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Part II.
Part II.
And when they consider all this, must not true philosophers make a
reflection, of which they will speak to one another in such words as these: We
have found, they will say, a path of speculation which seems to bring us and
the argument to the conclusion that while we are in the body, and while the
soul is mingled with this mass of evil, our desire will not be satisfied, and
our desire is of the truth. For the body is a source of endless trouble to us
by reason of the mere requirement of food; and also is liable to diseases
which overtake and impede us in the search after truth: and by filling us so
full of loves, and lusts, and fears, and fancies, and idols, and every sort of
folly, prevents our ever having, as people say, so much as a thought. For
whence come wars, and fightings, and factions? whence but form the body and
the lusts of the body? For wars are occasioned by the love of money, and money
has to be acquired for the sake and in the service of the body; and in
consequence of all these things the time which ought to be given to philosophy
is lost. Moreover, if there is time and an inclination toward philosophy, yet
the body introduces a turmoil and confusion and fear into the course of
speculation, and hinders us from seeing the truth: and all experience shows
that if we would have pure knowledge of anything we must be quit of the body,
and the soul in herself must behold all things in themselves: then I suppose
that we shall attain that which we desire, and of which we say that we are
lovers, and that is wisdom, not while we live, but after death, as the
argument shows; for if while in company with the body the soul cannot have
pure knowledge, one of two things seems to follow - either knowledge is not to
be attained at all, or, if at all, after death. For then, and not till then,
the soul will be in herself alone and without the body. In this present life,
I reckon that we make the nearest approach to knowledge when we have the least
possible concern or interest in the body, and are not saturated with the
bodily nature, but remain pure until the hour when God himself is pleased to
release us. And then the foolishness of the body will be cleared away and we
shall be pure and hold converse with other pure souls, and know of ourselves
the clear light everywhere; and this is surely the light of truth. For no
impure thing is allowed to approach the pure. These are the sort of words,
Simmias, which the true lovers of wisdom cannot help saying to one another,
and thinking. You will agree with me in that?
Certainly, Socrates.
But if this is true, O my friend, then there is great hope that, going
whither I go, I shall there be satisfied with that which has been the chief
concern of you and me in our past lives. And now that the hour of departure is
appointed to me, this is the hope with which I depart, and not I only, but
every man who believes that he has his mind purified.
Certainly, replied Simmias.
And what is purification but the separation of the soul from the body, as
I was saying before; the habit of the soul gathering and collecting herself
into herself, out of all the courses of the body; the dwelling in her own
place alone, as in another life, so also in this, as far as she can; the
release of the soul from the chains of the body?
Very true, he said.
And what is that which is termed death, but this very separation and
release of the soul from the body?
To be sure, he said.
And the true philosophers, and they only, study and are eager to release
the soul. Is not the separation and release of the soul from the body their
especial study?
That is true.
And as I was saying at first, there would be a ridiculous contradiction
in men studying to live as nearly as they can in a state of death, and yet
repining when death comes.
Certainly.
Then, Simmias, as the true philosophers are ever studying death, to them,
of all men, death is the least terrible. Look at the matter in this way: how
inconsistent of them to have been always enemies of the body, and wanting to
have the soul alone, and when this is granted to them, to be trembling and
repining; instead of rejoicing at their departing to that place where, when
they arrive, they hope to gain that which in life they loved (and this was
wisdom), and at the same time to be rid of the company of their enemy. Many a
man has been willing to go to the world below in the hope of seeing there an
earthly love, or wife, or son, and conversing with them. And will he who is a
true lover of wisdom, and is persuaded in like manner that only in the world
below he can worthily enjoy her, still repine at death? Will he not depart
with joy? Surely he will, my friend, if he be a true philosopher. For he will
have a firm conviction that there only, and nowhere else, he can find wisdom
in her purity. And if this be true, he would be very absurd, as I was saying,
if he were to fear death.
He would, indeed, replied Simmias.
And when you see a man who is repining at the approach of death, is not
his reluctance a sufficient proof that he is not a lover of wisdom, but a
lover of the body, and probably at the same time a lover of either money or
power, or both?
That is very true, he replied.
There is a virtue, Simmias, which is named courage. Is not that a special
attribute of the philosopher?
Certainly.
Again, there is temperance. Is not the calm, and control, and disdain of
the passions which even the many call temperance, a quality belonging only to
those who despite the body and live in philosophy?
That is not to be denied.
For the courage and temperance of other men, if you will consider them,
are really a contradiction.
How is that, Socrates?
Well, he said, you are aware that death is regarded by men in general as
a great evil.
That is true, he said.
And do not courageous men endure death because they are afraid of yet
greater evils?
That is true.
Then all but the philosophers are courageous only from fear, and because
they are afraid; and yet that a man should be courageous from fear, and
because he is a coward, is surely a strange thing.
Very true.
And are not the temperate exactly in the same case? They are temperate
because they are intemperate - which may seem to be a contradiction, but is
nevertheless the sort of thing which happens with this foolish temperance. For
there are pleasures which they must have, and are afraid of losing; and
therefore they abstain from one class of pleasures because they are overcome
by another: and whereas intemperance is defined as "being under the dominion
of pleasure," they overcome only because they are overcome by pleasure. And
that is what I mean by saying that they are temperate through intemperance.
That appears to be true.
Yet the exchange of one fear or pleasure or pain for another fear or
pleasure or pain, which are measured like coins, the greater with the less, is
not the exchange of virtue. O my dear Simmias, is there not one true coin for
which all things ought to exchange? - and that is wisdom; and only in exchange
for this, and in company with this, is anything truly bought or sold, whether
courage or temperance or justice. And is not all true virtue the companion of
wisdom, no matter what fears or pleasures or other similar goods or evils may
or may not attend her? But the virtue which is made up of these goods, when
they are severed from wisdom and exchanged with one another, is a shadow of
virtue only, nor is there any freedom or health or truth in her; but in the
true exchange there is a purging away of all these things, and temperance, and
justice, and courage, and wisdom herself are a purgation of them. And I
conceive that the founders of the mysteries had a real meaning and were not
mere triflers when they intimated in a figure long ago that he who passes
unsanctified and uninitiated into the world below will live in a slough, but
that he who arrives there after initiation and purification will dwell with
the gods. For "many," as they say in the mysteries, "are the thyrsus bearers,
but few are the mystics," - meaning, as I interpret the words, the true
philosophers. In the number of whom I have been seeking, according to my
ability, to find a place during my whole life; whether I have sought in a
right way or not, and whether I have succeeded or not, I shall truly know in a
little while, if God will, when I myself arrive in the other world: that is my
belief. And now, Simmias and Cebes, I have answered those who charge me with
not grieving or repining at parting from you and my masters in this world; and
I am right in not repining, for I believe that I shall find other masters and
friends who are as good in the world below. But all men cannot believe this,
and I shall be glad if my words have any more success with you than with the
judges of the Athenians.
Cebes answered: I agree, Socrates, in the greater part of what you say.
But in what relates to the soul, men are apt to be incredulous; they fear that
when she leaves the body her place may be nowhere, and that on the very day of
death she may be destroyed and perish - immediately on her release from the
body, issuing forth like smoke or air and vanishing away into nothingness. For
if she could only hold together and be herself after she was released from the
evils of the body, there would be good reason to hope, Socrates, that what you
say is true. But much persuasion and many arguments are required in order to
prove that when the man is dead the soul yet exists, and has any force of
intelligence.
True, Cebes, said Socrates; and shall I suggest that we talk a little of
the probabilities of these things?
I am sure, said Cebes, that I should greatly like to know your opinion
about them.
I reckon, said Socrates, that no one who heard me now, not even if he
were one of my old enemies, the comic poets, could accuse me of idle talking
about matters in which I have no concern. Let us, then, if you please, proceed
with the inquiry.
Whether the souls of men after death are or are not in the world below,
is a question which may be argued in this manner: The ancient doctrine of
which I have been speaking affirms that they go from this into the other
world, and return hither, and are born from the dead. Now if this be true, and
the living come from the dead, then our souls must be in the other world, for
if not, how could they be born again? And this would be conclusive, if there
were any real evidence that the living are only born from the dead; but if
there is no evidence of this, then other arguments will have to be adduced.
That is very true, replied Cebes.
Then let us consider this question, not in relation to man only, but in
relation to animals generally, and to plants, and to everything of which there
is generation, and the proof will be easier. Are not all things which have
opposites generated out of their opposites? I mean such things as good and
evil, just and unjust - and there are innumerable other opposites which are
generated out of opposites. And I want to show that this holds universally of
all opposites; I mean to say, for example, that anything which becomes greater
must become greater after being less.
True.
And that which becomes less must have been once greater and then becomes
less.
Yes.
And the weaker is generated from the stronger, and the swifter from the
slower.
Very true.
And the worse is from the better, and the more just is from the more
unjust.
Of course.
And is this true of all opposites? and we are convinced that all of them
are generated out of opposites?
Yes.
And in this universal opposition of all things, are there not also two
intermediate processes which are ever going on, from one to the other, and
back again; where there is a greater and a less there is also an intermediate
process of increase and diminution, and that which grows is said to wax, and
that which decays to wane?
Yes, he said.
And there are many other processes, such as division and composition,
cooling and heating, which equally involve a passage into and out of one
another. And this holds of all opposites, even though not always expressed in
words - they are generated out of one another, and there is a passing or
process from one to the other of them?
Very true, he replied.
Well, and is there not an opposite of life, as sleep is the opposite of
waking?
True, he said.
And what is that?
Death, he answered.
And these, then, are generated, if they are opposites, the one from the
other, and have there their two intermediate processes also?
Of course.
Now, said Socrates, I will analyze one of the two pairs of opposites
which I have mentioned to you, and also its intermediate processes, and you
shall analyze the other to me. The state of sleep is opposed to the state of
waking, and out of sleeping waking is generated, and out of waking, sleeping,
and the process of generation is in the one case falling asleep, and in the
other waking up. Are you agreed about that?
Quite agreed.
Then suppose that you analyze life and death to me in the same manner. Is
not death opposed to life?
Yes.
And they are generated one from the other?
Yes.
What is generated from life?
Death.
And what from death?
I can only say in answer - life.
Then the living, whether things or persons, Cebes, are generated from the
dead?
That is clear, he replied.
Then the inference is, that our souls are in the world below?
That is true.
And one of the two processes or generations is visible - for surely the
act of dying is visible?
Surely, he said.
And may not the other be inferred as the complement of nature, who is not
to be supposed to go on one leg only? And if not, a corresponding process of
generation in death must also be assigned to her?
Certainly, he replied.
And what is that process?
Revival.
And revival, if there be such a thing, is the birth of the dead into the
world of the living?
Quite true.
Then there is a new way in which we arrive at the inference that the
living come from the dead, just as the dead come from the living; and if this
is true, then the souls of the dead must be in some place out of which they
come again. And this, as I think, has been satisfactorily proved.
Yes, Socrates, he said; all this seems to flow necessarily out of our
previous admissions.
And that these admissions are not unfair, Cebes, he said, may be shown,
as I think, in this way: If generation were in a straight line only, and there
were no compensation or circle in nature, no turn or return into one another,
then you know that all things would at last have the same form and pass into
the same state, and there would be no more generation of them.
What do you mean? he said.
A simple thing enough, which I will illustrate by the case of sleep, he
replied. You know that if there were no compensation of sleeping and waking,
the story of the sleeping Endymion would in the end have no meaning, because
all other things would be asleep, too, and he would not be thought of. Or if
there were composition only, and no division of substances, then the chaos of
Anaxagoras would come again. And in like manner, my dear Cebes, if all things
which partook of life were to die, and after they were dead remained in the
form of death, and did not come to life again, all would at last die, and
nothing would be alive - how could this be otherwise.? For if the living
spring from any others who are not the dead, and they die, must not all things
at last be swallowed up in death?
There is no escape from that, Socrates, said Cebes; and I think that what
you say is entirely true.
Yes, he said, Cebes, I entirely think so, too; and we are not walking in
a vain imagination; but I am confident in the belief that there truly is such
a thing as living again, and that the living spring from the dead, and that
the souls of the dead are in existence, and that the good souls have a better
portion than the evil.
Cebes added: Your favorite doctrine, Socrates, that knowledge is simply
recollection, if true, also necessarily implies a previous time in which we
learned that which we now recollect. But this would be impossible unless our
soul was in some place before existing in the human form; here, then, is
another argument of the soul`s immortality.
But tell me, Cebes, said Simmias, interposing, what proofs are given of
this doctrine of recollection? I am not very sure at this moment that I
remember them.
One excellent proof, said Cebes, is afforded by questions. If you put a
question to a person in a right way, he will give a true answer of himself;
but how could he do this unless there were knowledge and right reason already
in him? And this is most clearly shown when he is taken to a diagram or to
anything of that sort.
But if, said Socrates, you are still incredulous, Simmias, I would ask
you whether you may not agree with me when you look at the matter in another
way; I mean, if you are still incredulous as to whether knowledge is
recollection.
Incredulous, I am not, said Simmias; but I want to have this doctrine of
recollection brought to my own recollection, and, from what Cebes has said, I
am beginning to recollect and be convinced; but I should still like to hear
what more you have to say.
This is what I would say, he replied: We should agree, if I am not
mistaken, that what a man recollects he must have known at some previous time.
Very true.
And what is the nature of this recollection? And, in asking this, I mean
to ask whether, when a person has already seen or heard or in any way
perceived anything, and he knows not only that, but something else of which he
has not the same, but another knowledge, we may not fairly say that he
recollects that which comes into his mind. Are we agreed about that?
What do you mean?
I mean what I may illustrate by the following instance: The knowledge of
a lyre is not the same as the knowledge of a man?
True.
And yet what is the feeling of lovers when they recognize a lyre, or a
garment, or anything else which the beloved has been in the habit of using? Do
not they, from knowing the lyre, form in the mind`s eye an image of the youth
to whom the lyre belongs? And this is recollection: and in the same way anyone
who sees Simmias may remember Cebes; and there are endless other things of the
same nature.
Yes, indeed, there are - endless, replied Simmias.
And this sort of thing, he said, is recollection, and is most commonly a
process of recovering that which has been forgotten through time and
inattention.
Very true, he said.
Well; and may you not also from seeing the picture of a horse or a lyre
remember a man? and from the picture of Simmias, you may be led to remember
Cebes?
True.
Or you may also be led to the recollection of Simmias himself?
True, he said.
And in all these cases, the recollection may be derived from things
either like or unlike?
That is true.
And when the recollection is derived from like things, then there is sure
to be another question, which is, whether the likeness of that which is
recollected is in any way defective or not.
Very true, he said.
And shall we proceed a step further, and affirm that there is such a
thing as equality, not of wood with wood, or of stone with stone, but that,
over and above this, there is equality in the abstract? Shall we affirm this?
Affirm, yes, and swear to it, replied Simmias, with all the confidence in
life.
And do we know the nature of this abstract essence?
To be sure, he said.
And whence did we obtain this knowledge? Did we not see equalities of
material things, such as pieces of wood and stones, and gather from them the
idea of an equality which is different from them? - you will admit that? Or
look at the matter again in this way: Do not the same pieces of wood or stone
appear at one time equal, and at another time unequal?
That is certain.
But are real equals ever unequal? or is the idea of equality ever
inequality?
That surely was never yet known, Socrates.
Then these (so - called) equals are not the same with the idea of
equality?
I should say, clearly not, Socrates.
And yet from these equals, although differing from the idea of equality,
you conceived and attained that idea?
Very true, he said.
Which might be like, or might be unlike them?
Yes.
But that makes no difference; whenever from seeing one thing you
conceived another, whether like or unlike, there must surely have been an act
of recollection?
Very true.
But what would you say of equal portions of wood and stone, or other
material equals? and what is the impression produced by them? Are they equals
in the same sense as absolute equality? or do they fall short of this in a
measure?
Yes, he said, in a very great measure, too.
And must we not allow that when I or anyone look at any object, and
perceive that the object aims at being some other thing, but falls short of,
and cannot attain to it - he who makes this observation must have had previous
knowledge of that to which, as he says, the other, although similar, was
inferior?
Certainly.
And has not this been our case in the matter of equals and of absolute
equality?
Precisely.
Then we must have known absolute equality previously to the time when we
first saw the material equals, and reflected that all these apparent equals
aim at this absolute equality, but fall short of it?
That is true.
And we recognize also that this absolute equality has only been known,
and can only be known, through the medium of sight or touch, or of some other
sense. And this I would affirm of all such conceptions.
Yes, Socrates, as far as the argument is concerned, one of them is the
same as the other.
And from the senses, then, is derived the knowledge that all sensible
things aim at an idea of equality of which they fall short - is not that true?
Yes.
Then before we began to see or hear or perceive in any way, we must have
had a knowledge of absolute equality, or we could not have referred to that
the equals which are derived from the senses - for to that they all aspire,
and of that they fall short?
That, Socrates, is certainly to be inferred from the previous statements.
And did we not see and hear and acquire our other senses as soon as we
were born?
Certainly.
Then we must have acquired the knowledge of the ideal equal at some time
previous to this?
Yes.
That is to say, before we were born, I suppose?
True.
And if we acquired this knowledge before we were born, and were born
having it, then we also knew before we were born and at the instant of birth
not only equal or the greater or the less, but all other ideas; for we are not
speaking only of equality absolute, but of beauty, goodness, justice,
holiness, and all which we stamp with the name of essence in the dialetical
process, when we ask and answer questions. Of all this we may certainly affirm
that we acquired the knowledge before birth?
That is true.
But if, after having acquired, we have not forgotten that which we
acquired, then we must always have been born with knowledge, and shall always
continue to know as long as life lasts - for knowing is the acquiring and
retaining knowledge and not forgetting. Is not forgetting, Simmias, just the
losing of knowledge?
Quite true, Socrates.
But if the knowledge which we acquired before birth was lost by us at
birth, and afterwards by the use of the senses we recovered that which we
previously knew, will not that which we call learning be a process of
recovering our knowledge, and may not this be rightly termed recollection by
us?
Very true.
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