All the same, the homely little fellow with the broken nose and the shabby cloak, who spent his days arguing with the loafers on the corner of the street and his nights listening to the harangues of his wife (who was obliged to provide for a large family by taking in washing, as her husband regarded the gaining of a livelihood as an entirely negligible detail of existence), this honorable veteran of many wars and expeditions and ex-member of the Athenian senate was chosen among all the many teachers of his day to suffer for his opinions. In order to understand how this happened, we must know something about the politics of Athens in the days when Socrates rendered his painful but highly useful service to the cause of human intelligence and progress. All his life long (and he was past seventy when he was executed) Socrates tried to show his neighbors that they were wasting their opportunities; that they were living hollow and shallow lives; that they devoted entirely too much time to empty pleasures and vain triumphs and almost invariably squandered the divine gifts with which a great and mysterious God had endowed them for the sake of a few hours of futile glory and self-satisfaction. And so thoroughly convinced was he of man’s high destiny that he broke through the bounds of all old philosophies and went even farther than Protagoras. For whereas the latter had taught that “man is the measure of all things,” Socrates preached that “man’s invisible conscience is (or ought to be) the ultimate measure of all things and that it is not the Gods but we ourselves who shape our destiny.” The speech which Socrates made before the judges who were to decide his fate (there were five hundred of them to be precise and they had been so carefully chosen by his political enemies that some of them could actually read and write) was one of the most delightful bits of commonsense ever addressed to any audience, sympathetic or otherwise. “No person on earth,” so the philosopher argued, “has the right to tell another man what he should believe or to deprive him of the right to think as he pleases,” and further, “Provided that man remain on good terms with his own conscience, he can well do without the approbation of his friends, without money, without a family or even a home. But as no one can possibly reach the right conclusions without a thorough examination of all the pros and cons of every problem, people must be given a chance to discuss all questions with complete freedom and without interference on the part of the authorities.”