verence for God--a recognition not only of the divine existence, but
of the divine superintendence. "It is only a madman," he would say, "who
imputes success in life to human prudence;" and as to the necessity of a
right education for the young, "It is only the wise who are fit to
govern men." We must conclude that the accusations were only ostensible
or fictitious, and that beneath them lay some reality which could
reconcile the Athenians to the perpetration of so great a crime.

Shall we find in his private life any explanation of this mystery?
Unfortunately, the details of it which have descended to us are few. To
the investigations of classical criticism we can scarcely look with any
hope, for classical criticism has hitherto been in a state of singular
innocence, so far as the actual affairs of life are concerned. It
regards Athenians and Romans not as men and women like ourselves, but as
the personages presented by fictitious literature, whose lives are
exceptions to the common laws of human nature; who live in the midst of
scenes of endless surprises and occurrences ever bordering on the
marvellous.

[Sidenote: The character of Socrates in Athens.]

[Sidenote: Xantippe his wife.]

[Sidenote: He is really the victim of political animosity.]

If we examine the case according to everyday principles, we cannot fail
to remark that the Socrates of our imagination is a very different man
from the Socrates of contemporaneous Athenians. To us he appears a
transcendent genius, to whom the great names of antiquity render their
profound homage; a martyr in behalf of principles, of which, if society
be devoid, life itself is scarcely of any worth, and for the defence of
which it is the highest glory that a man should be called upon to die.
To them Socrates was no more than an idle lounger in the public places
and corners of the streets; grotesque, and even repulsive in his person;
affecting in the oddities of his walking and in his appearance many of
the manners of the mountebank. Neglecting the pursuit of an honest
calling, for his trade seems to have been that of a stone-cutter, he
wasted his time in discoursing with such youths as his lecherous
countenance and satyr-like person could gather around him, leading them
astray from the gods of his country, the flimsy veil of his hypocrisy
being too transparent to conceal his infidelity. Nevertheless, he was a
very brave soldier, as those who served with him testify. It does