erisimilitude to the myth. The myth too is far more probable to that
age than to ours, and may fairly be regarded as 'one guess among
many' about the nature of the earth, which he cleverly supports by the
indications of geology. Not that he insists on the absolute truth of
his own particular notions: 'no man of sense will be confident in such
matters; but he will be confident that something of the kind is true.'
As in other passages (Gorg., Tim., compare Crito), he wins belief for
his fictions by the moderation of his statements; he does not, like
Dante or Swedenborg, allow himself to be deceived by his own creations.

The Dialogue must be read in the light of the situation. And first of
all we are struck by the calmness of the scene. Like the spectators
at the time, we cannot pity Socrates; his mien and his language are
so noble and fearless. He is the same that he ever was, but milder and
gentler, and he has in no degree lost his interest in dialectics;
he will not forego the delight of an argument in compliance with the
jailer's intimation that he should not heat himself with talking. At
such a time he naturally expresses the hope of his life, that he has
been a true mystic and not a mere retainer or wand-bearer: and he refers
to passages of his personal history. To his old enemies the Comic
poets, and to the proceedings on the trial, he alludes playfully; but he
vividly remembers the disappointment which he felt in reading the books
of Anaxagoras. The return of Xanthippe and his children indicates that
the philosopher is not 'made of oak or rock.' Some other traits of his
character may be noted; for example, the courteous manner in which
he inclines his head to the last objector, or the ironical touch, 'Me
already, as the tragic poet would say, the voice of fate calls;' or
the depreciation of the arguments with which 'he comforted himself and
them;' or his fear of 'misology;' or his references to Homer; or the
playful smile with which he 'talks like a book' about greater and less;
or the allusion to the possibility of finding another teacher among
barbarous races (compare Polit.); or the mysterious reference to another
science (mathematics?) of generation and destruction for which he is
vainly feeling. There is no change in him; only now he is invested with
a sort of sacred character, as the prophet or priest of Apollo the God
of the festival, in whose honour he first of all composes a hymn,
and then like the swan po