Part 12 (2/2)

”So, by Jupiter!” said Cebes.

69. ”But, I think, if it departs from the body polluted and impure, as having constantly held communion with the body, and having served and loved it, and been bewitched by it, through desires and pleasures, so as to think that there is nothing real except what is corporeal, which one can touch and see, and drink and eat, and employ for sensual purposes; but what is dark and invisible to the eyes, which is intellectual and apprehended by philosophy, having been accustomed to hate, fear, and shun this, do you think that a soul thus affected can depart from the body by itself, and uncontaminated?”

”By no means whatever,” he replied.

”But I think it will be impressed with that which is corporeal, which the intercourse and communion of the body, through constant a.s.sociation and great attention, have made natural to it.”

”Certainly.”

”We must think, my dear Cebes, that this is ponderous and heavy, earthly and visible, by possessing which such a soul is weighed down, and drawn again into the visible world through dread of the invisible and of Hades, wandering, as it is said, among monuments and tombs, about which, indeed, certain shadowy phantoms of souls have been seen, being such images as those souls produced which have not departed pure from the body, but which partake of the visible; on which account, also, they are visible.”

”That is probable, Socrates.”

70. ”Probable indeed, Cebes; and not that these are the souls of the good, but of the wicked, which are compelled to wander about such places, paying the penalty of their former conduct, which was evil; and they wander about so long until, through the desire of the corporeal nature that accompanies them, they are again united to a body; and they are united, as is probable, to animals having the same habits as those they have given themselves up to during life.”

”But what do you say these are, Socrates?”

”For instance, those who have given themselves up to gluttony, wantonness and drinking, and have put no restraint on themselves, will probably be clothed in the form of a.s.ses and brutes of that kind. Do you not think so?”

”You say what is very probable.”

”And that such as have set great value on injustice, tyranny and rapine, will be clothed in the species of wolves, hawks and kites! Where else can we say such souls go?”

”Without doubt,” said Cebes, ”into such as these.”

”Is it not, then, evident,” he continued, ”as to the rest, whither each will go, according to the resemblances of their several pursuits?”

71. ”It is evident,” he replied. ”How not?”

”Of these, then,” he said, ”are not they the most happy, and do they not go to the best place, who have practiced that social and civilized virtue which they call temperance and justice, and which is produced from habit and exercise, without philosophy and reflection?”

”In what respect are these the most happy?”

”Because it is probable that these should again migrate into a corresponding civilized and peaceable kind of animals, such as bees perhaps, or wasps, or ants, or even into the same human species again, and from these become moderate men.”

”It is probable.”

”But it is not lawful for any one who has not studied philosophy, and departed this life perfectly pure, to pa.s.s into the rank of G.o.ds, but only for the true lover of wisdom. And on this account, my friends Simmias and Cebes, those who philosophize rightly, abstain from all bodily desires, and persevere in doing so, and do not give themselves up to them, not fearing the loss of property and poverty, as the generality of men and the lovers of wealth; nor, again, dreading disgrace and ignominy, like those who are lovers of power and honor, do they then abstain from them.”

”For it would not become them to do so, Socrates,” says Cebes.

72. ”It would not, by Jupiter!” he rejoined. ”Wherefore, Cebes, they who care at all for their soul, and do not spend their lives in the culture of their bodies, despising all these, proceed not in the same way with them, as being ignorant whither they are going, but, being convinced that they ought not to act contrary to philosophy, but in accordance with the freedom and purification she affords, they give themselves up to her direction, following her wherever she leads.”

”How, Socrates?”

”I will tell you,” he replied. ”The lovers of wisdom know that philosophy, receiving their soul plainly bound and glued to the body, and compelled to view things through this, as through a prison, and not directly by herself, and sunk in utter ignorance, and perceiving, too, the strength of the prison, that it arises from desire, so that he who is bound as much as possible a.s.sists in binding himself. 73. I say, then, the lovers of wisdom know that philosophy, receiving their soul in this state, gently exhorts it, and endeavors to free it, by showing that the view of things by means of the eyes is full of deception, as also is that through the ears and the other senses; persuading an abandonment of these so far as it is not absolutely necessary to use them, and advising the soul to be collected and concentrated within itself, and to believe nothing else than herself, with respect to what she herself understands of things that have a real subsistence; and to consider nothing true which she views through the medium of others, and which differ under different aspects;[32] for that a thing of this kind is sensible and visible, but that what she herself perceives is intelligible and invisible. The soul of the true philosopher, therefore, thinking that she ought not to oppose this deliverance, accordingly abstains as much as possible from pleasures and desires, griefs and fears, considering that when any one is exceedingly delighted or alarmed, grieved or influenced by desire, he does not merely suffer such evil from these things as one might suppose, such as either being sick or wasting his property through indulging his desires; but that which is the greatest evil, and the worst of all, this he suffers, and is not conscious of it.”

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