Praeparatio Evangelica 13 part 2/6

You speak well. Then is it not the same in other matters too, Crito, so that we need not go through them all? And indeed also concerning things just and unjust, shameful and noble, good and evil, about which our present deliberation concerns us — ought we to follow the opinion of the many and fear it, or that of the one man, if there is such a one who understands, whom we ought to respect and fear more than all the others together? And if we do not follow him, shall we not corrupt and maim that thing which becomes better through the just and is destroyed through the unjust? Or is this nothing? — I think it is something, Socrates.

Come then, if we destroy that which becomes better through health but is corrupted through disease, obeying not the opinion of those who understand, is life worth living for us once it is destroyed? And this is somewhere the body, is it not? — Yes. Is life, then, worth living for us with a wretched and corrupted body? — By no means.

Then is it worth living for us, once that thing is corrupted which injustice maims and justice benefits? Or do we consider that thing — whatever it is of ours, concerning which injustice and justice are — to be of lesser worth than the body? — By no means. But of greater value? — By far.

Then, my excellent friend, we ought not to be so very concerned with what the many will say about us, but rather with what the one who understands about things just and unjust will say — that one man — and with the truth itself. So that, in the first place, you are not right in this proposal, in proposing that we ought to be concerned about the opinion of the many concerning things just and noble and good, and their opposites.

And the saving word also says: 'You seek glory from men, and the glory that comes from the only One you do not seek.' Wherefore we too, in the contests undertaken for piety, act rightly when we do not look to what the many will say of us, but to what the one Word of God wills — whom, having once chosen by judgment, it is fitting to honor in the same way both then and as before, and not to change our position, not even if the power of the many should terrify us like children. Such indeed were those of old among the Hebrews who shone forth in martyrdom.

Do we say that in no way must one do injustice willingly, or that one must do injustice in one way but not in another? Or is doing injustice in no way either noble or good, as was often agreed by us also in the time before? And this too was said just now. Or have all those former agreements of ours been poured out in these few days, and have we, Crito, at so great an age, failed to notice, while conversing earnestly with one another, that we were no different from children? Or is it rather the case, more than anything, just as it was said to us then — whether the many say so or not, and whether we must suffer things harsher than these or gentler ones — that doing injustice is, for the one who does it, in every way both evil and shameful? Do we say so, or not? — We say so.

In no way, then, must one do injustice? — Certainly not. Nor, then, must one who is wronged do injustice in return, as the many suppose, since indeed one must in no way do injustice? — It does not appear so. What then? Must one do evil, Crito, or not? — Surely one must not, Socrates. What then? Is it just, as the many say, to do evil in return upon one who has suffered evil, or not just? — In no way. For doing evil to men differs in nothing from doing injustice. — You speak well.

One must, then, neither do injustice in return, nor do evil to any man whatsoever, no matter what one may suffer at their hands. But see to it, Crito, that in agreeing to these things you do not agree against your own opinion; for I know that to only a few does this both seem so and will seem so. Between those, then, to whom this has so seemed, and those to whom it has not, there is no common counsel possible, but they are of necessity contemptuous of one another, when they observe each other's deliberations. Consider, then, very carefully for yourself too, whether you share in this and agree with it, and let us begin our deliberation from this point — that it is never right either to do injustice, or to do injustice in return, or, when suffering evil, to defend oneself by doing evil in return; or do you withdraw and not share in this starting point? For to me it has seemed so both long ago and still now.

But if it seems otherwise to you in some way, say so and instruct me; but if you abide by your former opinions, then hear what comes next. — But I do abide by them, and I agree; so speak. — Then let me say what comes next, or rather let me ask: whatever things one has agreed with someone are just, must one do them, or must one deceive the other and not do them? — One must do them.

Compare with these the words, 'rendering to no one evil for evil,' and 'bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat and persecute you, that you may become sons of your Father who is in the heavens, who makes his sun rise upon the evil and the good, and sends rain upon the just and the unjust.' And further: 'being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure; being slandered, we entreat' — words that are found in our sacred writings. And the prophet too, among the Hebrews, says: 'If I have repaid with evils those who repaid me evil'; and again, 'I was peaceable with those who hated peace.'

But you at that time made a fine show of not being troubled, if it should be necessary for you to die, but preferred, as you said, death to exile; yet now you feel no shame before those words, nor any regard for us the laws, in attempting to destroy us; and you are doing what the basest slave would do, attempting to run away contrary to the covenants and agreements according to which you agreed with us to live as a citizen.

First, then, answer us this very question: whether we speak the truth in saying that you have agreed, in deed if not in word, to live as a citizen under us — or is it not true? What shall we say to this, Crito? Anything other than that we agree? — It is necessary, Socrates. But what then, they would say, do you break the covenants and agreements you made with us, though you did not agree under compulsion, nor were you deceived, nor were you forced to deliberate in a short time, but over seventy years, in which it was possible for you to depart, if we did not please you, and if the agreements did not seem just to you?

But you preferred neither Lacedaemon nor Crete, which you are forever saying are well governed, nor any other of the Greek cities, nor of the barbarian ones; rather, you traveled abroad from this city less than the lame, the blind, and the other cripples. So distinctly more than the other Athenians did the city and, evidently, we the laws please you; for to whom could a city be pleasing apart from its laws? And now indeed will you not abide by what has been agreed? You will, if you are persuaded by us, Socrates.

For whoever is a corrupter of laws would surely be thought, in all likelihood, to be a corrupter of young and foolish men as well. Will you, then, flee from the well-governed cities and from the most orderly of men? And in doing this, will life be worth living for you? Or will you draw near to such people and shamelessly converse with certain arguments, Socrates, the same as you did here — that virtue and justice are of the greatest worth to men, and lawful institutions and the laws themselves? And do you not think that the affair of Socrates would appear disgraceful? You must think so.

But you will depart from these regions and come to Thessaly, to Crito's guest-friends there; for there indeed is the greatest disorder and licentiousness, and perhaps they would gladly hear from you how ridiculously you escaped from the prison, having put on some disguise, or taken a leather cloak, or some other such thing as those who escape are accustomed to dress themselves in, and having altered your own appearance.

But will there be no one to say that you, an old man with little time left to live, as is likely, dared so shamefully to desire to live, transgressing the greatest laws? Perhaps, if you offend no one; but if not, you will hear, Socrates, many things unworthy of yourself. You will live fawning upon all men and enslaved, doing what — feasting in Thessaly, as though you had traveled to Thessaly for a banquet? And where will those arguments of ours about justice and the rest of virtue be for us then? But do you wish to live for the sake of your children, in order to raise and educate them?

What then? Will you take them to Thessaly and raise and educate them there, making them foreigners, so that they may enjoy this benefit of yours as well? Or not this — but rather, being raised here while you are alive, will they be raised and educated better without your being present with them? For your friends will take care of them.

Will they, then, take care of them if you journey to Thessaly, but not take care of them if you journey to Hades — if indeed there is any use at all in those who claim to be your friends? You must believe they would.

But, Socrates, obey us, your nurturers, and value neither your children nor life itself nor anything else above justice, so that when you come to Hades you may have all these things to say in your defense before the rulers there; for neither here does it appear to you, in doing these things, that it would be better, or more just, or more holy, for you or for any of your own, nor will it be better for you when you arrive there.

But as it now stands, you will depart wronged, if you depart, not by us the laws, but by men; whereas if you go out in so shameful a manner, having done injustice in return and having wrought evil in return, having transgressed your own agreements and covenants made with us — having done evil to those whom you ought least of all to have harmed: yourself, your friends, your fatherland, and us — we shall be harsh with you while you live, and there our brothers, the laws in Hades, will not receive you kindly, knowing that you attempted, so far as it was in your power, to destroy us as well.

Now perhaps someone might say: Are you then not ashamed, Socrates, having pursued such a pursuit, from which you now run the risk of dying? But I would make this just reply to him: You do not speak well, sir, if you think that a man who is of even the smallest worth ought to take into account the risk of living or dying, rather than considering only this, whenever he acts, whether he does what is just or unjust, and the deeds of a good man or of a bad one.

For by your reasoning, the demigods who died at Troy would be base, both the others and the son of Thetis, who so despised danger in comparison with enduring anything shameful, that when his mother — being a goddess — said to him, eager as he was to kill Hector, something like this, as I recall: 'My son, if you avenge the murder of your comrade Patroclus and kill Hector, you yourself shall die; for immediately,' she says, 'after Hector, your fate is ready.' But he, upon hearing this, made light of death and danger, and fearing far more to live as a coward and not to avenge his friends, said: 'Let me die at once, having exacted justice upon the wrongdoer, rather than remain here, an object of ridicule beside the curved ships, a burden upon the earth.'

Do you think he gave thought to death and danger? For this is truly how it is, men of Athens: wherever a man stations himself, judging it to be best, or is stationed by his commander, there he must, as it seems to me, remain and face danger, taking into account neither death nor anything else, in preference to what is shameful.

I, then, would have done a terrible thing, men of Athens, if, when the commanders whom you chose to command me stationed me — both at Potidaea and at Amphipolis and at Delium, and elsewhere too — I remained where they stationed me, just like anyone else, and ran the risk of dying, but when God stationed me, as I believed and understood, requiring that I live philosophizing and examining myself and others, I should then, out of fear of death or any other thing whatsoever, abandon my post.

That indeed would be a terrible thing, and then someone might truly and justly bring me into court for not believing that gods exist, disobeying the oracle, fearing death, and thinking myself wise when I am not. For to fear death, gentlemen, is nothing other than to seem to be wise without being so; for it is to seem to know what one does not know. For no one knows about death, not even whether it happens to be, for man, the greatest of all goods; yet men fear it as though they knew well that it is the greatest of evils. And yet how is this not that reproachable ignorance, of thinking one knows what one does not know?

But I, gentlemen, differ from most men perhaps precisely in this: and if I should say I am wiser than someone in anything, it would be in this — that since I do not know sufficiently about the things in Hades, I likewise think that I do not know. But that doing injustice and disobeying one's better, whether god or man, is evil and shameful, this I know. Therefore, in preference to those evils which I know to be evils, I shall never fear or flee from those things which I do not know whether they even happen to be good.

So that not even if you should now acquit me, disbelieving Anytus, who said that either I ought not to have come here at the start, or, since I did come, it was not possible not to put me to death — telling you that if I should escape, your sons, by pursuing what Socrates teaches, would all be utterly corrupted — if to this you should say to me, 'Socrates, for now we will not be persuaded by Anytus, but we acquit you, on this condition however, that you no longer spend your time in this investigation nor practice philosophy; and if you are caught still doing this, you shall die' —

If, then, as I said, you should acquit me on these terms, I would say to you that I, men of Athens, greet and love you, but I will obey the god rather than you; and as long as I have breath and am able, I will not cease practicing philosophy, and exhorting and demonstrating to you, to whichever of you I ever happen to meet, saying the very things I am accustomed to say. And after a short while he adds:

Let us consider it also in this way, that there is great hope that it is a good thing. For being dead is one of two things: either it is like being nothing, and the dead man has no perception of anything at all; or, according to what is said, it happens to be a certain change and migration of the soul from the place here to another place. And if indeed there is no perception at all, but it is like a sleep, in which one who is sleeping sees nothing, not even a dream, then death would be a marvelous gain.

For I think that if someone had to pick out this night, in which he slept so soundly that he saw no dream at all, and had to set it side by side with all the other nights and days of his own life, and, upon reflection, had to say how many days and nights of his life he had lived better and more pleasantly than this night, I think that not some private person, but even the great King himself, would find these to be few and easily counted in comparison with the other days and nights. If, then, death is a thing of this kind, I for my part call it a gain; for in that case the whole of time appears to be nothing more than a single night.

But again, if death is like a journey away from here to another place, and if what is said is true, that all who have died are there, what greater good than this could there be, gentlemen of the jury? For if someone, arriving in Hades and freed from these men here who claim to be judges, shall find those who are truly judges, who are indeed said to render judgment there — Minos, and Rhadamanthys, and Aeacus, and Triptolemus, and all the other demigods who proved just in their own lives — would this journey really be a poor one?

Or again, to keep company with Orpheus and Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer, at what price would any of you not accept this? For I myself am willing to die many times over, if these things are true, since for me too the sojourn there would be wonderful, whenever I should meet Palamedes, and Ajax son of Telamon, and any other of the ancients who died through an unjust judgment; comparing my own sufferings with theirs, I think, would not be unpleasant. And indeed, the greatest thing of all would be to spend my time there examining and searching men, just as I do here, to find out which of them is wise, and which only thinks he is, but is not.

And among us it is said that we must obey God rather than men. And, 'do not fear those who kill the body but are not able to kill the soul.' And we know that if our earthly house of this tent should be dissolved, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens; and that, being away from home in the body, we are at home with the Lord, who has promised to all who have hoped in him that they shall rest in the bosoms of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, and that, together with the rest of the prophets and righteous ones beloved of God among the Hebrews, they shall pass the long age in a blessed life.

And of those who have died on campaign, whoever ends his life with good repute — shall we not say, first of all, that he belongs to the golden race? Most certainly, of all things. But shall we not believe Hesiod, when, after some of that race have died, he says that they become 'pure spirits dwelling upon the earth, noble, averters of evil, guardians of mortal men'? We shall indeed believe him. Then, having inquired of the god how we ought to establish those who are daemonic and divine, and by what distinguishing mark, shall we thus establish them in whatever way he directs? How could we not? And for the rest of time shall we not tend and worship their tombs in this way, as belonging to those who have become daemons? And shall we hold the same regard whenever anyone dies of old age or in some other manner, among all who are judged to have been exceptionally good in their life?

And these things are fitting also for the deaths of those beloved of God, whom you would not err in calling soldiers of true piety who have been taken up. Whence it is also our custom to go to their tombs, and to make our prayers beside them, and to honor their blessed souls, since these things too are reasonably done by us.

But these things, then, we have gathered from the writings of Plato; and some other lover of beauty might find still more things in the same author in agreement with our own teachings, and perhaps also in others. But since others before us have likewise taken up this same subject, it seems good to me that we should also examine what has been labored over by them. And I shall first set forth the words of Aristobulus, the philosopher from among the Hebrews, which run thus:

It is evident that Plato followed our legislation, and it is clear that he elaborately studied each of the matters contained in it. For it had been translated by others before Demetrius of Phalerum, before the dominion of Alexander and of the Persians — both the events concerning the exodus of the Hebrews, our fellow citizens, out of Egypt, and the manifestation of all that had happened to them, and the conquest of the land, and the exposition of the whole legislation — so that it is quite evident that the aforesaid philosopher took over many things; for he was a man of wide learning, just as Pythagoras also, having transferred many things from among us, incorporated them into his own system of doctrine.

And the whole translation of everything contained in the Law was carried out in the time of the king called Philadelphus, your ancestor, who brought to it even greater zeal, Demetrius of Phalerum having managed the affairs concerning these matters.

Then, having said certain things in between, he adds, saying: 'For one must understand the divine voice not as a spoken word, but as the fashioning of works, just as Moses too, through the legislation, has called the whole coming-into-being of the world “words of God.” For he says continually, at each point, “And God said,” and “it came to be.”'

And it seems to me that Pythagoras, and Socrates, and Plato, having elaborately examined everything, followed this same teaching, saying that they hear the voice of God when they closely contemplate the structure of the universe as having come to be by God and as being held together without ceasing. Moreover, Orpheus too, in the poems belonging to what is called by him the sacred discourse, sets forth in this manner the truth that all things are held fast by divine power and have come into being, and that God is over all things. He speaks thus:

I shall speak to those for whom it is lawful; but you who are profane, close the doors, fleeing from the ordinances of the righteous, since a divine law has been laid down for all. But you, Musaeus, offspring of light-bearing Selene, hearken; for I shall declare the truth, and let not what before appeared in your breast rob you of a life you love. Look rather to the divine word, and abide close beside it, guiding well the intellectual vessel of your heart; walk rightly upon the path, and gaze only upon the immortal fashioner of the universe. An ancient word shines forth concerning him: he is one, complete in himself, and by him all things are brought to completion; and he himself moves about within them, yet no mortal soul beholds him with the eye — he is beheld only by the mind. He himself, of his own goodness, sends no evil upon mortal men; yet favor and hatred attend him, and war and pestilence and tearful sorrows — nor is there any other beside him. You could readily behold all things, could you but see him; but before now, upon this earth, my child, I shall show you, whenever I myself catch sight of his footprints and the mighty hand of the powerful God. Himself I do not see; for a cloud has been fixed about him, hiding him from the rest of us, and from me too; and ten veils stand between mankind and him. For no mortal, articulate man could behold him ruling, save only some sole-begotten scion of the ancient Chaldean race; for that man was skilled in the course of the stars, and how the motion of the sphere revolves about the earth, circular and even, each upon its own axis; and he drives the winds about the air and about the flowing stream of water, and brings forth the bright blaze of the mightily-begotten fire. He himself again is fixed upon the great heaven, upon a golden throne; the earth lies beneath his feet; his right hand he stretches out to the bounds of Ocean; the foundations of the mountains tremble within, to their very heart, nor can they bear his mighty strength. He is wholly heavenly, and on earth all things come to their end, he himself holding the beginning and the middle and the end, as the ancient word tells, as he who sprang from matter ordained, having received from God, by his own purposes, a twofold ordinance. Otherwise it is not lawful to speak — my limbs tremble at the thought. From on high he governs all things, each in its order. O child, draw near with your understanding, mastering well your tongue, and lay up this utterance within your breast.

And Aratus also speaks concerning the same matters thus: 'Let us begin from Zeus, whom men never leave unnamed; full of Zeus are all the streets, and all the marketplaces of men; full is the sea, and the harbors too. In every way we all have need of Zeus, for we too are his offspring; and he, kindly toward men, gives favorable signs, and rouses the peoples to labor, reminding them of their livelihood; he tells when the soil is best for oxen and for mattocks, and he tells when the seasons are favorable both for planting trees and for casting all manner of seeds.'

I think it has been clearly shown that the power of God pervades all things. And as is fitting we have pointed this out, while removing from the poems the names Zeus and Zen; for the meaning of their thought is referred up to God — for this reason it has been stated thus by us. It is not, then, out of place that we have brought these things forward in answer to the matters under inquiry.

For it is agreed by all the philosophers that one must hold holy conceptions concerning God, a thing which our own school of thought especially and rightly enjoins. And the whole structure of the Law is, in our system, ordered concerning piety and righteousness and self-control and the rest of the goods that accord with truth.

Following these things, after certain other matters, he adds: 'Next in order comes how God fashioned the whole universe, and gave us the seventh day as a rest, because life is toilsome for all — a day which indeed might rightly be called also the first, being by nature the generation of light, in which all things are contemplated together.'

The same thing might also be applied to wisdom; for all light is from her. And some of those belonging to the school of the Peripatos have said that she holds the rank of a lamp; for those who follow her closely shall be established free from disturbance through their whole life.

But more clearly and more beautifully than these, one of our own ancestors, Solomon, said that she exists before heaven and earth. And this agrees with what has been said before. And that which is explained through the Law — that God 'ceased' from these works — this does not mean, as some suppose, that God thereafter does nothing, but rather that, having brought their order to completion, he has thus ordained it so for all time.

For it signifies that in six days he made heaven and earth and all things in them, in order that he might make known the seasons and foretell the order — what precedes what. For having so ordered them, he thus holds them together and does not alter them. And he has made this plain to us as a matter of law, for the sake of a sign concerning the seventh reckoning that pertains to us, in which we have knowledge of human and divine affairs.

And the whole world too, of all things that are begotten as living beings and all things that grow, revolves in cycles of seven. And that it is called Sabbath is interpreted to mean that it is rest. And Homer and Hesiod also make clear, having taken it over from our own books, that the seventh day is sacred. Hesiod speaks thus: 'first the new moon, and the fourth, and the seventh, a sacred day'; and again he says: 'and on the seventh again came the bright light of the sun.'

And Homer speaks thus: 'Then on the seventh day came down the sacred day'; and again: 'it was the seventh day, and on it all things had been accomplished'; and: 'on the seventh dawn we left the stream of Acheron.'

By this he signifies that, from the forgetfulness and vice that pertain to the soul, in the seventh discourse that is truly the seventh, the aforesaid things are left behind, and we receive knowledge of the truth, just as has been said before.

And Linus speaks thus: 'On the seventh dawn all things stand accomplished'; and again: 'the seventh is among the good things, and the seventh is a birth'; and: 'the seventh is among the first things, and the seventh is perfect'; and: 'all seven things stand fashioned in the starry heaven, appearing in cycles as the years come round.' Such, then, are the words of Aristobulus. And what has been said by Clement concerning this same subject, you may learn from what follows.

What follows must now likewise be rendered, and the Greek theft from barbarian philosophy must now be demonstrated more clearly still. For the Stoics say that God is a body, and by essence spirit, just as of course the soul is too. All these things you will find stated outright in the Scriptures. Do not, for the moment, think of their allegories, as gnostic truth hands them down, as though, like skilled wrestlers, showing one thing they signify another. But they say that God pervades through all substance, whereas we call him Maker alone, and Maker by his Word.

What led them astray was the saying in the book of Wisdom: 'she pervades and passes through all things because of her purity' — since they did not understand that this is said concerning the Wisdom that was first-created by God. 'Yes,' they say, 'but the philosophers posit matter among the first principles — both the Stoics, and Plato, and Pythagoras, and Aristotle the Peripatetic too — yet not a single first principle.' Let them know, then, that what is called by them 'matter,' said to be without quality and without shape — it would be a bold claim, unless it was indeed said by Plato — and whether, most mystically, knowing that there is one truly existing first principle, he does not say, in the Timaeus, in these very words:

'Now then, let this be our position: concerning all things — whether there is one first principle, or several, or however one may hold concerning these — it must not be stated at present, for no other reason than that it is difficult, in the present manner of exposition, to make clear what one thinks.'

Moreover, that prophetic saying, 'and the earth was invisible and unformed,' furnished them the starting points for a material substance. Indeed, for Epicurus the intrusion of chance came about precisely because he did not follow the text closely, and from this arose 'vanity of vanities, all is vanity.' As for Aristotle, he was led to bring providence down only as far as the moon, on the basis of this psalm: 'Lord, your mercy is in the heaven, and your truth reaches to the clouds.' For the disclosure of the prophetic mysteries had not yet been revealed before the coming of the Lord.