Mutakalim
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Posts posted by Mutakalim
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Originally posted by Emmy:Just Like the Yoga, Mediation, Feng Shui, Zen...etc they are all related to metaphysics & philosophies.I have been reading philosophy for some time and I do not see the relation and the significance of the above-mentioned "philosophies". Would I see you expound in what manner the yoga and the like are "metaphysics". Also, have you any formal education in philosophy.
With Salaams
PK
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Originally posted by OG_Moti:I m a professor at the University...A professor are you? What is the name of the institution you teach and how long have you been in the teaching buisness. Judging by the content and quality of your posts, I would nowise think you a post-secondary student much less a mentor at a university or college. Pray where do you teach?
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Hi folks
The following is a post regarding the phenomenology of chess; it is written by a freind of mine. You can find this article on the Philosophy Forum. A basic understanding of existentialism would help.....
Chess and metaphysics, no no, don't run away, at least not just yet (run after you saw the length of forthcoming post ). I know that this choice of subject has a chance of finding a very little audience. People who are interested in metaphysics might not give a iota about chess and people interested in chess might cringe at the sound of metaphysics. But maybe here there is something here for chessl overs as well as metaphysicians
I was wondering about this question: Does the game of chess have any philosophical value? There certainly are many books on 'psychology and chess', but not much on philosophy and chess. I found some bits and pieces and some worth wile insights on the connection between chess and life. Especially the Arabs were fond of chess and connected it to the world. One of the most known ones is this poem:
"'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays. "
- Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
Still a purely philosophical investigation of chess is unknown to me. In this post I want to use the chess game as a metaphor for the world and by doing so shed light on and maybe even find some common ground between the metaphysical views of Nietzsche, Hegel and Heidegger.
Lets picture the chess game as a model of the world:
"The chess-board is the world,
the pieces are the phenomenon of the Universe,
the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature,
The player on the other side is hidden from us." - T.H. Huxley
What can we say about this little world:
I will start with a chessplayer and amateur philosopher. The Dutch grandmaster H. Donner, 1929- 1984.
In one of his earlier articles Donner says about chess ''chess is an age-old culture-monument of the ontological conception of truth. Truth in chess is that true is what is as it is''. In chess everything is uncovered, the rules are clear. If you make a game in which knights go like this, bishop like that, and pawns move so and so, than some moves are simply better than others.
The future (what is unknown) in this world is made by the opponent. He makes moves, upon which you make moves, the unit of time in chess is the move, with each move we encounter a new world in which again, true is what 'is as it is'.
1. Heidegger
materialism, Understanding and Fear
Now lets take Heideggers materialist philosophy and see if chess can be used as a metaphor for his world. For Heidegger dasein is in-the-world. In chess terms, 'dasein' is the player. The player encounters a position and reflects upon it like dasein reflects on his own being. The chess game itself is the 'concern' of the player. The pieces are its equipment. They are 'ready at hand'. The worldhood of the world, yes that is the chessboard. What happens when we encounter (not playing chess) a chess piece? It is merely present at hand and fills us with conspicuousness. a chesspiece 'belongs' on a chessboard.
Likewise when playing chess, we often find we cannot make a move. A piece we need is missing. All of a sudden we become disappointed. the other pieces seem of no use at all, ahhrg why is there no knight on D4! We become angry, just as we become angry at the real world when we cannot find something and dismayed we throw all other things aside.
When do we 'see' the chessboard in chess? Precisely, at the end of it. When we have some piece stuck in a corner, yes then we see the finitude of the chess-world. The piece wants to move but cannot, it is trapped, that which is not the world surrounds the world. What is that famous 'nothingness' in Heidegger, that decor on which being shines itself out? That is the opponent. The opponent is unknown. We do not know what he will do and because of that we intently look at our position, trying to find out what he 'might' do. He is not just another Dasein, no way, he is the Other! The frightning one.
And the END, what about death in chess? The end in chess is the 'mate' (which means 'death' in Persian) It is symbolised by the contradiction. The King has to move but is not allowed to move.
So far things seem to check out. Chess can, with modifications here and there of course, take the role of the world. Can we now conclude that also in the world true is that which is as it is? That the world is only more complex as the chess game, but that in itself it can be 'read' like one?
2. Nietzsche
Chess as Will, victory
Well maybe the world can be read as a chess game, but there is another dimension to 'truth' in chess. In chess 'truth' seems to be simple, like the above suggested. It is not that simple. The chess games have meaning for the players. Chess properly can only be played between meaning giving individuals. Winning and losing means something, but what it means is not in the rules of the game. The rules do not state that winning is preferable to losing, that is what we think. And out of this first attachment of meaning there follows all interpretations of the chess positions.
This is the idealistic dimension. In the chess world two 'wills' are opposing each other. What is their aim, their aim is power, absolute power! The power to enforce the contradiction of the 'check mate' on each other. It doesn't matter how this end is achieved. That is why grandmaster Lasker could say ''not the objectively strongest move is the best one, but the one that causes most problems to your opponent''. This is the Nietzschean side of chess.
In chess all things are as they are because the players 'willed' it. The positions arise out of Will to Power'. The whole interpretation, the whole essence of the game is that. Without it, there would be no better and worse. Players would just randomly pick a move and there would be no game at all. In chess, the players are themselves beyond Good and Evil, they decide Good and Evil. They keep playing because they know every position has arisen out of what they willed 'Amor Fati' and make the best of it.
The players are like 'overmen'. They are playing with their pieces without morals but with an eye for them. A prime example of this 'meaning giving' or interpretative chess is Grandmaster Aaron Nimzowitch who said ''it sounds odd, but for me a pawn has a soul, he has slumbering desires and wishes and I have to understand them and help him on his way''
This sounds odd to people that see chess as mathematics, but to people who play chess as a battle of interpretation it doesn't. The overman will play with humans like men play with chess pieces, Nietzsche might have said.
Nietzsche's ideas seem exeptionally well suited for the chess game, but he was describing the world. Chess has stood the test of Nietzschean thinking.
Hegel
Historicity, contradiction and overcoming
We have now two ways of understanding the chess game. Chess as material, a world governed by natural laws and in which the players uncover truth and chess as will, as a game in which interpretation of one will will triumph over the interpretation of the other. Still a third way of understanding is needed for the full picture. We need to know how chess came into being and on what fundament, in what spirit, the battle is fought.
We turn now explicitly to the players. In the first Heideggerian interpretation I gave the other player was the cause of fear. In the Nietzschean interpretation the other was one to be subdued, eliminated even. But chess is a game after all, why all that fear and violence? For an answer we need to consider the union of opposites, the seeming paradox which comes to life in chess. Sure, the object in chess is to win the game, but this is only half true. No chess will be played by opponents so unequal in capacity that one will always triumph over the other. Than the game is 'not fun' and one of the players will stop playing.
If I play someone who has no chance beating me, I will teach that person chess. The only pleasure than is to see the other getting better. Why do I do that? The conclusion seems inevitable, in order to be able to get beaten by him or her. So 'we play to win is only half true', we play to win only if we also can loose.
So chess is a struggle, but a paradoxical on in which opponents are locked in a dialectic relation. There can only be chess if people are prepared to be in a struggle. The Other is only seemingly threatening, in fact he affirms your 'right' to interpret by offering you his counter interpretation. In the game the idea of One and Other are overcome.
The dialectic lesson of chess is that the Self / Other distinction is overcome precisely by entering in a struggle with you. A formalized struggle in which both are offered equal chance to interpret the world, is a relation in which people can find each other. (Not all participation in struggle has this character, for instance the essence of crime is that it is a struggle in which the other is not allowed interpretation).
One final ingredient must be added that is the spirit or 'meta meaning' of the struggle.
We saw the Hegelian dialectic overcoming and Nietschean battle of interpretations, but in what backdrop is this played out? Chess is a game of winning and losing, those interpretations are fixed, but the style of the struggle is not.
Also in this style we see a constant overcoming, and an overcoming that seems to follow trends also visible in the 'big' world.
In the romantic era chess was seen as art. The matches included spectacular attacks, flows of combinations and dazzling moves. One did not just win, one wanted to win in the most spectacular manner. Because the other complied and tried the same, beauty arose. Chess was played Nietzschean, im Groszen Stil.
Untill one didn't want to play like that anymore.... Wilhelm Steinitz went on to analyse chess in a scientific manner. He defeated all romantics and became the first world champion. His scientific ideas soon took hold and chess became decidedly boring. Yes, the winning move did indeed seem to be the 'objective' best one. The world champion Jose Raul Capablanca declared that chess would soon be dead, because it was known how it should be played. Chess was science.
He didn't have to wait long to be proven wrong. The modern movement came, spearheaded by aforementioned Nimzowitsch and his interpretive chess. The old scientific ideas were replaced by a line of play that was both scientific, but also had flair. Nimzowitsch is yet read by nearly all grandmasters in the world.
In today's world chess is ruled not by romantism, not by scientism, but by sports. Not defeating opponents in a beautiful way is required, not correct, scientific play either. What is required is training, good health, fitness and determination, than just plain winning. Maybe romantism and scientism have been overcome...
Can the world be compared to chess? Are there immutable laws of nature which shape the arena in which people going about their business wage a eternal battle against each other? Do they in their battle yet affirm each other and so create something like ethics, a mutual searching and challenging? Is this game silently rocked back and force by a historical 'spirit', like rationality, mysticism, enlightnment and so on?
Might material, will and historicity be not only forces that shape the small world of chess, but also our big bad human sized world?
By Tobias
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If the American was killed by a non-muslim and hence the event staged, good riddance. On the other hand, should Muslims be the executors then "jazaahum allahu khayran". Also, we need not worry of "negative publicity" as our reputation, as it were, is in the abyss...
With Salaaams
PK
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If the American was killed by a non-muslim and hence the event staged, good riddance. On the other hand, should Muslims be the executors then "jazaahum allahu khayran". Also, we need not worry of "negative publicity" as our reputation, as it were, is in the abyss...
With Salaaams
PK
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Originally posted by Rahima:Are you Somali brother
? [/QB]A Somali I am; my mother's father is Iraqi and hence the Iraqi relation. By the way, I have the pleasure of being acquainted with many Somalis who have espoused the Ahlul Bayt belief system. Indeed, the Ahlul Bayt are the Ark of Salvation in a stormy sea of hypocirsy.
With Salaams
PK
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Both the taping of this incident and the beheading serve a strategic military strategem. Walahi with elation and delight the beheading of the American I watched.
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By God, should I be presented with an opurtunity to behead an american soldier or civillian in Iraq , I would not for instant vacillate. After my effective execution I would drink from his blood and keep his head as a souvieneer. :mad: And Yes, ALLAHU AKABR , ALLAHU AKBAR.
How dare you feel an iota of sympathy and empathy for an American. Have not you seen the attrocites inflicted by them everyday; with gut-tightening and stomach churning effect I view those grotesquely gruesome images everyday. Being a devout shi'i , having resided in Iraq, and having ancestral ties to that nation ignites my fury all the more! :mad:
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At my old age I do not fancy the establishment of the so-called Islamic Khalifa; thusly I am of the same opinion as Zaylici. However, it seems that Sophist and Concious Manipulation are dogmatists.
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Originally posted by Qac Qaac:again I CHALLANGED U, TO FIND FOR ME ONE PLACE IMAM JACFAR SAID, I AM SHIAT?.... u could even ask the shiat scholars if u want this issue...pPerhaps Sayfuallah chose not answer your questions Qaac Qaac. However, in the spirit of Islamic debate and discussion, I will answer all your queries. Your previous post was composed of lies, lies, and more lies. God willing, I shall visit you at Carelton University in the near future; and we shall at length debate our differences. At any rate, I shall abruptly finish now...
With Salaams
PK
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Some people say that all of western philosophy is but footnotes to Plato; some add that the writer of these footnotes is no other than Aristotle. The Dialogues of Plato are a great read. Enjoy!
Apology
by Plato
Written c. 360 B.C.
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
Socrates' Defense
How you have felt, O men of Athens, at hearing the speeches of my
accusers, I cannot tell; but I know that their persuasive words almost
made me forget who I was -- such was the effect of them; and yet they
have hardly spoken a word of truth. But many as their falsehoods were,
there was one of them which quite amazed me; -- I mean when they told
you to be upon your guard, and not to let yourselves be deceived by the
force of my eloquence. They ought to have been ashamed of saying this,
because they were sure to be detected as soon as I opened my lips and
displayed my deficiency; they certainly did appear to be most shameless
in saying this, unless by the force of eloquence they mean the force of
truth; for then I do indeed admit that I am eloquent. But in how
different a way from theirs! Well, as I was saying, they have hardly
uttered a word, or not more than a word, of truth; but you shall hear
from me the whole truth: not, however, delivered after their manner, in
a set oration duly ornamented with words and phrases. No indeed! but I
shall use the words and arguments which occur to me at the moment; for I
am certain that this is right, and that at my time of life I ought not
to be appearing before you, O men of Athens, in the character of a
juvenile orator -- let no one expect this of me. And I must beg of you
to grant me one favor, which is this -- If you hear me using the same
words in my defence which I have been in the habit of using, and which
most of you may have heard in the agora, and at the tables of the
money-changers, or anywhere else, I would ask you not to be surprised at
this, and not to interrupt me. For I am more than seventy years of age,
and this is the first time that I have ever appeared in a court of law,
and I am quite a stranger to the ways of the place; and therefore I
would have you regard me as if I were really a stranger, whom you would
excuse if he spoke in his native tongue, and after the fashion of his
country; -- that I think is not an unfair request. Never mind the
manner, which may or may not be good; but think only of the justice of
my cause, and give heed to that: let the judge decide justly and the
speaker speak truly.
And first, I have to reply to the older charges and to my first
accusers, and then I will go to the later ones. For I have had many
accusers, who accused me of old, and their false charges have continued
during many years; and I am more afraid of them than of Anytus and his
associates, who are dangerous, too, in their own way. But far more
dangerous are these, who began when you were children, and took
possession of your minds with their falsehoods, telling of one Socrates,
a wise man, who speculated about the heaven above, and searched into the
earth beneath, and made the worse appear the better cause. These are the
accusers whom I dread; for they are the circulators of this rumor, and
their hearers are too apt to fancy that speculators of this sort do not
believe in the gods. And they are many, and their charges against me are
of ancient date, and they made them in days when you were impressible --
in childhood, or perhaps in youth -- and the cause when heard went by
default, for there was none to answer. And, hardest of all, their names
I do not know and cannot tell; unless in the chance of a comic poet. But
the main body of these slanderers who from envy and malice have wrought
upon you -- and there are some of them who are convinced themselves, and
impart their convictions to others -- all these, I say, are most
difficult to deal with; for I cannot have them up here, and examine
them, and therefore I must simply fight with shadows in my own defence,
and examine when there is no one who answers. I will ask you then to
assume with me, as I was saying, that my opponents are of two kinds --
one recent, the other ancient; and I hope that you will see the
propriety of my answering the latter first, for these accusations you
heard long before the others, and much oftener.
Well, then, I will make my defence, and I will endeavor in the short
time which is allowed to do away with this evil opinion of me which you
have held for such a long time; and I hope I may succeed, if this be
well for you and me, and that my words may find favor with you. But I
know that to accomplish this is not easy -- I quite see the nature of
the task. Let the event be as God wills: in obedience to the law I make
my defence.
I will begin at the beginning, and ask what the accusation is which has
given rise to this slander of me, and which has encouraged Meletus to
proceed against me. What do the slanderers say? They shall be my
prosecutors, and I will sum up their words in an affidavit. "Socrates is
an evil-doer, and a curious person, who searches into things under the
earth and in heaven, and he makes the worse appear the better cause; and
he teaches the aforesaid doctrines to others." That is the nature of the
accusation, and that is what you have seen yourselves in the comedy of
Aristophanes; who has introduced a man whom he calls Socrates, going
about and saying that he can walk in the air, and talking a deal of
nonsense concerning matters of which I do not pretend to know either
much or little -- not that I mean to say anything disparaging of anyone
who is a student of natural philosophy. I should be very sorry if
Meletus could lay that to my charge. But the simple truth is, O
Athenians, that I have nothing to do with these studies. Very many of
those here present are witnesses to the truth of this, and to them I
appeal. Speak then, you who have heard me, and tell your neighbors
whether any of you have ever known me hold forth in few words or in many
upon matters of this sort. ... You hear their answer. And from what they
say of this you will be able to judge of the truth of the rest.
As little foundation is there for the report that I am a teacher, and
take money; that is no more true than the other. Although, if a man is
able to teach, I honor him for being paid. There is Gorgias of Leontium,
and Prodicus of Ceos, and Hippias of Elis, who go the round of the
cities, and are able to persuade the young men to leave their own
citizens, by whom they might be taught for nothing, and come to them,
whom they not only pay, but are thankful if they may be allowed to pay
them. There is actually a Parian philosopher residing in Athens, of whom
I have heard; and I came to hear of him in this way: -- I met a man who
has spent a world of money on the Sophists, Callias the son of
Hipponicus, and knowing that he had sons, I asked him: "Callias," I
said, "if your two sons were foals or calves, there would be no
difficulty in finding someone to put over them; we should hire a trainer
of horses or a farmer probably who would improve and perfect them in
their own proper virtue and excellence; but as they are human beings,
whom are you thinking of placing over them? Is there anyone who
understands human and political virtue? You must have thought about this
as you have sons; is there anyone?" "There is," he said. "Who is he?"
said I, "and of what country? and what does he charge?" "Evenusthe
Parian," he replied; "he is the man, and his charge is five minae."
Happy is Evenus, I said to myself, if he really has this wisdom, and
teaches at such a modest charge. Had I the same, I should have been very
proud and conceited; but the truth is that I have no knowledge of the
kind.
I dare say, Athenians, that someone among you will reply, "Why is this,
Socrates, and what is the origin of these accusations of you: for there
must have been something strange which you have been doing? All this
great fame and talk about you would never have arisen if you had been
like other men: tell us, then, why this is, as we should be sorry to
judge hastily of you." Now I regard this as a fair challenge, and I will
endeavor to explain to you the origin of this name of "wise," and of
this evil fame. Please to attend then. And although some of you may
think I am joking, I declare that I will tell you the entire truth. Men
of Athens, this reputation of mine has come of a certain sort of wisdom
which I possess. If you ask me what kind of wisdom, I reply, such wisdom
as is attainable by man, for to that extent I am inclined to believe
that I am wise; whereas the persons of whom I was speaking have a
superhuman wisdom, which I may fail to describe, because I have it not
myself; and he who says that I have, speaks falsely, and is taking away
my character. And here, O men of Athens, I must beg you not to interrupt
me, even if I seem to say something extravagant. For the word which I
will speak is not mine. I will refer you to a witness who is worthy of
credit, and will tell you about my wisdom -- whether I have any, and of
what sort -- and that witness shall be the god of Delphi. You must have
known Chaerephon; he was early a friend of mine, and also a friend of
yours, for he shared in the exile of the people, and returned with you.
Well, Chaerephon, as you know, was very impetuous in all his doings, and
he went to Delphi and boldly asked the oracle to tell him whether -- as
I was saying, I must beg you not to interrupt -- he asked the oracle to
tell him whether there was anyone wiser than I was, and the Pythian
prophetess answered that there was no man wiser. Chaerephon is dead
himself, but his brother, who is in court, will confirm the truth of
this story.
Why do I mention this? Because I am going to explain to you why I have
such an evil name. When I heard the answer, I said to myself, What can
the god mean? and what is the interpretation of this riddle? for I know
that I have no wisdom, small or great. What can he mean when he says
that I am the wisest of men? And yet he is a god and cannot lie; that
would be against his nature. After a long consideration, I at last
thought of a method of trying the question. I reflected that if I could
only find a man wiser than myself, then I might go to the god with a
refutation in my hand. I should say to him, "Here is a man who is wiser
than I am; but you said that I was the wisest." Accordingly I went to
one who had the reputation of wisdom, and observed to him -- his name I
need not mention; he was a politician whom I selected for examination --
and the result was as follows: When I began to talk with him, I could
not help thinking that he was not really wise, although he was thought
wise by many, and wiser still by himself; and I went and tried to
explain to him that he thought himself wise, but was not really wise;
and the consequence was that he hated me, and his enmity was shared by
several who were present and heard me. So I left him, saying to myself,
as I went away: Well, although I do not suppose that either of us knows
anything really beautiful and good, I am better off than he is -- for he
knows nothing, and thinks that he knows. I neither know nor think that I
know. In this latter particular, then, I seem to have slightly the
advantage of him. Then I went to another, who had still higher
philosophical pretensions, and my conclusion was exactly the same. I
made another enemy of him, and of many others besides him.
After this I went to one man after another, being not unconscious of the
enmity which I provoked, and I lamented and feared this: but necessity
was laid upon me -- the word of God, I thought, ought to be considered
first. And I said to myself, Go I must to all who appear to know, and
find out the meaning of the oracle. And I swear to you, Athenians, by
the dog I swear! -- for I must tell you the truth -- the result of my
mission was just this: I found that the men most in repute were all but
the most foolish; and that some inferior men were really wiser and
better. I will tell you the tale of my wanderings and of the "Herculean"
labors, as I may call them, which I endured only to find at last the
oracle irrefutable. When I left the politicians, I went to the poets;
tragic, dithyrambic, and all sorts. And there, I said to myself, you
will be detected; now you will find out that you are more ignorant than
they are. Accordingly, I took them some of the most elaborate passages
in their own writings, and asked what was the meaning of them --
thinking that they would teach me something. Will you believe me? I am
almost ashamed to speak of this, but still I must say that there is
hardly a person present who would not have talked better about their
poetry than they did themselves. That showed me in an instant that not
by wisdom do poets write poetry, but by a sort of genius and
inspiration; they are like diviners or soothsayers who also say many
fine things, but do not understand the meaning of them. And the poets
appeared to me to be much in the same case; and I further observed that
upon the strength of their poetry they believed themselves to be the
wisest of men in other things in which they were not wise. So I
departed, conceiving myself to be superior to them for the same reason
that I was superior to the politicians.
At last I went to the artisans, for I was conscious that I knew nothing
at all, as I may say, and I was sure that they knew many fine things;
and in this I was not mistaken, for they did know many things of which I
was ignorant, and in this they certainly were wiser than I was. But I
observed that even the good artisans fell into the same error as the
poets; because they were good workmen they thought that they also knew
all sorts of high matters, and this defect in them overshadowed their
wisdom -- therefore I asked myself on behalf of the oracle, whether I
would like to be as I was, neither having their knowledge nor their
ignorance, or like them in both; and I made answer to myself and the
oracle that I was better off as I was.
This investigation has led to my having many enemies of the worst and
most dangerous kind, and has given occasion also to many calumnies, and
I am called wise, for my hearers always imagine that I myself possess
the wisdom which I find wanting in others: but the truth is, O men of
Athens, that God only is wise; and in this oracle he means to say that
the wisdom of men is little or nothing; he is not speaking of Socrates,
he is only using my name as an illustration, as if he said, He, O men,
is the wisest, who, like Socrates, knows that his wisdom is in truth
worth nothing. And so I go my way, obedient to the god, and make
inquisition into the wisdom of anyone, whether citizen or stranger, who
appears to be wise; and if he is not wise, then in vindication of the
oracle I show him that he is not wise; and this occupation quite absorbs
me, and I have no time to give either to any public matter of interest
or to any concern of my own, but I am in utter poverty by reason of my
devotion to the god.
There is another thing: -- young men of the richer classes, who have not
much to do, come about me of their own accord; they like to hear the
pretenders examined, and they often imitate me, and examine others
themselves; there are plenty of persons, as they soon enough discover,
who think that they know something, but really know little or nothing:
and then those who are examined by them instead of being angry with
themselves are angry with me: This confounded Socrates, they say; this
villainous misleader of youth! -- and then if somebody asks them, Why,
what evil does he practise or teach? they do not know, and cannot tell;
but in order that they may not appear to be at a loss, they repeat the
ready-made charges which are used against all philosophers about
teaching things up in the clouds and under the earth, and having no
gods, and making the worse appear the better cause; for they do not like
to confess that their pretence of knowledge has been detected -- which
is the truth: and as they are numerous and ambitious and energetic, and
are all in battle array and have persuasive tongues, they have filled
your ears with their loud and inveterate calumnies. And this is the
reason why my three accusers, Meletus and Anytus and Lycon, have set
upon me; Meletus, who has a quarrel with me on behalf of the poets;
Anytus, on behalf of the craftsmen; Lycon, on behalf of the
rhetoricians: and as I said at the beginning, I cannot expect to get rid
of this mass of calumny all in a moment. And this, O men of Athens, is
the truth and the whole truth; I have concealed nothing, I have
dissembled nothing. And yet I know that this plainness of speech makes
them hate me, and what is their hatred but a proof that I am speaking
the truth? -- this is the occasion and reason of their slander of me, as
you will find out either in this or in any future inquiry.
I have said enough in my defence against the first class of my accusers;
I turn to the second class, who are headed by Meletus, that good and
patriotic man, as he calls himself. And now I will try to defend myself
against them: these new accusers must also have their affidavit read.
What do they say? Something of this sort: -- That Socrates is a doer of
evil, and corrupter of the youth, and he does not believe in the gods of
the state, and has other new divinities of his own. That is the sort of
charge; and now let us examine the particular counts. He says that I am
a doer of evil, who corrupt the youth; but I say, O men of Athens, that
Meletus is a doer of evil, and the evil is that he makes a joke of a
serious matter, and is too ready at bringing other men to trial from a
pretended zeal and interest about matters in which he really never had
the smallest interest. And the truth of this I will endeavor to prove.
Come hither, Meletus, and let me ask a question of you. You think a
great deal about the improvement of youth?
Yes, I do.
Tell the judges, then, who is their improver; for you must know, as you
have taken the pains to discover their corrupter, and are citing and
accusing me before them. Speak, then, and tell the judges who their
improver is. Observe, Meletus, that you are silent, and have nothing to
say. But is not this rather disgraceful, and a very considerable proof
of what I was saying, that you have no interest in the matter? Speak up,
friend, and tell us who their improver is.
The laws.
But that, my good sir, is not my meaning. I want to know who the person
is, who, in the first place, knows the laws.
The judges, Socrates, who are present in court.
What do you mean to say, Meletus, that they are able to instruct and
improve youth?
Certainly they are.
What, all of them, or some only and not others?
All of them.
By the goddess Here, that is good news! There are plenty of improvers,
then. And what do you say of the audience, -- do they improve them?
Yes, they do.
And the senators?
Yes, the senators improve them.
But perhaps the members of the citizen assembly corrupt them? -- or do
they too improve them?
They improve them.
Then every Athenian improves and elevates them; all with the exception
of myself; and I alone am their corrupter? Is that what you affirm?
That is what I stoutly affirm.
I am very unfortunate if that is true. But suppose I ask you a question:
Would you say that this also holds true in the case of horses? Does one
man do them harm and all the world good? Is not the exact opposite of
this true? One man is able to do them good, or at least not many; -- the
trainer of horses, that is to say, does them good, and others who have
to do with them rather injure them? Is not that true, Meletus, of
horses, or any other animals? Yes, certainly. Whether you and Anytus say
yes or no, that is no matter. Happy indeed would be the condition of
youth if they had one corrupter only, and all the rest of the world were
their improvers. And you, Meletus, have sufficiently shown that you
never had a thought about the young: your carelessness is seen in your
not caring about matters spoken of in this very indictment.
And now, Meletus, I must ask you another question: Which is better, to
live among bad citizens, or among good ones? Answer, friend, I say; for
that is a question which may be easily answered. Do not the good do
their neighbors good, and the bad do them evil?
Certainly.
And is there anyone who would rather be injured than benefited by those
who live with him? Answer, my good friend; the law requires you to
answer -- does anyone like to be injured?
Certainly not.
And when you accuse me of corrupting and deteriorating the youth, do you
allege that I corrupt them intentionally or unintentionally?
Intentionally, I say.
But you have just admitted that the good do their neighbors good, and
the evil do them evil. Now is that a truth which your superior wisdom
has recognized thus early in life, and am I, at my age, in such darkness
and ignorance as not to know that if a man with whom I have to live is
corrupted by me, I am very likely to be harmed by him, and yet I corrupt
him, and intentionally, too; -- that is what you are saying, and of that
you will never persuade me or any other human being. But either I do not
corrupt them, or I corrupt them unintentionally, so that on either view
of the case you lie. If my offence is unintentional, the law has no
cognizance of unintentional offences: you ought to have taken me
privately, and warned and admonished me; for if I had been better
advised, I should have left off doing what I only did unintentionally --
no doubt I should; whereas you hated to converse with me or teach me,
but you indicted me in this court, which is a place not of instruction,
but of punishment.
I have shown, Athenians, as I was saying, that Meletus has no care at
all, great or small, about the matter. But still I should like to know,
Meletus, in what I am affirmed to corrupt the young. I suppose you mean,
as I infer from your indictment, that I teach them not to acknowledge
the gods which the state acknowledges, but some other new divinities or
spiritual agencies in their stead. These are the lessons which corrupt
the youth, as you say.
Yes, that I say emphatically.
Then, by the gods, Meletus, of whom we are speaking, tell me and the
court, in somewhat plainer terms, what you mean! for I do not as yet
understand whether you affirm that I teach others to acknowledge some
gods, and therefore do believe in gods and am not an entire atheist --
this you do not lay to my charge; but only that they are not the same
gods which the city recognizes -- the charge is that they are different
gods. Or, do you mean to say that I am an atheist simply, and a teacher
of atheism?
I mean the latter -- that you are a complete atheist.
That is an extraordinary statement, Meletus. Why do you say that? Do you
mean that I do not believe in the godhead of the sun or moon, which is
the common creed of all men?
I assure you, judges, that he does not believe in them; for he says that
the sun is stone, and the moon earth.
Friend Meletus, you think that you are accusing Anaxagoras; and you have
but a bad opinion of the judges, if you fancy them ignorant to such a
degree as not to know that those doctrines are found in the books of
Anaxagoras the Clazomenian, who is full of them. And these are the
doctrines which the youth are said to learn of Socrates, when there are
not unfrequently exhibitions of them at the theatre (price of admission
one drachma at the most); and they might cheaply purchase them, and
laugh at Socrates if he pretends to father such eccentricities. And so,
Meletus, you really think that I do not believe in any god?
I swear by Zeus that you believe absolutely in none at all.
You are a liar, Meletus, not believed even by yourself. For I cannot
help thinking, O men of Athens, that Meletus is reckless and impudent,
and that he has written this indictment in a spirit of mere wantonness
and youthful bravado. Has he not compounded a riddle, thinking to try
me? He said to himself: -- I shall see whether this wise Socrates will
discover my ingenious contradiction, or whether I shall be able to
deceive him and the rest of them. For he certainly does appear to me to
contradict himself in the indictment as much as if he said that Socrates
is guilty of not believing in the gods, and yet of believing in them --
but this surely is a piece of fun.
I should like you, O men of Athens, to join me in examining what I
conceive to be his inconsistency; and do you, Meletus, answer. And I
must remind you that you are not to interrupt me if I speak in my
accustomed manner.
Did ever man, Meletus, believe in the existence of human things, and not
of human beings? ... I wish, men of Athens, that he would answer, and
not be always trying to get up an interruption. Did ever any man believe
in horsemanship, and not in horses? or in flute-playing, and not in
flute-players? No, my friend; I will answer to you and to the court, as
you refuse to answer for yourself. There is no man who ever did. But now
please to answer the next question: Can a man believe in spiritual and
divine agencies, and not in spirits or demigods?
He cannot.
I am glad that I have extracted that answer, by the assistance of the
court; nevertheless you swear in the indictment that I teach and believe
in divine or spiritual agencies (new or old, no matter for that); at any
rate, I believe in spiritual agencies, as you say and swear in the
affidavit; but if I believe in divine beings, I must believe in spirits
or demigods; -- is not that true? Yes, that is true, for I may assume
that your silence gives assent to that. Now what are spirits or
demigods? are they not either gods or the sons of gods? Is that true?
Yes, that is true.
But this is just the ingenious riddle of which I was speaking: the
demigods or spirits are gods, and you say first that I don't believe in
gods, and then again that I do believe in gods; that is, if I believe in
demigods. For if the demigods are the illegitimate sons of gods, whether
by the Nymphs or by any other mothers, as is thought, that, as all men
will allow, necessarily implies the existence of their parents. You
might as well affirm the existence of mules, and deny that of horses and
asses. Such nonsense, Meletus, could only have been intended by you as a
trial of me. You have put this into the indictment because you had
nothing real of which to accuse me. But no one who has a particle of
understanding will ever be convinced by you that the same man can
believe in divine and superhuman things, and yet not believe that there
are gods and demigods and heroes.
I have said enough in answer to the charge of Meletus: any elaborate
defence is unnecessary; but as I was saying before, I certainly have
many enemies, and this is what will be my destruction if I am destroyed;
of that I am certain; -- not Meletus, nor yet Anytus, but the envy and
detraction of the world, which has been the death of many good men, and
will probably be the death of many more; there is no danger of my being
the last of them.
Someone will say: And are you not ashamed, Socrates, of a course of life
which is likely to bring you to an untimely end? To him I may fairly
answer: There you are mistaken: a man who is good for anything ought not
to calculate the chance of living or dying; he ought only to consider
whether in doing anything he is doing right or wrong -- acting the part
of a good man or of a bad. Whereas, according to your view, the heroes
who fell at Troy were not good for much, and the son of Thetis above
all, who altogether despised danger in comparison with disgrace; and
when his goddess mother said to him, in his eagerness to slay Hector,
that if he avenged his companion Patroclus, and slew Hector, he would
die himself -- "Fate," as she said, "waits upon you next after Hector";
he, hearing this, utterly despised danger and death,and instead of
fearing them, feared rather to live in dishonor, and not to avenge his
friend. "Let me die next," he replies, "and be avenged of my enemy,
rather than abide here by the beaked ships, a scorn and a burden of the
earth." Had Achilles any thought of death and danger? For wherever a
man's place is, whether the place which he has chosen or that in which
he has been placed by a commander, there he ought to remain in the hour
of danger; he should not think of death or of anything, but of disgrace.
And this, O men of Athens, is a true saying.
Strange, indeed, would be my conduct, O men of Athens, if I who, when I
was ordered by the generals whom you chose to command me at Potidaea and
Amphipolis and Delium, remained where they placed me, like any other
man, facing death; if, I say, now, when, as I conceive and imagine, God
orders me to fulfil the philosopher's mission of searching into myself
and other men, I were to desert my post through fear of death, or any
other fear; that would indeed be strange, and I might justly be
arraigned in court for denying the existence of the gods, if I disobeyed
the oracle because I was afraid of death: then I should be fancying that
I was wise when I was not wise. For this fear of death is indeed the
pretence of wisdom, and not real wisdom, being the appearance of knowing
the unknown; since no one knows whether death, which they in their fear
apprehend to be the greatest evil, may not be the greatest good. Is
there not here conceit of knowledge, which is a disgraceful sort of
ignorance? And this is the point in which, as I think, I am superior to
men in general, and in which I might perhaps fancy myself wiser than
other men, -- that whereas I know but little of the world below, I do
not suppose that I know: but I do know that injustice and disobedience
to a better, whether God or man, is evil and dishonorable, and I will
never fear or avoid a possible good rather than a certain evil. And
therefore if you let me go now, and reject the counsels of Anytus, who
said that if I were not put to death I ought not to have been
prosecuted, and that if I escape now, your sons will all be utterly
ruined by listening to my words -- if you say to me, Socrates, this time
we will not mind Anytus, and will let you off, but upon one condition,
that are to inquire and speculate in this way any more, and that if you
are caught doing this again you shall die; -- if this was the condition
on which you let me go, I should reply: Men of Athens, I honor and love
you; but I shall obey God rather than you, and while I have life and
strength I shall never cease from the practice and teaching of
philosophy, exhorting anyone whom I meet after my manner, and convincing
him, saying: O my friend, why do you who are a citizen of the great and
mighty and wise city of Athens, care so much about laying up the
greatest amount of money and honor and reputation, and so little about
wisdom and truth and the greatest improvement of the soul, which you
never regard or heed at all? Are you not ashamed of this? And if the
person with whom I am arguing says: Yes, but I do care; I do not depart
or let him go at once; I interrogate and examine and cross-examine him,
and if I think that he has no virtue, but only says that he has, I
reproach him with undervaluing the greater, and overvaluing the less.
And this I should say to everyone whom I meet, young and old, citizen
and alien, but especially to the citizens, inasmuch as they are my
brethren. For this is the command of God, as I would have you know; and
I believe that to this day no greater good has ever happened in the
state than my service to the God. For I do nothing but go about
persuading you all, old and young alike, not to take thought for your
persons and your properties, but first and chiefly to care about the
greatest improvement of the soul. I tell you that virtue is not given by
money, but that from virtue come money and every other good of man,
public as well as private. This is my teaching, and if this is the
doctrine which corrupts the youth, my influence is ruinous indeed. But
if anyone says that this is not my teaching, he is speaking an untruth.
Wherefore, O men of Athens, I say to you, do as Anytus bids or not as
Anytus bids, and either acquit me or not; but whatever you do, know that
I shall never alter my ways, not even if I have to die many times.
Men of Athens, do not interrupt, but hear me; there was an agreement
between us that you should hear me out. And I think that what I am going
to say will do you good: for I have something more to say, at which you
may be inclined to cry out; but I beg that you will not do this. I would
have you know that, if you kill such a one as I am, you will injure
yourselves more than you will injure me. Meletus and Anytus will not
injure me: they cannot; for it is not in the nature of things that a bad
man should injure a better than himself. I do not deny that he may,
perhaps, kill him, or drive him into exile, or deprive him of civil
rights; and he may imagine, and others may imagine, that he is doing him
a great injury: but in that I do not agree with him; for the evil of
doing as Anytus is doing -- of unjustly taking away another man's life
-- is greater far. And now, Athenians, I am not going to argue for my
own sake, as you may think, but for yours, that you may not sin against
the God, or lightly reject his boon by condemning me. For if you kill me
you will not easily find another like me, who, if I may use such a
ludicrous figure of speech, am a sort of gadfly, given to the state by
the God; and the state is like a great and noble steed who is tardy in
his motions owing to his very size, and requires to be stirred into
life. I am that gadfly which God has given the state and all day long
and in all places am always fastening upon you, arousing and persuading
and reproaching you. And as you will not easily find another like me, I
would advise you to spare me. I dare say that you may feel irritated at
being suddenly awakened when you are caught napping; and you may think
that if you were to strike me dead, as Anytus advises, which you easily
might, then you would sleep on for the remainder of your lives, unless
God in his care of you gives you another gadfly. And that I am given to
you by God is proved by this: -- that if I had been like other men, I
should not have neglected all my own concerns, or patiently seen the
neglect of them during all these years, and have been doing yours,
coming to you individually, like a father or elder brother, exhorting
you to regard virtue; this I say, would not be like human nature. And
had I gained anything, or if my exhortations had been paid, there would
have been some sense in that: but now, as you will perceive, not even
the impudence of my accusers dares to say that I have ever exacted or
sought pay of anyone; they have no witness of that. And I have a witness
of the truth of what I say; my poverty is a sufficient witness.
Someone may wonder why I go about in private, giving advice and busying
myself with the concerns of others, but do not venture to come forward
in public and advise the state. I will tell you the reason of this. You
have often heard me speak of an oracle or sign which comes to me, and is
the divinity which Meletus ridicules in the indictment. This sign I have
had ever since I was a child. The sign is a voice which comes to me and
always forbids me to do something which I am going to do, but never
commands me to do anything, and this is what stands in the way of my
being a politician. And rightly, as I think. For I am certain, O men of
Athens, that if I had engaged in politics, I should have perished long
ago and done no good either to you or to myself. And don't be offended
at my telling you the truth: for the truth is that no man who goes to
war with you or any other multitude, honestly struggling against the
commission of unrighteousness and wrong in the state, will save his
life; he who will really fight for the right, if he would live even for
a little while, must have a private station and not a public one.
I can give you as proofs of this, not words only, but deeds, which you
value more than words. Let me tell you a passage of my own life, which
will prove to you that I should never have yielded to injustice from any
fear of death, and that if I had not yielded I should have died at once.
I will tell you a story -- tasteless, perhaps, and commonplace, but
nevertheless true. The only office of state which I ever held, O men of
Athens, was that of senator; the tribe Antiochis, which is my tribe, had
the presidency at the trial of the generals who had not taken up the
bodies of the slain after the battle of Arginusae; and you proposed to
try them all together, which was illegal, as you all thought afterwards;
but at the time I was the only one of the Prytanes who was opposed to
the illegality, and I gave my vote against you; and when the orators
threatened to impeach and arrest me, and have me taken away, and you
called and shouted, I made up my mind that I would run the risk, having
law and justice with me, rather than take part in your injustice because
I feared imprisonment and death. This happened in the days of the
democracy. But when the oligarchy of the Thirty was in power, they sent
for me and four others into the rotunda, and bade us bring Leon the
Salaminian from Salamis, as they wanted to execute him. This was a
specimen of the sort of commands which they were always giving with the
view of implicating as many as possible in their crimes; and then I
showed, not in words only, but in deed, that, if I may be allowed to use
such an expression, I cared not a straw for death, and that my only fear
was the fear of doing an unrighteous or unholy thing. For the strong arm
of that oppressive power did not frighten me into doing wrong; and when
we came out of the rotunda the other four went to Salamis and fetched
Leon, but I went quietly home. For which I might have lost my life, had
not the power of the Thirty shortly afterwards come to an end. And to
this many will witness.
Now do you really imagine that I could have survived all these years, if
I had led a public life, supposing that like a good man I had always
supported the right and had made justice, as I ought, the first thing?
No, indeed, men of Athens, neither I nor any other. But I have been
always the same in all my actions, public as well as private, and never
have I yielded any base compliance to those who are slanderously termed
my disciples or to any other. For the truth is that I have no regular
disciples: but if anyone likes to come and hear me while I am pursuing
my mission, whether he be young or old, he may freely come. Nor do I
converse with those who pay only, and not with those who do not pay; but
anyone, whether he be rich or poor, may ask and answer me and listen to
my words; and whether he turns out to be a bad man or a good one, that
cannot be justly laid to my charge, as I never taught him anything. And
if anyone says that he has ever learned or heard anything from me in
private which all the world has not heard, I should like you to know
that he is speaking an untruth.
But I shall be asked, Why do people delight in continually conversing
with you? I have told you already, Athenians, the whole truth about
this: they like to hear the cross-examination of the pretenders to
wisdom; there is amusement in this. And this is a duty which the God has
imposed upon me, as I am assured by oracles, visions, and in every sort
of way in which the will of divine power was ever signified to anyone.
This is true, O Athenians; or, if not true, would be soon refuted. For
if I am really corrupting the youth, and have corrupted some of them
already, those of them who have grown up and have become sensible that I
gave them bad advice in the days of their youth should come forward as
accusers and take their revenge; and if they do not like to come
themselves, some of their relatives, fathers, brothers, or other
kinsmen, should say what evil their families suffered at my hands. Now
is their time. Many of them I see in the court. There is Crito, who is
of the same age and of the same deme with myself; and there is
Critobulus his son, whom I also see. Then again there is Lysanias of
Sphettus, who is the father of Aeschines -- he is present; and also
there is Antiphon of Cephisus, who is the father of Epignes; and there
are the brothers of several who have associated with me. There is
Nicostratus the son of Theosdotides, and the brother of Theodotus (now
Theodotus himself is dead, and therefore he, at any rate, will not seek
to stop him); and there is Paralus the son of Demodocus, who had a
brother Theages; and Adeimantus the son of Ariston, whose brother Plato
is present; and Aeantodorus, who is the brother of Apollodorus, whom I
also see. I might mention a great many others, any of whom Meletus
should have produced as witnesses in the course of his speech; and let
him still produce them, if he has forgotten -- I will make way for him.
And let him say, if he has any testimony of the sort which he can
produce. Nay, Athenians, the very opposite is the truth. For all these
are ready to witness on behalf of the corrupter, of the destroyer of
their kindred, as Meletus and Anytus call me; not the corrupted youth
only -- there might have been a motive for that -- but their uncorrupted
elder relatives. Why should they too support me with their testimony?
Why, indeed, except for the sake of truth and justice, and because they
know that I am speaking the truth, and that Meletus is lying.
Well, Athenians, this and the like of this is nearly all the defence
which I have to offer. Yet a word more. Perhaps there may be someone who
is offended at me, when he calls to mind how he himself, on a similar or
even a less serious occasion, had recourse to prayers and supplications
with many tears, and how he produced his children in court, which was a
moving spectacle, together with a posse of his relations and friends;
whereas I, who am probably in danger of my life, will do none of these
things. Perhaps this may come into his mind, and he may be set against
me, and vote in anger because he is displeased at this. Now if there be
such a person among you, which I am far from affirming, I may fairly
reply to him: My friend, I am a man, and like other men, a creature of
flesh and blood, and not of wood or stone, as Homer says; and I have a
family, yes, and sons. O Athenians, three in number, one of whom is
growing up, and the two others are still young; and yet I will not bring
any of them hither in order to petition you for an acquittal. And why
not? Not from any self-will or disregard of you. Whether I am or am not
afraid of death is another question, of which I will not now speak. But
my reason simply is that I feel such conduct to be discreditable to
myself, and you, and the whole state. One who has reached my years, and
who has a name for wisdom, whether deserved or not, ought not to debase
himself. At any rate, the world has decided that Socrates is in some way
superior to other men. And if those among you who are said to be
superior in wisdom and courage, and any other virtue, demean themselves
in this way, how shameful is their conduct! I have seen men of
reputation, when they have been condemned, behaving in the strangest
manner: they seemed to fancy that they were going to suffer something
dreadful if they died, and that they could be immortal if you only
allowed them to live; and I think that they were a dishonor to the
state, and that any stranger coming in would say of them that the most
eminent men of Athens, to whom the Athenians themselves give honor and
command, are no better than women. And I say that these things ought not
to be done by those of us who are of reputation; and if they are done,
you ought not to permit them; you ought rather to show that you are more
inclined to condemn, not the man who is quiet, but the man who gets up a
doleful scene, and makes the city ridiculous.
But, setting aside the question of dishonor, there seems to be something
wrong in petitioning a judge, and thus procuring an acquittal instead of
informing and convincing him. For his duty is, not to make a present of
justice, but to give judgment; and he has sworn that he will judge
according to the laws, and not according to his own good pleasure; and
neither he nor we should get into the habit of perjuring ourselves --
there can be no piety in that. Do not then require me to do what I
consider dishonorable and impious and wrong, especially now, when I am
being tried for impiety on the indictment of Meletus. For if, O men of
Athens, by force of persuasion and entreaty, I could overpower your
oaths, then I should be teaching you to believe that there are no gods,
and convict myself, in my own defence, of not believing in them. But
that is not the case; for I do believe that there are gods, and in a far
higher sense than that in which any of my accusers believe in them. And
to you and to God I commit my cause, to be determined by you as is best
for you and me.
The jury finds Socrates guilty.
Socrates' Proposal for his Sentence
There are many reasons why I am not grieved, O men of Athens, at the
vote of condemnation. I expected it, and am only surprised that the
votes are so nearly equal; for I had thought that the majority against
me would have been far larger; but now, had thirty votes gone over to
the other side, I should have been acquitted. And I may say that I have
escaped Meletus. And I may say more; for without the assistance of
Anytus and Lycon, he would not have had a fifth part of the votes, as
the law requires, in which case he would have incurred a fine of a
thousand drachmae, as is evident.
And so he proposes death as the penalty. And what shall I propose on my
part, O men of Athens? Clearly that which is my due. And what is that
which I ought to pay or to receive? What shall be done to the man who
has never had the wit to be idle during his whole life; but has been
careless of what the many care about -- wealth, and family interests,
and military offices, and speaking in the assembly, and magistracies,
and plots, and parties. Reflecting that I was really too honest a man to
follow in this way and live, I did not go where I could do no good to
you or to myself; but where I could do the greatest good privately to
everyone of you, thither I went, and sought to persuade every man among
you that he must look to himself, and seek virtue and wisdom before he
looks to his private interests, and look to the state before he looks to
the interests of the state; and that this should be the order which he
observes in all his actions. What shall be done to such a one? Doubtless
some good thing, O men of Athens, if he has his reward; and the good
should be of a kind suitable to him. What would be a reward suitable to
a poor man who is your benefactor, who desires leisure that he may
instruct you? There can be no more fitting reward than maintenance in
the Prytaneum, O men of Athens, a reward which he deserves far more than
the citizen who has won the prize at Olympia in the horse or chariot
race, whether the chariots were drawn by two horses or by many. For I am
in want, and he has enough; and he only gives you the appearance of
happiness, and I give you the reality. And if I am to estimate the
penalty justly, I say that maintenance in the Prytaneum is the just
return.
Perhaps you may think that I am braving you in saying this, as in what I
said before about the tears and prayers. But that is not the case. I
speak rather because I am convinced that I never intentionally wronged
anyone, although I cannot convince you of that -- for we have had a
short conversation only; but if there were a law at Athens, such as
there is in other cities, that a capital cause should not be decided in
one day, then I believe that I should have convinced you; but now the
time is too short. I cannot in a moment refute great slanders; and, as I
am convinced that I never wronged another, I will assuredly not wrong
myself. I will not say of myself that I deserve any evil, or propose any
penalty. Why should I? Because I am afraid of the penalty of death which
Meletus proposes? When I do not know whether death is a good or an evil,
why should I propose a penalty which would certainly be an evil? Shall I
say imprisonment? And why should I live in prison, and be the slave of
the magistrates of the year -- of the Eleven? Or shall the penalty be a
fine, and imprisonment until the fine is paid? There is the same
objection. I should have to lie in prison, for money I have none, and I
cannot pay. And if I say exile (and this may possibly be the penalty
which you will affix), I must indeed be blinded by the love of life if I
were to consider that when you, who are my own citizens, cannot endure
my discourses and words, and have found them so grievous and odious that
you would fain have done with them, others are likely to endure me. No,
indeed, men of Athens, that is not very likely. And what a life should I
lead, at my age, wandering from city to city, living in ever-changing
exile, and always being driven out! For I am quite sure that into
whatever place I go, as here so also there, the young men will come to
me; and if I drive them away, their elders will drive me out at their
desire: and if I let them come, their fathers and friends will drive me
out for their sakes.
Someone will say: Yes, Socrates, but cannot you hold your tongue, and
then you may go into a foreign city, and no one will interfere with you?
Now I have great difficulty in making you understand my answer to this.
For if I tell you that this would be a disobedience to a divine command,
and therefore that I cannot hold my tongue, you will not believe that I
am serious; and if I say again that the greatest good of man is daily to
converse about virtue, and all that concerning which you hear me
examining myself and others, and that the life which is unexamined is
not worth living -- that you are still less likely to believe. And yet
what I say is true, although a thing of which it is hard for me to
persuade you. Moreover, I am not accustomed to think that I deserve any
punishment. Had I money I might have proposed to give you what I had,
and have been none the worse. But you see that I have none, and can only
ask you to proportion the fine to my means. However, I think that I
could afford a minae, and therefore I propose that penalty; Plato,
Crito, Critobulus, and Apollodorus, my friends here, bid me say thirty
minae, and they will be the sureties. Well then, say thirty minae, let
that be the penalty; for that they will be ample security to you.
The jury condemns Socrates to death.
Socrates' Comments on his Sentence
Not much time will be gained, O Athenians, in return for the evil name
which you will get from the detractors of the city, who will say that
you killed Socrates, a wise man; for they will call me wise even
although I am not wise when they want to reproach you. If you had waited
a little while, your desire would have been fulfilled in the course of
nature. For I am far advanced in years, as you may perceive, and not far
from death. I am speaking now only to those of you who have condemned me
to death. And I have another thing to say to them: You think that I was
convicted through deficiency of words -- I mean, that if I had thought
fit to leave nothing undone, nothing unsaid, I might have gained an
acquittal. Not so; the deficiency which led to my conviction was not of
words -- certainly not. But I had not the boldness or impudence or
inclination to address you as you would have liked me to address you,
weeping and wailing and lamenting, and saying and doing many things
which you have been accustomed to hear from others, and which, as I say,
are unworthy of me. But I thought that I ought not to do anything common
or mean in the hour of danger: nor do I now repent of the manner of my
defence, and I would rather die having spoken after my manner, than
speak in your manner and live. For neither in war nor yet at law ought
any man to use every way of escaping death. For often in battle there is
no doubt that if a man will throw away his arms, and fall on his knees
before his pursuers, he may escape death; and in other dangers there are
other ways of escaping death, if a man is willing to say and do
anything. The difficulty, my friends, is not in avoiding death, but in
avoiding unrighteousness; for that runs faster than death. I am old and
move slowly, and the slower runner has overtaken me, and my accusers are
keen and quick, and the faster runner, who is unrighteousness, has
overtaken them. And now I depart hence condemned by you to suffer the
penalty of death, and they, too, go their ways condemned by the truth to
suffer the penalty of villainy and wrong; and I must abide by my award
-- let them abide by theirs. I suppose that these things may be regarded
as fated, -- and I think that they are well.
And now, O men who have condemned me, I would fain prophesy to you; for
I am about to die, and that is the hour in which men are gifted with
prophetic power. And I prophesy to you who are my murderers, that
immediately after my death punishment far heavier than you have
inflicted on me will surely await you. Me you have killed because you
wanted to escape the accuser, and not to give an account of your lives.
But that will not be as you suppose: far otherwise. For I say that there
will be more accusers of you than there are now; accusers whom hitherto
I have restrained: and as they are younger they will be more severe with
you, and you will be more offended at them. For if you think that by
killing men you can avoid the accuser censuring your lives, you are
mistaken; that is not a way of escape which is either possible or
honorable; the easiest and noblest way is not to be crushing others, but
to be improving yourselves. This is the prophecy which I utter before my
departure, to the judges who have condemned me.
Friends, who would have acquitted me, I would like also to talk with you
about this thing which has happened, while the magistrates are busy, and
before I go to the place at which I must die. Stay then awhile, for we
may as well talk with one another while there is time. You are my
friends, and I should like to show you the meaning of this event which
has happened to me. O my judges -- for you I may truly call judges -- I
should like to tell you of a wonderful circumstance. Hitherto the
familiar oracle within me has constantly been in the habit of opposing
me even about trifles, if I was going to make a slip or error about
anything; and now as you see there has come upon me that which may be
thought, and is generally believed to be, the last and worst evil. But
the oracle made no sign of opposition, either as I was leaving my house
and going out in the morning, or when I was going up into this court, or
while I was speaking, at anything which I was going to say; and yet I
have often been stopped in the middle of a speech; but now in nothing I
either said or did touching this matter has the oracle opposed me. What
do I take to be the explanation of this? I will tell you. I regard this
as a proof that what has happened to me is a good, and that those of us
who think that death is an evil are in error. This is a great proof to
me of what I am saying, for the customary sign would surely have opposed
me had I been going to evil and not to good.
Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that there is great
reason to hope that death is a good, for one of two things: -- either
death is a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or, as men
say, there is a change and migration of the soul from this world to
another. Now if you suppose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep
like the sleep of him who is undisturbed even by the sight of dreams,
death will be an unspeakable gain. For if a person were to select the
night in which his sleep was undisturbed even by dreams, and were to
compare with this the other days and nights of his life, and then were
to tell us how many days and nights he had passed in the course of his
life better and more pleasantly than this one, I think that any man, I
will not say a private man, but even the great king, will not find many
such days or nights, when compared with the others. Now if death is like
this, I say that to die is gain; for eternity is then only a single
night. But if death is the journey to another place, and there, as men
say, all the dead are, what good, O my friends and judges, can be
greater than this? If indeed when the pilgrim arrives in the world
below, he is delivered from the professors of justice in this world, and
finds the true judges who are said to give judgment there, Minos and
Rhadamanthus and Aeacus and Triptolemus, and other sons of God who were
righteous in their own life, that pilgrimage will be worth making. What
would not a man give if he might converse with Orpheus and Musaeus and
Hesiod and Homer? Nay, if this be true, let me die again and again. I,
too, shall have a wonderful interest in a place where I can converse
with Palamedes, and Ajax the son of Telamon, and other heroes of old,
who have suffered death through an unjust judgment; and there will be no
small pleasure, as I think, in comparing my own sufferings with theirs.
Above all, I shall be able to continue my search into true and false
knowledge; as in this world, so also in that; I shall find out who is
wise, and who pretends to be wise, and is not. What would not a man
give, O judges, to be able to examine the leader of the great Trojan
expedition; or Odysseus or Sisyphus, or numberless others, men and women
too! What infinite delight would there be in conversing with them and
asking them questions! For in that world they do not put a man to death
for this; certainly not. For besides being happier in that world than in
this, they will be immortal, if what is said is true.
Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer about death, and know this of a
truth -- that no evil can happen to a good man, either in life or after
death. He and his are not neglected by the gods; nor has my own
approaching end happened by mere chance. But I see clearly that to die
and be released was better for me; and therefore the oracle gave no
sign. For which reason also, I am not angry with my accusers, or my
condemners; they have done me no harm, although neither of them meant to
do me any good; and for this I may gently blame them.
Still I have a favor to ask of them. When my sons are grown up, I would
ask you, O my friends, to punish them; and I would have you trouble
them, as I have troubled you, if they seem to care about riches, or
anything, more than about virtue; or if they pretend to be something
when they are really nothing, -- then reprove them, as I have reproved
you, for not caring about that for which they ought to care, and
thinking that they are something when they are really nothing. And if
you do this, I and my sons will have received justice at your hands.
The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways -- I to die, and
you to live. Which is better God only knows.
-
EUTHYPHRO
by
Plato
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Socrates, Euthyphro.
SCENE: The Porch of the King Archon.
EUTHYPHRO: Why have you left the Lyceum, Socrates? and what are you doing
in the Porch of the King Archon? Surely you cannot be concerned in a suit
before the King, like myself?
SOCRATES: Not in a suit, Euthyphro; impeachment is the word which the
Athenians use.
EUTHYPHRO: What! I suppose that some one has been prosecuting you, for I
cannot believe that you are the prosecutor of another.
SOCRATES: Certainly not.
EUTHYPHRO: Then some one else has been prosecuting you?
SOCRATES: Yes.
EUTHYPHRO: And who is he?
SOCRATES: A young man who is little known, Euthyphro; and I hardly know
him: his name is Meletus, and he is of the deme of Pitthis. Perhaps you
may remember his appearance; he has a beak, and long straight hair, and a
beard which is ill grown.
EUTHYPHRO: No, I do not remember him, Socrates. But what is the charge
which he brings against you?
SOCRATES: What is the charge? Well, a very serious charge, which shows a
good deal of character in the young man, and for which he is certainly not
to be despised. He says he knows how the youth are corrupted and who are
their corruptors. I fancy that he must be a wise man, and seeing that I am
the reverse of a wise man, he has found me out, and is going to accuse me
of corrupting his young friends. And of this our mother the state is to be
the judge. Of all our political men he is the only one who seems to me to
begin in the right way, with the cultivation of virtue in youth; like a
good husbandman, he makes the young shoots his first care, and clears away
us who are the destroyers of them. This is only the first step; he will
afterwards attend to the elder branches; and if he goes on as he has begun,
he will be a very great public benefactor.
EUTHYPHRO: I hope that he may; but I rather fear, Socrates, that the
opposite will turn out to be the truth. My opinion is that in attacking
you he is simply aiming a blow at the foundation of the state. But in what
way does he say that you corrupt the young?
SOCRATES: He brings a wonderful accusation against me, which at first
hearing excites surprise: he says that I am a poet or maker of gods, and
that I invent new gods and deny the existence of old ones; this is the
ground of his indictment.
EUTHYPHRO: I understand, Socrates; he means to attack you about the
familiar sign which occasionally, as you say, comes to you. He thinks that
you are a neologian, and he is going to have you up before the court for
this. He knows that such a charge is readily received by the world, as I
myself know too well; for when I speak in the assembly about divine things,
and foretell the future to them, they laugh at me and think me a madman.
Yet every word that I say is true. But they are jealous of us all; and we
must be brave and go at them.
SOCRATES: Their laughter, friend Euthyphro, is not a matter of much
consequence. For a man may be thought wise; but the Athenians, I suspect,
do not much trouble themselves about him until he begins to impart his
wisdom to others, and then for some reason or other, perhaps, as you say,
from jealousy, they are angry.
EUTHYPHRO: I am never likely to try their temper in this way.
SOCRATES: I dare say not, for you are reserved in your behaviour, and
seldom impart your wisdom. But I have a benevolent habit of pouring out
myself to everybody, and would even pay for a listener, and I am afraid
that the Athenians may think me too talkative. Now if, as I was saying,
they would only laugh at me, as you say that they laugh at you, the time
might pass gaily enough in the court; but perhaps they may be in earnest,
and then what the end will be you soothsayers only can predict.
EUTHYPHRO: I dare say that the affair will end in nothing, Socrates, and
that you will win your cause; and I think that I shall win my own.
SOCRATES: And what is your suit, Euthyphro? are you the pursuer or the
defendant?
EUTHYPHRO: I am the pursuer.
SOCRATES: Of whom?
EUTHYPHRO: You will think me mad when I tell you.
SOCRATES: Why, has the fugitive wings?
EUTHYPHRO: Nay, he is not very volatile at his time of life.
SOCRATES: Who is he?
EUTHYPHRO: My father.
SOCRATES: Your father! my good man?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And of what is he accused?
EUTHYPHRO: Of murder, Socrates.
SOCRATES: By the powers, Euthyphro! how little does the common herd know
of the nature of right and truth. A man must be an extraordinary man, and
have made great strides in wisdom, before he could have seen his way to
bring such an action.
EUTHYPHRO: Indeed, Socrates, he must.
SOCRATES: I suppose that the man whom your father murdered was one of your
relatives--clearly he was; for if he had been a stranger you would never
have thought of prosecuting him.
EUTHYPHRO: I am amused, Socrates, at your making a distinction between one
who is a relation and one who is not a relation; for surely the pollution
is the same in either case, if you knowingly associate with the murderer
when you ought to clear yourself and him by proceeding against him. The
real question is whether the murdered man has been justly slain. If
justly, then your duty is to let the matter alone; but if unjustly, then
even if the murderer lives under the same roof with you and eats at the
same table, proceed against him. Now the man who is dead was a poor
dependant of mine who worked for us as a field labourer on our farm in
Naxos, and one day in a fit of drunken passion he got into a quarrel with
one of our domestic servants and slew him. My father bound him hand and
foot and threw him into a ditch, and then sent to Athens to ask of a
diviner what he should do with him. Meanwhile he never attended to him and
took no care about him, for he regarded him as a murderer; and thought that
no great harm would be done even if he did die. Now this was just what
happened. For such was the effect of cold and hunger and chains upon him,
that before the messenger returned from the diviner, he was dead. And my
father and family are angry with me for taking the part of the murderer and
prosecuting my father. They say that he did not kill him, and that if he
did, the dead man was but a murderer, and I ought not to take any notice,
for that a son is impious who prosecutes a father. Which shows, Socrates,
how little they know what the gods think about piety and impiety.
SOCRATES: Good heavens, Euthyphro! and is your knowledge of religion and
of things pious and impious so very exact, that, supposing the
circumstances to be as you state them, you are not afraid lest you too may
be doing an impious thing in bringing an action against your father?
EUTHYPHRO: The best of Euthyphro, and that which distinguishes him,
Socrates, from other men, is his exact knowledge of all such matters. What
should I be good for without it?
SOCRATES: Rare friend! I think that I cannot do better than be your
disciple. Then before the trial with Meletus comes on I shall challenge
him, and say that I have always had a great interest in religious
questions, and now, as he charges me with rash imaginations and innovations
in religion, I have become your disciple. You, Meletus, as I shall say to
him, acknowledge Euthyphro to be a great theologian, and sound in his
opinions; and if you approve of him you ought to approve of me, and not
have me into court; but if you disapprove, you should begin by indicting
him who is my teacher, and who will be the ruin, not of the young, but of
the old; that is to say, of myself whom he instructs, and of his old father
whom he admonishes and chastises. And if Meletus refuses to listen to me,
but will go on, and will not shift the indictment from me to you, I cannot
do better than repeat this challenge in the court.
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, indeed, Socrates; and if he attempts to indict me I am
mistaken if I do not find a flaw in him; the court shall have a great deal
more to say to him than to me.
SOCRATES: And I, my dear friend, knowing this, am desirous of becoming
your disciple. For I observe that no one appears to notice you--not even
this Meletus; but his sharp eyes have found me out at once, and he has
indicted me for impiety. And therefore, I adjure you to tell me the nature
of piety and impiety, which you said that you knew so well, and of murder,
and of other offences against the gods. What are they? Is not piety in
every action always the same? and impiety, again--is it not always the
opposite of piety, and also the same with itself, having, as impiety, one
notion which includes whatever is impious?
EUTHYPHRO: To be sure, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And what is piety, and what is impiety?
EUTHYPHRO: Piety is doing as I am doing; that is to say, prosecuting any
one who is guilty of murder, sacrilege, or of any similar crime--whether he
be your father or mother, or whoever he may be--that makes no difference;
and not to prosecute them is impiety. And please to consider, Socrates,
what a notable proof I will give you of the truth of my words, a proof
which I have already given to others:--of the principle, I mean, that the
impious, whoever he may be, ought not to go unpunished. For do not men
regard Zeus as the best and most righteous of the gods?--and yet they admit
that he bound his father (Cronos) because he wickedly devoured his sons,
and that he too had punished his own father (Uranus) for a similar reason,
in a nameless manner. And yet when I proceed against my father, they are
angry with me. So inconsistent are they in their way of talking when the
gods are concerned, and when I am concerned.
SOCRATES: May not this be the reason, Euthyphro, why I am charged with
impiety--that I cannot away with these stories about the gods? and
therefore I suppose that people think me wrong. But, as you who are
well informed about them approve of them, I cannot do better than
assent to your superior wisdom. What else can I say, confessing as I
do, that I know nothing about them? Tell me, for the love of Zeus,
whether you really believe that they are true.
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, Socrates; and things more wonderful still, of which the
world is in ignorance.
SOCRATES: And do you really believe that the gods fought with one
another, and had dire quarrels, battles, and the like, as the poets
say, and as you may see represented in the works of great artists? The
temples are full of them; and notably the robe of Athene, which is
carried up to the Acropolis at the great Panathenaea, is embroidered
with them. Are all these tales of the gods true, Euthyphro?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, Socrates; and, as I was saying, I can tell you, if you
would like to hear them, many other things about the gods which
would quite amaze you.
SOCRATES: I dare say; and you shall tell me them at some other time when I
have leisure. But just at present I would rather hear from you a more
precise answer, which you have not as yet given, my friend, to the
question, What is 'piety'? When asked, you only replied, Doing as you do,
charging your father with murder.
EUTHYPHRO: And what I said was true, Socrates.
SOCRATES: No doubt, Euthyphro; but you would admit that there are many
other pious acts?
EUTHYPHRO: There are.
SOCRATES: Remember that I did not ask you to give me two or three examples
of piety, but to explain the general idea which makes all pious things to
be pious. Do you not recollect that there was one idea which made the
impious impious, and the pious pious?
EUTHYPHRO: I remember.
SOCRATES: Tell me what is the nature of this idea, and then I shall have a
standard to which I may look, and by which I may measure actions, whether
yours or those of any one else, and then I shall be able to say that such
and such an action is pious, such another impious.
EUTHYPHRO: I will tell you, if you like.
SOCRATES: I should very much like.
EUTHYPHRO: Piety, then, is that which is dear to the gods, and impiety is
that which is not dear to them.
SOCRATES: Very good, Euthyphro; you have now given me the sort of answer
which I wanted. But whether what you say is true or not I cannot as yet
tell, although I make no doubt that you will prove the truth of your words.
EUTHYPHRO: Of course.
SOCRATES: Come, then, and let us examine what we are saying. That thing
or person which is dear to the gods is pious, and that thing or person
which is hateful to the gods is impious, these two being the extreme
opposites of one another. Was not that said?
EUTHYPHRO: It was.
SOCRATES: And well said?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, Socrates, I thought so; it was certainly said.
SOCRATES: And further, Euthyphro, the gods were admitted to have enmities
and hatreds and differences?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, that was also said.
SOCRATES: And what sort of difference creates enmity and anger? Suppose
for example that you and I, my good friend, differ about a number; do
differences of this sort make us enemies and set us at variance with one
another? Do we not go at once to arithmetic, and put an end to them by a
sum?
EUTHYPHRO: True.
SOCRATES: Or suppose that we differ about magnitudes, do we not quickly
end the differences by measuring?
EUTHYPHRO: Very true.
SOCRATES: And we end a controversy about heavy and light by resorting to a
weighing machine?
EUTHYPHRO: To be sure.
SOCRATES: But what differences are there which cannot be thus decided, and
which therefore make us angry and set us at enmity with one another? I
dare say the answer does not occur to you at the moment, and therefore I
will suggest that these enmities arise when the matters of difference are
the just and unjust, good and evil, honourable and dishonourable. Are not
these the points about which men differ, and about which when we are unable
satisfactorily to decide our differences, you and I and all of us quarrel,
when we do quarrel? (Compare Alcib.)
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, Socrates, the nature of the differences about which we
quarrel is such as you describe.
SOCRATES: And the quarrels of the gods, noble Euthyphro, when they occur,
are of a like nature?
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly they are.
SOCRATES: They have differences of opinion, as you say, about good and
evil, just and unjust, honourable and dishonourable: there would have been
no quarrels among them, if there had been no such differences--would there
now?
EUTHYPHRO: You are quite right.
SOCRATES: Does not every man love that which he deems noble and just and
good, and hate the opposite of them?
EUTHYPHRO: Very true.
SOCRATES: But, as you say, people regard the same things, some as just and
others as unjust,--about these they dispute; and so there arise wars and
fightings among them.
EUTHYPHRO: Very true.
SOCRATES: Then the same things are hated by the gods and loved by the
gods, and are both hateful and dear to them?
EUTHYPHRO: True.
SOCRATES: And upon this view the same things, Euthyphro, will be pious and
also impious?
EUTHYPHRO: So I should suppose.
SOCRATES: Then, my friend, I remark with surprise that you have not
answered the question which I asked. For I certainly did not ask you to
tell me what action is both pious and impious: but now it would seem that
what is loved by the gods is also hated by them. And therefore, Euthyphro,
in thus chastising your father you may very likely be doing what is
agreeable to Zeus but disagreeable to Cronos or Uranus, and what is
acceptable to Hephaestus but unacceptable to Here, and there may be other
gods who have similar differences of opinion.
EUTHYPHRO: But I believe, Socrates, that all the gods would be agreed as
to the propriety of punishing a murderer: there would be no difference of
opinion about that.
SOCRATES: Well, but speaking of men, Euthyphro, did you ever hear any one
arguing that a murderer or any sort of evil-doer ought to be let off?
EUTHYPHRO: I should rather say that these are the questions which they are
always arguing, especially in courts of law: they commit all sorts of
crimes, and there is nothing which they will not do or say in their own
defence.
SOCRATES: But do they admit their guilt, Euthyphro, and yet say that they
ought not to be punished?
EUTHYPHRO: No; they do not.
SOCRATES: Then there are some things which they do not venture to say and
do: for they do not venture to argue that the guilty are to be unpunished,
but they deny their guilt, do they not?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then they do not argue that the evil-doer should not be
punished, but they argue about the fact of who the evil-doer is, and what
he did and when?
EUTHYPHRO: True.
SOCRATES: And the gods are in the same case, if as you assert they quarrel
about just and unjust, and some of them say while others deny that
injustice is done among them. For surely neither God nor man will ever
venture to say that the doer of injustice is not to be punished?
EUTHYPHRO: That is true, Socrates, in the main.
SOCRATES: But they join issue about the particulars--gods and men alike;
and, if they dispute at all, they dispute about some act which is called in
question, and which by some is affirmed to be just, by others to be unjust.
Is not that true?
EUTHYPHRO: Quite true.
SOCRATES: Well then, my dear friend Euthyphro, do tell me, for my better
instruction and information, what proof have you that in the opinion of all
the gods a servant who is guilty of murder, and is put in chains by the
master of the dead man, and dies because he is put in chains before he who
bound him can learn from the interpreters of the gods what he ought to do
with him, dies unjustly; and that on behalf of such an one a son ought to
proceed against his father and accuse him of murder. How would you show
that all the gods absolutely agree in approving of his act? Prove to me
that they do, and I will applaud your wisdom as long as I live.
EUTHYPHRO: It will be a difficult task; but I could make the matter very
clear indeed to you.
SOCRATES: I understand; you mean to say that I am not so quick of
apprehension as the judges: for to them you will be sure to prove that the
act is unjust, and hateful to the gods.
EUTHYPHRO: Yes indeed, Socrates; at least if they will listen to me.
SOCRATES: But they will be sure to listen if they find that you are a good
speaker. There was a notion that came into my mind while you were
speaking; I said to myself: 'Well, and what if Euthyphro does prove to me
that all the gods regarded the death of the serf as unjust, how do I know
anything more of the nature of piety and impiety? for granting that this
action may be hateful to the gods, still piety and impiety are not
adequately defined by these distinctions, for that which is hateful to the
gods has been shown to be also pleasing and dear to them.' And therefore,
Euthyphro, I do not ask you to prove this; I will suppose, if you like,
that all the gods condemn and abominate such an action. But I will amend
the definition so far as to say that what all the gods hate is impious, and
what they love pious or holy; and what some of them love and others hate is
both or neither. Shall this be our definition of piety and impiety?
EUTHYPHRO: Why not, Socrates?
SOCRATES: Why not! certainly, as far as I am concerned, Euthyphro, there
is no reason why not. But whether this admission will greatly assist you
in the task of instructing me as you promised, is a matter for you to
consider.
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, I should say that what all the gods love is pious and
holy, and the opposite which they all hate, impious.
SOCRATES: Ought we to enquire into the truth of this, Euthyphro, or simply
to accept the mere statement on our own authority and that of others? What
do you say?
EUTHYPHRO: We should enquire; and I believe that the statement will stand
the test of enquiry.
SOCRATES: We shall know better, my good friend, in a little while. The
point which I should first wish to understand is whether the pious or holy
is beloved by the gods because it is holy, or holy because it is beloved of
the gods.
EUTHYPHRO: I do not understand your meaning, Socrates.
SOCRATES: I will endeavour to explain: we, speak of carrying and we speak
of being carried, of leading and being led, seeing and being seen. You
know that in all such cases there is a difference, and you know also in
what the difference lies?
EUTHYPHRO: I think that I understand.
SOCRATES: And is not that which is beloved distinct from that which loves?
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Well; and now tell me, is that which is carried in this state of
carrying because it is carried, or for some other reason?
EUTHYPHRO: No; that is the reason.
SOCRATES: And the same is true of what is led and of what is seen?
EUTHYPHRO: True.
SOCRATES: And a thing is not seen because it is visible, but conversely,
visible because it is seen; nor is a thing led because it is in the state
of being led, or carried because it is in the state of being carried, but
the converse of this. And now I think, Euthyphro, that my meaning will be
intelligible; and my meaning is, that any state of action or passion
implies previous action or passion. It does not become because it is
becoming, but it is in a state of becoming because it becomes; neither does
it suffer because it is in a state of suffering, but it is in a state of
suffering because it suffers. Do you not agree?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Is not that which is loved in some state either of becoming or
suffering?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And the same holds as in the previous instances; the state of
being loved follows the act of being loved, and not the act the state.
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And what do you say of piety, Euthyphro: is not piety,
according to your definition, loved by all the gods?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Because it is pious or holy, or for some other reason?
EUTHYPHRO: No, that is the reason.
SOCRATES: It is loved because it is holy, not holy because it is loved?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And that which is dear to the gods is loved by them, and is in a
state to be loved of them because it is loved of them?
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Then that which is dear to the gods, Euthyphro, is not holy, nor
is that which is holy loved of God, as you affirm; but they are two
different things.
EUTHYPHRO: How do you mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: I mean to say that the holy has been acknowledged by us to be
loved of God because it is holy, not to be holy because it is loved.
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: But that which is dear to the gods is dear to them because it is
loved by them, not loved by them because it is dear to them.
EUTHYPHRO: True.
SOCRATES: But, friend Euthyphro, if that which is holy is the same with
that which is dear to God, and is loved because it is holy, then that which
is dear to God would have been loved as being dear to God; but if that
which is dear to God is dear to him because loved by him, then that which
is holy would have been holy because loved by him. But now you see that
the reverse is the case, and that they are quite different from one
another. For one (theophiles) is of a kind to be loved cause it is loved,
and the other (osion) is loved because it is of a kind to be loved. Thus
you appear to me, Euthyphro, when I ask you what is the essence of
holiness, to offer an attribute only, and not the essence--the attribute of
being loved by all the gods. But you still refuse to explain to me the
nature of holiness. And therefore, if you please, I will ask you not to
hide your treasure, but to tell me once more what holiness or piety really
is, whether dear to the gods or not (for that is a matter about which we
will not quarrel); and what is impiety?
EUTHYPHRO: I really do not know, Socrates, how to express what I mean.
For somehow or other our arguments, on whatever ground we rest them, seem
to turn round and walk away from us.
SOCRATES: Your words, Euthyphro, are like the handiwork of my ancestor
Daedalus; and if I were the sayer or propounder of them, you might say that
my arguments walk away and will not remain fixed where they are placed
because I am a descendant of his. But now, since these notions are your
own, you must find some other gibe, for they certainly, as you yourself
allow, show an inclination to be on the move.
EUTHYPHRO: Nay, Socrates, I shall still say that you are the Daedalus who
sets arguments in motion; not I, certainly, but you make them move or go
round, for they would never have stirred, as far as I am concerned.
SOCRATES: Then I must be a greater than Daedalus: for whereas he only
made his own inventions to move, I move those of other people as well. And
the beauty of it is, that I would rather not. For I would give the wisdom
of Daedalus, and the wealth of Tantalus, to be able to detain them and keep
them fixed. But enough of this. As I perceive that you are lazy, I will
myself endeavour to show you how you might instruct me in the nature of
piety; and I hope that you will not grudge your labour. Tell me, then--Is
not that which is pious necessarily just?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And is, then, all which is just pious? or, is that which is
pious all just, but that which is just, only in part and not all, pious?
EUTHYPHRO: I do not understand you, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And yet I know that you are as much wiser than I am, as you are
younger. But, as I was saying, revered friend, the abundance of your
wisdom makes you lazy. Please to exert yourself, for there is no real
difficulty in understanding me. What I mean I may explain by an
illustration of what I do not mean. The poet (Stasinus) sings--
'Of Zeus, the author and creator of all these things,
You will not tell: for where there is fear there is also reverence.'
Now I disagree with this poet. Shall I tell you in what respect?
EUTHYPHRO: By all means.
SOCRATES: I should not say that where there is fear there is also
reverence; for I am sure that many persons fear poverty and disease, and
the like evils, but I do not perceive that they reverence the objects of
their fear.
EUTHYPHRO: Very true.
SOCRATES: But where reverence is, there is fear; for he who has a feeling
of reverence and shame about the commission of any action, fears and is
afraid of an ill reputation.
EUTHYPHRO: No doubt.
SOCRATES: Then we are wrong in saying that where there is fear there is
also reverence; and we should say, where there is reverence there is also
fear. But there is not always reverence where there is fear; for fear is a
more extended notion, and reverence is a part of fear, just as the odd is a
part of number, and number is a more extended notion than the odd. I
suppose that you follow me now?
EUTHYPHRO: Quite well.
SOCRATES: That was the sort of question which I meant to raise when I
asked whether the just is always the pious, or the pious always the just;
and whether there may not be justice where there is not piety; for justice
is the more extended notion of which piety is only a part. Do you dissent?
EUTHYPHRO: No, I think that you are quite right.
SOCRATES: Then, if piety is a part of justice, I suppose that we should
enquire what part? If you had pursued the enquiry in the previous cases;
for instance, if you had asked me what is an even number, and what part of
number the even is, I should have had no difficulty in replying, a number
which represents a figure having two equal sides. Do you not agree?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, I quite agree.
SOCRATES: In like manner, I want you to tell me what part of justice is
piety or holiness, that I may be able to tell Meletus not to do me
injustice, or indict me for impiety, as I am now adequately instructed by
you in the nature of piety or holiness, and their opposites.
EUTHYPHRO: Piety or holiness, Socrates, appears to me to be that part of
justice which attends to the gods, as there is the other part of justice
which attends to men.
SOCRATES: That is good, Euthyphro; yet still there is a little point about
which I should like to have further information, What is the meaning of
'attention'? For attention can hardly be used in the same sense when
applied to the gods as when applied to other things. For instance, horses
are said to require attention, and not every person is able to attend to
them, but only a person skilled in horsemanship. Is it not so?
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: I should suppose that the art of horsemanship is the art of
attending to horses?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: Nor is every one qualified to attend to dogs, but only the
huntsman?
EUTHYPHRO: True.
SOCRATES: And I should also conceive that the art of the huntsman is the
art of attending to dogs?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: As the art of the oxherd is the art of attending to oxen?
EUTHYPHRO: Very true.
SOCRATES: In like manner holiness or piety is the art of attending to the
gods?--that would be your meaning, Euthyphro?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And is not attention always designed for the good or benefit of
that to which the attention is given? As in the case of horses, you may
observe that when attended to by the horseman's art they are benefited and
improved, are they not?
EUTHYPHRO: True.
SOCRATES: As the dogs are benefited by the huntsman's art, and the oxen by
the art of the oxherd, and all other things are tended or attended for
their good and not for their hurt?
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly, not for their hurt.
SOCRATES: But for their good?
EUTHYPHRO: Of course.
SOCRATES: And does piety or holiness, which has been defined to be the art
of attending to the gods, benefit or improve them? Would you say that when
you do a holy act you make any of the gods better?
EUTHYPHRO: No, no; that was certainly not what I meant.
SOCRATES: And I, Euthyphro, never supposed that you did. I asked you the
question about the nature of the attention, because I thought that you did
not.
EUTHYPHRO: You do me justice, Socrates; that is not the sort of attention
which I mean.
SOCRATES: Good: but I must still ask what is this attention to the gods
which is called piety?
EUTHYPHRO: It is such, Socrates, as servants show to their masters.
SOCRATES: I understand--a sort of ministration to the gods.
EUTHYPHRO: Exactly.
SOCRATES: Medicine is also a sort of ministration or service, having in
view the attainment of some object--would you not say of health?
EUTHYPHRO: I should.
SOCRATES: Again, there is an art which ministers to the ship-builder with
a view to the attainment of some result?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, Socrates, with a view to the building of a ship.
SOCRATES: As there is an art which ministers to the house-builder with a
view to the building of a house?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes.
SOCRATES: And now tell me, my good friend, about the art which ministers
to the gods: what work does that help to accomplish? For you must surely
know if, as you say, you are of all men living the one who is best
instructed in religion.
EUTHYPHRO: And I speak the truth, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Tell me then, oh tell me--what is that fair work which the gods
do by the help of our ministrations?
EUTHYPHRO: Many and fair, Socrates, are the works which they do.
SOCRATES: Why, my friend, and so are those of a general. But the chief of
them is easily told. Would you not say that victory in war is the chief of
them?
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Many and fair, too, are the works of the husbandman, if I am not
mistaken; but his chief work is the production of food from the earth?
EUTHYPHRO: Exactly.
SOCRATES: And of the many and fair things done by the gods, which is the
chief or principal one?
EUTHYPHRO: I have told you already, Socrates, that to learn all these
things accurately will be very tiresome. Let me simply say that piety or
holiness is learning how to please the gods in word and deed, by prayers
and sacrifices. Such piety is the salvation of families and states, just
as the impious, which is unpleasing to the gods, is their ruin and
destruction.
SOCRATES: I think that you could have answered in much fewer words the
chief question which I asked, Euthyphro, if you had chosen. But I see
plainly that you are not disposed to instruct me--clearly not: else why,
when we reached the point, did you turn aside? Had you only answered me I
should have truly learned of you by this time the nature of piety. Now, as
the asker of a question is necessarily dependent on the answerer, whither
he leads I must follow; and can only ask again, what is the pious, and what
is piety? Do you mean that they are a sort of science of praying and
sacrificing?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, I do.
SOCRATES: And sacrificing is giving to the gods, and prayer is asking of
the gods?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Upon this view, then, piety is a science of asking and giving?
EUTHYPHRO: You understand me capitally, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Yes, my friend; the reason is that I am a votary of your
science, and give my mind to it, and therefore nothing which you say will
be thrown away upon me. Please then to tell me, what is the nature of this
service to the gods? Do you mean that we prefer requests and give gifts to
them?
EUTHYPHRO: Yes, I do.
SOCRATES: Is not the right way of asking to ask of them what we want?
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And the right way of giving is to give to them in return what
they want of us. There would be no meaning in an art which gives to any
one that which he does not want.
EUTHYPHRO: Very true, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then piety, Euthyphro, is an art which gods and men have of
doing business with one another?
EUTHYPHRO: That is an expression which you may use, if you like.
SOCRATES: But I have no particular liking for anything but the truth. I
wish, however, that you would tell me what benefit accrues to the gods from
our gifts. There is no doubt about what they give to us; for there is no
good thing which they do not give; but how we can give any good thing to
them in return is far from being equally clear. If they give everything
and we give nothing, that must be an affair of business in which we have
very greatly the advantage of them.
EUTHYPHRO: And do you imagine, Socrates, that any benefit accrues to the
gods from our gifts?
SOCRATES: But if not, Euthyphro, what is the meaning of gifts which are
conferred by us upon the gods?
EUTHYPHRO: What else, but tributes of honour; and, as I was just now
saying, what pleases them?
SOCRATES: Piety, then, is pleasing to the gods, but not beneficial or dear
to them?
EUTHYPHRO: I should say that nothing could be dearer.
SOCRATES: Then once more the assertion is repeated that piety is dear to
the gods?
EUTHYPHRO: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And when you say this, can you wonder at your words not standing
firm, but walking away? Will you accuse me of being the Daedalus who makes
them walk away, not perceiving that there is another and far greater artist
than Daedalus who makes them go round in a circle, and he is yourself; for
the argument, as you will perceive, comes round to the same point. Were we
not saying that the holy or pious was not the same with that which is loved
of the gods? Have you forgotten?
EUTHYPHRO: I quite remember.
SOCRATES: And are you not saying that what is loved of the gods is holy;
and is not this the same as what is dear to them--do you see?
EUTHYPHRO: True.
SOCRATES: Then either we were wrong in our former assertion; or, if we
were right then, we are wrong now.
EUTHYPHRO: One of the two must be true.
SOCRATES: Then we must begin again and ask, What is piety? That is an
enquiry which I shall never be weary of pursuing as far as in me lies; and
I entreat you not to scorn me, but to apply your mind to the utmost, and
tell me the truth. For, if any man knows, you are he; and therefore I must
detain you, like Proteus, until you tell. If you had not certainly known
the nature of piety and impiety, I am confident that you would never, on
behalf of a serf, have charged your aged father with murder. You would not
have run such a risk of doing wrong in the sight of the gods, and you would
have had too much respect for the opinions of men. I am sure, therefore,
that you know the nature of piety and impiety. Speak out then, my dear
Euthyphro, and do not hide your knowledge.
EUTHYPHRO: Another time, Socrates; for I am in a hurry, and must go now.
SOCRATES: Alas! my companion, and will you leave me in despair? I was
hoping that you would instruct me in the nature of piety and impiety; and
then I might have cleared myself of Meletus and his indictment. I would
have told him that I had been enlightened by Euthyphro, and had given up
rash innovations and speculations, in which I indulged only through
ignorance, and that now I am about to lead a better life.
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Nomads
I am curious as to the methods and arguments you employ and apply as you debate and/or argue with athiest and agnostics.
What arguments do you propound? How do you rebuke their false-claims?
Many individuals are athiests because their logic is faulty; thus, oftentimes as you show them the illness of their thoughts they are willing to concede.
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Abu Hanifah was a muslim scholar and jurist not a Mutakalim or theologian. Hence, the arguments advanced by the reputable scholar has some holes. There are far more effective and efficient arguments theists can advance.
Arguments are a part of a debate as are Nouns a part of Speech. Therefore, one can argue should such is desired. It is the purpose of the argument that must needs a thorough scrunity.
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The dreaded Final Exams are fast approaching; I just shrivel at the thought of an exam notwithstanding my preparation. By the way, I do not believe in luck but good luck on all your Exams if you do.
With Salaams
PK
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I am not one to raise trivial and frivolous objections to every comment posted by forum members. However, this is something I have to adress. You need not wish Sophist "good luck" on his exams. Reading some of his posts I can say with conviction that he believes in luck not; nor should any Muslim believe in such things. Luck, chance, accident are all words devoid of meaning.
Sophist:- May He crown with success your exams and all your deeds.
With Salaams
PK
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double post
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Originally posted by postman:I have studied philosophy at undergraduate level, but I do not feel the need to proof myself to everyone. Surely, the concept that all events and objects that we encounter in real life come into existence as visions and feelings in our brains or that live can exist without the existance of concrete physical world is not a philosophical speculation. I think it is one fitting for a neurologist rather than a philosopher.Is that the instruction you received during your undergraduate studies, viz. that Reality is a question befitting a Neurologist? Adeer you need to demand a refund immediately. As the 20th century Australian-British philosopher,Karl Popper, once said, "in so far as a scientific statement speaks about reality, it must be falsifiable; and in so far as it is falsifiable, it does not speak about reality."
J11/Cali: Why do you harbour a personal animus towards all western philosophers? Are all their postulates and theories "faulty". By the way, I am still awaiting your response to my first post.
Sophist:- Am I a Mu'tazili? No. What are the holes you see in the argument? By the way, I have perused your Being and Nothingness story and so if time permits I will prepare an unfavourable response.
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Originally posted by J11:Sxb my thoughts have nothing to do with philosophy. But since you are so inclined to retreat to philosophy to answer or understand things as simple as this topic, I shall allow you to call it philosophy. I just don't see the fascination with another man's thoughts to figure out what your thoughts are. Could you not think individually? Or does it mean you can't unless you employ the jargons of philosophy?At the risk of flogging a dead horse, this will be my last comment on this subject. Anyone with a rudimentary and basic understanding of Philosophy will tell you that the question of Reality is purely and exclusively a metaphysical question. You may not like the fact that it is philosophy but it is just that-philosophy. Still I am confounded as to the reason you think that it is but Philosophy. If it is not Philosophy, I beg of you , what is it? You can call it "amateur speculation" but it is still a philosophical one.
If I was not fascinated with the thoughts of the philosopers I would have ,God forbid, espoused so ill a concept as to believe that Dreams are more real than life
Anyhow, I would advise you to do your concept justice; in other words, in your future meditations make sure your argument or idea, as it were, does not succumb to the dialectics of philosophers. Perhaps if you answer my primary questions I will bring on my second onslaught This is a philosophical question so I do not see it apt to refer to revealed religon. Read my breif methodological introduction.
Salafi:- If you are uncomfortable with philosophy, as are most dogmatists, I would advise you to ignore posts of this nature. Unless ofcourse you believe your faith can withstand rigorous intellectual inquiry.
This Forum has members exceeding 4000; are not there any who have studied philosophy at undergraduate or graduate levels?
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A Methodological Introduction
We must keep in mind that, in the context of religion, there are two kinds of proofs that can be advanced (in this case, for our beliefs), proofs that i will call "narrational" and "rational", or naqlee and 'aqlee. Narrational proofs are simply things we consider as true on the basis that we have a confirmed authentic narration from a divine authority in religion telling us it is so. This does not mean that rules of logic or principles of philosophy are not used here, but only that religious texts will be present as premises, as arguments. Examples of narrational demonstrations and proofs are the details of accomplishing the pilgrimage, or the way prayer should be done, with how many rak'at, or some particular details of things awaiting us after death... Rational proofs, on the other hand, are those that can be called philosophical demonstrations. They do not use religious texts as premises for their conclusion. This does not mean that the truths lying in the religious texts are not the aim, but they are not mentioned, otherwise it would not be a philosophical, or purely rational, demonstration. Examples of these can be the classic demonstrations of God's existence (the First mover, the law of causality, contingency of the world, teleological demonstrations, ontological demonstrations..). Of course, we must know what fields demand narrational demonstrations, and which need a rational one. We must also know, minimally at least, if there are any common premises that we and the other party both agree on, so as not to waste too much time on those points, and know how to develop your arguments, and with which premises (in other words, understand the system used by the other as his intellectual/religious reference and source).
Jamaal 11:- Brother I am still awaiting your response to my post. Instead, you have chosen to post an equally incoherent article bloated with flacious arguments, logical inconsistincies and the like. I dare not accuse you of red herring or ad hominimems; so I will await your response. Also, this whole thread is nothing save philosophical enquiry. Perhaps a rudimentary understanding of philosophy would clear this misunderstanding. To answer your question, I did not use the terms ontology and epistimology interchangeably, to do so would cause you great confusion, and that I do not intend. By the way, do you suppose that your meditations are in accordance with Islamic Doctrines ('aqaid)?
Khayr:- Are you familiar with such concepts as Predestination and Qadr? Do not mistake them for what they are not; these words are not synonyms. Some Islamic theologians hold that predestination (especially, the brand the author of this thread stipulated) is contrary to Divine Justice or Al-'adl al-ilaahi. I will not bore you the various arguments advanced by the mu'tazila and asha'iris.
Salafi Online:- 'Ilm al-kalam is one of the Islamic sciences. It discusses the fundamental Islamic beliefs and doctrines which are necessary for a Muslim to believe in. It explains them, argues about them, and defends them. This is a pseudo-'ilm al kalam topic...
That is all for now Brothers and Sisters or shall I say Adeerayaal.
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Everything that occurs so happens for a reason.
Alaa ilaa allaahi turjacu al-umuur
With Salaams
PK
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Dream or Life, which is the true reality?
in General
Posted
J11
Salaams. I hope you are enjoying the best of circumstances in health and faith (faith? Perhaps I should say reason). At any rate, I am still awaiting your response to my post. I am eager to take our discussion to the next plateau should you wish so. However, do not give me false anticipation.
PS
I have given you sufficient time to review all necessary literature.....