Phaedo by Plato
Phaedo

Plato Phaedo

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[1]        PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE:
[2]        Phaedo, who is the narrator of the dialogue to Echecrates of Phlius.
[3]        Socrates, Apollodorus, Simmias, Cebes, Crito and an Attendant of the
[4]        Prison.
[5]        
[6]        SCENE: The Prison of Socrates.
[7]        
[8]        PLACE OF THE NARRATION: Phlius.
[9]        
[10]       
[11]       ECHECRATES: Were you yourself, Phaedo, in the prison with Socrates on the
[12]       day when he drank the poison?
[13]       
[14]       PHAEDO: Yes, Echecrates, I was.
[15]       
[16]       ECHECRATES: I should so like to hear about his death. What did he say in
[17]       his last hours? We were informed that he died by taking poison, but no one
[18]       knew anything more; for no Phliasian ever goes to Athens now, and it is a
[19]       long time since any stranger from Athens has found his way hither; so that
[20]       we had no clear account.
[21]       
[22]       PHAEDO: Did you not hear of the proceedings at the trial?
[23]       
[24]       ECHECRATES: Yes; some one told us about the trial, and we could not
[25]       understand why, having been condemned, he should have been put to death,
[26]       not at the time, but long afterwards. What was the reason of this?
[27]       
[28]       PHAEDO: An accident, Echecrates: the stern of the ship which the
[29]       Athenians send to Delos happened to have been crowned on the day before he
[30]       was tried.
[31]       
[32]       ECHECRATES: What is this ship?
[33]       
[34]       PHAEDO: It is the ship in which, according to Athenian tradition, Theseus
[35]       went to Crete when he took with him the fourteen youths, and was the
[36]       saviour of them and of himself. And they were said to have vowed to Apollo
[37]       at the time, that if they were saved they would send a yearly mission to
[38]       Delos. Now this custom still continues, and the whole period of the voyage
[39]       to and from Delos, beginning when the priest of Apollo crowns the stern of
[40]       the ship, is a holy season, during which the city is not allowed to be
[41]       polluted by public executions; and when the vessel is detained by contrary
[42]       winds, the time spent in going and returning is very considerable. As I
[43]       was saying, the ship was crowned on the day before the trial, and this was
[44]       the reason why Socrates lay in prison and was not put to death until long
[45]       after he was condemned.
[46]       
[47]       ECHECRATES: What was the manner of his death, Phaedo? What was said or
[48]       done? And which of his friends were with him? Or did the authorities
[49]       forbid them to be present--so that he had no friends near him when he died?
[50]       
[51]       PHAEDO: No; there were several of them with him.
[52]       
[53]       ECHECRATES: If you have nothing to do, I wish that you would tell me what
[54]       passed, as exactly as you can.
[55]       
[56]       PHAEDO: I have nothing at all to do, and will try to gratify your wish.
[57]       To be reminded of Socrates is always the greatest delight to me, whether I
[58]       speak myself or hear another speak of him.
[59]       
[60]       ECHECRATES: You will have listeners who are of the same mind with you, and
[61]       I hope that you will be as exact as you can.
[62]       
[63]       PHAEDO: I had a singular feeling at being in his company. For I could
[64]       hardly believe that I was present at the death of a friend, and therefore I
[65]       did not pity him, Echecrates; he died so fearlessly, and his words and
[66]       bearing were so noble and gracious, that to me he appeared blessed. I
[67]       thought that in going to the other world he could not be without a divine
[68]       call, and that he would be happy, if any man ever was, when he arrived
[69]       there, and therefore I did not pity him as might have seemed natural at
[70]       such an hour. But I had not the pleasure which I usually feel in
[71]       philosophical discourse (for philosophy was the theme of which we spoke).
[72]       I was pleased, but in the pleasure there was also a strange admixture of
[73]       pain; for I reflected that he was soon to die, and this double feeling was
[74]       shared by us all; we were laughing and weeping by turns, especially the
[75]       excitable Apollodorus--you know the sort of man?
[76]       
[77]       ECHECRATES: Yes.
[78]       
[79]       PHAEDO: He was quite beside himself; and I and all of us were greatly
[80]       moved.
[81]       
[82]       ECHECRATES: Who were present?
[83]       
[84]       PHAEDO: Of native Athenians there were, besides Apollodorus, Critobulus
[85]       and his father Crito, Hermogenes, Epigenes, Aeschines, Antisthenes;
[86]       likewise Ctesippus of the deme of Paeania, Menexenus, and some others;
[87]       Plato, if I am not mistaken, was ill.
[88]       
[89]       ECHECRATES: Were there any strangers?
[90]       
[91]       PHAEDO: Yes, there were; Simmias the Theban, and Cebes, and Phaedondes;
[92]       Euclid and Terpison, who came from Megara.
[93]       
[94]       ECHECRATES: And was Aristippus there, and Cleombrotus?
[95]       
[96]       PHAEDO: No, they were said to be in Aegina.
[97]       
[98]       ECHECRATES: Any one else?
[99]       
[100]      PHAEDO: I think that these were nearly all.
[101]      
[102]      ECHECRATES: Well, and what did you talk about?
[103]      
[104]      PHAEDO: I will begin at the beginning, and endeavour to repeat the entire
[105]      conversation. On the previous days we had been in the habit of assembling
[106]      early in the morning at the court in which the trial took place, and which
[107]      is not far from the prison. There we used to wait talking with one another
[108]      until the opening of the doors (for they were not opened very early); then
[109]      we went in and generally passed the day with Socrates. On the last morning
[110]      we assembled sooner than usual, having heard on the day before when we
[111]      quitted the prison in the evening that the sacred ship had come from Delos,
[112]      and so we arranged to meet very early at the accustomed place. On our
[113]      arrival the jailer who answered the door, instead of admitting us, came out
[114]      and told us to stay until he called us. 'For the Eleven,' he said, 'are
[115]      now with Socrates; they are taking off his chains, and giving orders that
[116]      he is to die to-day.' He soon returned and said that we might come in. On
[117]      entering we found Socrates just released from chains, and Xanthippe, whom
[118]      you know, sitting by him, and holding his child in her arms. When she saw
[119]      us she uttered a cry and said, as women will: 'O Socrates, this is the
[120]      last time that either you will converse with your friends, or they with
[121]      you.' Socrates turned to Crito and said: 'Crito, let some one take her
[122]      home.' Some of Crito's people accordingly led her away, crying out and
[123]      beating herself. And when she was gone, Socrates, sitting up on the couch,
[124]      bent and rubbed his leg, saying, as he was rubbing: How singular is the
[125]      thing called pleasure, and how curiously related to pain, which might be
[126]      thought to be the opposite of it; for they are never present to a man at
[127]      the same instant, and yet he who pursues either is generally compelled to
[128]      take the other; their bodies are two, but they are joined by a single head.
[129]      And I cannot help thinking that if Aesop had remembered them, he would have
[130]      made a fable about God trying to reconcile their strife, and how, when he
[131]      could not, he fastened their heads together; and this is the reason why
[132]      when one comes the other follows, as I know by my own experience now, when
[133]      after the pain in my leg which was caused by the chain pleasure appears to
[134]      succeed.
[135]      
[136]      Upon this Cebes said: I am glad, Socrates, that you have mentioned the
[137]      name of Aesop. For it reminds me of a question which has been asked by
[138]      many, and was asked of me only the day before yesterday by Evenus the poet
[139]      --he will be sure to ask it again, and therefore if you would like me to
[140]      have an answer ready for him, you may as well tell me what I should say to
[141]      him:--he wanted to know why you, who never before wrote a line of poetry,
[142]      now that you are in prison are turning Aesop's fables into verse, and also
[143]      composing that hymn in honour of Apollo.
[144]      
[145]      Tell him, Cebes, he replied, what is the truth--that I had no idea of
[146]      rivalling him or his poems; to do so, as I knew, would be no easy task.
[147]      But I wanted to see whether I could purge away a scruple which I felt about
[148]      the meaning of certain dreams. In the course of my life I have often had
[149]      intimations in dreams 'that I should compose music.' The same dream came
[150]      to me sometimes in one form, and sometimes in another, but always saying
[151]      the same or nearly the same words: 'Cultivate and make music,' said the
[152]      dream. And hitherto I had imagined that this was only intended to exhort
[153]      and encourage me in the study of philosophy, which has been the pursuit of
[154]      my life, and is the noblest and best of music. The dream was bidding me do
[155]      what I was already doing, in the same way that the competitor in a race is
[156]      bidden by the spectators to run when he is already running. But I was not
[157]      certain of this, for the dream might have meant music in the popular sense
[158]      of the word, and being under sentence of death, and the festival giving me
[159]      a respite, I thought that it would be safer for me to satisfy the scruple,
[160]      and, in obedience to the dream, to compose a few verses before I departed.
[161]      And first I made a hymn in honour of the god of the festival, and then
[162]      considering that a poet, if he is really to be a poet, should not only put
[163]      together words, but should invent stories, and that I have no invention, I
[164]      took some fables of Aesop, which I had ready at hand and which I knew--they
[165]      were the first I came upon--and turned them into verse. Tell this to
[166]      Evenus, Cebes, and bid him be of good cheer; say that I would have him come
[167]      after me if he be a wise man, and not tarry; and that to-day I am likely to
[168]      be going, for the Athenians say that I must.
[169]      
[170]      Simmias said: What a message for such a man! having been a frequent
[171]      companion of his I should say that, as far as I know him, he will never
[172]      take your advice unless he is obliged.
[173]      
[174]      Why, said Socrates,--is not Evenus a philosopher?
[175]      
[176]      I think that he is, said Simmias.
[177]      
[178]      Then he, or any man who has the spirit of philosophy, will be willing to
[179]      die, but he will not take his own life, for that is held to be unlawful.
[180]      
[181]      Here he changed his position, and put his legs off the couch on to the
[182]      ground, and during the rest of the conversation he remained sitting.
[183]      
[184]      Why do you say, enquired Cebes, that a man ought not to take his own life,
[185]      but that the philosopher will be ready to follow the dying?
[186]      
[187]      Socrates replied: And have you, Cebes and Simmias, who are the disciples
[188]      of Philolaus, never heard him speak of this?
[189]      
[190]      Yes, but his language was obscure, Socrates.
[191]      
[192]      My words, too, are only an echo; but there is no reason why I should not
[193]      repeat what I have heard: and indeed, as I am going to another place, it
[194]      is very meet for me to be thinking and talking of the nature of the
[195]      pilgrimage which I am about to make. What can I do better in the interval
[196]      between this and the setting of the sun?
[197]      
[198]      Then tell me, Socrates, why is suicide held to be unlawful? as I have
[199]      certainly heard Philolaus, about whom you were just now asking, affirm when
[200]      he was staying with us at Thebes: and there are others who say the same,
[201]      although I have never understood what was meant by any of them.
[202]      
[203]      Do not lose heart, replied Socrates, and the day may come when you will
[204]      understand. I suppose that you wonder why, when other things which are
[205]      evil may be good at certain times and to certain persons, death is to be
[206]      the only exception, and why, when a man is better dead, he is not permitted
[207]      to be his own benefactor, but must wait for the hand of another.
[208]      
[209]      Very true, said Cebes, laughing gently and speaking in his native Boeotian.
[210]      
[211]      I admit the appearance of inconsistency in what I am saying; but there may
[212]      not be any real inconsistency after all. There is a doctrine whispered in
[213]      secret that man is a prisoner who has no right to open the door and run
[214]      away; this is a great mystery which I do not quite understand. Yet I too
[215]      believe that the gods are our guardians, and that we are a possession of
[216]      theirs. Do you not agree?
[217]      
[218]      Yes, I quite agree, said Cebes.
[219]      
[220]      And if one of your own possessions, an ox or an ass, for example, took the
[221]      liberty of putting himself out of the way when you had given no intimation
[222]      of your wish that he should die, would you not be angry with him, and would
[223]      you not punish him if you could?
[224]      
[225]      Certainly, replied Cebes.
[226]      
[227]      Then, if we look at the matter thus, there may be reason in saying that a
[228]      man should wait, and not take his own life until God summons him, as he is
[229]      now summoning me.
[230]      
[231]      Yes, Socrates, said Cebes, there seems to be truth in what you say. And
[232]      yet how can you reconcile this seemingly true belief that God is our
[233]      guardian and we his possessions, with the willingness to die which we were
[234]      just now attributing to the philosopher? That the wisest of men should be
[235]      willing to leave a service in which they are ruled by the gods who are the
[236]      best of rulers, is not reasonable; for surely no wise man thinks that when
[237]      set at liberty he can take better care of himself than the gods take of
[238]      him. A fool may perhaps think so--he may argue that he had better run away
[239]      from his master, not considering that his duty is to remain to the end, and
[240]      not to run away from the good, and that there would be no sense in his
[241]      running away. The wise man will want to be ever with him who is better
[242]      than himself. Now this, Socrates, is the reverse of what was just now
[243]      said; for upon this view the wise man should sorrow and the fool rejoice at
[244]      passing out of life.
[245]      
[246]      The earnestness of Cebes seemed to please Socrates. Here, said he, turning
[247]      to us, is a man who is always inquiring, and is not so easily convinced by
[248]      the first thing which he hears.
[249]      
[250]      And certainly, added Simmias, the objection which he is now making does
[251]      appear to me to have some force. For what can be the meaning of a truly
[252]      wise man wanting to fly away and lightly leave a master who is better than
[253]      himself? And I rather imagine that Cebes is referring to you; he thinks
[254]      that you are too ready to leave us, and too ready to leave the gods whom
[255]      you acknowledge to be our good masters.
[256]      
[257]      Yes, replied Socrates; there is reason in what you say. And so you think
[258]      that I ought to answer your indictment as if I were in a court?
[259]      
[260]      We should like you to do so, said Simmias.
[261]      
[262]      Then I must try to make a more successful defence before you than I did
[263]      when before the judges. For I am quite ready to admit, Simmias and Cebes,
[264]      that I ought to be grieved at death, if I were not persuaded in the first
[265]      place that I am going to other gods who are wise and good (of which I am as
[266]      certain as I can be of any such matters), and secondly (though I am not so
[267]      sure of this last) to men departed, better than those whom I leave behind;
[268]      and therefore I do not grieve as I might have done, for I have good hope
[269]      that there is yet something remaining for the dead, and as has been said of
[270]      old, some far better thing for the good than for the evil.
[271]      
[272]      But do you mean to take away your thoughts with you, Socrates? said
[273]      Simmias. Will you not impart them to us?--for they are a benefit in which
[274]      we too are entitled to share. Moreover, if you succeed in convincing us,
[275]      that will be an answer to the charge against yourself.
[276]      
[277]      I will do my best, replied Socrates. But you must first let me hear what
[278]      Crito wants; he has long been wishing to say something to me.
[279]      
[280]      Only this, Socrates, replied Crito:--the attendant who is to give you the
[281]      poison has been telling me, and he wants me to tell you, that you are not
[282]      to talk much, talking, he says, increases heat, and this is apt to
[283]      interfere with the action of the poison; persons who excite themselves are
[284]      sometimes obliged to take a second or even a third dose.
[285]      
[286]      Then, said Socrates, let him mind his business and be prepared to give the
[287]      poison twice or even thrice if necessary; that is all.
[288]      
[289]      I knew quite well what you would say, replied Crito; but I was obliged to
[290]      satisfy him.
[291]      
[292]      Never mind him, he said.
[293]      
[294]      And now, O my judges, I desire to prove to you that the real philosopher
[295]      has reason to be of good cheer when he is about to die, and that after
[296]      death he may hope to obtain the greatest good in the other world. And how
[297]      this may be, Simmias and Cebes, I will endeavour to explain. For I deem
[298]      that the true votary of philosophy is likely to be misunderstood by other
[299]      men; they do not perceive that he is always pursuing death and dying; and
[300]      if this be so, and he has had the desire of death all his life long, why
[301]      when his time comes should he repine at that which he has been always
[302]      pursuing and desiring?
[303]      
[304]      Simmias said laughingly: Though not in a laughing humour, you have made me
[305]      laugh, Socrates; for I cannot help thinking that the many when they hear
[306]      your words will say how truly you have described philosophers, and our
[307]      people at home will likewise say that the life which philosophers desire is
[308]      in reality death, and that they have found them out to be deserving of the
[309]      death which they desire.
[310]      
[311]      And they are right, Simmias, in thinking so, with the exception of the
[312]      words 'they have found them out'; for they have not found out either what
[313]      is the nature of that death which the true philosopher deserves, or how he
[314]      deserves or desires death. But enough of them:--let us discuss the matter
[315]      among ourselves: Do we believe that there is such a thing as death?
[316]      
[317]      To be sure, replied Simmias.
[318]      
[319]      Is it not the separation of soul and body? And to be dead is the
[320]      completion of this; when the soul exists in herself, and is released from
[321]      the body and the body is released from the soul, what is this but death?
[322]      
[323]      Just so, he replied.
[324]      
[325]      There is another question, which will probably throw light on our present
[326]      inquiry if you and I can agree about it:--Ought the philosopher to care
[327]      about the pleasures--if they are to be called pleasures--of eating and
[328]      drinking?
[329]      
[330]      Certainly not, answered Simmias.
[331]      
[332]      And what about the pleasures of love--should he care for them?
[333]      
[334]      By no means.
[335]      
[336]      And will he think much of the other ways of indulging the body, for
[337]      example, the acquisition of costly raiment, or sandals, or other adornments
[338]      of the body? Instead of caring about them, does he not rather despise
[339]      anything more than nature needs? What do you say?
[340]      
[341]      I should say that the true philosopher would despise them.
[342]      
[343]      Would you not say that he is entirely concerned with the soul and not with
[344]      the body? He would like, as far as he can, to get away from the body and
[345]      to turn to the soul.
[346]      
[347]      Quite true.
[348]      
[349]      In matters of this sort philosophers, above all other men, may be observed
[350]      in every sort of way to dissever the soul from the communion of the body.
[351]      
[352]      Very true.
[353]      
[354]      Whereas, Simmias, the rest of the world are of opinion that to him who has
[355]      no sense of pleasure and no part in bodily pleasure, life is not worth
[356]      having; and that he who is indifferent about them is as good as dead.
[357]      
[358]      That is also true.
[359]      
[360]      What again shall we say of the actual acquirement of knowledge?--is the
[361]      body, if invited to share in the enquiry, a hinderer or a helper? I mean
[362]      to say, have sight and hearing any truth in them? Are they not, as the
[363]      poets are always telling us, inaccurate witnesses? and yet, if even they
[364]      are inaccurate and indistinct, what is to be said of the other senses?--for
[365]      you will allow that they are the best of them?
[366]      
[367]      Certainly, he replied.
[368]      
[369]      Then when does the soul attain truth?--for in attempting to consider
[370]      anything in company with the body she is obviously deceived.
[371]      
[372]      True.
[373]      
[374]      Then must not true existence be revealed to her in thought, if at all?
[375]      
[376]      Yes.
[377]      
[378]      And thought is best when the mind is gathered into herself and none of
[379]      these things trouble her--neither sounds nor sights nor pain nor any
[380]      pleasure,--when she takes leave of the body, and has as little as possible
[381]      to do with it, when she has no bodily sense or desire, but is aspiring
[382]      after true being?
[383]      
[384]      Certainly.
[385]      
[386]      And in this the philosopher dishonours the body; his soul runs away from
[387]      his body and desires to be alone and by herself?
[388]      
[389]      That is true.
[390]      
[391]      Well, but there is another thing, Simmias: Is there or is there not an
[392]      absolute justice?
[393]      
[394]      Assuredly there is.
[395]      
[396]      And an absolute beauty and absolute good?
[397]      
[398]      Of course.
[399]      
[400]      But did you ever behold any of them with your eyes?
[401]      
[402]      Certainly not.
[403]      
[404]      Or did you ever reach them with any other bodily sense?--and I speak not of
[405]      these alone, but of absolute greatness, and health, and strength, and of
[406]      the essence or true nature of everything. Has the reality of them ever
[407]      been perceived by you through the bodily organs? or rather, is not the
[408]      nearest approach to the knowledge of their several natures made by him who
[409]      so orders his intellectual vision as to have the most exact conception of
[410]      the essence of each thing which he considers?
[411]      
[412]      Certainly.
[413]      
[414]      And he attains to the purest knowledge of them who goes to each with the
[415]      mind alone, not introducing or intruding in the act of thought sight or any
[416]      other sense together with reason, but with the very light of the mind in
[417]      her own clearness searches into the very truth of each; he who has got rid,
[418]      as far as he can, of eyes and ears and, so to speak, of the whole body,
[419]      these being in his opinion distracting elements which when they infect the
[420]      soul hinder her from acquiring truth and knowledge--who, if not he, is
[421]      likely to attain the knowledge of true being?
[422]      
[423]      What you say has a wonderful truth in it, Socrates, replied Simmias.
[424]      
[425]      And when real philosophers consider all these things, will they not be led
[426]      to make a reflection which they will express in words something like the
[427]      following? 'Have we not found,' they will say, 'a path of thought which
[428]      seems to bring us and our argument to the conclusion, that while we are in
[429]      the body, and while the soul is infected with the evils of the body, our
[430]      desire will not be satisfied? and our desire is of the truth. For the body
[431]      is a source of endless trouble to us by reason of the mere requirement of
[432]      food; and is liable also to diseases which overtake and impede us in the
[433]      search after true being: it fills us full of loves, and lusts, and fears,
[434]      and fancies of all kinds, and endless foolery, and in fact, as men say,
[435]      takes away from us the power of thinking at all. Whence come wars, and
[436]      fightings, and factions? whence but from the body and the lusts of the
[437]      body? wars are occasioned by the love of money, and money has to be
[438]      acquired for the sake and in the service of the body; and by reason of all
[439]      these impediments we have no time to give to philosophy; and, last and
[440]      worst of all, even if we are at leisure and betake ourselves to some
[441]      speculation, the body is always breaking in upon us, causing turmoil and
[442]      confusion in our enquiries, and so amazing us that we are prevented from
[443]      seeing the truth. It has been proved to us by experience that if we would
[444]      have pure knowledge of anything we must be quit of the body--the soul in
[445]      herself must behold things in themselves: and then we shall attain the
[446]      wisdom which we desire, and of which we say that we are lovers, not while
[447]      we live, but after death; for if while in company with the body, the soul
[448]      cannot have pure knowledge, one of two things follows--either knowledge is
[449]      not to be attained at all, or, if at all, after death. For then, and not
[450]      till then, the soul will be parted from the body and exist in herself
[451]      alone. In this present life, I reckon that we make the nearest approach to
[452]      knowledge when we have the least possible intercourse or communion with the
[453]      body, and are not surfeited with the bodily nature, but keep ourselves pure
[454]      until the hour when God himself is pleased to release us. And thus having
[455]      got rid of the foolishness of the body we shall be pure and hold converse
[456]      with the pure, and know of ourselves the clear light everywhere, which is
[457]      no other than the light of truth.' For the impure are not permitted to
[458]      approach the pure. These are the sort of words, Simmias, which the true
[459]      lovers of knowledge cannot help saying to one another, and thinking. You
[460]      would agree; would you not?
[461]      
[462]      Undoubtedly, Socrates.
[463]      
[464]      But, O my friend, if this is true, there is great reason to hope that,
[465]      going whither I go, when I have come to the end of my journey, I shall
[466]      attain that which has been the pursuit of my life. And therefore I go on
[467]      my way rejoicing, and not I only, but every other man who believes that his
[468]      mind has been made ready and that he is in a manner purified.
[469]      
[470]      Certainly, replied Simmias.
[471]      
[472]      And what is purification but the separation of the soul from the body, as I
[473]      was saying before; the habit of the soul gathering and collecting herself
[474]      into herself from all sides out of the body; the dwelling in her own place
[475]      alone, as in another life, so also in this, as far as she can;--the release
[476]      of the soul from the chains of the body?
[477]      
[478]      Very true, he said.
[479]      
[480]      And this separation and release of the soul from the body is termed death?
[481]      
[482]      To be sure, he said.
[483]      
[484]      And the true philosophers, and they only, are ever seeking to release the
[485]      soul. Is not the separation and release of the soul from the body their
[486]      especial study?
[487]      
[488]      That is true.
[489]      
[490]      And, as I was saying at first, there would be a ridiculous contradiction in
[491]      men studying to live as nearly as they can in a state of death, and yet
[492]      repining when it comes upon them.
[493]      
[494]      Clearly.
[495]      
[496]      And the true philosophers, Simmias, are always occupied in the practice of
[497]      dying, wherefore also to them least of all men is death terrible. Look at
[498]      the matter thus:--if they have been in every way the enemies of the body,
[499]      and are wanting to be alone with the soul, when this desire of theirs is
[500]      granted, how inconsistent would they be if they trembled and repined,
[501]      instead of rejoicing at their departure to that place where, when they
[502]      arrive, they hope to gain that which in life they desired--and this was
[503]      wisdom--and at the same time to be rid of the company of their enemy. Many
[504]      a man has been willing to go to the world below animated by the hope of
[505]      seeing there an earthly love, or wife, or son, and conversing with them.
[506]      And will he who is a true lover of wisdom, and is strongly persuaded in
[507]      like manner that only in the world below he can worthily enjoy her, still
[508]      repine at death? Will he not depart with joy? Surely he will, O my
[509]      friend, if he be a true philosopher. For he will have a firm conviction
[510]      that there and there only, he can find wisdom in her purity. And if this
[511]      be true, he would be very absurd, as I was saying, if he were afraid of
[512]      death.
[513]      
[514]      He would, indeed, replied Simmias.
[515]      
[516]      And when you see a man who is repining at the approach of death, is not his
[517]      reluctance a sufficient proof that he is not a lover of wisdom, but a lover
[518]      of the body, and probably at the same time a lover of either money or
[519]      power, or both?
[520]      
[521]      Quite so, he replied.
[522]      
[523]      And is not courage, Simmias, a quality which is specially characteristic of
[524]      the philosopher?
[525]      
[526]      Certainly.
[527]      
[528]      There is temperance again, which even by the vulgar is supposed to consist
[529]      in the control and regulation of the passions, and in the sense of
[530]      superiority to them--is not temperance a virtue belonging to those only who
[531]      despise the body, and who pass their lives in philosophy?
[532]      
[533]      Most assuredly.
[534]      
[535]      For the courage and temperance of other men, if you will consider them, are
[536]      really a contradiction.
[537]      
[538]      How so?
[539]      
[540]      Well, he said, you are aware that death is regarded by men in general as a
[541]      great evil.
[542]      
[543]      Very true, he said.
[544]      
[545]      And do not courageous men face death because they are afraid of yet greater
[546]      evils?
[547]      
[548]      That is quite true.
[549]      
[550]      Then all but the philosophers are courageous only from fear, and because
[551]      they are afraid; and yet that a man should be courageous from fear, and
[552]      because he is a coward, is surely a strange thing.
[553]      
[554]      Very true.
[555]      
[556]      And are not the temperate exactly in the same case? They are temperate
[557]      because they are intemperate--which might seem to be a contradiction, but
[558]      is nevertheless the sort of thing which happens with this foolish
[559]      temperance. For there are pleasures which they are afraid of losing; and
[560]      in their desire to keep them, they abstain from some pleasures, because
[561]      they are overcome by others; and although to be conquered by pleasure is
[562]      called by men intemperance, to them the conquest of pleasure consists in
[563]      being conquered by pleasure. And that is what I mean by saying that, in a
[564]      sense, they are made temperate through intemperance.
[565]      
[566]      Such appears to be the case.
[567]      
[568]      Yet the exchange of one fear or pleasure or pain for another fear or
[569]      pleasure or pain, and of the greater for the less, as if they were coins,
[570]      is not the exchange of virtue. O my blessed Simmias, is there not one true
[571]      coin for which all things ought to be exchanged?--and that is wisdom; and
[572]      only in exchange for this, and in company with this, is anything truly
[573]      bought or sold, whether courage or temperance or justice. And is not all
[574]      true virtue the companion of wisdom, no matter what fears or pleasures or
[575]      other similar goods or evils may or may not attend her? But the virtue
[576]      which is made up of these goods, when they are severed from wisdom and
[577]      exchanged with one another, is a shadow of virtue only, nor is there any
[578]      freedom or health or truth in her; but in the true exchange there is a
[579]      purging away of all these things, and temperance, and justice, and courage,
[580]      and wisdom herself are the purgation of them. The founders of the
[581]      mysteries would appear to have had a real meaning, and were not talking
[582]      nonsense when they intimated in a figure long ago that he who passes
[583]      unsanctified and uninitiated into the world below will lie in a slough, but
[584]      that he who arrives there after initiation and purification will dwell with
[585]      the gods. For 'many,' as they say in the mysteries, 'are the thyrsus-
[586]      bearers, but few are the mystics,'--meaning, as I interpret the words, 'the
[587]      true philosophers.' In the number of whom, during my whole life, I have
[588]      been seeking, according to my ability, to find a place;--whether I have
[589]      sought in a right way or not, and whether I have succeeded or not, I shall
[590]      truly know in a little while, if God will, when I myself arrive in the
[591]      other world--such is my belief. And therefore I maintain that I am right,
[592]      Simmias and Cebes, in not grieving or repining at parting from you and my
[593]      masters in this world, for I believe that I shall equally find good masters
[594]      and friends in another world. But most men do not believe this saying; if
[595]      then I succeed in convincing you by my defence better than I did the
[596]      Athenian judges, it will be well.
[597]      
[598]      Cebes answered: I agree, Socrates, in the greater part of what you say.
[599]      But in what concerns the soul, men are apt to be incredulous; they fear
[600]      that when she has left the body her place may be nowhere, and that on the
[601]      very day of death she may perish and come to an end--immediately on her
[602]      release from the body, issuing forth dispersed like smoke or air and in her
[603]      flight vanishing away into nothingness. If she could only be collected
[604]      into herself after she has obtained release from the evils of which you are
[605]      speaking, there would be good reason to hope, Socrates, that what you say
[606]      is true. But surely it requires a great deal of argument and many proofs
[607]      to show that when the man is dead his soul yet exists, and has any force or
[608]      intelligence.
[609]      
[610]      True, Cebes, said Socrates; and shall I suggest that we converse a little
[611]      of the probabilities of these things?
[612]      
[613]      I am sure, said Cebes, that I should greatly like to know your opinion
[614]      about them.
[615]      
[616]      I reckon, said Socrates, that no one who heard me now, not even if he were
[617]      one of my old enemies, the Comic poets, could accuse me of idle talking
[618]      about matters in which I have no concern:--If you please, then, we will
[619]      proceed with the inquiry.
[620]      
[621]      Suppose we consider the question whether the souls of men after death are
[622]      or are not in the world below. There comes into my mind an ancient
[623]      doctrine which affirms that they go from hence into the other world, and
[624]      returning hither, are born again from the dead. Now if it be true that the
[625]      living come from the dead, then our souls must exist in the other world,
[626]      for if not, how could they have been born again? And this would be
[627]      conclusive, if there were any real evidence that the living are only born
[628]      from the dead; but if this is not so, then other arguments will have to be
[629]      adduced.
[630]      
[631]      Very true, replied Cebes.
[632]      
[633]      Then let us consider the whole question, not in relation to man only, but
[634]      in relation to animals generally, and to plants, and to everything of which
[635]      there is generation, and the proof will be easier. Are not all things
[636]      which have opposites generated out of their opposites? I mean such things
[637]      as good and evil, just and unjust--and there are innumerable other
[638]      opposites which are generated out of opposites. And I want to show that in
[639]      all opposites there is of necessity a similar alternation; I mean to say,
[640]      for example, that anything which becomes greater must become greater after
[641]      being less.
[642]      
[643]      True.
[644]      
[645]      And that which becomes less must have been once greater and then have
[646]      become less.
[647]      
[648]      Yes.
[649]      
[650]      And the weaker is generated from the stronger, and the swifter from the
[651]      slower.
[652]      
[653]      Very true.
[654]      
[655]      And the worse is from the better, and the more just is from the more
[656]      unjust.
[657]      
[658]      Of course.
[659]      
[660]      And is this true of all opposites? and are we convinced that all of them
[661]      are generated out of opposites?
[662]      
[663]      Yes.
[664]      
[665]      And in this universal opposition of all things, are there not also two
[666]      intermediate processes which are ever going on, from one to the other
[667]      opposite, and back again; where there is a greater and a less there is also
[668]      an intermediate process of increase and diminution, and that which grows is
[669]      said to wax, and that which decays to wane?
[670]      
[671]      Yes, he said.
[672]      
[673]      And there are many other processes, such as division and composition,
[674]      cooling and heating, which equally involve a passage into and out of one
[675]      another. And this necessarily holds of all opposites, even though not
[676]      always expressed in words--they are really generated out of one another,
[677]      and there is a passing or process from one to the other of them?
[678]      
[679]      Very true, he replied.
[680]      
[681]      Well, and is there not an opposite of life, as sleep is the opposite of
[682]      waking?
[683]      
[684]      True, he said.
[685]      
[686]      And what is it?
[687]      
[688]      Death, he answered.
[689]      
[690]      And these, if they are opposites, are generated the one from the other, and
[691]      have there their two intermediate processes also?
[692]      
[693]      Of course.
[694]      
[695]      Now, said Socrates, I will analyze one of the two pairs of opposites which
[696]      I have mentioned to you, and also its intermediate processes, and you shall
[697]      analyze the other to me. One of them I term sleep, the other waking. The
[698]      state of sleep is opposed to the state of waking, and out of sleeping
[699]      waking is generated, and out of waking, sleeping; and the process of
[700]      generation is in the one case falling asleep, and in the other waking up.
[701]      Do you agree?
[702]      
[703]      I entirely agree.
[704]      
[705]      Then, suppose that you analyze life and death to me in the same manner. Is
[706]      not death opposed to life?
[707]      
[708]      Yes.
[709]      
[710]      And they are generated one from the other?
[711]      
[712]      Yes.
[713]      
[714]      What is generated from the living?
[715]      
[716]      The dead.
[717]      
[718]      And what from the dead?
[719]      
[720]      I can only say in answer--the living.
[721]      
[722]      Then the living, whether things or persons, Cebes, are generated from the
[723]      dead?
[724]      
[725]      That is clear, he replied.
[726]      
[727]      Then the inference is that our souls exist in the world below?
[728]      
[729]      That is true.
[730]      
[731]      And one of the two processes or generations is visible--for surely the act
[732]      of dying is visible?
[733]      
[734]      Surely, he said.
[735]      
[736]      What then is to be the result? Shall we exclude the opposite process? And
[737]      shall we suppose nature to walk on one leg only? Must we not rather assign
[738]      to death some corresponding process of generation?
[739]      
[740]      Certainly, he replied.
[741]      
[742]      And what is that process?
[743]      
[744]      Return to life.
[745]      
[746]      And return to life, if there be such a thing, is the birth of the dead into
[747]      the world of the living?
[748]      
[749]      Quite true.
[750]      
[751]      Then here is a new way by which we arrive at the conclusion that the living
[752]      come from the dead, just as the dead come from the living; and this, if
[753]      true, affords a most certain proof that the souls of the dead exist in some
[754]      place out of which they come again.
[755]      
[756]      Yes, Socrates, he said; the conclusion seems to flow necessarily out of our
[757]      previous admissions.
[758]      
[759]      And that these admissions were not unfair, Cebes, he said, may be shown, I
[760]      think, as follows: If generation were in a straight line only, and there
[761]      were no compensation or circle in nature, no turn or return of elements
[762]      into their opposites, then you know that all things would at last have the
[763]      same form and pass into the same state, and there would be no more
[764]      generation of them.
[765]      
[766]      What do you mean? he said.
[767]      
[768]      A simple thing enough, which I will illustrate by the case of sleep, he
[769]      replied. You know that if there were no alternation of sleeping and
[770]      waking, the tale of the sleeping Endymion would in the end have no meaning,
[771]      because all other things would be asleep, too, and he would not be
[772]      distinguishable from the rest. Or if there were composition only, and no
[773]      division of substances, then the chaos of Anaxagoras would come again. And
[774]      in like manner, my dear Cebes, if all things which partook of life were to
[775]      die, and after they were dead remained in the form of death, and did not
[776]      come to life again, all would at last die, and nothing would be alive--what
[777]      other result could there be? For if the living spring from any other
[778]      things, and they too die, must not all things at last be swallowed up in
[779]      death? (But compare Republic.)
[780]      
[781]      There is no escape, Socrates, said Cebes; and to me your argument seems to
[782]      be absolutely true.
[783]      
[784]      Yes, he said, Cebes, it is and must be so, in my opinion; and we have not
[785]      been deluded in making these admissions; but I am confident that there
[786]      truly is such a thing as living again, and that the living spring from the
[787]      dead, and that the souls of the dead are in existence, and that the good
[788]      souls have a better portion than the evil.
[789]      
[790]      Cebes added: Your favorite doctrine, Socrates, that knowledge is simply
[791]      recollection, if true, also necessarily implies a previous time in which we
[792]      have learned that which we now recollect. But this would be impossible
[793]      unless our soul had been in some place before existing in the form of man;
[794]      here then is another proof of the soul's immortality.
[795]      
[796]      But tell me, Cebes, said Simmias, interposing, what arguments are urged in
[797]      favour of this doctrine of recollection. I am not very sure at the moment
[798]      that I remember them.
[799]      
[800]      One excellent proof, said Cebes, is afforded by questions. If you put a
[801]      question to a person in a right way, he will give a true answer of himself,
[802]      but how could he do this unless there were knowledge and right reason
[803]      already in him? And this is most clearly shown when he is taken to a
[804]      diagram or to anything of that sort. (Compare Meno.)
[805]      
[806]      But if, said Socrates, you are still incredulous, Simmias, I would ask you
[807]      whether you may not agree with me when you look at the matter in another
[808]      way;--I mean, if you are still incredulous as to whether knowledge is
[809]      recollection.
[810]      
[811]      Incredulous, I am not, said Simmias; but I want to have this doctrine of
[812]      recollection brought to my own recollection, and, from what Cebes has said,
[813]      I am beginning to recollect and be convinced; but I should still like to
[814]      hear what you were going to say.
[815]      
[816]      This is what I would say, he replied:--We should agree, if I am not
[817]      mistaken, that what a man recollects he must have known at some previous
[818]      time.
[819]      
[820]      Very true.
[821]      
[822]      And what is the nature of this knowledge or recollection? I mean to ask,
[823]      Whether a person who, having seen or heard or in any way perceived
[824]      anything, knows not only that, but has a conception of something else which
[825]      is the subject, not of the same but of some other kind of knowledge, may
[826]      not be fairly said to recollect that of which he has the conception?
[827]      
[828]      What do you mean?
[829]      
[830]      I mean what I may illustrate by the following instance:--The knowledge of a
[831]      lyre is not the same as the knowledge of a man?
[832]      
[833]      True.
[834]      
[835]      And yet what is the feeling of lovers when they recognize a lyre, or a
[836]      garment, or anything else which the beloved has been in the habit of using?
[837]      Do not they, from knowing the lyre, form in the mind's eye an image of the
[838]      youth to whom the lyre belongs? And this is recollection. In like manner
[839]      any one who sees Simmias may remember Cebes; and there are endless examples
[840]      of the same thing.
[841]      
[842]      Endless, indeed, replied Simmias.
[843]      
[844]      And recollection is most commonly a process of recovering that which has
[845]      been already forgotten through time and inattention.
[846]      
[847]      Very true, he said.
[848]      
[849]      Well; and may you not also from seeing the picture of a horse or a lyre
[850]      remember a man? and from the picture of Simmias, you may be led to remember
[851]      Cebes?
[852]      
[853]      True.
[854]      
[855]      Or you may also be led to the recollection of Simmias himself?
[856]      
[857]      Quite so.
[858]      
[859]      And in all these cases, the recollection may be derived from things either
[860]      like or unlike?
[861]      
[862]      It may be.
[863]      
[864]      And when the recollection is derived from like things, then another
[865]      consideration is sure to arise, which is--whether the likeness in any
[866]      degree falls short or not of that which is recollected?
[867]      
[868]      Very true, he said.
[869]      
[870]      And shall we proceed a step further, and affirm that there is such a thing
[871]      as equality, not of one piece of wood or stone with another, but that, over
[872]      and above this, there is absolute equality? Shall we say so?
[873]      
[874]      Say so, yes, replied Simmias, and swear to it, with all the confidence in
[875]      life.
[876]      
[877]      And do we know the nature of this absolute essence?
[878]      
[879]      To be sure, he said.
[880]      
[881]      And whence did we obtain our knowledge? Did we not see equalities of
[882]      material things, such as pieces of wood and stones, and gather from them
[883]      the idea of an equality which is different from them? For you will
[884]      acknowledge that there is a difference. Or look at the matter in another
[885]      way:--Do not the same pieces of wood or stone appear at one time equal, and
[886]      at another time unequal?
[887]      
[888]      That is certain.
[889]      
[890]      But are real equals ever unequal? or is the idea of equality the same as of
[891]      inequality?
[892]      
[893]      Impossible, Socrates.
[894]      
[895]      Then these (so-called) equals are not the same with the idea of equality?
[896]      
[897]      I should say, clearly not, Socrates.
[898]      
[899]      And yet from these equals, although differing from the idea of equality,
[900]      you conceived and attained that idea?
[901]      
[902]      Very true, he said.
[903]      
[904]      Which might be like, or might be unlike them?
[905]      
[906]      Yes.
[907]      
[908]      But that makes no difference; whenever from seeing one thing you conceived
[909]      another, whether like or unlike, there must surely have been an act of
[910]      recollection?
[911]      
[912]      Very true.
[913]      
[914]      But what would you say of equal portions of wood and stone, or other
[915]      material equals? and what is the impression produced by them? Are they
[916]      equals in the same sense in which absolute equality is equal? or do they
[917]      fall short of this perfect equality in a measure?
[918]      
[919]      Yes, he said, in a very great measure too.
[920]      
[921]      And must we not allow, that when I or any one, looking at any object,
[922]      observes that the thing which he sees aims at being some other thing, but
[923]      falls short of, and cannot be, that other thing, but is inferior, he who
[924]      makes this observation must have had a previous knowledge of that to which
[925]      the other, although similar, was inferior?
[926]      
[927]      Certainly.
[928]      
[929]      And has not this been our own case in the matter of equals and of absolute
[930]      equality?
[931]      
[932]      Precisely.
[933]      
[934]      Then we must have known equality previously to the time when we first saw
[935]      the material equals, and reflected that all these apparent equals strive to
[936]      attain absolute equality, but fall short of it?
[937]      
[938]      Very true.
[939]      
[940]      And we recognize also that this absolute equality has only been known, and
[941]      can only be known, through the medium of sight or touch, or of some other
[942]      of the senses, which are all alike in this respect?
[943]      
[944]      Yes, Socrates, as far as the argument is concerned, one of them is the same
[945]      as the other.
[946]      
[947]      From the senses then is derived the knowledge that all sensible things aim
[948]      at an absolute equality of which they fall short?
[949]      
[950]      Yes.
[951]      
[952]      Then before we began to see or hear or perceive in any way, we must have
[953]      had a knowledge of absolute equality, or we could not have referred to that
[954]      standard the equals which are derived from the senses?--for to that they
[955]      all aspire, and of that they fall short.
[956]      
[957]      No other inference can be drawn from the previous statements.
[958]      
[959]      And did we not see and hear and have the use of our other senses as soon as
[960]      we were born?
[961]      
[962]      Certainly.
[963]      
[964]      Then we must have acquired the knowledge of equality at some previous time?
[965]      
[966]      Yes.
[967]      
[968]      That is to say, before we were born, I suppose?
[969]      
[970]      True.
[971]      
[972]      And if we acquired this knowledge before we were born, and were born having
[973]      the use of it, then we also knew before we were born and at the instant of
[974]      birth not only the equal or the greater or the less, but all other ideas;
[975]      for we are not speaking only of equality, but of beauty, goodness, justice,
[976]      holiness, and of all which we stamp with the name of essence in the
[977]      dialectical process, both when we ask and when we answer questions. Of all
[978]      this we may certainly affirm that we acquired the knowledge before birth?
[979]      
[980]      We may.
[981]      
[982]      But if, after having acquired, we have not forgotten what in each case we
[983]      acquired, then we must always have come into life having knowledge, and
[984]      shall always continue to know as long as life lasts--for knowing is the
[985]      acquiring and retaining knowledge and not forgetting. Is not forgetting,
[986]      Simmias, just the losing of knowledge?
[987]      
[988]      Quite true, Socrates.
[989]      
[990]      But if the knowledge which we acquired before birth was lost by us at
[991]      birth, and if afterwards by the use of the senses we recovered what we
[992]      previously knew, will not the process which we call learning be a
[993]      recovering of the knowledge which is natural to us, and may not this be
[994]      rightly termed recollection?
[995]      
[996]      Very true.
[997]      
[998]      So much is clear--that when we perceive something, either by the help of
[999]      sight, or hearing, or some other sense, from that perception we are able to
[1000]     obtain a notion of some other thing like or unlike which is associated with
[1001]     it but has been forgotten. Whence, as I was saying, one of two
[1002]     alternatives follows:--either we had this knowledge at birth, and continued
[1003]     to know through life; or, after birth, those who are said to learn only
[1004]     remember, and learning is simply recollection.
[1005]     
[1006]     Yes, that is quite true, Socrates.
[1007]     
[1008]     And which alternative, Simmias, do you prefer? Had we the knowledge at our
[1009]     birth, or did we recollect the things which we knew previously to our
[1010]     birth?
[1011]     
[1012]     I cannot decide at the moment.
[1013]     
[1014]     At any rate you can decide whether he who has knowledge will or will not be
[1015]     able to render an account of his knowledge? What do you say?
[1016]     
[1017]     Certainly, he will.
[1018]     
[1019]     But do you think that every man is able to give an account of these very
[1020]     matters about which we are speaking?
[1021]     
[1022]     Would that they could, Socrates, but I rather fear that to-morrow, at this
[1023]     time, there will no longer be any one alive who is able to give an account
[1024]     of them such as ought to be given.
[1025]     
[1026]     Then you are not of opinion, Simmias, that all men know these things?
[1027]     
[1028]     Certainly not.
[1029]     
[1030]     They are in process of recollecting that which they learned before?
[1031]     
[1032]     Certainly.
[1033]     
[1034]     But when did our souls acquire this knowledge?--not since we were born as
[1035]     men?
[1036]     
[1037]     Certainly not.
[1038]     
[1039]     And therefore, previously?
[1040]     
[1041]     Yes.
[1042]     
[1043]     Then, Simmias, our souls must also have existed without bodies before they
[1044]     were in the form of man, and must have had intelligence.
[1045]     
[1046]     Unless indeed you suppose, Socrates, that these notions are given us at the
[1047]     very moment of birth; for this is the only time which remains.
[1048]     
[1049]     Yes, my friend, but if so, when do we lose them? for they are not in us
[1050]     when we are born--that is admitted. Do we lose them at the moment of
[1051]     receiving them, or if not at what other time?
[1052]     
[1053]     No, Socrates, I perceive that I was unconsciously talking nonsense.
[1054]     
[1055]     Then may we not say, Simmias, that if, as we are always repeating, there is
[1056]     an absolute beauty, and goodness, and an absolute essence of all things;
[1057]     and if to this, which is now discovered to have existed in our former
[1058]     state, we refer all our sensations, and with this compare them, finding
[1059]     these ideas to be pre-existent and our inborn possession--then our souls
[1060]     must have had a prior existence, but if not, there would be no force in the
[1061]     argument? There is the same proof that these ideas must have existed
[1062]     before we were born, as that our souls existed before we were born; and if
[1063]     not the ideas, then not the souls.
[1064]     
[1065]     Yes, Socrates; I am convinced that there is precisely the same necessity
[1066]     for the one as for the other; and the argument retreats successfully to the
[1067]     position that the existence of the soul before birth cannot be separated
[1068]     from the existence of the essence of which you speak. For there is nothing
[1069]     which to my mind is so patent as that beauty, goodness, and the other
[1070]     notions of which you were just now speaking, have a most real and absolute
[1071]     existence; and I am satisfied with the proof.
[1072]     
[1073]     Well, but is Cebes equally satisfied? for I must convince him too.
[1074]     
[1075]     I think, said Simmias, that Cebes is satisfied: although he is the most
[1076]     incredulous of mortals, yet I believe that he is sufficiently convinced of
[1077]     the existence of the soul before birth. But that after death the soul will
[1078]     continue to exist is not yet proven even to my own satisfaction. I cannot
[1079]     get rid of the feeling of the many to which Cebes was referring--the
[1080]     feeling that when the man dies the soul will be dispersed, and that this
[1081]     may be the extinction of her. For admitting that she may have been born
[1082]     elsewhere, and framed out of other elements, and was in existence before
[1083]     entering the human body, why after having entered in and gone out again may
[1084]     she not herself be destroyed and come to an end?
[1085]     
[1086]     Very true, Simmias, said Cebes; about half of what was required has been
[1087]     proven; to wit, that our souls existed before we were born:--that the soul
[1088]     will exist after death as well as before birth is the other half of which
[1089]     the proof is still wanting, and has to be supplied; when that is given the
[1090]     demonstration will be complete.
[1091]     
[1092]     But that proof, Simmias and Cebes, has been already given, said Socrates,
[1093]     if you put the two arguments together--I mean this and the former one, in
[1094]     which we admitted that everything living is born of the dead. For if the
[1095]     soul exists before birth, and in coming to life and being born can be born
[1096]     only from death and dying, must she not after death continue to exist,
[1097]     since she has to be born again?--Surely the proof which you desire has been
[1098]     already furnished. Still I suspect that you and Simmias would be glad to
[1099]     probe the argument further. Like children, you are haunted with a fear
[1100]     that when the soul leaves the body, the wind may really blow her away and
[1101]     scatter her; especially if a man should happen to die in a great storm and
[1102]     not when the sky is calm.
[1103]     
[1104]     Cebes answered with a smile: Then, Socrates, you must argue us out of our
[1105]     fears--and yet, strictly speaking, they are not our fears, but there is a
[1106]     child within us to whom death is a sort of hobgoblin; him too we must
[1107]     persuade not to be afraid when he is alone in the dark.
[1108]     
[1109]     Socrates said: Let the voice of the charmer be applied daily until you
[1110]     have charmed away the fear.
[1111]     
[1112]     And where shall we find a good charmer of our fears, Socrates, when you are
[1113]     gone?
[1114]     
[1115]     Hellas, he replied, is a large place, Cebes, and has many good men, and
[1116]     there are barbarous races not a few: seek for him among them all, far and
[1117]     wide, sparing neither pains nor money; for there is no better way of
[1118]     spending your money. And you must seek among yourselves too; for you will
[1119]     not find others better able to make the search.
[1120]     
[1121]     The search, replied Cebes, shall certainly be made. And now, if you
[1122]     please, let us return to the point of the argument at which we digressed.
[1123]     
[1124]     By all means, replied Socrates; what else should I please?
[1125]     
[1126]     Very good.
[1127]     
[1128]     Must we not, said Socrates, ask ourselves what that is which, as we
[1129]     imagine, is liable to be scattered, and about which we fear? and what again
[1130]     is that about which we have no fear? And then we may proceed further to
[1131]     enquire whether that which suffers dispersion is or is not of the nature of
[1132]     soul--our hopes and fears as to our own souls will turn upon the answers to
[1133]     these questions.
[1134]     
[1135]     Very true, he said.
[1136]     
[1137]     Now the compound or composite may be supposed to be naturally capable, as
[1138]     of being compounded, so also of being dissolved; but that which is
[1139]     uncompounded, and that only, must be, if anything is, indissoluble.
[1140]     
[1141]     Yes; I should imagine so, said Cebes.
[1142]     
[1143]     And the uncompounded may be assumed to be the same and unchanging, whereas
[1144]     the compound is always changing and never the same.
[1145]     
[1146]     I agree, he said.
[1147]     
[1148]     Then now let us return to the previous discussion. Is that idea or
[1149]     essence, which in the dialectical process we define as essence or true
[1150]     existence--whether essence of equality, beauty, or anything else--are these
[1151]     essences, I say, liable at times to some degree of change? or are they each
[1152]     of them always what they are, having the same simple self-existent and
[1153]     unchanging forms, not admitting of variation at all, or in any way, or at
[1154]     any time?
[1155]     
[1156]     They must be always the same, Socrates, replied Cebes.
[1157]     
[1158]     And what would you say of the many beautiful--whether men or horses or
[1159]     garments or any other things which are named by the same names and may be
[1160]     called equal or beautiful,--are they all unchanging and the same always, or
[1161]     quite the reverse? May they not rather be described as almost always
[1162]     changing and hardly ever the same, either with themselves or with one
[1163]     another?
[1164]     
[1165]     The latter, replied Cebes; they are always in a state of change.
[1166]     
[1167]     And these you can touch and see and perceive with the senses, but the
[1168]     unchanging things you can only perceive with the mind--they are invisible
[1169]     and are not seen?
[1170]     
[1171]     That is very true, he said.
[1172]     
[1173]     Well, then, added Socrates, let us suppose that there are two sorts of
[1174]     existences--one seen, the other unseen.
[1175]     
[1176]     Let us suppose them.
[1177]     
[1178]     The seen is the changing, and the unseen is the unchanging?
[1179]     
[1180]     That may be also supposed.
[1181]     
[1182]     And, further, is not one part of us body, another part soul?
[1183]     
[1184]     To be sure.
[1185]     
[1186]     And to which class is the body more alike and akin?
[1187]     
[1188]     Clearly to the seen--no one can doubt that.
[1189]     
[1190]     And is the soul seen or not seen?
[1191]     
[1192]     Not by man, Socrates.
[1193]     
[1194]     And what we mean by 'seen' and 'not seen' is that which is or is not
[1195]     visible to the eye of man?
[1196]     
[1197]     Yes, to the eye of man.
[1198]     
[1199]     And is the soul seen or not seen?
[1200]     
[1201]     Not seen.
[1202]     
[1203]     Unseen then?
[1204]     
[1205]     Yes.
[1206]     
[1207]     Then the soul is more like to the unseen, and the body to the seen?
[1208]     
[1209]     That follows necessarily, Socrates.
[1210]     
[1211]     And were we not saying long ago that the soul when using the body as an
[1212]     instrument of perception, that is to say, when using the sense of sight or
[1213]     hearing or some other sense (for the meaning of perceiving through the body
[1214]     is perceiving through the senses)--were we not saying that the soul too is
[1215]     then dragged by the body into the region of the changeable, and wanders and
[1216]     is confused; the world spins round her, and she is like a drunkard, when
[1217]     she touches change?
[1218]     
[1219]     Very true.
[1220]     
[1221]     But when returning into herself she reflects, then she passes into the
[1222]     other world, the region of purity, and eternity, and immortality, and
[1223]     unchangeableness, which are her kindred, and with them she ever lives, when
[1224]     she is by herself and is not let or hindered; then she ceases from her
[1225]     erring ways, and being in communion with the unchanging is unchanging. And
[1226]     this state of the soul is called wisdom?
[1227]     
[1228]     That is well and truly said, Socrates, he replied.
[1229]     
[1230]     And to which class is the soul more nearly alike and akin, as far as may be
[1231]     inferred from this argument, as well as from the preceding one?
[1232]     
[1233]     I think, Socrates, that, in the opinion of every one who follows the
[1234]     argument, the soul will be infinitely more like the unchangeable--even the
[1235]     most stupid person will not deny that.
[1236]     
[1237]     And the body is more like the changing?
[1238]     
[1239]     Yes.
[1240]     
[1241]     Yet once more consider the matter in another light: When the soul and the
[1242]     body are united, then nature orders the soul to rule and govern, and the
[1243]     body to obey and serve. Now which of these two functions is akin to the
[1244]     divine? and which to the mortal? Does not the divine appear to you to be
[1245]     that which naturally orders and rules, and the mortal to be that which is
[1246]     subject and servant?
[1247]     
[1248]     True.
[1249]     
[1250]     And which does the soul resemble?
[1251]     
[1252]     The soul resembles the divine, and the body the mortal--there can be no
[1253]     doubt of that, Socrates.
[1254]     
[1255]     Then reflect, Cebes: of all which has been said is not this the
[1256]     conclusion?--that the soul is in the very likeness of the divine, and
[1257]     immortal, and intellectual, and uniform, and indissoluble, and
[1258]     unchangeable; and that the body is in the very likeness of the human, and
[1259]     mortal, and unintellectual, and multiform, and dissoluble, and changeable.
[1260]     Can this, my dear Cebes, be denied?
[1261]     
[1262]     It cannot.
[1263]     
[1264]     But if it be true, then is not the body liable to speedy dissolution? and
[1265]     is not the soul almost or altogether indissoluble?
[1266]     
[1267]     Certainly.
[1268]     
[1269]     And do you further observe, that after a man is dead, the body, or visible
[1270]     part of him, which is lying in the visible world, and is called a corpse,
[1271]     and would naturally be dissolved and decomposed and dissipated, is not
[1272]     dissolved or decomposed at once, but may remain for a for some time, nay
[1273]     even for a long time, if the constitution be sound at the time of death,
[1274]     and the season of the year favourable? For the body when shrunk and
[1275]     embalmed, as the manner is in Egypt, may remain almost entire through
[1276]     infinite ages; and even in decay, there are still some portions, such as
[1277]     the bones and ligaments, which are practically indestructible:--Do you
[1278]     agree?
[1279]     
[1280]     Yes.
[1281]     
[1282]     And is it likely that the soul, which is invisible, in passing to the place
[1283]     of the true Hades, which like her is invisible, and pure, and noble, and on
[1284]     her way to the good and wise God, whither, if God will, my soul is also
[1285]     soon to go,--that the soul, I repeat, if this be her nature and origin,
[1286]     will be blown away and destroyed immediately on quitting the body, as the
[1287]     many say? That can never be, my dear Simmias and Cebes. The truth rather
[1288]     is, that the soul which is pure at departing and draws after her no bodily
[1289]     taint, having never voluntarily during life had connection with the body,
[1290]     which she is ever avoiding, herself gathered into herself;--and making such
[1291]     abstraction her perpetual study--which means that she has been a true
[1292]     disciple of philosophy; and therefore has in fact been always engaged in
[1293]     the practice of dying? For is not philosophy the practice of death?--
[1294]     
[1295]     Certainly--
[1296]     
[1297]     That soul, I say, herself invisible, departs to the invisible world--to the
[1298]     divine and immortal and rational: thither arriving, she is secure of bliss
[1299]     and is released from the error and folly of men, their fears and wild
[1300]     passions and all other human ills, and for ever dwells, as they say of the
[1301]     initiated, in company with the gods (compare Apol.). Is not this true,
[1302]     Cebes?
[1303]     
[1304]     Yes, said Cebes, beyond a doubt.
[1305]     
[1306]     But the soul which has been polluted, and is impure at the time of her
[1307]     departure, and is the companion and servant of the body always, and is in
[1308]     love with and fascinated by the body and by the desires and pleasures of
[1309]     the body, until she is led to believe that the truth only exists in a
[1310]     bodily form, which a man may touch and see and taste, and use for the
[1311]     purposes of his lusts,--the soul, I mean, accustomed to hate and fear and
[1312]     avoid the intellectual principle, which to the bodily eye is dark and
[1313]     invisible, and can be attained only by philosophy;--do you suppose that
[1314]     such a soul will depart pure and unalloyed?
[1315]     
[1316]     Impossible, he replied.
[1317]     
[1318]     She is held fast by the corporeal, which the continual association and
[1319]     constant care of the body have wrought into her nature.
[1320]     
[1321]     Very true.
[1322]     
[1323]     And this corporeal element, my friend, is heavy and weighty and earthy, and
[1324]     is that element of sight by which a soul is depressed and dragged down
[1325]     again into the visible world, because she is afraid of the invisible and of
[1326]     the world below--prowling about tombs and sepulchres, near which, as they
[1327]     tell us, are seen certain ghostly apparitions of souls which have not
[1328]     departed pure, but are cloyed with sight and therefore visible.
[1329]     
[1330]     (Compare Milton, Comus:--
[1331]     
[1332]     'But when lust,
[1333]     By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk,
[1334]     But most by lewd and lavish act of sin,
[1335]     Lets in defilement to the inward parts,
[1336]     The soul grows clotted by contagion,
[1337]     Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose,
[1338]     The divine property of her first being.
[1339]     Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp
[1340]     Oft seen in charnel vaults and sepulchres,
[1341]     Lingering, and sitting by a new made grave,
[1342]     As loath to leave the body that it lov'd,
[1343]     And linked itself by carnal sensuality
[1344]     To a degenerate and degraded state.')
[1345]     
[1346]     That is very likely, Socrates.
[1347]     
[1348]     Yes, that is very likely, Cebes; and these must be the souls, not of the
[1349]     good, but of the evil, which are compelled to wander about such places in
[1350]     payment of the penalty of their former evil way of life; and they continue
[1351]     to wander until through the craving after the corporeal which never leaves
[1352]     them, they are imprisoned finally in another body. And they may be
[1353]     supposed to find their prisons in the same natures which they have had in
[1354]     their former lives.
[1355]     
[1356]     What natures do you mean, Socrates?
[1357]     
[1358]     What I mean is that men who have followed after gluttony, and wantonness,
[1359]     and drunkenness, and have had no thought of avoiding them, would pass into
[1360]     asses and animals of that sort. What do you think?
[1361]     
[1362]     I think such an opinion to be exceedingly probable.
[1363]     
[1364]     And those who have chosen the portion of injustice, and tyranny, and
[1365]     violence, will pass into wolves, or into hawks and kites;--whither else can
[1366]     we suppose them to go?
[1367]     
[1368]     Yes, said Cebes; with such natures, beyond question.
[1369]     
[1370]     And there is no difficulty, he said, in assigning to all of them places
[1371]     answering to their several natures and propensities?
[1372]     
[1373]     There is not, he said.
[1374]     
[1375]     Some are happier than others; and the happiest both in themselves and in
[1376]     the place to which they go are those who have practised the civil and
[1377]     social virtues which are called temperance and justice, and are acquired by
[1378]     habit and attention without philosophy and mind. (Compare Republic.)
[1379]     
[1380]     Why are they the happiest?
[1381]     
[1382]     Because they may be expected to pass into some gentle and social kind which
[1383]     is like their own, such as bees or wasps or ants, or back again into the
[1384]     form of man, and just and moderate men may be supposed to spring from them.
[1385]     
[1386]     Very likely.
[1387]     
[1388]     No one who has not studied philosophy and who is not entirely pure at the
[1389]     time of his departure is allowed to enter the company of the Gods, but the
[1390]     lover of knowledge only. And this is the reason, Simmias and Cebes, why
[1391]     the true votaries of philosophy abstain from all fleshly lusts, and hold
[1392]     out against them and refuse to give themselves up to them,--not because
[1393]     they fear poverty or the ruin of their families, like the lovers of money,
[1394]     and the world in general; nor like the lovers of power and honour, because
[1395]     they dread the dishonour or disgrace of evil deeds.
[1396]     
[1397]     No, Socrates, that would not become them, said Cebes.
[1398]     
[1399]     No indeed, he replied; and therefore they who have any care of their own
[1400]     souls, and do not merely live moulding and fashioning the body, say
[1401]     farewell to all this; they will not walk in the ways of the blind: and
[1402]     when philosophy offers them purification and release from evil, they feel
[1403]     that they ought not to resist her influence, and whither she leads they
[1404]     turn and follow.
[1405]     
[1406]     What do you mean, Socrates?
[1407]     
[1408]     I will tell you, he said. The lovers of knowledge are conscious that the
[1409]     soul was simply fastened and glued to the body--until philosophy received
[1410]     her, she could only view real existence through the bars of a prison, not
[1411]     in and through herself; she was wallowing in the mire of every sort of
[1412]     ignorance; and by reason of lust had become the principal accomplice in her
[1413]     own captivity. This was her original state; and then, as I was saying, and
[1414]     as the lovers of knowledge are well aware, philosophy, seeing how terrible
[1415]     was her confinement, of which she was to herself the cause, received and
[1416]     gently comforted her and sought to release her, pointing out that the eye
[1417]     and the ear and the other senses are full of deception, and persuading her
[1418]     to retire from them, and abstain from all but the necessary use of them,
[1419]     and be gathered up and collected into herself, bidding her trust in herself
[1420]     and her own pure apprehension of pure existence, and to mistrust whatever
[1421]     comes to her through other channels and is subject to variation; for such
[1422]     things are visible and tangible, but what she sees in her own nature is
[1423]     intelligible and invisible. And the soul of the true philosopher thinks
[1424]     that she ought not to resist this deliverance, and therefore abstains from
[1425]     pleasures and desires and pains and fears, as far as she is able;
[1426]     reflecting that when a man has great joys or sorrows or fears or desires,
[1427]     he suffers from them, not merely the sort of evil which might be
[1428]     anticipated--as for example, the loss of his health or property which he
[1429]     has sacrificed to his lusts--but an evil greater far, which is the greatest
[1430]     and worst of all evils, and one of which he never thinks.
[1431]     
[1432]     What is it, Socrates? said Cebes.
[1433]     
[1434]     The evil is that when the feeling of pleasure or pain is most intense,
[1435]     every soul of man imagines the objects of this intense feeling to be then
[1436]     plainest and truest: but this is not so, they are really the things of
[1437]     sight.
[1438]     
[1439]     Very true.
[1440]     
[1441]     And is not this the state in which the soul is most enthralled by the body?
[1442]     
[1443]     How so?
[1444]     
[1445]     Why, because each pleasure and pain is a sort of nail which nails and
[1446]     rivets the soul to the body, until she becomes like the body, and believes
[1447]     that to be true which the body affirms to be true; and from agreeing with
[1448]     the body and having the same delights she is obliged to have the same
[1449]     habits and haunts, and is not likely ever to be pure at her departure to
[1450]     the world below, but is always infected by the body; and so she sinks into
[1451]     another body and there germinates and grows, and has therefore no part in
[1452]     the communion of the divine and pure and simple.
[1453]     
[1454]     Most true, Socrates, answered Cebes.
[1455]     
[1456]     And this, Cebes, is the reason why the true lovers of knowledge are
[1457]     temperate and brave; and not for the reason which the world gives.
[1458]     
[1459]     Certainly not.
[1460]     
[1461]     Certainly not! The soul of a philosopher will reason in quite another way;
[1462]     she will not ask philosophy to release her in order that when released she
[1463]     may deliver herself up again to the thraldom of pleasures and pains, doing
[1464]     a work only to be undone again, weaving instead of unweaving her Penelope's
[1465]     web. But she will calm passion, and follow reason, and dwell in the
[1466]     contemplation of her, beholding the true and divine (which is not matter of
[1467]     opinion), and thence deriving nourishment. Thus she seeks to live while
[1468]     she lives, and after death she hopes to go to her own kindred and to that
[1469]     which is like her, and to be freed from human ills. Never fear, Simmias
[1470]     and Cebes, that a soul which has been thus nurtured and has had these
[1471]     pursuits, will at her departure from the body be scattered and blown away
[1472]     by the winds and be nowhere and nothing.
[1473]     
[1474]     When Socrates had done speaking, for a considerable time there was silence;
[1475]     he himself appeared to be meditating, as most of us were, on what had been
[1476]     said; only Cebes and Simmias spoke a few words to one another. And
[1477]     Socrates observing them asked what they thought of the argument, and
[1478]     whether there was anything wanting? For, said he, there are many points
[1479]     still open to suspicion and attack, if any one were disposed to sift the
[1480]     matter thoroughly. Should you be considering some other matter I say no
[1481]     more, but if you are still in doubt do not hesitate to say exactly what you
[1482]     think, and let us have anything better which you can suggest; and if you
[1483]     think that I can be of any use, allow me to help you.
[1484]     
[1485]     Simmias said: I must confess, Socrates, that doubts did arise in our
[1486]     minds, and each of us was urging and inciting the other to put the question
[1487]     which we wanted to have answered and which neither of us liked to ask,
[1488]     fearing that our importunity might be troublesome under present at such a
[1489]     time.
[1490]     
[1491]     Socrates replied with a smile: O Simmias, what are you saying? I am not
[1492]     very likely to persuade other men that I do not regard my present situation
[1493]     as a misfortune, if I cannot even persuade you that I am no worse off now
[1494]     than at any other time in my life. Will you not allow that I have as much
[1495]     of the spirit of prophecy in me as the swans? For they, when they perceive
[1496]     that they must die, having sung all their life long, do then sing more
[1497]     lustily than ever, rejoicing in the thought that they are about to go away
[1498]     to the god whose ministers they are. But men, because they are themselves
[1499]     afraid of death, slanderously affirm of the swans that they sing a lament
[1500]     at the last, not considering that no bird sings when cold, or hungry, or in
[1501]     pain, not even the nightingale, nor the swallow, nor yet the hoopoe; which
[1502]     are said indeed to tune a lay of sorrow, although I do not believe this to
[1503]     be true of them any more than of the swans. But because they are sacred to
[1504]     Apollo, they have the gift of prophecy, and anticipate the good things of
[1505]     another world, wherefore they sing and rejoice in that day more than they
[1506]     ever did before. And I too, believing myself to be the consecrated servant
[1507]     of the same God, and the fellow-servant of the swans, and thinking that I
[1508]     have received from my master gifts of prophecy which are not inferior to
[1509]     theirs, would not go out of life less merrily than the swans. Never mind
[1510]     then, if this be your only objection, but speak and ask anything which you
[1511]     like, while the eleven magistrates of Athens allow.
[1512]     
[1513]     Very good, Socrates, said Simmias; then I will tell you my difficulty, and
[1514]     Cebes will tell you his. I feel myself, (and I daresay that you have the
[1515]     same feeling), how hard or rather impossible is the attainment of any
[1516]     certainty about questions such as these in the present life. And yet I
[1517]     should deem him a coward who did not prove what is said about them to the
[1518]     uttermost, or whose heart failed him before he had examined them on every
[1519]     side. For he should persevere until he has achieved one of two things:
[1520]     either he should discover, or be taught the truth about them; or, if this
[1521]     be impossible, I would have him take the best and most irrefragable of
[1522]     human theories, and let this be the raft upon which he sails through life--
[1523]     not without risk, as I admit, if he cannot find some word of God which will
[1524]     more surely and safely carry him. And now, as you bid me, I will venture
[1525]     to question you, and then I shall not have to reproach myself hereafter
[1526]     with not having said at the time what I think. For when I consider the
[1527]     matter, either alone or with Cebes, the argument does certainly appear to
[1528]     me, Socrates, to be not sufficient.
[1529]     
[1530]     Socrates answered: I dare say, my friend, that you may be right, but I
[1531]     should like to know in what respect the argument is insufficient.
[1532]     
[1533]     In this respect, replied Simmias:--Suppose a person to use the same
[1534]     argument about harmony and the lyre--might he not say that harmony is a
[1535]     thing invisible, incorporeal, perfect, divine, existing in the lyre which
[1536]     is harmonized, but that the lyre and the strings are matter and material,
[1537]     composite, earthy, and akin to mortality? And when some one breaks the
[1538]     lyre, or cuts and rends the strings, then he who takes this view would
[1539]     argue as you do, and on the same analogy, that the harmony survives and has
[1540]     not perished--you cannot imagine, he would say, that the lyre without the
[1541]     strings, and the broken strings themselves which are mortal remain, and yet
[1542]     that the harmony, which is of heavenly and immortal nature and kindred, has
[1543]     perished--perished before the mortal. The harmony must still be somewhere,
[1544]     and the wood and strings will decay before anything can happen to that.
[1545]     The thought, Socrates, must have occurred to your own mind that such is our
[1546]     conception of the soul; and that when the body is in a manner strung and
[1547]     held together by the elements of hot and cold, wet and dry, then the soul
[1548]     is the harmony or due proportionate admixture of them. But if so, whenever
[1549]     the strings of the body are unduly loosened or overstrained through disease
[1550]     or other injury, then the soul, though most divine, like other harmonies of
[1551]     music or of works of art, of course perishes at once, although the material
[1552]     remains of the body may last for a considerable time, until they are either
[1553]     decayed or burnt. And if any one maintains that the soul, being the
[1554]     harmony of the elements of the body, is first to perish in that which is
[1555]     called death, how shall we answer him?
[1556]     
[1557]     Socrates looked fixedly at us as his manner was, and said with a smile:
[1558]     Simmias has reason on his side; and why does not some one of you who is
[1559]     better able than myself answer him? for there is force in his attack upon
[1560]     me. But perhaps, before we answer him, we had better also hear what Cebes
[1561]     has to say that we may gain time for reflection, and when they have both
[1562]     spoken, we may either assent to them, if there is truth in what they say,
[1563]     or if not, we will maintain our position. Please to tell me then, Cebes,
[1564]     he said, what was the difficulty which troubled you?
[1565]     
[1566]     Cebes said: I will tell you. My feeling is that the argument is where it
[1567]     was, and open to the same objections which were urged before; for I am
[1568]     ready to admit that the existence of the soul before entering into the
[1569]     bodily form has been very ingeniously, and, if I may say so, quite
[1570]     sufficiently proven; but the existence of the soul after death is still, in
[1571]     my judgment, unproven. Now my objection is not the same as that of
[1572]     Simmias; for I am not disposed to deny that the soul is stronger and more
[1573]     lasting than the body, being of opinion that in all such respects the soul
[1574]     very far excels the body. Well, then, says the argument to me, why do you
[1575]     remain unconvinced?--When you see that the weaker continues in existence
[1576]     after the man is dead, will you not admit that the more lasting must also
[1577]     survive during the same period of time? Now I will ask you to consider
[1578]     whether the objection, which, like Simmias, I will express in a figure, is
[1579]     of any weight. The analogy which I will adduce is that of an old weaver,
[1580]     who dies, and after his death somebody says:--He is not dead, he must be
[1581]     alive;--see, there is the coat which he himself wove and wore, and which
[1582]     remains whole and undecayed. And then he proceeds to ask of some one who
[1583]     is incredulous, whether a man lasts longer, or the coat which is in use and
[1584]     wear; and when he is answered that a man lasts far longer, thinks that he
[1585]     has thus certainly demonstrated the survival of the man, who is the more
[1586]     lasting, because the less lasting remains. But that, Simmias, as I would
[1587]     beg you to remark, is a mistake; any one can see that he who talks thus is
[1588]     talking nonsense. For the truth is, that the weaver aforesaid, having
[1589]     woven and worn many such coats, outlived several of them, and was outlived
[1590]     by the last; but a man is not therefore proved to be slighter and weaker
[1591]     than a coat. Now the relation of the body to the soul may be expressed in
[1592]     a similar figure; and any one may very fairly say in like manner that the
[1593]     soul is lasting, and the body weak and shortlived in comparison. He may
[1594]     argue in like manner that every soul wears out many bodies, especially if a
[1595]     man live many years. While he is alive the body deliquesces and decays,
[1596]     and the soul always weaves another garment and repairs the waste. But of
[1597]     course, whenever the soul perishes, she must have on her last garment, and
[1598]     this will survive her; and then at length, when the soul is dead, the body
[1599]     will show its native weakness, and quickly decompose and pass away. I
[1600]     would therefore rather not rely on the argument from superior strength to
[1601]     prove the continued existence of the soul after death. For granting even
[1602]     more than you affirm to be possible, and acknowledging not only that the
[1603]     soul existed before birth, but also that the souls of some exist, and will
[1604]     continue to exist after death, and will be born and die again and again,
[1605]     and that there is a natural strength in the soul which will hold out and be
[1606]     born many times--nevertheless, we may be still inclined to think that she
[1607]     will weary in the labours of successive births, and may at last succumb in
[1608]     one of her deaths and utterly perish; and this death and dissolution of the
[1609]     body which brings destruction to the soul may be unknown to any of us, for
[1610]     no one of us can have had any experience of it: and if so, then I maintain
[1611]     that he who is confident about death has but a foolish confidence, unless
[1612]     he is able to prove that the soul is altogether immortal and imperishable.
[1613]     But if he cannot prove the soul's immortality, he who is about to die will
[1614]     always have reason to fear that when the body is disunited, the soul also
[1615]     may utterly perish.
[1616]     
[1617]     All of us, as we afterwards remarked to one another, had an unpleasant
[1618]     feeling at hearing what they said. When we had been so firmly convinced
[1619]     before, now to have our faith shaken seemed to introduce a confusion and
[1620]     uncertainty, not only into the previous argument, but into any future one;
[1621]     either we were incapable of forming a judgment, or there were no grounds of
[1622]     belief.
[1623]     
[1624]     ECHECRATES: There I feel with you--by heaven I do, Phaedo, and when you
[1625]     were speaking, I was beginning to ask myself the same question: What
[1626]     argument can I ever trust again? For what could be more convincing than
[1627]     the argument of Socrates, which has now fallen into discredit? That the
[1628]     soul is a harmony is a doctrine which has always had a wonderful attraction
[1629]     for me, and, when mentioned, came back to me at once, as my own original
[1630]     conviction. And now I must begin again and find another argument which
[1631]     will assure me that when the man is dead the soul survives. Tell me, I
[1632]     implore you, how did Socrates proceed? Did he appear to share the
[1633]     unpleasant feeling which you mention? or did he calmly meet the attack?
[1634]     And did he answer forcibly or feebly? Narrate what passed as exactly as
[1635]     you can.
[1636]     
[1637]     PHAEDO: Often, Echecrates, I have wondered at Socrates, but never more
[1638]     than on that occasion. That he should be able to answer was nothing, but
[1639]     what astonished me was, first, the gentle and pleasant and approving manner
[1640]     in which he received the words of the young men, and then his quick sense
[1641]     of the wound which had been inflicted by the argument, and the readiness
[1642]     with which he healed it. He might be compared to a general rallying his
[1643]     defeated and broken army, urging them to accompany him and return to the
[1644]     field of argument.
[1645]     
[1646]     ECHECRATES: What followed?
[1647]     
[1648]     PHAEDO: You shall hear, for I was close to him on his right hand, seated
[1649]     on a sort of stool, and he on a couch which was a good deal higher. He
[1650]     stroked my head, and pressed the hair upon my neck--he had a way of playing
[1651]     with my hair; and then he said: To-morrow, Phaedo, I suppose that these
[1652]     fair locks of yours will be severed.
[1653]     
[1654]     Yes, Socrates, I suppose that they will, I replied.
[1655]     
[1656]     Not so, if you will take my advice.
[1657]     
[1658]     What shall I do with them? I said.
[1659]     
[1660]     To-day, he replied, and not to-morrow, if this argument dies and we cannot
[1661]     bring it to life again, you and I will both shave our locks; and if I were
[1662]     you, and the argument got away from me, and I could not hold my ground
[1663]     against Simmias and Cebes, I would myself take an oath, like the Argives,
[1664]     not to wear hair any more until I had renewed the conflict and defeated
[1665]     them.
[1666]     
[1667]     Yes, I said, but Heracles himself is said not to be a match for two.
[1668]     
[1669]     Summon me then, he said, and I will be your Iolaus until the sun goes down.
[1670]     
[1671]     I summon you rather, I rejoined, not as Heracles summoning Iolaus, but as
[1672]     Iolaus might summon Heracles.
[1673]     
[1674]     That will do as well, he said. But first let us take care that we avoid a
[1675]     danger.
[1676]     
[1677]     Of what nature? I said.
[1678]     
[1679]     Lest we become misologists, he replied, no worse thing can happen to a man
[1680]     than this. For as there are misanthropists or haters of men, there are
[1681]     also misologists or haters of ideas, and both spring from the same cause,
[1682]     which is ignorance of the world. Misanthropy arises out of the too great
[1683]     confidence of inexperience;--you trust a man and think him altogether true
[1684]     and sound and faithful, and then in a little while he turns out to be false
[1685]     and knavish; and then another and another, and when this has happened
[1686]     several times to a man, especially when it happens among those whom he
[1687]     deems to be his own most trusted and familiar friends, and he has often
[1688]     quarreled with them, he at last hates all men, and believes that no one has
[1689]     any good in him at all. You must have observed this trait of character?
[1690]     
[1691]     I have.
[1692]     
[1693]     And is not the feeling discreditable? Is it not obvious that such an one
[1694]     having to deal with other men, was clearly without any experience of human
[1695]     nature; for experience would have taught him the true state of the case,
[1696]     that few are the good and few the evil, and that the great majority are in
[1697]     the interval between them.
[1698]     
[1699]     What do you mean? I said.
[1700]     
[1701]     I mean, he replied, as you might say of the very large and very small, that
[1702]     nothing is more uncommon than a very large or very small man; and this
[1703]     applies generally to all extremes, whether of great and small, or swift and
[1704]     slow, or fair and foul, or black and white: and whether the instances you
[1705]     select be men or dogs or anything else, few are the extremes, but many are
[1706]     in the mean between them. Did you never observe this?
[1707]     
[1708]     Yes, I said, I have.
[1709]     
[1710]     And do you not imagine, he said, that if there were a competition in evil,
[1711]     the worst would be found to be very few?
[1712]     
[1713]     Yes, that is very likely, I said.
[1714]     
[1715]     Yes, that is very likely, he replied; although in this respect arguments
[1716]     are unlike men--there I was led on by you to say more than I had intended;
[1717]     but the point of comparison was, that when a simple man who has no skill in
[1718]     dialectics believes an argument to be true which he afterwards imagines to
[1719]     be false, whether really false or not, and then another and another, he has
[1720]     no longer any faith left, and great disputers, as you know, come to think
[1721]     at last that they have grown to be the wisest of mankind; for they alone
[1722]     perceive the utter unsoundness and instability of all arguments, or indeed,
[1723]     of all things, which, like the currents in the Euripus, are going up and
[1724]     down in never-ceasing ebb and flow.
[1725]     
[1726]     That is quite true, I said.
[1727]     
[1728]     Yes, Phaedo, he replied, and how melancholy, if there be such a thing as
[1729]     truth or certainty or possibility of knowledge--that a man should have
[1730]     lighted upon some argument or other which at first seemed true and then
[1731]     turned out to be false, and instead of blaming himself and his own want of
[1732]     wit, because he is annoyed, should at last be too glad to transfer the
[1733]     blame from himself to arguments in general: and for ever afterwards should
[1734]     hate and revile them, and lose truth and the knowledge of realities.
[1735]     
[1736]     Yes, indeed, I said; that is very melancholy.
[1737]     
[1738]     Let us then, in the first place, he said, be careful of allowing or of
[1739]     admitting into our souls the notion that there is no health or soundness in
[1740]     any arguments at all. Rather say that we have not yet attained to
[1741]     soundness in ourselves, and that we must struggle manfully and do our best
[1742]     to gain health of mind--you and all other men having regard to the whole of
[1743]     your future life, and I myself in the prospect of death. For at this
[1744]     moment I am sensible that I have not the temper of a philosopher; like the
[1745]     vulgar, I am only a partisan. Now the partisan, when he is engaged in a
[1746]     dispute, cares nothing about the rights of the question, but is anxious
[1747]     only to convince his hearers of his own assertions. And the difference
[1748]     between him and me at the present moment is merely this--that whereas he
[1749]     seeks to convince his hearers that what he says is true, I am rather
[1750]     seeking to convince myself; to convince my hearers is a secondary matter
[1751]     with me. And do but see how much I gain by the argument. For if what I
[1752]     say is true, then I do well to be persuaded of the truth, but if there be
[1753]     nothing after death, still, during the short time that remains, I shall not
[1754]     distress my friends with lamentations, and my ignorance will not last, but
[1755]     will die with me, and therefore no harm will be done. This is the state of
[1756]     mind, Simmias and Cebes, in which I approach the argument. And I would ask
[1757]     you to be thinking of the truth and not of Socrates: agree with me, if I
[1758]     seem to you to be speaking the truth; or if not, withstand me might and
[1759]     main, that I may not deceive you as well as myself in my enthusiasm, and
[1760]     like the bee, leave my sting in you before I die.
[1761]     
[1762]     And now let us proceed, he said. And first of all let me be sure that I
[1763]     have in my mind what you were saying. Simmias, if I remember rightly, has
[1764]     fears and misgivings whether the soul, although a fairer and diviner thing
[1765]     than the body, being as she is in the form of harmony, may not perish
[1766]     first. On the other hand, Cebes appeared to grant that the soul was more
[1767]     lasting than the body, but he said that no one could know whether the soul,
[1768]     after having worn out many bodies, might not perish herself and leave her
[1769]     last body behind her; and that this is death, which is the destruction not
[1770]     of the body but of the soul, for in the body the work of destruction is
[1771]     ever going on. Are not these, Simmias and Cebes, the points which we have
[1772]     to consider?
[1773]     
[1774]     They both agreed to this statement of them.
[1775]     
[1776]     He proceeded: And did you deny the force of the whole preceding argument,
[1777]     or of a part only?
[1778]     
[1779]     Of a part only, they replied.
[1780]     
[1781]     And what did you think, he said, of that part of the argument in which we
[1782]     said that knowledge was recollection, and hence inferred that the soul must
[1783]     have previously existed somewhere else before she was enclosed in the body?
[1784]     
[1785]     Cebes said that he had been wonderfully impressed by that part of the
[1786]     argument, and that his conviction remained absolutely unshaken. Simmias
[1787]     agreed, and added that he himself could hardly imagine the possibility of
[1788]     his ever thinking differently.
[1789]     
[1790]     But, rejoined Socrates, you will have to think differently, my Theban
[1791]     friend, if you still maintain that harmony is a compound, and that the soul
[1792]     is a harmony which is made out of strings set in the frame of the body; for
[1793]     you will surely never allow yourself to say that a harmony is prior to the
[1794]     elements which compose it.
[1795]     
[1796]     Never, Socrates.
[1797]     
[1798]     But do you not see that this is what you imply when you say that the soul
[1799]     existed before she took the form and body of man, and was made up of
[1800]     elements which as yet had no existence? For harmony is not like the soul,
[1801]     as you suppose; but first the lyre, and the strings, and the sounds exist
[1802]     in a state of discord, and then harmony is made last of all, and perishes
[1803]     first. And how can such a notion of the soul as this agree with the other?
[1804]     
[1805]     Not at all, replied Simmias.
[1806]     
[1807]     And yet, he said, there surely ought to be harmony in a discourse of which
[1808]     harmony is the theme.
[1809]     
[1810]     There ought, replied Simmias.
[1811]     
[1812]     But there is no harmony, he said, in the two propositions that knowledge is
[1813]     recollection, and that the soul is a harmony. Which of them will you
[1814]     retain?
[1815]     
[1816]     I think, he replied, that I have a much stronger faith, Socrates, in the
[1817]     first of the two, which has been fully demonstrated to me, than in the
[1818]     latter, which has not been demonstrated at all, but rests only on probable
[1819]     and plausible grounds; and is therefore believed by the many. I know too
[1820]     well that these arguments from probabilities are impostors, and unless
[1821]     great caution is observed in the use of them, they are apt to be deceptive
[1822]     --in geometry, and in other things too. But the doctrine of knowledge and
[1823]     recollection has been proven to me on trustworthy grounds; and the proof
[1824]     was that the soul must have existed before she came into the body, because
[1825]     to her belongs the essence of which the very name implies existence.
[1826]     Having, as I am convinced, rightly accepted this conclusion, and on
[1827]     sufficient grounds, I must, as I suppose, cease to argue or allow others to
[1828]     argue that the soul is a harmony.
[1829]     
[1830]     Let me put the matter, Simmias, he said, in another point of view: Do you
[1831]     imagine that a harmony or any other composition can be in a state other
[1832]     than that of the elements, out of which it is compounded?
[1833]     
[1834]     Certainly not.
[1835]     
[1836]     Or do or suffer anything other than they do or suffer?
[1837]     
[1838]     He agreed.
[1839]     
[1840]     Then a harmony does not, properly speaking, lead the parts or elements
[1841]     which make up the harmony, but only follows them.
[1842]     
[1843]     He assented.
[1844]     
[1845]     For harmony cannot possibly have any motion, or sound, or other quality
[1846]     which is opposed to its parts.
[1847]     
[1848]     That would be impossible, he replied.
[1849]     
[1850]     And does not the nature of every harmony depend upon the manner in which
[1851]     the elements are harmonized?
[1852]     
[1853]     I do not understand you, he said.
[1854]     
[1855]     I mean to say that a harmony admits of degrees, and is more of a harmony,
[1856]     and more completely a harmony, when more truly and fully harmonized, to any
[1857]     extent which is possible; and less of a harmony, and less completely a
[1858]     harmony, when less truly and fully harmonized.
[1859]     
[1860]     True.
[1861]     
[1862]     But does the soul admit of degrees? or is one soul in the very least degree
[1863]     more or less, or more or less completely, a soul than another?
[1864]     
[1865]     Not in the least.
[1866]     
[1867]     Yet surely of two souls, one is said to have intelligence and virtue, and
[1868]     to be good, and the other to have folly and vice, and to be an evil soul:
[1869]     and this is said truly?
[1870]     
[1871]     Yes, truly.
[1872]     
[1873]     But what will those who maintain the soul to be a harmony say of this
[1874]     presence of virtue and vice in the soul?--will they say that here is
[1875]     another harmony, and another discord, and that the virtuous soul is
[1876]     harmonized, and herself being a harmony has another harmony within her, and
[1877]     that the vicious soul is inharmonical and has no harmony within her?
[1878]     
[1879]     I cannot tell, replied Simmias; but I suppose that something of the sort
[1880]     would be asserted by those who say that the soul is a harmony.
[1881]     
[1882]     And we have already admitted that no soul is more a soul than another;
[1883]     which is equivalent to admitting that harmony is not more or less harmony,
[1884]     or more or less completely a harmony?
[1885]     
[1886]     Quite true.
[1887]     
[1888]     And that which is not more or less a harmony is not more or less
[1889]     harmonized?
[1890]     
[1891]     True.
[1892]     
[1893]     And that which is not more or less harmonized cannot have more or less of
[1894]     harmony, but only an equal harmony?
[1895]     
[1896]     Yes, an equal harmony.
[1897]     
[1898]     Then one soul not being more or less absolutely a soul than another, is not
[1899]     more or less harmonized?
[1900]     
[1901]     Exactly.
[1902]     
[1903]     And therefore has neither more nor less of discord, nor yet of harmony?
[1904]     
[1905]     She has not.
[1906]     
[1907]     And having neither more nor less of harmony or of discord, one soul has no
[1908]     more vice or virtue than another, if vice be discord and virtue harmony?
[1909]     
[1910]     Not at all more.
[1911]     
[1912]     Or speaking more correctly, Simmias, the soul, if she is a harmony, will
[1913]     never have any vice; because a harmony, being absolutely a harmony, has no
[1914]     part in the inharmonical.
[1915]     
[1916]     No.
[1917]     
[1918]     And therefore a soul which is absolutely a soul has no vice?
[1919]     
[1920]     How can she have, if the previous argument holds?
[1921]     
[1922]     Then, if all souls are equally by their nature souls, all souls of all
[1923]     living creatures will be equally good?
[1924]     
[1925]     I agree with you, Socrates, he said.
[1926]     
[1927]     And can all this be true, think you? he said; for these are the
[1928]     consequences which seem to follow from the assumption that the soul is a
[1929]     harmony?
[1930]     
[1931]     It cannot be true.
[1932]     
[1933]     Once more, he said, what ruler is there of the elements of human nature
[1934]     other than the soul, and especially the wise soul? Do you know of any?
[1935]     
[1936]     Indeed, I do not.
[1937]     
[1938]     And is the soul in agreement with the affections of the body? or is she at
[1939]     variance with them? For example, when the body is hot and thirsty, does
[1940]     not the soul incline us against drinking? and when the body is hungry,
[1941]     against eating? And this is only one instance out of ten thousand of the
[1942]     opposition of the soul to the things of the body.
[1943]     
[1944]     Very true.
[1945]     
[1946]     But we have already acknowledged that the soul, being a harmony, can never
[1947]     utter a note at variance with the tensions and relaxations and vibrations
[1948]     and other affections of the strings out of which she is composed; she can
[1949]     only follow, she cannot lead them?
[1950]     
[1951]     It must be so, he replied.
[1952]     
[1953]     And yet do we not now discover the soul to be doing the exact opposite--
[1954]     leading the elements of which she is believed to be composed; almost always
[1955]     opposing and coercing them in all sorts of ways throughout life, sometimes
[1956]     more violently with the pains of medicine and gymnastic; then again more
[1957]     gently; now threatening, now admonishing the desires, passions, fears, as
[1958]     if talking to a thing which is not herself, as Homer in the Odyssee
[1959]     represents Odysseus doing in the words--
[1960]     
[1961]     'He beat his breast, and thus reproached his heart:
[1962]     Endure, my heart; far worse hast thou endured!'
[1963]     
[1964]     Do you think that Homer wrote this under the idea that the soul is a
[1965]     harmony capable of being led by the affections of the body, and not rather
[1966]     of a nature which should lead and master them--herself a far diviner thing
[1967]     than any harmony?
[1968]     
[1969]     Yes, Socrates, I quite think so.
[1970]     
[1971]     Then, my friend, we can never be right in saying that the soul is a
[1972]     harmony, for we should contradict the divine Homer, and contradict
[1973]     ourselves.
[1974]     
[1975]     True, he said.
[1976]     
[1977]     Thus much, said Socrates, of Harmonia, your Theban goddess, who has
[1978]     graciously yielded to us; but what shall I say, Cebes, to her husband
[1979]     Cadmus, and how shall I make peace with him?
[1980]     
[1981]     I think that you will discover a way of propitiating him, said Cebes; I am
[1982]     sure that you have put the argument with Harmonia in a manner that I could
[1983]     never have expected. For when Simmias was mentioning his difficulty, I
[1984]     quite imagined that no answer could be given to him, and therefore I was
[1985]     surprised at finding that his argument could not sustain the first onset of
[1986]     yours, and not impossibly the other, whom you call Cadmus, may share a
[1987]     similar fate.
[1988]     
[1989]     Nay, my good friend, said Socrates, let us not boast, lest some evil eye
[1990]     should put to flight the word which I am about to speak. That, however,
[1991]     may be left in the hands of those above, while I draw near in Homeric
[1992]     fashion, and try the mettle of your words. Here lies the point:--You want
[1993]     to have it proven to you that the soul is imperishable and immortal, and
[1994]     the philosopher who is confident in death appears to you to have but a vain
[1995]     and foolish confidence, if he believes that he will fare better in the
[1996]     world below than one who has led another sort of life, unless he can prove
[1997]     this; and you say that the demonstration of the strength and divinity of
[1998]     the soul, and of her existence prior to our becoming men, does not
[1999]     necessarily imply her immortality. Admitting the soul to be longlived, and
[2000]     to have known and done much in a former state, still she is not on that
[2001]     account immortal; and her entrance into the human form may be a sort of
[2002]     disease which is the beginning of dissolution, and may at last, after the
[2003]     toils of life are over, end in that which is called death. And whether the
[2004]     soul enters into the body once only or many times, does not, as you say,
[2005]     make any difference in the fears of individuals. For any man, who is not
[2006]     devoid of sense, must fear, if he has no knowledge and can give no account
[2007]     of the soul's immortality. This, or something like this, I suspect to be
[2008]     your notion, Cebes; and I designedly recur to it in order that nothing may
[2009]     escape us, and that you may, if you wish, add or subtract anything.
[2010]     
[2011]     But, said Cebes, as far as I see at present, I have nothing to add or
[2012]     subtract: I mean what you say that I mean.
[2013]     
[2014]     Socrates paused awhile, and seemed to be absorbed in reflection. At length
[2015]     he said: You are raising a tremendous question, Cebes, involving the whole
[2016]     nature of generation and corruption, about which, if you like, I will give
[2017]     you my own experience; and if anything which I say is likely to avail
[2018]     towards the solution of your difficulty you may make use of it.
[2019]     
[2020]     I should very much like, said Cebes, to hear what you have to say.
[2021]     
[2022]     Then I will tell you, said Socrates. When I was young, Cebes, I had a
[2023]     prodigious desire to know that department of philosophy which is called the
[2024]     investigation of nature; to know the causes of things, and why a thing is
[2025]     and is created or destroyed appeared to me to be a lofty profession; and I
[2026]     was always agitating myself with the consideration of questions such as
[2027]     these:--Is the growth of animals the result of some decay which the hot and
[2028]     cold principle contracts, as some have said? Is the blood the element with
[2029]     which we think, or the air, or the fire? or perhaps nothing of the kind--
[2030]     but the brain may be the originating power of the perceptions of hearing
[2031]     and sight and smell, and memory and opinion may come from them, and science
[2032]     may be based on memory and opinion when they have attained fixity. And
[2033]     then I went on to examine the corruption of them, and then to the things of
[2034]     heaven and earth, and at last I concluded myself to be utterly and
[2035]     absolutely incapable of these enquiries, as I will satisfactorily prove to
[2036]     you. For I was fascinated by them to such a degree that my eyes grew blind
[2037]     to things which I had seemed to myself, and also to others, to know quite
[2038]     well; I forgot what I had before thought self-evident truths; e.g. such a
[2039]     fact as that the growth of man is the result of eating and drinking; for
[2040]     when by the digestion of food flesh is added to flesh and bone to bone, and
[2041]     whenever there is an aggregation of congenial elements, the lesser bulk
[2042]     becomes larger and the small man great. Was not that a reasonable notion?
[2043]     
[2044]     Yes, said Cebes, I think so.
[2045]     
[2046]     Well; but let me tell you something more. There was a time when I thought
[2047]     that I understood the meaning of greater and less pretty well; and when I
[2048]     saw a great man standing by a little one, I fancied that one was taller
[2049]     than the other by a head; or one horse would appear to be greater than
[2050]     another horse: and still more clearly did I seem to perceive that ten is
[2051]     two more than eight, and that two cubits are more than one, because two is
[2052]     the double of one.
[2053]     
[2054]     And what is now your notion of such matters? said Cebes.
[2055]     
[2056]     I should be far enough from imagining, he replied, that I knew the cause of
[2057]     any of them, by heaven I should; for I cannot satisfy myself that, when one
[2058]     is added to one, the one to which the addition is made becomes two, or that
[2059]     the two units added together make two by reason of the addition. I cannot
[2060]     understand how, when separated from the other, each of them was one and not
[2061]     two, and now, when they are brought together, the mere juxtaposition or
[2062]     meeting of them should be the cause of their becoming two: neither can I
[2063]     understand how the division of one is the way to make two; for then a
[2064]     different cause would produce the same effect,--as in the former instance
[2065]     the addition and juxtaposition of one to one was the cause of two, in this
[2066]     the separation and subtraction of one from the other would be the cause.
[2067]     Nor am I any longer satisfied that I understand the reason why one or
[2068]     anything else is either generated or destroyed or is at all, but I have in
[2069]     my mind some confused notion of a new method, and can never admit the
[2070]     other.
[2071]     
[2072]     Then I heard some one reading, as he said, from a book of Anaxagoras, that
[2073]     mind was the disposer and cause of all, and I was delighted at this notion,
[2074]     which appeared quite admirable, and I said to myself: If mind is the
[2075]     disposer, mind will dispose all for the best, and put each particular in
[2076]     the best place; and I argued that if any one desired to find out the cause
[2077]     of the generation or destruction or existence of anything, he must find out
[2078]     what state of being or doing or suffering was best for that thing, and
[2079]     therefore a man had only to consider the best for himself and others, and
[2080]     then he would also know the worse, since the same science comprehended
[2081]     both. And I rejoiced to think that I had found in Anaxagoras a teacher of
[2082]     the causes of existence such as I desired, and I imagined that he would
[2083]     tell me first whether the earth is flat or round; and whichever was true,
[2084]     he would proceed to explain the cause and the necessity of this being so,
[2085]     and then he would teach me the nature of the best and show that this was
[2086]     best; and if he said that the earth was in the centre, he would further
[2087]     explain that this position was the best, and I should be satisfied with the
[2088]     explanation given, and not want any other sort of cause. And I thought
[2089]     that I would then go on and ask him about the sun and moon and stars, and
[2090]     that he would explain to me their comparative swiftness, and their
[2091]     returnings and various states, active and passive, and how all of them were
[2092]     for the best. For I could not imagine that when he spoke of mind as the
[2093]     disposer of them, he would give any other account of their being as they
[2094]     are, except that this was best; and I thought that when he had explained to
[2095]     me in detail the cause of each and the cause of all, he would go on to
[2096]     explain to me what was best for each and what was good for all. These
[2097]     hopes I would not have sold for a large sum of money, and I seized the
[2098]     books and read them as fast as I could in my eagerness to know the better
[2099]     and the worse.
[2100]     
[2101]     What expectations I had formed, and how grievously was I disappointed! As
[2102]     I proceeded, I found my philosopher altogether forsaking mind or any other
[2103]     principle of order, but having recourse to air, and ether, and water, and
[2104]     other eccentricities. I might compare him to a person who began by
[2105]     maintaining generally that mind is the cause of the actions of Socrates,
[2106]     but who, when he endeavoured to explain the causes of my several actions in
[2107]     detail, went on to show that I sit here because my body is made up of bones
[2108]     and muscles; and the bones, as he would say, are hard and have joints which
[2109]     divide them, and the muscles are elastic, and they cover the bones, which
[2110]     have also a covering or environment of flesh and skin which contains them;
[2111]     and as the bones are lifted at their joints by the contraction or
[2112]     relaxation of the muscles, I am able to bend my limbs, and this is why I am
[2113]     sitting here in a curved posture--that is what he would say, and he would
[2114]     have a similar explanation of my talking to you, which he would attribute
[2115]     to sound, and air, and hearing, and he would assign ten thousand other
[2116]     causes of the same sort, forgetting to mention the true cause, which is,
[2117]     that the Athenians have thought fit to condemn me, and accordingly I have
[2118]     thought it better and more right to remain here and undergo my sentence;
[2119]     for I am inclined to think that these muscles and bones of mine would have
[2120]     gone off long ago to Megara or Boeotia--by the dog they would, if they had
[2121]     been moved only by their own idea of what was best, and if I had not chosen
[2122]     the better and nobler part, instead of playing truant and running away, of
[2123]     enduring any punishment which the state inflicts. There is surely a
[2124]     strange confusion of causes and conditions in all this. It may be said,
[2125]     indeed, that without bones and muscles and the other parts of the body I
[2126]     cannot execute my purposes. But to say that I do as I do because of them,
[2127]     and that this is the way in which mind acts, and not from the choice of the
[2128]     best, is a very careless and idle mode of speaking. I wonder that they
[2129]     cannot distinguish the cause from the condition, which the many, feeling
[2130]     about in the dark, are always mistaking and misnaming. And thus one man
[2131]     makes a vortex all round and steadies the earth by the heaven; another
[2132]     gives the air as a support to the earth, which is a sort of broad trough.
[2133]     Any power which in arranging them as they are arranges them for the best
[2134]     never enters into their minds; and instead of finding any superior strength
[2135]     in it, they rather expect to discover another Atlas of the world who is
[2136]     stronger and more everlasting and more containing than the good;--of the
[2137]     obligatory and containing power of the good they think nothing; and yet
[2138]     this is the principle which I would fain learn if any one would teach me.
[2139]     But as I have failed either to discover myself, or to learn of any one
[2140]     else, the nature of the best, I will exhibit to you, if you like, what I
[2141]     have found to be the second best mode of enquiring into the cause.
[2142]     
[2143]     I should very much like to hear, he replied.
[2144]     
[2145]     Socrates proceeded:--I thought that as I had failed in the contemplation of
[2146]     true existence, I ought to be careful that I did not lose the eye of my
[2147]     soul; as people may injure their bodily eye by observing and gazing on the
[2148]     sun during an eclipse, unless they take the precaution of only looking at
[2149]     the image reflected in the water, or in some similar medium. So in my own
[2150]     case, I was afraid that my soul might be blinded altogether if I looked at
[2151]     things with my eyes or tried to apprehend them by the help of the senses.
[2152]     And I thought that I had better have recourse to the world of mind and seek
[2153]     there the truth of existence. I dare say that the simile is not perfect--
[2154]     for I am very far from admitting that he who contemplates existences
[2155]     through the medium of thought, sees them only 'through a glass darkly,' any
[2156]     more than he who considers them in action and operation. However, this was
[2157]     the method which I adopted: I first assumed some principle which I judged
[2158]     to be the strongest, and then I affirmed as true whatever seemed to agree
[2159]     with this, whether relating to the cause or to anything else; and that
[2160]     which disagreed I regarded as untrue. But I should like to explain my
[2161]     meaning more clearly, as I do not think that you as yet understand me.
[2162]     
[2163]     No indeed, replied Cebes, not very well.
[2164]     
[2165]     There is nothing new, he said, in what I am about to tell you; but only
[2166]     what I have been always and everywhere repeating in the previous discussion
[2167]     and on other occasions: I want to show you the nature of that cause which
[2168]     has occupied my thoughts. I shall have to go back to those familiar words
[2169]     which are in the mouth of every one, and first of all assume that there is
[2170]     an absolute beauty and goodness and greatness, and the like; grant me this,
[2171]     and I hope to be able to show you the nature of the cause, and to prove the
[2172]     immortality of the soul.
[2173]     
[2174]     Cebes said: You may proceed at once with the proof, for I grant you this.
[2175]     
[2176]     Well, he said, then I should like to know whether you agree with me in the
[2177]     next step; for I cannot help thinking, if there be anything beautiful other
[2178]     than absolute beauty should there be such, that it can be beautiful only in
[2179]     as far as it partakes of absolute beauty--and I should say the same of
[2180]     everything. Do you agree in this notion of the cause?
[2181]     
[2182]     Yes, he said, I agree.
[2183]     
[2184]     He proceeded: I know nothing and can understand nothing of any other of
[2185]     those wise causes which are alleged; and if a person says to me that the
[2186]     bloom of colour, or form, or any such thing is a source of beauty, I leave
[2187]     all that, which is only confusing to me, and simply and singly, and perhaps
[2188]     foolishly, hold and am assured in my own mind that nothing makes a thing
[2189]     beautiful but the presence and participation of beauty in whatever way or
[2190]     manner obtained; for as to the manner I am uncertain, but I stoutly contend
[2191]     that by beauty all beautiful things become beautiful. This appears to me
[2192]     to be the safest answer which I can give, either to myself or to another,
[2193]     and to this I cling, in the persuasion that this principle will never be
[2194]     overthrown, and that to myself or to any one who asks the question, I may
[2195]     safely reply, That by beauty beautiful things become beautiful. Do you not
[2196]     agree with me?
[2197]     
[2198]     I do.
[2199]     
[2200]     And that by greatness only great things become great and greater greater,
[2201]     and by smallness the less become less?
[2202]     
[2203]     True.
[2204]     
[2205]     Then if a person were to remark that A is taller by a head than B, and B
[2206]     less by a head than A, you would refuse to admit his statement, and would
[2207]     stoutly contend that what you mean is only that the greater is greater by,
[2208]     and by reason of, greatness, and the less is less only by, and by reason
[2209]     of, smallness; and thus you would avoid the danger of saying that the
[2210]     greater is greater and the less less by the measure of the head, which is
[2211]     the same in both, and would also avoid the monstrous absurdity of supposing
[2212]     that the greater man is greater by reason of the head, which is small. You
[2213]     would be afraid to draw such an inference, would you not?
[2214]     
[2215]     Indeed, I should, said Cebes, laughing.
[2216]     
[2217]     In like manner you would be afraid to say that ten exceeded eight by, and
[2218]     by reason of, two; but would say by, and by reason of, number; or you would
[2219]     say that two cubits exceed one cubit not by a half, but by magnitude?-for
[2220]     there is the same liability to error in all these cases.
[2221]     
[2222]     Very true, he said.
[2223]     
[2224]     Again, would you not be cautious of affirming that the addition of one to
[2225]     one, or the division of one, is the cause of two? And you would loudly
[2226]     asseverate that you know of no way in which anything comes into existence
[2227]     except by participation in its own proper essence, and consequently, as far
[2228]     as you know, the only cause of two is the participation in duality--this is
[2229]     the way to make two, and the participation in one is the way to make one.
[2230]     You would say: I will let alone puzzles of division and addition--wiser
[2231]     heads than mine may answer them; inexperienced as I am, and ready to start,
[2232]     as the proverb says, at my own shadow, I cannot afford to give up the sure
[2233]     ground of a principle. And if any one assails you there, you would not
[2234]     mind him, or answer him, until you had seen whether the consequences which
[2235]     follow agree with one another or not, and when you are further required to
[2236]     give an explanation of this principle, you would go on to assume a higher
[2237]     principle, and a higher, until you found a resting-place in the best of the
[2238]     higher; but you would not confuse the principle and the consequences in
[2239]     your reasoning, like the Eristics--at least if you wanted to discover real
[2240]     existence. Not that this confusion signifies to them, who never care or
[2241]     think about the matter at all, for they have the wit to be well pleased
[2242]     with themselves however great may be the turmoil of their ideas. But you,
[2243]     if you are a philosopher, will certainly do as I say.
[2244]     
[2245]     What you say is most true, said Simmias and Cebes, both speaking at once.
[2246]     
[2247]     ECHECRATES: Yes, Phaedo; and I do not wonder at their assenting. Any one
[2248]     who has the least sense will acknowledge the wonderful clearness of
[2249]     Socrates' reasoning.
[2250]     
[2251]     PHAEDO: Certainly, Echecrates; and such was the feeling of the whole
[2252]     company at the time.
[2253]     
[2254]