Chapter 3.—Of the Socratic
Philosophy.
Socrates is said to have been the
first who directed the entire effort of philosophy to the
correction and regulation of manners, all who went before him
having expended their greatest efforts in the investigation of
physical, that is, natural phenomena. However, it seems to me
that it cannot be certainly discovered whether Socrates did this
because he was wearied of obscure and uncertain things, and so
wished to direct his mind to the discovery of something manifest
and certain, which was necessary in order to the obtaining of a
blessed life,—that one great object toward which the labor,
vigilance, and industry of all philosophers seem to have been
directed,—or whether (as some yet more favorable to
him suppose)
he did it because he was unwilling that minds defiled with earthly
desires should essay to raise themselves upward to divine things.
For he saw that the causes of things were sought for by
them,—which causes he believed to be ultimately reducible to
nothing else than the will of the one true and supreme God,—and
on this account he thought they could only be comprehended by a
purified mind; and therefore that all diligence ought to be given
to the purification of the life by good morals, in order that the
mind, delivered from the depressing weight of lusts, might raise
itself upward by its native vigor to eternal things, and might,
with purified understanding, contemplate that nature which is
incorporeal and unchangeable light, where live the causes of all
created natures. It is evident, however, that he hunted out and
pursued, with a wonderful pleasantness of style and argument, and
with a most pointed and insinuating urbanity, the foolishness of
ignorant men, who thought that they knew this or that,—sometimes
confessing his own ignorance, and sometimes dissimulating his
knowledge, even in those very moral questions to which he seems to
have directed the whole force of his mind. And hence there arose
hostility against him, which ended in his being calumniously
impeached, and condemned to death. Afterwards, however, that very
city of the Athenians, which had publicly condemned him, did
publicly bewail him,—the popular indignation having turned with
such vehemence on his accusers, that one of them perished by the
violence of the multitude, whilst the other only escaped a like
punishment by voluntary and perpetual exile.
Illustrious, therefore, both in his
life and in his death, Socrates left very many disciples of his
philosophy, who vied with one another in desire for proficiency in
handling those moral questions which concern the chief good
(
summum bonum
), the possession of which can make a man
blessed; and because, in the disputations of Socrates, where he
raises all manner of questions, makes assertions, and then
demolishes them, it did not evidently appear what he held to be the
chief good, every one took from these disputations what pleased him
best, and every one placed the final good
298
in whatever it appeared to himself
to consist. Now, that which is called the final good is that at
which, when one has arrived, he is blessed. But so diverse were
the opinions held by those followers of Socrates concerning this
final good, that (a thing scarcely to be credited with respect to
the followers of one master) some placed the chief good in
pleasure, as Aristippus, others in virtue, as Antisthenes.
Indeed, it were tedious to recount the various opinions of various
disciples.
298
Finem boni.