[96] Plato, Phædon, p. 118. ἤδη οὖν σχεδόν τι αὐτοῦ ἦν τὰ περὶ τὸ ἦτρον ψυχόμενα, καὶ ἐκκαλυψάμενος (ἐνεκεκάλυπτο γὰρ) εἶπεν, ὃ δὴ τελευταῖον ἐφθέγξατο, Ὦ Κρίτων, ἔφη, τῷ Ἀσκληπιῷ ὀφείλομεν ἀλεκτρύονα· ἀλλ’ ἀπόδοτε καὶ μὴ ἀμελήσητε.
Cicero, after recovering from a bilious attack, writes to his wife Terentia (Epist. Famil. xiv. 7): “Omnes molestias et solicitudines deposui et ejeci. Quid causæ autem fuerit, postridié intellexi quam à vobis discessi. Χολὴν ἄκρατον noctu ejeci: statim ita sum levatus, ut mihi Deus aliquis medicinam fecisse videatur. Cui quidem Deo, quemadmodum tu soles, pié et casté satisfacies: id est, Apollini et Æsculapio.” Compare the rhetor Aristeides, Orat. xlv. pp. 22-23-155, ed. Dindorf. About the habit of sacrificing a cock to Æsculapius, see also a passage in the Ἱερῶν Λόγοι of the rhetor Aristeides (Orat. xxvii. p. 545, ed. Dindorf, at the top of the page). I will add that the five Ἱερῶν Λόγοι of that Rhetor (Oratt. xxiii.-xxvii.) are curious as testifying the multitude of dreams and revelations vouchsafed to him by Æsculapius; also the implicit faith with which he acted upon them in his maladies, and the success which attended the curative prescriptions thus made known to him. Aristeides declares himself to place more confidence in these revelations than in the advice of physicians, and to have often acted on them in preference to such advice (Orat. xlv. pp. 20-22, Dind.).
The direction here given by Sokrates to Kriton (though some critics, even the most recent, see Krische, Lehren der Griechischen Denker, p. 227, interpret it in a mystical sense) is to be understood simply and literally, in my judgment. On what occasion, or for what, he had made the vow of the cock, we are not told. Sokrates was a very religious man, much influenced by prophecies, oracles, dreams, and special revelations (Plato, Apol. Sokr. pp. 21-29-33; also Phædon, p. 60).
[97] Euripid. Hippol. 1455
| Κεκαρτέρηται τἄμ’· ὄληλα γάρ, πατέρ. Κρῦψον δέ μου πρόσωπον ὡς τάχος πέπλοις. |
Extreme pathos, and probable trustworthiness of these personal details.
The pathetic details of this scene — arranged with so much dramatic beauty, and lending imperishable interest to the Phædon of Plato — may be regarded as real facts, described from the recollection of an eye-witness, though many years after their occurrence. They present to us the personality of Sokrates in full harmony with that which we read in the Platonic Apology. The tranquil ascendancy of resolute and rational conviction, satisfied with the past, and welcoming instead of fearing the close of life — is exhibited as triumphing in the one case over adverse accusers and judges, in the other case over the unnerving manifestations of afflicted friends.
Contrast between the Platonic Apology and the Phædon.
But though the personal incidents of this dialogue are truly Sokratic — the dogmatic emphasis, and the apparatus of argument and hypothesis, are essentially Platonic. In these respects, the dialogue contrasts remarkably with the Apology. When addressing the Dikasts, Sokrates not only makes no profession of dogmatic certainty, but expressly disclaims it. Nay more — he considers that the false persuasion of such dogmatic certainty, universally prevalent among his countrymen, is as pernicious as it is illusory: and that his own superiority over others consists merely in consciousness of his own ignorance, while they are unconscious of theirs.[98] To dissipate such false persuasion of knowledge, by perpetual cross-examination of every one around, is the special mission imposed upon him by the Gods: in which mission, indeed, he has the firmest belief — but it is a belief, like that in his Dæmon or divine sign, depending upon oracles, dreams, and other revelations peculiar to himself, which he does not expect that the Dikasts will admit as genuine evidence.[99] One peculiar example, whereby Sokrates exemplifies the false persuasion of knowledge where men have no real knowledge, is borrowed from the fear of death. No man knows (he says) what death is, not even whether it may not be a signal benefit: yet every man fears it as if he well knew that it was the greatest evil.[100] Death must be one of two things: either a final extinction — a perpetual and dreamless sleep — or else a transference of the soul to some other place. Sokrates is persuaded that it will be in either case a benefit to him, and that the Gods will take care that he, a good man, shall suffer no evil, either living or dead: the proof of which is, to him, that the divine sign has never interposed any obstruction in regard to his trial and sentence. If (says he) I am transferred to some other abode, among those who have died before me, how delightful will it be to see Homer and Hesiod, Orpheus and Musæus, Agamemnon, Ajax or Palamêdes — and to pass my time in cross-examining each as to his true or false knowledge![101] Lastly, so far as he professes to aim at any positive end, it is the diffusion of political, social, human virtue, as distinguished from acquisitions above the measure of humanity. He tells men that it is not wealth which produces virtue, but virtue which produces wealth and other advantages, both public and private.[102]
[98] Plato, Apol. Sokr. pp. 21-29. καὶ τοῦτο πῶς οὐκ ἀμαθία ἐστὶν αὕτη ἡ ἐπονείδιστος, ἡ τοῦ οἴεσθαι εἰδέναι ἃ οὐκ οἶδεν; (29 A-B).