Leges) or of Pythagoras (in Timæus).109
Process of generalisation always kept in view and illustrated throughout the Platonic Dialogues of Search — general terms and propositions made subjects of conscious analysis.
A farther remark which may be made, bearing upon most of the dialogues, relates to matter and not to manner. Everywhere (both in the Dialogues of Search and in those of exposition) the process of generalisation is kept in view and brought into conscious notice, directly or indirectly. The relation of the universal to its particulars, the contrast of the constant and essential with the variable and accidental, are turned and returned in a thousand different ways. The principles of classification, with the breaking down of an extensive genus into species and sub-species, form the special subject of illustration in two of the most elaborate Platonic dialogues, and are often partially applied in the rest. To see the One in the Many, and the Many in the One, is represented as the great aim and characteristic attribute of the real philosopher. The testing of general terms, and of abstractions already embodied in familiar language, by interrogations applying them to many concrete and particular cases — is one manifestation of the Sokratic cross-examining process, which Plato multiplies and diversifies without limit. It is in his writings and in the conversation of Sokrates, that general terms and propositions first become the subject of conscious attention and analysis, and Plato was well aware that he was here opening the new road towards formal logic, unknown to his predecessors, unfamiliar even to his contemporaries. This process is indeed often overlaid in his writings by exuberant poetical imagery and by transcendental hypothesis: but the important fact is, that it was constantly present to his own mind and is impressed upon the notice of his readers.
The Dialogues must be reviewed as distinct compositions by the same author, illustrating each other, but without assignable inter-dependence.
After these various remarks, having a common bearing upon all, or nearly all, the Platonic dialogues, I shall proceed to give some account of each dialogue separately. It is doubtless both practicable and useful to illustrate one of them by others, sometimes in the way of analogy, sometimes in that of contrast. But I shall not affect to handle them as contributories to one positive doctrinal system — nor as occupying each an intentional place in the gradual unfolding of one preconceived scheme — nor as successive manifestations of change, knowable and determinable, in the views of the author. For us they exist as distinct imaginary conversations, composed by the same author at unknown times and under unknown specialities of circumstance. Of course it is necessary to prefer some one order for reviewing the Dialogues, and for that purpose more or less of hypothesis must be admitted; but I shall endeavour to assume as little as possible.
Order of the Dialogues, chosen for bringing them under separate review. Apology will come first; Timæus, Kritias, Leges, Epinomis last.
The order which I shall adopt for considering the dialogues coincides to a certain extent with that which some other expositors have adopted. It begins with those dialogues which delineate Sokrates, and which confine themselves to the subjects and points of view belonging to him, known as he is upon the independent testimony of Xenophon. First of all will come the Platonic Apology, containing the explicit negative programme of Sokrates, enunciated by himself a month before his death, when Plato was 28 years of age.
Last of all, I shall take those dialogues which depart most widely from Sokrates, and which are believed to be the products of Plato’s most advanced age — Timæus, Kritias, and Leges, with the sequel, Epinomis. These dialogues present a glaring contrast to the searching questions, the negative acuteness, the confessed ignorance, of Sokrates: Plato in his old age has not maintained consistency with his youth, as Sokrates did, but has passed round from the negative to the affirmative pole of philosophy.
Kriton and Euthyphron come immediately after Apology. The intermediate dialogues present no convincing grounds for any determinate order.
Between the Apology and the dialogues named as last — I shall examine the intermediate dialogues according as they seem to approximate or recede from Sokrates and the negative dialectic. Here, however, the reasons for preference are noway satisfactory. Of the many dissentient schemes, professing to determine the real order in which the Platonic dialogues were composed, I find a certain plausibility in some, but no conclusive reason in any. Of course the reasons in favour of each one scheme, count against all the rest. I believe (as I have already said) that none of Plato’s dialogues were composed until after the death of Sokrates: but at what dates, or in what order, after that event, they were composed, it is impossible to determine. The Republic and Philêbus rank among the constructive dialogues, and may suitably be taken immediately before Timæus: though the Republic belongs to the highest point of Plato’s genius, and includes a large measure of his negative acuteness combined with his most elaborate positive combinations. In the Sophistês and Politikus, Sokrates appears only in the character of a listener: in the Parmenidês also, the part assigned to him, instead of being aggressive and victorious, is subordinate to that of Parmenidês and confined to an unsuccessful defence. These dialogues, then, occupy a place late in the series. On the other hand, Kriton and Euthyphron have an immediate bearing upon the trial of Sokrates and the feelings connected with it. I shall take them in immediate sequel to the Apology.
For the intermediate dialogues, the order is less marked and justifiable. In so far as a reason can be given, for preference as to former and later, I shall give it when the case arises.
Adopting the order of precedence above described, for the review of the Platonic compositions, and taking the point of departure from Sokrates or the Sokratic point of view, I begin with the memorable composition called the Apology.
The Apology is the real defence delivered by Sokrates before the Dikasts, reported by Plato, without intentional transformation.
I agree with Schleiermacher1 — with the more recent investigations of Ueberweg — and with what (until recent times) seems to have been the common opinion, — that this is in substance the real defence pronounced by Sokrates; reported, and of course drest up, yet not intentionally transformed, by Plato.2 If such be the case, it is likely to have been put together shortly after the trial, and may thus be ranked among the earliest of the Platonic compositions: for I have already intimated my belief that Plato composed no dialogues under the name of Sokrates, during the lifetime of Sokrates.
1 Zeller is of opinion that the Apology, as well as the Kriton, were put together at Megara by Plato, shortly after the death of Sokrates. (Zeller, De Hermodoro Ephesio, p. 19.)
Schleiermacher, Einl. zur Apologie, vol. ii. pp. 182-185. Ueberweg, Ueber die Aechtheit der Plat. Schrift. p. 246.
Steinhart thinks (Einleitung, pp. 236-238) that the Apology contains more of Plato, and less of Sokrates: but he does not make his view very clear to me. Ast, on the contrary, treats the Apology as spurious and unworthy of Plato. (Ueber Platon’s Leben und Schriften, p. 477, seq.) His arguments are rather objections against the merits of the composition, than reasons for believing it not to be the work of Plato. I dissent from them entirely: but they show that an acute critic can make out a plausible case, satisfactory to himself, against any dialogue. If it be once conceded that the question of genuine or spurious is to be tried upon such purely internal grounds of critical admiration and complete harmony of sentiment, Ast might have made out a case even stronger against the genuineness of the Phædrus, Symposion, Philêbus, Parmenidês.
2 See chapter lxviii. of my History of Greece.
The reader will find in that chapter a full narrative of all the circumstances known to us respecting both the life and the condemnation of Sokrates.
A very admirable account may also be seen of the character of Sokrates, and his position with reference to the Athenian people, in the article entitled Sokrates und Sein Volk, Akademischer Vortrag, by Professor Hermann Köchly; a lecture delivered at Zurich in 1855, and published with enlargements in 1859.
Professor Köchly’s article (contained in a volume entitled Akademische Vorträge, Zurich, 1859) is eminently deserving of perusal. It not only contains a careful summary of the contemporary history, so far as Sokrates is concerned, but it has farther the great merit of fairly estimating that illustrious man in reference to the actual feeling of the time, and to the real public among whom he moved. I feel much satisfaction in seeing that Professor Köchly’s picture, composed without any knowledge of my History of Greece, presents substantially the same view of Sokrates and his contemporaries as that which is taken in my sixty-eighth chapter.
Köchly considers that the Platonic Apology preserves the Sokratic character more faithfully than any of Plato’s writings; and that it represents what Sokrates said, as nearly as the “dichterische Natur” of Plato would permit (Köchly, pp. 302-364.)
Even if it be Plato’s own composition, it comes naturally first in the review of his dialogues.
Such, in my judgment, is the most probable hypothesis respecting the Apology. But even if we discard this hypothesis; if we treat the Apology as a pure product of the Platonic imagination (like the dialogues), and therefore not necessarily connected in point of time with the event to which it refers — still there are good reasons for putting it first in the order of review. For it would then be Plato’s own exposition, given more explicitly and solemnly than anywhere else, of the Sokratic point of view and life-purpose. It would be an exposition embodying that union of generalising impulse, mistrust of established common-places, and aggressive cross-examining ardour — with eccentric religious persuasion, as well as with perpetual immersion in the crowd of the palæstra and the market-place: which immersion was not less indispensable to Sokrates than repugnant to the feelings of Plato himself. An exposition, lastly, disavowing all that taste for cosmical speculation, and that transcendental dogmatism, which formed one among the leading features of Plato as distinguished from Sokrates. In whichever way we look at the Apology, whether as a real or as an imaginary defence, it contains more of pure Sokratism than any other composition of Plato, and as such will occupy the first place in the arrangement which I adopt.3
3 Dionysius Hal. regards the Apology, not as a report of what Sokrates really said, nor as approximating thereunto, but as a pure composition of Plato himself, for three purposes combined:—1. To defend and extol Sokrates. 2. To accuse the Athenian public and Dikasts. 3. To furnish a picture of what a philosopher ought to be. — All these purposes are to a certain extent included and merged in a fourth, which I hold to be the true one, — to exhibit what Sokrates was and had been, in relation to the Athenian public.
The comparison drawn by Dionysius between the Apology and the oration De Coronâ of Demosthenes, appears to me unsuitable. The two are altogether disparate, in spirit, in purpose, and in execution. (See Dion. H. Ars Rhet. pp. 295-298: De Adm. Vi Dic. Demosth. p. 1026.)
In my History of Greece, I have already spoken of this impressive discourse as it concerns the relations between Sokrates himself and the Dikasts to whom he addressed it. I here regard it only as it concerns Plato; and as it forms a convenient point of departure for entering upon and appreciating the Platonic dialogues.
General character of the Apology — Sentiments entertained towards Sokrates at Athens.
The Apology of Sokrates is not a dialogue but a continuous discourse addressed to the Dikasts, containing nevertheless a few questions and answers interchanged between him and the accuser Melêtus in open court. It is occupied, partly, in rebutting the counts of the indictment (viz., 1. That Sokrates did not believe in the Gods or in the Dæmons generally recognised by his countrymen: 2. That he was a corruptor of youth4) — partly in setting forth those proceedings of his life out of which such charges had grown, and by which he had become obnoxious to a wide-spread feeling of personal hatred. By his companions, by those who best knew him, and by a considerable number of ardent young men, he was greatly esteemed and admired: by the general public, too, his acuteness as well as his self-sufficing and independent character, were appreciated with a certain respect. Yet he was at the same time disliked, as an aggressive disputant who “tilted at all he met” — who raised questions novel as well as perplexing, who pretended to special intimations from the Gods — and whose views no one could distinctly make out.5 By the eminent citizens of all varieties — politicians, rhetors, Sophists, tragic and comic poets, artisans, &c. — he had made himself both hated and feared.6 He emphatically denies the accusation of general disbelief in the Gods, advanced by Melêtus: and he affirms generally (though less distinctly) that the Gods in whom he believed, were just the same as those in whom the whole city believed. Especially does he repudiate the idea, that he could be so absurd as to doubt the divinity of Helios and Selênê, in which all the world believed;7 and to adopt the heresy of Anaxagoras, who degraded these Divinities into physical masses. Respecting his general creed, he thus puts himself within the pale of Athenian orthodoxy. He even invokes that very sentiment (with some doubt whether the Dikasts will believe him8) for the justification of the obnoxious and obtrusive peculiarities of his life; representing himself as having acted under the mission of the Delphian God, expressly transmitted from the oracle.
4 Xenoph. Mem. i. 1, 1. Ἀδικεῖ Σωκράτης, οὓς μὲν ἑ πόλις νομίζει θεοὺς οὐ νομίζων· ἕτερα δὲ καινὰ δαιμόνια εἰσφέρων· ἀδικεῖ δὲ καὶ τοὺς νέους διαφθείρων.
Plato, Apolog. c. 3, p. 19 B. Σωκράτης ἀδικεῖ καὶ περιεργάζεται, ζητῶν τά τε ὑπὸ γῆς καὶ τὰ ἐπουράνια, καὶ τὸν ἥττω λόγον κρείττω ποιῶν, καὶ ἄλλους ταὐτὰ ταῦτα διδάσκων.
The reading of Xenophon was conformable to the copy of the indictment preserved in the Metrôon at Athens in the time of Favorinus. There were three distinct accusers — Melêtus, Anytus, and Lykon. Plat. Apol. p. 23-24 B.
5 Plato, Apol. c. 28, p. 38 A; c. 23, p. 35 A.
6 Plato, Apol. c. 8-9, pp. 22-23. ἐκ ταυτησὶ δὴ τὴς ἐξετάσεως πολλαὶ μὲν ἀπέχθειαί μοι γεγόνασι καὶ οἶαι χαλεπώταται καὶ βαρύταται, ὥστε πολλὰς διαβολὰς ἀπ’ αὐτῶν γεγονέναι, ὄνομα δὲ τοῦτο λέγεσθαι, σοφὸς εἶναι.
7 Plato, Apol. c. 14, p. 26 D. ὦ θαυμάσιε Μέλητε, ἱνα τί ταῦτα λέγεις; οὐδὲ ἥλιον οὐδὲ σελήνην ἄρα νομίζω θεοὺς εἶναι, ὥσπερ οἱ ἄλλοι ἄνθρωποι;
8 Plato, Apol. c. 5, p. 20 D.
Declaration from the Delphian oracle respecting the wisdom of Sokrates, interpreted by him as a mission to cross-examine the citizens generally — The oracle is proved to be true.
According to his statement, his friend and earnest admirer Chærephon, had asked the question at the oracle of Delphi, whether any one was wiser than Sokrates? The reply of the oracle declared, that no one was wiser. On hearing this declaration from an infallible authority, Sokrates was greatly perplexed: for he was conscious to himself of not being wise upon any matter, great or small.9 He at length concluded that the declaration of the oracle could be proved true, only on the hypothesis that other persons were less wise than they seemed to be or fancied themselves. To verify this hypothesis, he proceeded to cross-examine the most eminent persons in many different walks — political men, rhetors, Sophists, poets, artisans. On applying his Elenchus, and putting to them testing interrogations, he found them all without exception destitute of any real wisdom, yet fully persuaded that they were wise, and incapable of being shaken in that persuasion. The artisans indeed did really know each his own special trade; but then, on account of this knowledge, they believed themselves to be wise on other great matters also. So also the poets were great in their own compositions; but on being questioned respecting these very compositions, they were unable to give any rational or consistent explanations: so that they plainly appeared to have written beautiful verses, not from any wisdom of their own, but through inspiration from the Gods, or spontaneous promptings of nature. The result was, that these men were all proved to possess no more real wisdom than Sokrates: but he was aware of his own deficiency; while they were fully convinced of their own wisdom, and could not be made sensible of the contrary. In this way Sokrates justified the certificate of superiority vouchsafed to him by the oracle. He, like all other persons, was destitute of wisdom; but he was the only one who knew, or could be made to feel, his own real mental condition. With others, and most of all with the most conspicuous men, the false persuasion of their own wisdom was universal and inexpugnable.10
9 Plato, Apol. c. 6, p. 21 B. ταῦτα γὰρ ἐγὼ ἀκούσας ἐνεθυμούμην οὑτωσί, Τί ποτε λέγει ὁ θεὸς καὶ τί ποτε αἰνίττεται; ἐγὼ γὰρ δὴ οὔτε μέγα οὔτε σμικρὸν ξύνοιδα ἐμαυτῷ σοφὸς ὤν· τί οὖν ποτε λέγει φάσκων ἐμὲ σοφώτατον εἶναι; οὐ γὰρ δήπου ψεύδεταί γε· οὐ γὰρ θέμις αὐτῷ. Καὶ πολὺν μὲν χρόνον ἠπόρουν, &c.
10 Plato, Apolog. c. 8-9, pp. 22-23.
False persuasion of wisdom is universal — the God alone is wise.
This then was the philosophical mission of Sokrates, imposed upon him by the Delphian oracle, and in which he passed the mature portion of his life: to cross-examine every one, to expose that false persuasion of knowledge which every one felt, and to demonstrate the truth of that which the oracle really meant by declaring the superior wisdom of Sokrates. “People suppose me to be wise myself (says Sokrates) on those matters on which I detect and prove the non-wisdom of others.11 But that is a mistake. The God alone is wise: and his oracle declares human wisdom to be worth little or nothing, employing the name of Sokrates as an example. He is the wisest of men, who, like Sokrates, knows well that he is in truth worthless so far as wisdom is concerned.12 The really disgraceful ignorance is — to think that you know what you do not really know.”13
11 Plato, Apol. c. 9, p. 23 A. οἴονται γάρ με ἑκάστοτε οἱ παρόντες ταῦτα αὐτὸν εἶναι σοφόν, ἃ ἂν ἄλλον ἐξελέγξω.
12 Plato, Apol. c. 9, p. 23 A; c. 17, p. 28 E.