bacchicstage.files.wordpress.com · Web viewSocrates is saying that death is (morally) a simple thing, that is, it is always and for everyone only good, in contrast with other things

Plato's

Phaedo

Φαίδων

(or About The Soul)

Translated by George Theodoridis

© 2016

All rights reserved

PERSONS IN THE DIALOGUE:

Phaedo of Elis[footnoteRef:-1] The narrator [-1: Phaedo of Elis was one of the closest of Socrates and Plato's friends. When he was young he was abducted by pirates and Socrates freed him by paying the ransom, thereafter becoming Socrates' student. After Socrates' death, he returned to Elis and established the Eretrian School of Philosophy.]

Echecrates of Phlius[footnoteRef:0] (Ἐχεκράτης) [0: Echecrates. Little is known of this man, other than the fact that he was from Phlius, a village in Sicyon in the northern Peleponnese (north-west of Corinth, present day Corinthia), and a follower of the Pythagorean school of thought.]

Socrates

Apollodorus of Phalleron[footnoteRef:1] (a port in Athens) (Ἀπολλόδωρος Φαληρεύς) [1: Fervently devoted student of Socrates. Appeared in the Symposium and in the Apology. According to Xenophon ("Apology") when Socrates was led to jail, he shouted, “I cannot endure this, Socrates. I can see all too well that you have been condemned most unjustly!” At that Socrates, touched Apollodorus’ head gently and said to him, “but, my friend, would you rather they condemned me justly?” His brother, Aiantodorus, was also Socrates’ student. Apollodorus also appears in Plato’s “Symposium” and “Phaedo (https://bacchicstage.wordpress.com/plato/platos-apology/#_ftn28)]

Simmias of Thebes (Σιμμίας)

Cebes of Thebes (Κέβης)

Crito of Alopece ( Κρίτων Άλωπεκῆθεν)

Echecrates of Phlius meets Phaedo of Elis, a follower of Socrates, at Phlius, a remote village on the Peloponnese.

Echecrates: Were you there in prison yourself, Phaedo, on the day when Socrates drank the poison or did you hear of it from someone else?

Phaedo: I was there in person, Echecrates.

Echecrates: And what were the final words of this great man and how did he die? I would love to know this but none of the locals here visits Athens very often and it's been a very long time since anyone from there has visited us and is able to inform us in any detailed way about this, other than that he drank the poison and died. No one could add anything more to this.

Phaedo: So you have learnt nothing about his court case and how it proceeded?

Echecrates: Yes, we did hear about the trial but we were all surprised that it had taken place so long before his death.[footnoteRef:2] How did that happen Phaedo? [2: For religious reasons (see note 5) Socrates' execution was carried out some thirty days after his trial.]

Phaedo: In his case it was simply a matter of luck, Echecrates. It so happened that the ship which the Athenians send to Delos was crowned the day before his trial.

Echecrates: What ship is that?

Phaedo: According to the Athenians, this is the ship used by Theseus when he took the seven young men and seven young women to Crete[footnoteRef:3] and by killing the Minotaur, saved them, himself and Athens. The Athenians had vowed to Apollo at the time that if Theseus was victorious, they would send a ship with a religious mission[footnoteRef:4] annually to Delos, a practice which continues to this day. [3: Minos II, King of Crete angry at the fact that the Athenians have killed his son, Androgeon, besieged Athens and agreed to end this siege if the Athenians would agree to send annually seven young men and seven young women to Crete, to be eaten by the Minotaur, living in the labyrinth of Cnossos. This took place for two years but on the third, Theseus, the son of King Aegeas went along with the young men and women and with the help of King Minos' daughter, Ariadne, killed the Minotaur, thus releasing Athens from that burden. The ship goes to Delos as a promise to Apollo for helping Theseus succeed in his mission, Delos being Apollo's island.] [4: ἄρξωνται τῆς θεωρίας. Θεωρία was a solemn religious mission of ceremonial sacrifice led by a delegation of eminent persons. It began with the crowning of the ship's stern and ended when the ship returned to Athens. No execution may take place in the interim.]

Once this mission begins then the established custom is that no public executions may be conducted in Athens and that the city is purified during the time it takes for the ship to go to Delos and return. The time that this takes place is often long, particularly if the journey is hampered by strong winds.

The sacred mission begins when Apollo's priest crowns the stern of the ship and, as I said earlier, this took place the day before Socrates' trial and that is why the period between his trial and his execution was so long.

Echecrates: Now tell me, Phaedo the main events relating to his death, what was said and what was done and which, of his friends were by the poor man, or didn't the authorities allow any of them to be present? Did he die alone?

Phaedo: No Echecrates, there were quite a few there with him.

Echecrates: Well, then, Phaedo, if you have no other work to stop you from doing so, please be so good as to tell me everything that took place there, in as much detail as you can.

Phaedo: Quite the opposite, in fact, Echecrates. I am free right now and so I shall tell you what went on. And for my part, it is far more pleasant than anything else for me to be talking about Socrates or to be hearing others talking about him and thus bring him to mind.

Echecrates: And there are others, as well, Phaedo who will feel the same joy hearing you speak about Socrates but now please try as much as you can to tell me everything in detail.

Phaedo: And yet, Echecrates, believe me, I, who was there, got a very strange impression of the whole thing because, though I was in the presence of a dying friend I felt no pity for him whatsoever seeing that the man himself, by his words and by his behaviour, he seemed to be so happy. He was ending his life so fearlessly and bravely that it occurred to me that he wasn't going to Hades without the help of some god or other and that when he did arrive there he will be happier than anyone else ever.

[59a] For this reason then, Echecrates, I felt no sense of pity at all the sort one would think it would be natural to feel witnessing such a sad event.

Nor did I feel any joy either, the sort that we felt when we are engaged in philosophy, which is what we were doing at the time but it really was a strange impression, an unusual mixture, a combination of joy and sadness overtook me as I was thinking that the dying man was of such caliber.

And it was the same with the rest of us there. We were all in the same psychological state, one minute laughing and the next shedding tears especially one of us, Apollodorus, whose manner you know very well.

Echecrates: But of course I do.

Phaedo: He was in such a state and so was I and all the rest of us. We were all very shaken by the whole experience.

Echecrates: So, who else happened to be there, Phaedo?

Phaedo: Apollodorus, himself and Critoboulos with his father, Hermogenes, as well as Epigenes, Aeschines, Antisthenes, Ctesippus from Paeania, Menexenus as well as some others from the surrounding districts. Plato, I think was ill that day.

Echecrates: Any foreigners there?

Phaedo: Yes, Simmias from Thebes and Cebes as well as Phaedondes and Eukleidis from Megara and Terpsion

Echecrates: But what about Aristippos and Cleombrotos, were they not there?

Phaedo: No. Apparently they were in Aigina.

Echecrates: Anyone else?

Phaedo: I think that's about it, Echecrates. I think I've mentioned them all.

Echecrates: So, then, Phaedo, what was said amongst you all?

Phaedo: I'll try and narrate everything that went on, Echecrates because, in fact we would all gather every morning at the court where the case was heard and which was near the prison, before we all went in to see Socrates.

So we would wait and chat amongst ourselves until the prison doors were opened, which was never very early. When they did open, we would go in and on most occasions we would spend the whole day with him.

On that day we had gathered much earlier than usual because on the evening before, after we had left the prison, we had learnt that the ship from Delos had arrived so we agreed to meet as early as possible the next day, at the usual place. The jailer who usually opened the door for us came out and told us not to enter until he told us. This is because The Eleven[footnoteRef:5] had just unshackled Socrates and ordered to have him executed that day. [5: "The Eleven" Athens, having lost the Peloponnesian War, was ruled by the Thirty Tyrants, Spartans who ruled brutally and who had murdered approx. 5% of the Athenian population. Their reign was brief because the Athenians, under the leadership of Thrasyboulos, formed rebel forces which expelled them. After that, Athens reverted back to their democratic ways that were in force before the Thirty. The Eleven Magistrates were responsible for the prison and the State's executions. ]

After a little while, the jailer returned and told us to go in.

When we entered, we found Socrates with his chains undone and Xanthipe[footnoteRef:6], whom you know, sitting next to him holding their son. As soon as Xanthipe saw us she began a lament, the sort that women usually sing, saying, "O, Socrates you and your friends will speak for the last time" at which Socrates turn to Crito and said, "Crito, could someone please take her home?" [6: Socrates' wife.]

Some of Crito's servants got up and took her out while she was screaming and beating herself in distress.

Socrates then sat up on his couch and bending his leg began to rub it and as he did he said, "what an odd thing it is, this thing that men call pleasure, ey? How peculiarly it is related to pain which we think of as being its opposite. These two, pleasure and pain are never present in a man at the same time but when a man wants one of them and gets it he is generally forced to get the other along as well, as if they are two bodies stemming from a single head.

"I wonder," Socrates went on, "if Aesop had thought of this would he not composed a myth in which god, wanting to end the strife of these two -pain and pleasure- he fastened both their heads together; and this is why when a man receives one of them, he also gets the other, which is my experience right now, now that the pain, caused to my leg by the chain has gone and it is followed by pleasure."

At this Cebes said, "I am glad you mentioned Aesop, Socrates because it reminded me of something I was asked the day before yesterday by Evenus the poet as well as by many others before that. In fact, I am certain that Evenus will ask it again and the question will be Socrates, how is it that even though you've never composed a line of poetry in your life, suddenly, in prison, you are composing lines of poetry that include Aesop's myths and are also writing hymns to Apollo. If you are concerned about how I should respond to him then you better tell me."

"Well, Cebes," Socrates answered, "tell him the truth. Tell him that I have composed these poems not so as to compete with him in this art, or with his poetry because I know very well that such a competition against him would not be easy but I was doing this in order to discover the meaning of some dreams I had, just in case they had commanded me to compose music because they used to do this to me often in the past.

The same dream would appear in one form or another and would always give me the same command: "Socrates," the dream would say, "compose and cultivate music!" which right up until now I took to mean to go on doing what I was doing[footnoteRef:7], in the same way that spectators cheer at the runners. I thought all along that the dream was doing the same sort of thing, that is, to encourage me to continue, making music with Philosophy since Philosophy is greatest of all the muses and I was engaged with her. [7: "go on doing what I was doing" (which was to work with Philosophy)]

But now, though, now that the trial is over and that the festival of Apollo has delayed my execution, it seems to me that the dream is warning me to compose music -poetry- and it would not be wise of me to disobey it. It would be much safer if I did that, if I obeyed the dream before I took my leave from this world.

That's why I first applied myself to compose a poem for the god of the Festival.[footnoteRef:8] Then, I thought if I were to become a poet I should do what poets do and compose myths, stories, not simply put together arguments and speeches. However, I not being a story teller, used some of Aesop's myths, those which I happened to have handy, those which I knew well and those that came to me first. [8: Apollo]

So then, Cebes, tell Evenus all this and tell him also to take care of himself and, if he's wise, to follow me as quickly as he can, though it seems that I am departing today since that's what the people have ordered."

To which Smmias responded with, "what a thing to ask of Evenus, Socrates! I have met the man many times and from what I've gathered about him, this is not an advice that he will accept too readily."

"But why not, Smmias," asked Socrates. "Is not Evenus a philosopher?"

"Yes, I believe he is, Socrates."

"Then he will accept it, Smmias. Evenus and everyone else who is a worthy participant of this practice will accept it, though, perhaps he might not be willing to commit suicide because they say it's not permitted by the gods."

And as he was saying this, my friend, Echecrates, he put his feet down onto the ground and kept them there throughout the rest of the conversation.

Then Cebes asked him, "Socrates, how do you mean, that the gods do not permit us to commit suicide but a philosopher must happily follow the dying?"

"But of course, Cebes," said Socrates. "Have you and Smmias not heard of this view while you've been associating with Philolaos?"[footnoteRef:9] [9: Phylolaos: Most likely from Croton but quite possibly also from Tarentum or Metapontum, all cities on the East cost of Italy which at the time was extensively colonised by Greeks. A well known Pythagorian at the time, about whom little is known. He and his sect were expelled from Italy, perhaps after the meeting place of the Pythagorian school was burned for the second time. He then came and settled in Thebes where he met Smmias and Cebes. He is thought to be the first to observe that the Earth is not the centre of the Universe but something he called "Central Fire."The Pythagorians believed that the gods did not permit suicide.]

"No, nothing that was too clear, Socrates."

"And I, too, am speaking from things I've heard, Cebes but I feel no scruples about relating to you all that I've heard on the matter. In fact, it is probably a good thing for me to do this, to examine and to talk about all matters relating to that other place, what sort of a place it is exactly and about the journey there since I am about to depart for it. In any case, Cebes, what else could we do until the setting of the sun?"

"So," said Cebes, "what makes them say that the divine laws do not permit one to kill himself, Socrates? Because Philolaos too said what you are saying now about suicide, one time when he was staying with us, and so did as some others but I've never really heard from anyone anything in detail."

"Well," said Socrates, "don't be too upset about it, you might very well hear something about it now. Perhaps, Cebes, this might sound odd to you but of all things this alone, death, is a simple matter, that is, good to all people and not, like in other case, good to some people and bad to others.[footnoteRef:10] Nor does it ever happen, as it does in other things, that for some men it is more preferable to die than to live. Perhaps then it might sound odd to you that for those men who prefer death to life, the gods don't like it that they give themselves that gift, the gift of death." [10: Socrates is saying that death is (morally) a simple thing, that is, it is always and for everyone only good, in contrast with other things like illness, for example or marriage, which for some it is good but evil for others. Death is the absolute separation of the soul from everything material and from all influences by anything material, that is to say, it is the complete separation and purification.]

Cebes then smiled a little and using the dialect of his hometown said, "Zeus knows this, Socrates."

"And of course, he does," said Socrates. "It sounds odd, said like this but there is, perhaps logic behind it. Because whilst the reason why these things are said only to the initiates,[footnoteRef:11] which is that we mortals, while we are alive, are kept in some sort of guarded prison from which no one must free himself of his own accord, nor yet to leave in secret, it is too difficult a thought and reason for everyone to grasp. Still, Cebes, it seems to me that it's a reasonable argument to accept that the god does exist and takes care of us and that we are his possessions -or do you disagree with this view?" [11: Here Socrates implies the teachings of the Orphics, which only the initiated could hear and which they had to keep absolutely secret and thus called "unuttered" as well as the mystic teachings of the Pythagoreans]

"No, I agree with it," replied Cebes.

"Well then," Socrates continued, "if you too had one of your possessions, say one of your servants, wanting to kill himself even though you did not order him to do so, would you not punish him in some way, if you could?"

"But of course," said Cebes.

"Seeing the matter from that aspect then, perhaps it is not a mistake to think that no one must kill himself before the god sends him some need for him to do it, something he couldn't escape from, just as he has done to me now, I mean the need for me to die."

"Of course, Socrates," said Cebes, "this seems to be correct but not so what you had said a little earlier, which is that philosophers should be absolutely willing to die. This seems to me to be quite illogical, that is, if it is truly the case that there exist a god who is taking care of us and that we are his possessions, his servants. It seems to me illogical that the wisest of the god's servants, would not to be distressed if they are forced to leave this service, a service to the gods who are the best guardians of all things. Surely such men, I mean the philosophers, would not believe that by freeing himself he would be better able to take care of himself. An uneducated man, perhaps might think like that, I mean that he should escape from his master, not understanding that a servant should never leave a good master and that he should stay with him always and so escaping from him would be the wrong thing to do. The wise servant, of course would always want to stay with his better.

The opposite of what we were saying earlier, therefore Socrates, is correct, which that the wise men should feel distressed when they must die, whereas the unwise to be happy."

It seemed to me that Socrates was pleased with Cebe's arguments and turning to us he said, "Cebes always seeks for and finds some argument or other and will never be persuaded by any argument that anyone else puts to him."

To this Simmias said, "Still, Socrates, it seems to me that Cebes is making a good point. I mean, why would the truly wise men, the philosophers want to leave their masters who are their betters, without feeling the slightest sadness? And it also seems to me that Cebes has directed his argument at your eagerness, Socrates to leave us and to leave the gods as well, who are good masters."

"You're quite right, men because you are telling me that I should defend myself here in the same way I have defended myself in court."

"Indeed we are, Socrates!" said Simmias.

"Well then, I shall try and speak more persuasively here, towards you then I did in court towards the judges. In fact, Simmias and Cebes," Socrates said, "it would be wrong for me not to be distressed by dying if I thought that I would not be going first to the other wise and good gods and then to the people who have died before me and who are better than those who are here. But now, you should be certain that I hope to go to those good people, something which I can't prove with any certainty but you can be sure, more than anything else, that I can prove that I shall indeed be going to gods who are very good masters. This is why I am not as sad as I could have been but, in fact I am very hopeful that there is something there for those who have died and that, as it has been said for a long time, that something is far kinder to those who are good than to those who are evil."

"And what would that something be, Socrates?" asked Simmias. "Or are you about to depart from us with that knowledge in mind, or will you share it with us here because I at least, believe that this is one good counsel that belongs to us all, while at the same time it will serve as your defence, if you can persuade us to accept what you say."

"I shall do my best," said Socrates. "But I'd like first to know what it is that Crito has been trying to say all this time."

"What else could it be, Socrates," said Crito other than the fact that for a long time, the man who is about to give you the poison has been telling me to ask you, not to talk too much because, he says, talking makes a person hot and this will be an unwelcome interference with the poison because it might well make it necessary for you to take the poison twice or even a third time."

To which Socrates responded with, "never mind, Crito. Tell him, if you will, to be ready to administer it twice, or, if it needs be three times."

"I knew that, this would be your answer, Socrates but he was insisting all this time and he became quite bothersome."

"Never mind, Crito," said Socrates. "I now want to defend myself to you, my judges

and to explain to you why I think that a man who has spent his entire life in Philosophy would have sufficient courage and hope that in that other life, after he dies, he will receive enormous good and it is this, Simmias and Cebes that I want to try and explain to you.

Because those who happen to practice Philosophy correctly run the risk of being misunderstood by the others because they simply do not perceive that philosophers are continuously pursuing death and dying. And if this is the case, then how odd it would that being engaged in death all of his life, when death does come, when the thing they were after and which they were practicing, does arrive, they would be troubled by it!"

To this Simmias laughed and said, "by Zeus, Socrates! I am absolutely not in the mood for laughing but you have, in fact, made me laugh! Because if most people heard you say this, I have no doubt that they will agree what they say about philosophers that they are truly in favour of death and that they are recognised because they truly deserve to suffer. My own people back home in Thebes will be saying exactly the same thing, Socrates. They will be saying that they have discovered the game that the philosophers are playing. They will be saying, 'alright, since the life the philosophers wish so desperately to lead, is in fact death well then, the philosophers deserve to get what they most desire, which is death, so, let them die!'"

"And that would be quite right, Simmias," said Socrates "with the only possible exception which is their view that they have discovered what game the philosophers are playing because they have not discovered what is the nature of death which the philosophers desire, why do they desire it and why it is they do so. But let us leave those people alone and let us talk with each other. Do we believe that death exist?"

"But of course," said Simmias.

"In that case, Simmias, is death perhaps nothing more than the separation of the soul from the body? And is it possible for one to say that for one to be dead, his body must be separated from his soul and it now exist on its own, alone and that once his soul has been separated from his body, it, too exists on its own? Could therefore be true that is not this but something else?

"No, it must be this," said Simmias.

"Well, let us examine this, then my good friend and see if you accept as true those things which I also accept as I believe that beginning from these things we will easier discover the answers to our questions. Does it seem that it is fitting for a philosopher to engage in the so called pleasures of,[footnoteRef:12] say, eating and drinking? [12: περὶ τὰς ἡδονὰς καλουμένας]

"Not at all, Socrates?" said Simmias.

"And what about the pleasures of love, Simmias?"

"Not at all!"

"But then what else? Do you think this man would engage in the other pleasures of his body, possessing extravagant clothes, for example, or sandals or other things that would adorn his body? Would he not rather despise all these pleasures, all those things that Nature has no need of, instead of worrying about them?"

"I don't think that the true philosopher would think much of those pleasures," answered Simmias.

"Well then, Simmias, it appears to me that you think that a philosopher would not be concerned about the affairs of the body but, in fact, he would try as best he could to separate himself from it and move towards his soul."

"Yes, that' what I think."

"And so then, it is obvious that the first thing for the philosopher -at odds with all other men- is to disengage as best he can the communion between the soul and the body."

"Quite obvious."

"In fact Simmias, most people believe that life is not worth living for a man who derives no pleasure from any of these things and that a man who doesn't care at all about the pleasures that come from the body, would be almost dead."

"You speak well, indeed, Socrates," said Simmias.

"And what can we now say about the body itself? Is it going to be an aid or a hindrance in this enquiry we're engaged? What I mean is this: Do sight and hearing offer man anything that is true and real? Or are the poets correct when they repeat to us over and over again that we neither see nor hear anything accurately?[footnoteRef:13] [13: Here Socrates alludes to people like Parmenides, (fg 7) Empedocles and Epicharmon, who assert that we receive nothing accurate from any of the senses. In fact Epicharmus (fr12) said "νοῦς ὁρῆ καί νοῦς  ἀκοὺει, τ’ ἂλλα δέ κωφά καί τυφλά" (The mind sees and the mind hears but all the others i.e. senses, are deaf and blind.) ]

And if these two senses of the body are neither accurate nor clear, the other sense will obviously be even weaker. Would you not say that this is so?"

"We certainly would," said Simmias.

"Well then, when can the soul attain the truth because when it tries to examine anything by means of the body, it is clear that it is deceived by it."

"Quite so," said Simmias.

"Therefore," Socrates continued, "if anything at all makes itself clear to the soul it is through reasoning."[footnoteRef:14] [14: ἐν τῷ λογίζεσθαι]

"Yes."

"And the soul best uses reasoning when it is not interfered with by the senses of hearing or seeing, or by pain or joy but when it is as far as possible all alone, free from the body and so far as is possible, not in communion with it, nor touch it, if it is aspiring to attain the real truth."

"This is true."

"And so, here too, the soul of the Philosopher will rather scorn the body and leave it, wishing to be on its own."

"It seems so."

"Well then, what shall we say about Justice, Simmias, does it exist or not?"

"Indeed, we shall say it does, by Zeus!"

"And so do beauty and goodness?"

"But of course!"

"And have you seen then any of these with your eyes?"

"No, never."

"And have you touched any of these things with any of the other senses of your body?

And by this I mean all things, such as size, for example or health, or strength, in other words, the very essence of them, whatever each of them is. Is it possible for one to see their most essential element through the senses of his body? Or is it that the following thing happens: That whoever amongst us wants to examine these things with greater accuracy, he must prepare himself to do so with his mind.

"You are right," said Simmias.

"Therefore, my friend, if one wants to see something as accurately, as truthfully, and as clearly as possible he must approach that thing with his mind only[footnoteRef:15], unaffected by his sight, nor must he drag in any other corporeal sense, along with the power of his logic. He must undertake to use his mind only so as to examine each thing, on each own and separately, only after he has shed as far as he can his sight and his hearing and let us say, divorce himself generally from the whole of his body because the body, if it is allowed to take part in the examination, it will disturb the soul and will not permit it to grasp the required truth and knowledge. Is it not so, Simmias that he who adopts this attitude, more than anyone else will discover the reality of the object he is examining?" [15: αὐτῇ τῇ διανοίᾳ]

"Most wisely said, Socrates," replied Simmias.

"It follows then, Simmias," Socrates continued, "that it is from these considerations that the true philosophers must begin their discussion with each other and they must conclude with words like these: some path has somehow changed our way of thinking to conclude that, while we have our body and our soul is mingled in all of this evil, we will never properly attain that which we are after, by which we mean the truth[footnoteRef:16]. This is because the body is forever demanding our attention. It is either hungry and if some disease or other happen to attack it then, such things hinder us from our pursuit of reality. Our body fills us with desires and pains and fears of all sorts of creatures of our imagination as well as a great deal of nonsense, so much so that, as men say, it takes away our ability to attain any knowledge at all. [16: τὸ ἀληθές]

Nothing but the body with its desires causes wars and disturbances and battles because all wars are waged for the sake of money which we need because of our body and spending all of our time in the pursuit of money, we become its slaves and we are left with no time at all in the pursuit of Philosophy.

And what is even worse is the fact that even when we are given some time and opportunity to separate ourselves from the body and we set ourselves upon some enquiry or other, it still manages to interfere in every aspect of that enquiry, causing us disturbance and confusion and befuddlement so that because of it we cannot recognise the truth.

It has been proven to us unequivocally that if we are ever going to gain clear knowledge of something, we must separate ourselves from our body and to examine with our soul only, each thing on its own. It seems then that it will only be possible for us to attain that which we desire and love the most, which is wisdom, after we die because, obviously, as this enquiry proves to us that we cannot attain it while we are alive.

Because if it is not possible to learn anything clearly when we are attached to the body, we must say that only one of two things is possible: either it is impossible to learn anything clearly anywhere at all or else, it is only possible after we die, since then the soul will be free of the body unlike before, when we were alive.

And whilst we are alive, it seems that we can be closer to the true knowledge if we can stop our communion with it as much as possible and commune with it only in cases of absolute emergency. We should keep ourselves free of its polluting effect and stay clean and separated from our body until the god himself frees us.

And in this way, separated and remaining pure and unpolluted by the foolishness of the body, we will be among other similarly pure men and we will learn ourselves the pure reality, which is perhaps the truth because it is unforgivable for the polluted to touch something the pure.

I believe, Simmias that it is unavoidable that all the true lovers of knowledge to be talking with each other and to be thinking in this way.

Or is this not what you think?"

"That is what they will certainly be doing, Socrates," replied Simmias.

"Therefore," continued Socrates, "if these things are true, my friend, I feel there's great hope that when I have reached the end of the journey I am embarking now, I shall attain that which I have strived for all of my life and not only will that be true for me but also for anyone else who has similarly made his mind prepared and purified."

"Quite so, Socrates."

"And so this purification of the soul happens to be that very same thing we have been talking about for all this time, which is our separation, so far as we are able to accomplish this, our soul from our body and its practice of collecting and gathering itself into itself from every part of the body by itself alone and to live alone as far as possible, both now and afterwards when it is freed from the body, just as someone is freed from shackles."

"That is true."

"Is this release then of the soul from the body, not called death?"

"Yes it is."

"And so is it not the real concern of the true philosophers and only of them, the release of the soul from its shackles, the body? Is this not the only concern of the philosophers, the release, the separation of the soul from the body?"

"This is obviously so, Socrates" replied Simmias.

"And so then, is what I was saying earlier true, that it would be quite ridiculous for a man who prepares himself this way during his whole life, so as to be as near as possible to death but then when death does come for him to feel sad. Would that no be ridiculous?""But of course it would."

"And so, Simmias, those who think correctly, will be preoccupied with their death and thus death will incite less fear in them than in all the other people.

Now consider the following: If in fact they hate the body totally and love to be alone with their soul, would it not be quite stupid for them to be afraid and miserable when this does happen to them? If they don't go with joy to that place where there would be a hope that there they would attain that which they desired all of their life, which is the understanding of the truth and that they would have discarded their body, in other words that which they hated all of their lives. And there too they would meet their loved children and wives and sons who have died. Many men desired deeply to go to Hades, motivated by this very hope that they there would meet heir loved ones and be with them. And of those who are truly wanting to attain wisdom and know full well that the only place they can do this is in Hades, will he be at all worried about dying? Will he not gladly go there?

We must, my friend, think that he will indeed be happy to go there, if he is a true philosopher because he would have formed the strong conviction that only there, in Hades and nowhere else is where he can attain true wisdom.

And if this is true then wouldn't it be quite ridiculous for him to fear death?

"By Zeus, of course it would, Socrates!"

"Well then," asked Socrates "is this not an adequate proof then, Simmias, that if you see a man who is anxious about dying that he is not a true lover of wisdom but one of the body and that he is also a lover of money and of honour, or one or other of these two?"

"But of course," said Simmias.

"And," Socrates continued, "do we not call such people, I mean people who love philosophy, brave?"

"Absolutely!"

"Prudence[footnoteRef:17] also, Simmias, as the people call it, meaning the ability one has to withstand temptation and to reject it and to be orderly in all things so that he may fit in with those who treat their bodies with scorn and live in Philosophy, can these people not be called prudent?" [17: ἡ σωφροσύνη loosely, "circumspection," "self control."]

"Absolutely," said Simmias.

"Because, if you want to examine the bravery and prudence of other, those who are not philosophers, you'll find that this would not be possible."

"Why, how is that Socrates?" asked Simmias

"You know that all those others, all those who are not philosophers believe that death is one of the worse evils, yes?"

"Yes, I know that very well."

"The brave, then, when they face death, they face it being afraid of evils worse than death. Is that not so?"

"It is, Socrates."

"In that case, Simmias, the non philosophers are brave because they are afraid and their bravery is only a consequence of their fear but it is not right for someone to be brave due to fear or cowardice.

"Certainly," said Simmias.

"And the prudent?[footnoteRef:18] Are they not victims of the same thing? I mean that they are prudent because they suffer from being imprudent? It seems odd but in fact it is not since their temperance is foolish. This is because by being afraid of missing out on other pleasures which they want, they deprive themselves of others which control them. And even though, this is called indulgence, to these men conquering these pleasures is done by being conquered themselves by pleasure, which fits in with what I have said just before, that in some sense they are prudent because they are imprudent." [18: Here, οἱ κόσμιοι αὐτῶν. Those of them who are prudent.]

"It seems so," Said Simmias.

"Oh, blessed Simmias!" Continued Socrates. "Is this not the right way then, the way I mean that leads to virtue? To be exchanging pleasures with pleasures and misery with misery and fear with fear, the bigger of them with the smaller, just as we exchange coins and is there not a single coin which is the correct coin, namely True Knowledge and could it be blessed Simmias that in fact all things are bought and sold by this coin and that with this coin is also bought both, bravery as well as prudence and justice? And can we not perhaps say that true virtue is in true knowledge, whether it includes fear or pleasure or other such good things or evil? And do you not think that when these things are separated from wisdom and are simply exchanged with each other, is not the virtue that derives from them, merely a drawing[footnoteRef:19] and in truth, nothing more than a mere slave,[footnoteRef:20] totally bereft of anything healthy or real? [19: σκιαγραφία] [20: ἀνδραποδώδης]

Is perhaps reality not some purification of all these things and that prudence and justice and bravery and even wisdom itself not, in fact the very process of purification? And, of course, those who have introduced us to the initiation ceremonies[footnoteRef:21] were not men of trivial worth and they have hinted from long ago now that those who arrive in the realm of Hades uninitiated and not having participated in the ceremony will find themselves lying in the mud whereas those who are cleansed and have taken part in the ceremonies, will, from the moment live among the gods, "because," as they say in the mysteries, "many thyrsus bearers but few real mystics." And, in my view it is these mystics who are the true philosophers and like whom, I tried to be as best I could during my whole life. Whether my efforts were well guided and whether I have achieved anything by them, I think the god, if he so wills, will let me know a little later. [21: The annual Eleusinian Mysteries, held in honour of Demeter and Persephone, cults based in Eleusis, in West Attica.]

So this, then is my defence, Simmias and Cebes and why I am not grieving in leaving you and the masters here, nor am I distressed because I believe that there, no less than here, I will also meet good masters and good friends, which is something that most people don't believe.

So, if by this defence of mine, I have persuaded you more than I have persuaded the Athenian judges, I shall be very happy."

When Socrates had said all that, Cebes spoke in turn, and said, "Socrates, I think that on all those other things you spoke well but on things relating to the soul, people will find them difficult to believe because they are afraid that once the soul is separated from the body, it will no longer exist anywhere. It will be destroyed and it will disappear on that very day the man dies because once it is separated from the body, it will disperse away like a breath, or like smoke and it will vanish and will not reappear anywhere.

However, if the soul were able to hold itself together and has managed to separate itself from all those ills you have just mentioned, well then, Socrates, there would be a great hope that what you are saying is, in fact true.

But this, Socrates, the view that when the man dies the soul continues to exist and still possesses some power and intelligence, requires quite a long and involved argument and much proof."

"Quite so, Cebes," replied Socrates "but what shall we do? Would you like us to talk about these things, to question this view, if it is true or not?"

"I would very much love to do that," said Cebes. "I would love to know your opinion about these things."

"Personally, of course" continued Socrates, "I believe that if anyone were to hear us talk now, even if he were an author of comedies[footnoteRef:22], even he wouldn't be able to say that I am simply chattering idly and about things that are entirely irrelevant. [22: "even if he were an author of comedies" alluding to Aristophanes who had disparaged him in his "Clouds" where he portrays Socrates as a teacher suspended from the clouds, in a basket, teaching irrelevant nonsense to his students below.]

So, if you like Cebes, and you see this discussion as virtuous and useful then by all means let us examine it. Let us then examine whether the souls of the dead exist in Hades or not.

There is a view, Cebes, about which we have talked earlier, an ancient one, that when the souls leave this place, continue to exist in Hades and that they then return back here, having been born from the dead. If this is the case, can we then possibly admit any other view than that our souls exist there, in Hades? Because, of course, they would never return here if they didn't exist there which is proof enough that this view -that the living have come from the dead- is correct and that if this were not so, then we would need for sort of proof."

"But of course," said Cebes.

"Then," continued Socrates, "if you want to understand the issue easily then don't look it as referring only to humans but to all animals and to all plants and to all things that come to life. Let us examine, Cebes, if opposites are born out of opposites, so far as the generation of life is concerned. For example, the beautiful is obviously the opposite of the ugly, the just, opposite of the unjust and, of course there are countless other such examples of opposites emerging out of opposites.

Let us therefore examine if is it unavoidable in all living things that are the opposite of something else, for them not to emerge from anywhere else other than from those opposites. For example, when something becomes bigger does it become so out of something that once was smaller that it became bigger?"

"Yes, that is so," answered Cebes.

"Well then, if it becomes smaller, was it not from the greater that it did so?"

"Yes," said Cebes.

"Also, is it the same with the weaker becoming strong out of the stronger and the fast out of the slow?"

"Of course," said Cebes.

"And so," continued Socrates, "what do you say about this, does the worse emerge out of the better and the just from the unjust?"

"Absolutely," said Cebes.

"In that case," said Socrates, "we have proven that all things are born in the same way, that the opposites are born out of their opposites."

"Certainly," said Cebes.

"And so again, what are you saying, Cebes," asked Socrates. "that there exists between all these pairs of opposites two types of birth, one emerges from the other and then again the reverse, that is the other from the first? Is there not between a larger thing and a smaller one an increase and a decrease and is that not what we say about them, that one increases while the other decreases?

"Indeed," said Cebes.

"And there are also," said Socrates, "other opposing things, where the one is born out of the others, such as mixing together and separating and cold and hot which is how all opposites behave and if sometimes we have no names for them it is still always the case that this is the process they undergo, which is that the one is born of the other and then a second birth this time in reverse?"

"Of course."

"Well then," continued Socrates, "Is there an opposite thing to life, as is being asleep to being awake?"

"Of course," answered Cebes.

"And what is that?" asked Socrates.

"Death," answered Cebes.

"And so then, if these two are truly opposites, are they not born out of each other and between these two is there also the two births?"

"Of course."

"And so now," said Socrates, "I shall talk about one of the two opposing pairs which I have mentioned earlier, as well as that process in between, and then you tell me about the other one. I mean that of being asleep and being awake. Being awake is a state born out of being asleep and being asleep is born out of being awake, and these two were born out of falling asleep and out of waking up. Did you understand that well enough, Cebes?"

"Very much, Socrates," replied Cebes.

"Then, Cebes, talk to me in the same way about life and death. Do you not think that being alive is the opposite of being dead?"

"It is," said Cebes.

"And are they not born out of each other?"

"Yes, they are."

"Well then what is born out that which is alive?"

"That which is dead," answered Cebes.

"And what is born out of the dead?"

"I can say nothing else but that the answer to this question is the living."

"And so, Cebes, the dead things and the dead men are born out of the living?"

"Obviously."

"And so then, our souls exist in Hades."

"It seems so."

"And about these births, those that take place in the two phenomena, I mean life and death) one of them at least is thoroughly obvious, which is death, is it not?"

"Of course."

"Well then shall we do?" Asked Socrates. "Can we refuse the existence of its opposite birth and blame Nature for that, or are we forced to accept that death is the opposite of life?"

"Indeed," said Cebes.

"Which is it?" asked Socrates

"Rebirth," answered Cebes.

"Which, if it existed, would be the rebirth of the dead, their return to life? For the dead to coming to live among the living?"

"Certainly."

"So we agree on this, that the living have emerged out of the dead, just as the dead have emerged out of the living. Since this is true then, we also agree that this is certain proof that the souls of the dead exist somewhere, from where they return directly into life."

"Yes, Socrates. It certainly follows from what we've agreed upon."

"Well then look, Cebes," continued Socrates "it seems to me that we were not wrong to agree upon these things because, if the exchange of the opposites did not happen always, like a perpetual cycle but the birth happened in a straight continuous line from one state into its opposite and did not return back to its original state, taking a turn, you should know, Cebes that all things would take on the same form in the end and would undergo the same experience, and they would have stopped regenerating."

"How do you mean," asked Cebes.

"What I am saying," said Socrates, " is not at all difficult to understand, Cebes but let me use and example. If the act of being asleep exists and to awaken was not a consequence and a return to it, then you know well, Cebes that everything would work towards showing that Endymion was quite silly and you wouldn't be able to see him anywhere in all this, because they would have all undergone the same experience that he has, which is to be asleep; and if all things were mixed together and inseparable, we would soon witness something which Anaxagoras[footnoteRef:23] said, which is 'all things together,' and, in the same way, dear Cebes, if all living things that have emerged from death did not return back to death, then surely, all things dead would remain dead and there would be none living. Would it not then be an inescapable conclusion that, in the end, all things would die and not a single thing remain alive? [23: Anaxagoras of Clazomene (Asia Minor), one of the Presocratics. c 500-400BC, friend of Pericles and credited with being the bringer of Philosophy to Athens where he went when he was twenty years old. He introduced the notion of Nous (νοῦς) and, responding to Parmenides' "nothing changes" the idea that "nothing becomes nor is lost but consists of and separates from pre-existing beings." In other words, the universe consists of ingredients that have never and will never change and are all mixed so thoroughly that no individual ingredient is evident, yet this mixture is not absolutely uniform.]

Because if the living things emerged out of other things and not of things that have died, what means would there be to prevent all things from being swallowed by death?"

"I don't believe there exist such a means," answered Cebes "and it looks like what you're saying is true, Socrates."

"I believe it is so, Cebes, beyond any doubt," said Socrates "and that we're not deceived when we admit these to be our views; and that our view that one is reborn and lives again, is a real one and that the living are born from the dead and that the souls of the dead exist and that the virtuous souls exist in a better state than the evil ones.

"As for that," added Cebes, "if it is true, as you often like to say, Socrates, it seems the act of learning for us is nothing more than an act of recollection[footnoteRef:24] of something which we must have necessarily learnt in a previous life and now simply remember.[footnoteRef:25] But this, Socrates, would be impossible if our soul did not exist somewhere before it appeared in this human form, so that looking at the issue in this way, it would seem that the soul is immortal." [24: ἀνάμνησις] [25: ἀναμιμνῃσκόμεθα]

"But Cebes," said Simmias interrupting, "remind me please of the proof that supports these things because I don't remember them just now."

"I shall do so with one, most beautiful word, Simmias," said Cebes, "and it is this: when people are asked questions, that is if the questions are asked correctly, they will tell you all they know of their own accord, about the question but if they do not have the knowledge or the correct word they cannot do so. Then, if one takes them to some diagrams or some other such things they will then be able to see just how things are."

"And, Simmias," added Socrates, "if you are not persuaded by this, then see if you can accept it by looking at it in another way, that is if you are still skeptical about the view that learning is recalling."

"No, I am not skeptical at all about this, " said Simmias "but I do need to experience what we are talking about. So far as those things that Cebes was saying earlier I am more or less convinced but I still want to hear what it is you were trying to say just now about it."

I shall say this," said Socrates. "I am certain that we are in agreement that if someone can recollect something then it is obvious that he must have learnt that something at some time earlier."

"But of course," said Simmias.

"In that case, are we not also in agreement about this, that when knowledge[footnoteRef:26] of something appears in this manner, it is, in fact, a recollection? But I am also referring to another manner of appearing, which is this: If someone who has either seen or heard some other thing, or he has perceived it by some other sense, not only would he have received knowledge of that things alone but he would have also placed in his mind some other idea as well, the knowledge of which is not the same as the first and thus then, would we not be able to say quite validly that he had remembered that of which the idea was initially perceived?" [26: ἐπιστήμη]

"What do you mean," asked Simmias.

"What I mean is this," answered Socrates. "That the understanding of a man is different to the understanding of a lyre."

"But, by Zeus, of course," said Simmias.

"Therefore then Simmias, do you not know that when lovers see a lyre or some article of clothing or some other thing which their lover is accustomed to using, they experience the following: not only do they conceive the knowledge of the lyre but also the form of the person to whom the lyre belongs and this is a recollection. This is the same when someone sees Simmias often he will also remember Cebes as well. There are, of course thousands of such examples."

"Of course, Socrates, thousands."

"Well then, is it not the case that this experience of recollection is a means by which we recover that which, either through the passing of time or of not having seen it, we have forgotten?"

"Indeed," said Simmias.

"So, are you also saying, Simmias, that it is possible for someone to see the drawing of a horse or a lyre and still remember a person, to see Simmias, in other words, in a drawing and to remember Cebes?"

"Yes it is," said Simmias.

"As well, to see Simmias in a drawing and to remember Simmias himself?"

"Of course."

"Well then does it not follow that recollection can happen of similar things as well as of dissimilar?"

"It does."

"But then, when someone recollects something as a result of some similar things appearing before him, is it not inescapable to experience even this: to question in his mind if this new thing is entirely similar to that which he has just recollected or if it is in some way different?"

"Inescapable, indeed," replied Simmias.

"In that case, then Simmias, examine if what I am about to say is correct.

"Am I right in believing that we are saying that there is such a thing as equality?[footnoteRef:27] I mean not that wood is equal to wood, or a stone equal to another stone but, beyond those things and separate from them, there is something else, something we call equality. Will we admit that equality is something or it is not?" [27: τὸ ἴσον]

"By Zeus," replied Simmias confidently. "We shall indeed admit that it exists."

"Yes, Simmias but do we also know what is this thing we call 'equality?'"

"Of course we do."

"And how did we obtain this knowledge," asked Socrates. "Did we perhaps receive it from those things we've talked about just now, I mean, when we said that there is equality in wood and stone or other such things from which we concluded that equality itself is something outside those things? Is it from that discussion that we drew the conclusion that equality is something separate from them, or do you not think it different? Examine the matter also in this way, that is, do not the same pieces of wood or stone appear some times to be equal and some times not equal?"

"Of course," said Simmias.

"So are you saying, Simmias," continued Socrates, "that there are times when the same, equal things appear unequal or, are you saying that equality some times appears unequal?"

"Not so far, anyhow," replied Simmias.

"In that case then," said Socrates, "these equal things and this very thing called equality are not the one and same thing."

"So it appears to me, too," said Simmias "that they are not at all the one and same thing."

"But then," said Socrates, "whilst these equal things are different and a separate thing to equality, is it not from those things that you've formed the notion and the knowledge about equality?"

"Most certainly so," said Simmias.

"And did you not form this idea about equality from these things, whether they are equal or not?"

"Of course."

"Well then, it makes no difference at all whether equality differs or not from those equal things because until you see something else after you saw this and from it you've formed the idea of the other -be it similar or not- it would be impossible not to say you've recalled it."

"Yes."

"But then what of this," asked Socrates. "do we perhaps experience this sort of thing, that when we see sticks and all those things we've just called equal, do we think that they are equal to that thing we called 'equality,' or are they missing something to qualify them as such? Are they equal to equality?"

"They lack a great deal," answered Simmias.

"Do we not then agree that if someone sees something and forms the notion that he wants it to be like something else he saw previously but it cannot be so because it is inferior to it, do we then think that this phenomenon comes about because he has some prior knowledge of that thing which, he says resembles it but which is inferior to it?"

"Undoubtedly," replied Simmias. "he must have had a previous knowledge of it."

"What are you saying then, Simmias, that we have in fact experienced this phenomenon or not, in respect of the things that are equal and equality itself?"

"We certainly have," said Simmias.

"And so, do we think that it is absolutely necessary that we had knowledge of equality itself prior to that time when we first saw those similar things and that they desired to be similar to equality but are inferior?"

"Quite so," said Simmias.

"In that case we must accept this also, that this idea of true equality did not come to us from anywhere else, nor is it possible for it to be formed of itself but it has come to us through our sight, or touch or some other of our senses, which, as I say, is the same with all such perceptions."

"Indeed, Socrates. So far as our argument is concerned, all things are similar."

"And so then, it is from our senses that we perceive that all sensible things strive to be equal to equality itself but they do not make it because they are inferior to it. Is this not what we say?"

"It is indeed, Socrates."

"In which case," continued Socrates, "before we began to see and hear and to use all our other senses, we must have somehow perceived the notion of equality, what sort of thing it is, since we were about to compare it with all those similar things which we perceive with our senses, since they all want to be like it, even though they are inferior to it."

"It follows so from what we have said, Socrates," said Simmias.

"And did we have those our sight and our hearing and all our other senses the moment we were born?" Asked Socrates.

"But of course," replied Simmias.

"Therefore, it is from these senses, as we were saying before, that we have gained this knowledge of equality."

"Yes."

"And it is obvious, then that we have gained knowledge of the true equality before we were born."

"Obvious indeed."

"If that's the case then, if we have obtained this knowledge before we were born and we were born with it, we knew of it both, before and immediately after, not only about the true equality and about what is greater or lesser but about all such things.

Because we are not now talking only about equality but about much more; we are now talking about beauty and about virtue and justice and about what is holy and, as I was saying, about all such things that we assert are how they are, both when we ask as well as when we reply about them. It is therefore certain that we have received knowledge about all these things before we were born."

"Yes."

"And, of course, since we have acquired this knowledge, we don't just forget it each time but we are born always having that knowledge and we will possess it throughout our whole life. Because, Simmias, the knowing of something depends upon this, that once he has received knowledge of something he maintains it and does not forget it and, do we not call 'forgetting' the 'loss of knowledge?'"

"We do, indeed, Socrates," replied Simmias.

"And so at least this appears to us to be true then," continued Socrates, "that when we perceive something, either by sight or hearing or by some other sense we are able to form from that thing a notion of some other thing which we have forgotten and which might be either similar or dissimilar, in which case, as I say, one of two things has occurred: either we were born knowing these things and we continue knowing them throughout our lives or, later when we speak about those who we say are learning them they are, in fact, doing nothing more than recalling them and therefore, learning is perhaps is simply a recollection of them."[footnoteRef:28] [28: οὐδὲν ἀλλ᾽ ἢ ἀναμιμνῄσκονται οὗτοι, καὶ ἡ μάθησις ἀνάμνησις ἂν εἴη.]

"That is very much how it is, Socrates," said Simmias.

"So," continued Socrates, "which of the two do you prefer, that we are born with the knowledge or that we recollect later those things that we have learnt before?"

"I can't decide, right now Socrates," replied Simmias.

"Then will you be able to choose from what I will say now and to also tell me your opinion about this, can a man who knows something explain what it is that he knows or not?"

"Obviously he can, Socrates."

"And what about other people, will they also be able to explain those things we were just talking about?"

"It would be my wish," said Simmias "but my big fear is that this time tomorrow there will be no one who could do justice to it"

"So then you don't think, Simmias that everyone knows these things?"

"Not at all, Socrates."

"But they'll remember those things they have learnt previously?"

"Quite so."

"But when did our soul learnt of these things because it was not after we were born as humans."

"Of course not."

"So they have learnt them previous to being born?"

"Yes."

"So the souls, Simmias, must have existed before we were born in this human form, when they were without a body. They had knowledge then."

"Unless, of course we receive this knowledge at the moment of birth, Socrates because that's the only time left for us as being possible."

"It could well be, my friend but when exactly do we lose it since, as we decided, we were not born possessing it? Or do we perhaps lose it at the very same time that we receive it? Or do you think there is yet another time that we lose it?"

"No, Socrates, none at all. I think I spoke without thinking."

"Well then, Simmias, is this how we feel about this? That, if those things about which we are constantly talking, really do exist and nothing beautiful nor virtuous and the essence of all other such things and so do all the things we perceive with our senses, the essence of which existed before we have even discovered them,

and if we refer these things to our perceptions, well then does it not follow that nor would our soul have existed before we were born? Because, surely, if these perceptions did not exist before we were born then surely nor would our souls?

Is this not how things are and is it not equally necessary for these perceptions, as for our souls to have existed even before we did, which also means that if these perception did not exist, then nor would have our souls?"

"Indeed it is equally necessary," said Simmias "and our argument then goes beautifully to where you were just saying that both, our soul as well as the essence existed before we were born. Because I at least have nothing more obvious in my mind, nothing is more definitely proven, than that all these things, things like beauty and virtue about which you were just talking, do, in fact exist," said Simmias.

"But has it been proven also to Cebes' satisfaction?" Asked Socrates. "Because we must persuade him as well."

"I believe Cebes has been persuaded enough, Socrates, even though I think he's the most stubborn skeptic I know when it comes to accepting arguments. Still, I think on this issue he has been persuaded well enough that our soul existed before we were born. However, I'm not certain I, myself am convinced that our soul exists even after we die," said Simmias. "I cannot get rid of the view that many people have, which is the one that Cebes has mention, that once we die our souls disperses and that is possibly the end of it. Because what's there to prevent it from being born and formed , from some other place and to exist even before it enters the human body and then when it comes and the separates from it, for it then also to be totally destroyed?"

"You are right, Simmias," said Cebes, "because it seems that half of what should be proven has been proven, which is that our soul existed before we were born. Now, if we want the proof to be complete we need now to prove also that it continues to exist in no less a fashion after we die."

"But this has been proven already, Simmias and Cebes," said Socrates. "All you have to do is join the two views together, this one to which we have just arrived to the one we formed earlier, which is that every living thing is born out of something that has died. Because if the soul existed earlier, it is necessary that as it moves into life and is born, that it is not born from anything but that from which it died. How can it be that it does not exist after death, since it is necessary for it to be born anew?

So, men what you are asking to be proven has been proven.

Still, it seems to me that you Cebes and you Simmias are happy to go on discussing this argument further, as if you have this childish fear that perhaps the truth is that the soul is taken by the wind and is dispersed as it leaves the body, especially when a man dies, not during fine weather but during a huge windstorm."

Cebes laughed at this and said, "well then Socrates, try to convince us either that we are right in our fear, or, better still, that we should not be. In fact there might be someone among us who is also afraid of these things and so we must try to persuade him that he should not be afraid of death in the same way that one is afraid of terrible beasties.[footnoteRef:29]" [29: μορμολύκεια.]

"In that case we should get someone to sing odes of exorcism every day until he is cured."

"But where will we get another exorcist, Socrates, now that you are leaving us?"

"Greece," said Socrates, "is quite a large country and within her there will certainly be some able exorcists. And then there are many foreign nations as well which we should visit and search through for this exorcist without the slightest concern about the expense because there is nothing more appropriate to spend our money on. As well, Cebes, in case you cannot find anyone else who could perform this exorcism better than you then you should also search for him amongst yourselves.""Yes, these things will be done," Cebes went on, "but let us get back, if you like, to where we have left our discussion."

"But of course, I would like that," said Socrates. "How could I possibly not?"

"Good."

"Now, we must ask ourselves a question," said Socrates, "which is this: what sort of thing is susceptible to this experience, that is, the dispersing[footnoteRef:30], and which sort of thing should we fear that will suffer it and which would not, following which we should investigate which of the two applies to the soul, (whether it is dispersible or not) and from the result of that investigation whether we should be hopeful or fearful about the fate of our soul." [30: τὸ διασκεδάννυσθαι]

"Quite so," said Cebes.

"So, then," continued Socrates, "that which is brought together by combining other things and is thus a compounded substance, is liable to experiencing a dispersal in the same way it was combined?"

"So it seems," said Cebes.

"And can we also come to the view that if something is not a compound, that it -and it alone- is not susceptible to this dispersal, more so than any other thing?"

"I think you are right, Socrates," said Cebes.

"Then all those things that always remain in a constant and unchanging state are obviously uncompounded (that is, they do not consist of other parts) but those things that are changing and are never in the same state, these things are compounded (that is, they do consist of other parts). Is that not so?"

"I, at least think so, Socrates."

"Let us now go to those things about which we were talking earlier. This essence about which we named during our questions and answers, the true essence, is it constant or ever changing? Do things like equality or beauty, do they, of themselves ever change at all or does each of them stay in the same constant and unchanging state, never allowing any variation of any sort at all?"

"It cannot be otherwise, Socrates but for them to stay in the same state, accepting no change at all."

"What you are saying then, Cebes is that all these beautiful things, such as beautiful people or beautiful horses or beautiful clothes or all other such beautiful things with similar names and may be called equally beautiful, they are all similarly in a constant state or are they the reverse, that is, they are constantly changing? Could they, in fact be constantly changing and hardly ever the same, whether compared to themselves or to each other?"

"They are constantly in a state of change, Socrates," replied Cebes.

[79]

"And so then these things you can touch them and see them and know them with your other senses but the constant things, the things that never change, you can only see with your mind because they have no form and are invisible."

"Very true again, Socrates."

"Shall we then accept that there are two types of things, the type of the visible and that of the invisible?"

"Yes," said Cebes, "let us accept that"

"And that the invisible are always the same and constant, whereas the visible are ever changing and inconstant."

"Yes, let us accept this also."

"Now tell me Cebes, do we consist of anything else other than these two things, the body and the soul?"

"No, there is nothing else."

"To which of these two types of things, then does the body resemble and is related more closely?"

"This is quite obvious in every human," said Cebes. "Man is related to the visible things."

"And the soul? Is it a visible or invisible thing?"

"To the humans, at least, it is invisible."

"But we, of course say that things are either visible or invisible, according to the nature of the humans, or is there some other nature?"

"No, according to humans," replied Cebes.

"And as for the soul, do we say that it is visible or invisible?"

"That it is not visible."

"So it is invisible?" asked Socrates

"Yes."

"So the soul then resembles more the invisible rather than the body which is more like the visible," said Socrates.

"Without a doubt, Socrates."

"And so, as we were saying a while back, when the soul uses the body, either through sight or hearing or through some other sense to examine something, because after all, this is what the body does, to examine things through its senses, it is then dragged out of the body towards those things which are ever changing and then, because it touches them, the soul itself wanders about, is confused and shaken as if it was drunk. Is that not so, Cebes," asked Socrates.

"But of course," replied Cebes.

"But when the soul does the examining by itself," continued Socrates, "it leaves the body and goes to the world of the pure and the immortal and the constant and unchanging and because it is of the same nature as itself it stays always with it and stops wandering about and whenever it is left to itself and is permitted to be independent stays in the same state because it is in contact with things of the same nature as it.

Do we not call this experience of the soul, "wisdom?"[footnoteRef:31] [31: φρόνησις]

"Well said, Socrates. It is true," said Cebes.

"Still, from what we said earlier and from what we are saying now, to which of the two types[footnoteRef:32] do you think the soul is more alike and related?" [32: ie, the visible or the invisible]

"By this method, Socrates, to me at least it appears that even the most unintelligent man would agree that the soul would be most similar to that which is constant and changeless rather than with what is ever changing," replied Cebes.

"And what about the body," asked Socrates.

"It is more similar to the other."[footnoteRef:33] [33: ie, the visible]

"Now look at it from this point of view, Cebes," continued Socrates. "that, when the soul and the body are together, nature demands that one of them,[footnoteRef:34] must be the servant of the other and to be ordered by it and that the other, to do the managing. From this perspective then, which of the two do you think is similar to the divine and which to the mortal? Or do you believe that nature does not allow the divine should rule and lead and the mortal to be ruled and be lead?" [34: ie, the body, to be the servant of the soul.]

"It seems to me that it does, Socrates. Nature does allow the divine to rule," said Cebes.

"So with which of the two is the soul similar?"

"Clearly, Socrates," answered Cebes, "the soul resembles the divine and the body resembles the mortal."

"Now then Cebes, from all that we have discussed, examine whether it is possible for us to conclude that the soul is most similar to the divine, in that it is immortal and intelligent and unique and non-dispersible and is always in the same unchangeable state,[footnoteRef:35] whereas the body is most similar to the human and mortal and unintelligent and of many forms and easily dispersible and which is never in the same state.[footnoteRef:36] [35: ie, constant] [36: ie, inconstant. ]

Do we need to say anything more, dear Cebes, to prove this is how these two things are?"

"No," said Cebes, "we need say nothing more."

"In this case then," Socrates went on, "can we not conclude that the body dissolves quickly whereas the soul is entirely or almost entirely indissoluble?"

"Of course."

"So you'll observe, Cebes, that when a man dies, the visible part, which is his body and which we call the corpse and which is at a visible place and which must dissolve and disintegrate, does not suffer any of this immediately but can remain in this state for a long time after death, especially if his body is in good condition and the season is favourable. In fact, if the body is embalmed, as are those in Egypt, it will remain intact for a long time, perhaps even for ever. A number of its parts, in fact, even after the rest of the body decays, such as the bones and its tendons will remain, shall we say, immortal. Or is this not so?"

"It is, Socrates."

"Whereas the soul, the invisible part which travels to another place which, like it, is noble and pure and invisible, I mean, in reality, in the world of Hades, the good and wise god, which is, if he is willing, where I and my soul will go very soon. This is the soul which has emerged from Nature and which will separate itself from the body, and which will disperse, is this the soul which, according to what most people say, we will lose immediately?

Impossible, dear Cebes and Simmias. What will most probably happen is this: If the soul separates itself from the body, cleanly, without dragging with it anything that belongs to the body -because it was never willing to have anything to do with it while alive but always avoided it and always practiced keeping itself withdrawn into itself because this is nothing more than evidence that it loved wisdom and that it was always studying how to die well. [81] Or is this not a study of dying?"

"Of course it is," said Cebes.

"Well then," Socrates continued, "since the soul finds itself in this condition, does it not go to a similar state as itself, that is, the invisible, the divine, the immortal and the wise and when it gets there, does it not earn the reward of being happy free from wandering about and from concerns and fears and wild desires and to be free from all those human evils and, as they initiates say, spend the rest of the time with the gods? Shall we admit this, Cebes or not?"

"Indeed we shall, by Zeus," replied Cebes.

"So I believe, Cebes," continued Socrates, "that if when the soul leaves the body is utterly polluted and impure because it has lived all its life within it and took care of it and loved it and was enchanted by of its desires and pleasures so much so that it thought that there was no other reality but that of the body,[footnoteRef:37] something which a man may touch and see and drink and eat and use aphrodisiac substances; and is dark and invisible to the eye and is comprehensible only through philosophy and is accustomed to hating and fearing and running away, do you think that such a thing,[footnoteRef:38] can leave the body pure and unpolluted?" [37: σωματοειδές] [38: ie, the soul]

"Not at all," replied Cebes.

"Yes, I believe that the soul will leave the body wrapped up in something that has the shape of the body which its association with it and its constant care of it has made itself part of its nature."

"Indeed."

"And we must believe, my friend that this pollution is heavy and burdensome and earthly and visible, a burden which drags the soul back into the world of the visible and because it fears the invisible and Hades wanders about the monuments and the tombs and around places where shadowy shapes of souls and apparitions have been seen which make these impure souls visible because they have not been released from the body purely but still take part in the visible world and that's why they are seen."

"Quite possibly, Socrates" said Cebes.

"It is also possible, Cebes, that these souls are not the souls of the virtuous but those of the evil which are forced to wander all around such places, being punished for the evil life they previously lived; and they continue to wander about because of the desires of the body which follows them everywhere and is bound within it. They are tied to those evil habits they practiced during their lives."

"Which habits do you mean, Socrates," asked Cebes.

"Those who thoughtlessly indulge in gluttony, for example," answered Socrates "and violence and drunkenness. Their souls would enter the bodies of other species, like donkeys and the like. Don't you agree?"

"I think your view is correct, Socrates."

"Whereas," continued Socrates, "the souls of those who preferred injustice and tyranny and violent theft will be put into the bodies of wolves and hawks and buzzards -or where else might we suggest such souls might end up?"

"Without question, Socrates, they would end up in such places," said Cebes.

"And so then, Cebes, it is also obvious that each soul would end up in such a place that corresponds with what their owners practiced when they were alive."

"Yes, obviously so," agreed Cebes.

"And therefore, the happiest souls are those who had practiced by simple habit and without philosophising about them, the virtues most acceptable in a civil society, virtues which we call prudence and justice. Are they not the souls that end up in the best of places, Cebes?""Why are they the happiest, Socrates?"

"Because," answered Socrates, "it follows that they will return to that species of animal which is like them, social and placid, perhaps like bees or wasps or ants or even begin again in the same species, that of men and become again men of moderation."

"Yes, that follows," agreed Cebes.

"As for ending up with the gods, that is not permissible to anyone who did not study philosophy or departed absolutely pure, no one who does not love learning.[footnoteRef:39] And this is why, my dear friends Simmias and Cebes, the true lovers of wisdom avoid most adamantly the desires of the body, never giving in to them and are never afraid lest their wealth is destroyed or they are left poor, as do all the others who love money. Nor are they afraid of dishonor or the shame of being evil, as do those who love honour and glory. This is why they avoid such things." [39: φιλομαθεῖ.]

"Because those things would not seem proper to them, Socrates," said Cebes.

"Quite so, indeed," said Socrates "and that's why those who care about their soul do not live answering to the demands of their body and, having said good by to all that, do not follow the same path as do that other lot of men because those men don't know where they are going. Since the lovers of Philosophy know that they must not commit deeds that are against Philosophy and against the freedom and purification that Philosophy affords them they turn and follow her wherever she leads them."

"How so, Socrates?"

“I will tell you,” answered Socrates. “This is because those who love learning know well that because Philosophy has received their soul fettered and glued into their body and forced to look at things that are real as if from within a prison and not look at Philosophy herself through herself, and that, further, she sees that this soul of theirs is rolling in utter ignorance and moreover, that this imprisonment comes about because of desires that make the man be an aide to his own imprisonment; and, as I was saying, those who love learning know that once Philosophy receives their soul in this state, she slowly encourages it and tries to set it free by pointing out to it that whilst the observations made by the eye and the ear and all the other senses, are nothing but a deception, she convinces it to distance itself from these senses and use them only when it’s absolutely necessary. Then she urges it to gather and collect itself into itself and to trust nothing else but itself, examined by itself.

Whatever real thing it wants to examine, if it is examined by any other means it cannot be believed as being true since it will be inconstant and because it will also be tangible and visible and not intelligible and invisible.

Since a true philosopher's soul must not stand against this freedom stays away as much as it can from pleasures and desires and griefs and fears, thinking that whenever a man feels excessive pleasure or fear or grief or desire, he will suffer from these things in the same way as one will suffer greater harm than one might have expected from, say, when he is ill or when he has lost some wealth through these desires, a suffering in fact greater than he would have anticipated.

"And which suffering is this, Socrates," asked Cebes.

"It is that which everyone's soul is forced to believe during excessive pleasure or pain, which is that these feelings are the purest and the most true. This is simply not so. And are not these things that give him such pleasure and such pain mostly visible?" "Indeed, they are," Cebes said.

"And so then, Cebes, does not the soul that suffers these things, not usually ties itself closer to the body?[footnoteRef:40] [40: καταδεῖται ψυχὴ ὑπὸ σώματος]

"How does it do that, Socrates?" asked Cebes.

"Each pleasure and each pain is like a nail[footnoteRef:41] and fixes and glues the soul onto the body and makes it becomes just like the body and it will believe that everything that the body believes to be true is true and thus, since it will have the same views as does the body, it will find pleasure in the same things as the body does and will be forced, I believe, to attain the same habits and customs as the body, so much so that it will never manage to arrive into the realms of Hades pure and free of the pollutions of the body but it will sink into another body and, like a seed that is sown will grow out of it, thus not being able to take part in the communion with the divine and the pure and the unique." [41: ἧλον]

"What you say is true, Socrates," said Cebes.

"And so," continued Socrates, "this is why those who truly desire to learn are temperate and brave and not because of the reasons the masses give. Or do you disagree?"

"Not at all, Socrates."

"Certainly not," Socrates continued. "Because the philosopher's soul can only think in this way. It is not possible for it to think that once Philosophy sets the soul free, it should then surrender itself to pleasure and to displeasure, in other words to tie itself again into these things and to work like that over and over again endlessly, as Penelope worked on that tapestry of hers, never intending to finish it.[footnoteRef:42] [42: Penelope weaved a shroud for her elderly father-in-law. She weaved during the day and undid the work at night, in an effort to delay making a decision as to which of her suitors she would marry, hoping that in the meantime her husband, Odysseus would return. ]

It will, instead, prepare itself to live in peace by staying away from such things of passion and by following reason and staying within the bounds of reasoned thought, always mindful of the truth and the sacred and by believing only in that which is not mere opinion, nourished by this thinking and believing that it should live in this manner while it lives here on earth.

[84b] Then, when it ends its life here on earth it will move on to another soul which is similar to it in nature and thus be freed from all human ills.

And so, Simmias and Cebes, a soul which has lived such a life will not be afraid lest it be snatched by the wind from the body it leaves and driven this way and that and vanish into nothingness.

When Socrates said all this there was a long silence and Socrates himself looked as if he was deeply absorbed by what he had said, as we were also. Cebes and Simmias began to talk among themselves and when Socrates saw them he asked, "what are you two talking about? Do you perhaps think that I have said something wrong? Because the issue still has many questions unanswered and there are many things one can object to, if one wants to delve into these things deeper. So, if you're thinking of some other issue, I shall say nothing more about this. However, if you have some questions relating to it, do not hesitate to ask them and to discuss the matter between yourselves and if there are more things to be said to let me in on the discussion, if you think that I could be of any help to you."

To this Simmias said, "well, to tell you the truth, Socrates, we've spent quite a bit of time just now we both had a question to ask and we urged each other to ask it of you but we didn't want to disturb you and annoy you, in your present unfortunate circumstances."

When Socrates heard this he laughed softly and said, "what a difficult job I would have to persuade others that I do not find my circumstances unfortunate at all, if, in fact, I can't even persuade you of that! It seems though that you are afraid that I am now more irritable than I was before or that I behave like those prophetic swans who sing more than usual and at their best, when they feel that they are about to die, rejoicing[footnoteRef:43] in the fact that they will soon go to their god, whose servants they are. [43: γεγηθότες]

[85] Men though, being afraid of death, mistake these songs thinking them to be sorrowful as if the swans are mourning their death.

They do not think of the other birds who do not sing when they are hungry or cold or because of some other misfortune. Not the nightingale, not the swallow nor even the hoopee sing, as men say, out of sadness. No, I don't believe these birds, including the swans, sing out of sadness but being dedicated to Apollo, they have the ability to prophesy and can see all the good things that are in Hades, so they enjoy that day more so than all the others and their songs re