both in the one and the other, to ransom it only by prayers, and tears, and all those other abject methods, you see every day practised by people in my present condition."

Apollodorus, who was one of his friends and disciples, having advanced to him to express his grief for his dying innocent: "What," replied he with a smile, "would you have had me die guilty?"

ם

Plutarch, to shew, that only our weakest part, the body, is in the power of man; but that there is another infinitely more noble part of us entirely superior to their threats, and inaccessible to their inflictions, cites these admirable words of Socrates, which are more applicable to his judges than his accusers, "Anytus and Melitus may kill me, but they cannot hurt me." As if he had said, in the language of the pagans; fortune may deprive me of my goods, my health, and my life; but I have a treasure within me, of which no violence can deprive me, I mean virtue, innocence, fortitude, and greatness of mind.

This great man," fully convinced of the principle he had so often inculcated to his disciples, that guilt is the only evil a wise man ought to fear, chose rather to be deprived of some years, which he might have to live, than to forfeit in an instant the glory of his whole past life, in dishonouring himself for ever by the shameful behaviour he was advised to observe with his judges.

De anim. tranquil. p. 475.

■ Maluit vir sapientissimus quod superesset ex vita sibi perire, quam quod præterisset: et quando ab hominibus sui temporis parum intelligebatur, posterorum se judiciis reservavit, brevi detrimento jam ultimæ senectutis ævum seculorum omnium consecutus. Quint. 1. i. c. 1.

Seeing that his own times had but a slight knowledge of him, he referred himself from it to the judgment of posterity, and by the generous sacrifice of a very advanced life, acquired and assured to himself the esteem and admiration of all succeeding ages.

SECTION VII.

CRATES REFUSES TO ESCAPE OUT OF PRISON. HE DRINKS THE POISON.

AFTER the sentence had been passed upon him,* Socrates, with the same intrepid aspect, with which he had held the tyrants in awe, went forward towards the prison, which lost that name, says Seneca, when he entered it, and became the residence of virtue and probity. His friends followed him thither, and continued to visit him during thirty days, which passed between his condemnation and death. The cause of that long delay was, the Athenians sent every year a ship to the isle of Delos, to offer certain sacrifices; and it was prohibited to put any person to death in the city, from the time the priest of Apollo had crowned the poop of this vessel, as a signal of its departure, till the same vessel should return. So that sentence having been passed upon Socrates the day after that ceremony began, it was necessary to defer the execution of it for thirty days, during the continuance of this voyage.

• Socrates eodem illo vultu, quo aliquando solus triginta tyrannos in ordinem redegerat, carcerem intravit, ignominiam ipsi loco detracturus. Neque enim poterat carcer videri, in quo Socrates erat. Senec. in consol ad Helvet. c. xiii.

Socrates carcerem intrando purgavit, omnique honestiorem curia reddidit. Id. de vit. beat. c. xxvii.

In this long interval, death had sufficient opportunity to present itself before his eyes in all its terrors, and to put his constancy to the proof, not only by the severe rigor of a dungeon, and the irons upon his legs, but by the continual prospect and cruel expectation of an event, of which nature is always abhorrent. In this sad condition he did not cease to enjoy that profound tranquillity of mind, which his friends had always admired in him. He entertained them with the same temper he had always expressed, and Crito observes, that the evening before his death, he slept as peaceably as at any other time. He composed also an hymn in honour of Apollo and Diana, and turned one of Esop's fables into verse.

The day before, or the same day that the ship was to arrive from Delos, the return of which was to be followed by the death of Socrates, Crito, his intimate friend, came to him early in the morning, to let him know that bad news, and at the same time, that it depended only upon himself to quit the prison; that the jailer was gained; that he would find the doors open, and offered him a safe retreat in Thessaly. Socrates laughed at this proposal, and asked him, "whether he knew any place out of Attica, where people did not die." Crito urged the thing very seriously, and pressed him to take the advantage of so precious an opportunity, adding arguments upon arguments to induce his consent, and to engage him to resolve upon his escape. Without mentioning the inconsolable grief he should suffer for, the death of such a friend, how should he support the reproaches of an infinity of

P Plat. in Criter

people, who would believe that it was in his power to have saved him, but that he would not sacrifice a small part of his wealth for that purpose? Can the people ever be persuaded that so wise a man as Socrates would not quit his prison, when he might do it with all possible security? Perhaps he might fear to expose his friends, or to occasion the loss of their fortunes, or even of their lives or liberty. Ought there to be any thing more dear and precious to them than the preservation of Socrates? Even strangers themselves dispute that honour with them; many of whom have come expressly with considerable sums of money to purchase his escape; and declare, that they should think themselves highly honoured to receive him amongst them, and to supply him abundantly with all he should have occasion for. Ought he to abandon himself to enemies, who have occasioned his being condemned unjustly, and can he think it allowable to betray his own cause? Is it not essential to his goodness and justice, to spare his fellow citizens the guilt of innocent blood? But if all these motives cannot alter him, and he is not concerned in regard to himself, can he be insensible to the interests of his children? In what a condition does he leave them? And can he forget the father, to remember only the philosopher?

Socrates, after having heard him with attention, praised his zeal, and expressed his gratitude; but before he could give into his opinion, was for examining whether it was just for him to depart out of prison without the consent of the Athenians. The question therefore here is, to know whether a man condemned to die, though unjustly, can without a crime, escape

from justice and the laws. I do not know whether, even amongst us, there are not many persons to be found who believe that this may be made a question.

Socrates begins with removing every thing foreign to the subject, and comes immediately to the bottom of the affair. "I should certainly rejoice extremely, most dear Crito, that you could persuade me to quit this place, but cannot resolve to do so, without being first persuaded. We ought not to be in pain upon what the people say, but for what the sole Judge of all that is just or unjust shall pronounce upon us, and that alone is truth. All the considerations you have alleged, as to money, reputation, family, prove nothing, unless you show me, that what you propose is just and lawful. It is a received and constant principle with us, that all injustice is shameful, and fatal to him who commits it, whatever men may say, or whatever good or evil may be consequential of it. We have always reasoned from this principle even to our latest days, and have never departed in the least from it. Would it be possible, dear Crito, that, at our age, our most serious discourses should resemble those of infants, who say yes and no almost in the same breath, and have nothing of fixed and determinate ?" At each proposition he waited Crito's answer and assent.

"Let us therefore resume our principles, and endeavour to make use of them at this time. It has always been a maxim with us, that it is never allowable, upon any pretence whatsoever, to commit injus tice, not even in regard to those who injure us, nor to return evil for evil, and that when we have once engaged our word, we are bound to keep it inviolably;