Socrates And Alcibiades

During the period of the Peloponnesian war two men became strikingly

prominent in Athens, a statesman and a philosopher, as unlike each other

in character, appearance, aims, and methods as two persons could well

be, yet the most intimate of friends, and long dividing between them the

admiration of the Athenians. These were the historically famous

Alcibiades and Socrates. Alcibiades was a leader in action, Socrates a

le der in thought; thus they controlled the two great dominions of human

affairs.



Of these two, Socrates was vastly the nobler and higher, Alcibiades much

the more specious and popular. Democratic Athens was never long without

its aristocratic leader. For many years it had been Pericles. It now

became Alcibiades, a man whose career and character were much more like

those of Themistocles of old than of the sedate and patriotic Pericles.



Alcibiades was the Adonis of Athens, noted for his beauty, the charm of

his manner, his winning personality, qualities which made all men his

willing captives. He was of high birth, great wealth, and luxurious and

pleasure-loving disposition, yet with a remarkable power of

accommodating himself to circumstances, and becoming all things to all

men. While numbers of high-born Athenians admired him for his

extraordinary beauty of person, Socrates saw in him admirable qualities

of mind, and loved him with a warm affection, which Alcibiades as warmly

returned. The philosopher gained the greatest influence over his

youthful friend, taught him to despise affectation and revere virtue,

and did much to develop in him noble qualities of thought and

aspiration.



Yet nature had made Alcibiades, and nature's work is hard to undo. He

was a man of hasty impulse and violent temper, a man destitute of the

spirit of patriotism, and in very great measure it was to this brilliant

son of Athens that that city owed its lamentable fate.



No greater contrast could be imagined than was shown by these almost

inseparable friends. Alcibiades was tall, shapely, remarkably handsome,

fond of showy attire and luxurious surroundings, full of animal spirits,

rapid and animated in speech, and aristocratic in sentiment; Socrates

short, thick-set, remarkably ugly, careless in attire, destitute of all

courtly graces, democratic in the highest degree, and despising-utterly

those arts and aims, loves and luxuries, which appealed so strongly to

the soul of his ardent friend. Yet the genius, the intellectual

acuteness, the lofty aims, and wonderful conversational power of

Socrates overcame all his natural defects, attracted Alcibiades

irresistibly, and welded the two together in an intellectual sympathy

that set aside all differences of form and character.



The philosopher and the politician owed to each other their lives. They

served as soldiers together at Potidaea, lodged in the same tent, and

stood side by side in the ranks. Alcibiades was wounded in the battle,

but was defended and rescued by his friend, who afterwards persuaded the

generals to award to him the prize for valor. Later, at the battle of

Delium, Alcibiades protected and saved Socrates. These personal services

brought them into still closer relations, while their friendship was

perhaps the stronger from their almost complete diversity of character.



Unluckily for Athens, Socrates was not able to instil strong principles

of virtue into the mind of the versatile Alcibiades. This ardent

pleasure lover was moved by ambition, desire of admiration, love of

display, and fondness for luxurious living, and indulged in excesses

that it was not easy for the more frugal citizens to forgive. He sent

seven chariots to the Olympic Games, from which he carried off the

first, second, and fourth prizes. He gave splendid shows, distributed

money freely, and in spite of his wanton follies retained numbers of

friends among the Athenian people.



It was to this engaging and ambitious politician that the ruinous

Sicilian expedition was due. He persuaded the Athenians to engage in it,

in spite of wiser advice, and was one of those placed in command. But

the night before the fleet set sail a dreadful sacrilege took place. All

the statues of the god Hermes in the city were mutilated by unknown

parties,--an outrage which caused almost a panic among the

superstitious people. Among those accused of this sacrilege was

Alcibiades. There was no evidence against him, and he was permitted to

proceed. But after he had reached Sicily he was sent for to return, on a

new charge of sacrilege. He refused to do so, fearing the schemes of his

enemies, and, when told that the assembly had voted sentence of death

against him, he said, bitterly, "I will make them feel that I live!"



He did so. To him Athens was indebted for the ruin of its costly

expedition. He fled to Sparta and advised the Spartans to send to

Syracuse the able general to whom the Athenians owed their fatal defeat.

He also advised his new friends to seize and fortify a town in Attica.

By this they cut off all the land supply of food from Athens, and did

much to force the final submission of that city.



Alcibiades now put on a new guise. He affected to be enraptured with

Spartan manners, cropped his hair, lived on black broth, exercised

diligently, and by his fluent tongue made himself a favorite in that

austere city. But at length, by an idle boast, he roused Spartan enmity,

and had to fly again. Now he sought Asia Minor, became a friend of

Tissaphernes, the Persian satrap, adopted the excesses of Persian

luxury, and sought to break the alliance between Persia and Sparta,

which he had before sustained.



Next, moved by a desire to see his old home, he offered the leading

citizens of Athens to induce Tissaphernes to come to their aid, on the

condition that he might be permitted to return. But he declared that he

would not come while the democracy was in power, and it was by his

influence that the tyrannical Committee of Four Hundred was formed.

Afterwards, falling out with these tyrants, Alcibiades turned democrat

again, was made admiral of the fleet, and wrought the ruin of the

oligarchy which he had raised to power.



And now this brilliant and fickle son of Athens worked as actively and

ably for his native city as he had before sought her ruin. Under his

command the fleet gained several important victories, and conquered

Byzantium and other cities. The ruinous defeat at AEgospotami would not

have occurred had the admiral of the fleet listened to his timely

warning. After the fall of Athens, and during the tyranny of the Thirty,

he retired to Asia Minor, where he was honorably received by the satrap

Pharnabazus. And here the end came to his versatile career. One night

the house in which he slept was surrounded by a body of armed men and

set on fire. He rushed out, sword in hand, but a shower of darts and

arrows quickly robbed him of life. Through whose enmity he died is not

known. Thus perished, at less than fifty years of age, one of the most

brilliant and able of all the Athenians,--one who, had he lived, would

doubtless have added fresh and striking chapters to the history of his

native land, though whether to her advantage or injury cannot now be

told.



The career of Socrates was wonderfully different from that of his

brilliant but unprincipled friend. While Alcibiades was seeking to

dazzle and control, Socrates was seeking to convince and improve

mankind. A striking picture is given us of the physical qualities of

this great moral philosopher. His ugliness of face was matter of jest in

Athens. He had the flat nose, thick lips, and prominent eyes of a satyr.

Yet he was as strong as he was ugly. Few Athenians could equal him in

endurance. While serving as a soldier, he was able to endure heat and

cold, hunger and fatigue, in a manner that astonished his companions. He

went barefoot in all weather, and wore the same clothing winter and

summer. His diet was of the simplest, but in religious festivals, when

all were expected to indulge, Socrates could drink more wine than any

person present, without a sign of intoxication. Yet it was his constant

aim to limit his wants and to avoid all excess.



To these qualities of body Socrates added the highest and noblest

qualities of mind. Naturally he had a violent temper, but he held it

under severe control, though he could not always avoid a display of

anger under circumstances of great provocation. But his depth of

thought, his remarkable powers of argument, his earnest desire for human

amendment, his incessant moral lessons to the Athenians, place him in

the very first rank of the teachers of mankind.



Socrates was of humble birth. He was born 469 B.C. and lived for seventy

years. His father was a sculptor, and he followed the same profession.

He married, and his wife Xanthippe has become famous for the acidity of

her temper. There is little doubt that Socrates, whose life was spent in

arguing and conversing, and who paid little attention to filling the

larder, gave the poor housewife abundant provocation. We know very

little about the events of his life, except that he served as a soldier

in three campaigns, that he strictly obeyed the laws, performed all his

religious duties, and once, when acting as judge, refused, at the peril

of his life, to perform an unjust action.



Of the daily life of Socrates we have graphic pictures, drawn by his

friends and followers Xenophon and Plato. From morning to night he might

be seen in the streets and public places, engaged in endless

talk,--prattling, his enemies called it. In the early morning, his

sturdy figure, shabbily dressed, and his pale and ill-featured face,

were familiar visions in the public walks, the gymnasia, and the

schools. At the hour when the market-place was most crowded, Socrates

would be there, walking about among the booths and tables, and talking

to every one whom he could induce to listen. Thus was his whole day

spent. He was ready to talk with any one, old or young, rich or poor,

being in no sense a respecter of persons. He conversed with artisans,

philosophers, students, soldiers, politicians,--all classes of men. He

visited everywhere, was known to all persons of distinction, and was a

special friend of Aspasia, the brilliant woman companion of Pericles.



His conversational powers must have been extraordinary, for none seemed

to tire of hearing him, and many sought him in his haunts, eager to hear

his engaging and instructive talk. Many, indeed, in his later years,

came from other cities of Greece, drawn to Athens by his fame, and

anxious to hear this wonderful conversationalist and teacher. These

became known as his scholars or disciples, though he claimed nothing

resembling a school, and received no reward for his teachings.



The talk of Socrates was never idle or meaningless chat. He felt that he

had a special mission to fulfil, that in a sense he was an envoy to man

from the gods, and declared that, from childhood on, a divine voice had

spoken to him, unheard by others, warning and restraining him from

unwise acts or sayings. It forbade him to enter public life, controlled

him day by day, and was frequently mentioned by him to his disciples.

This guardian voice has become known as the daemon or genius of Socrates.



The oracle at Delphi said that no man was wiser than Socrates. To learn

if this was true and he really was wiser than other men, he questioned

everybody everywhere, seeking to learn what they knew, and leading them

on by question after question till he usually found that they knew very

little of what they professed.



As to what Socrates taught, we can only say here that he was the first

great ethical philosopher. The philosophers before him had sought to

explain the mystery of the universe. He declared that all this was

useless and profitless. Man's mind was superior to all matter, and he

led men to look within, study their own souls, consider the question of

human duty, the obligations of man to man, and all that leads towards

virtue and the moral development of human society.



It is not surprising that Xanthippe scolded her idle husband, who

supplied so much food for the souls of others, but quite ignored the

demands of food for the bodies of his wife and children. His teachings

were but vaporing talk to her small mind and to those of many of the

people. And the keen questions with which he convicted so many of

ignorance, and the sarcastic irony with which he wounded their

self-love, certainly did not make him friends among this class. In

truth, he made many enemies. One of these was Aristophanes, the

dramatist, who wrote a comedy in which he sought to make Socrates

ridiculous. This turned many of the audiences at the theatres against

him.






All this went on until the year 399 B.C., when some of his enemies

accused him of impiety, declaring that he did not worship the old gods,

but introduced new ones and corrupted the minds of the young. "The

penalty due," they said, "is death."



It had taken them some thirty years to find this out, for Socrates had

been teaching the same things for that length of time. In fact, no

ancient city but Athens would have listened to his radical talk for so

many years without some such charge. But he had now so many enemies that

the accusation was dangerous. He made it worse by his carelessness in

his defence. He said things that provoked his judges. He could have been

acquitted if he wished, for in the final vote only a majority of five or

six out of nearly six hundred brought him in guilty.



Socrates seemingly did not care what verdict they brought. He had no

fear of death, and would not trouble himself to say a word to preserve

his life. The divine voice, he declared, would not permit him. He was

sentenced to drink the poison of hemlock, and was imprisoned for thirty

days, during which he conversed in his old calm manner with his friends.



Some of his disciples arranged a plan for his escape, but he refused to

fly. If his fellow-citizens wished to take his life he would not oppose

their wills. On the last day he drank the hemlock as calmly as though it

were his usual beverage, and talked on quietly till death sealed his

tongue.



Thus died the first and one of the greatest of ethical philosophers, and

a man without a parallel, in his peculiar field, in all the history of

mankind. Greece produced none like him, and this homely and humble

personage, who wrote not a line, has been unsurpassed in fame and

influence upon mankind by any of the host of illustrious writers who

have made famous the Hellenic lands.