From “Phædo.” Morley’s text

(SOCRATES, CEBES AND SIMMIAS.)

SOCRATES—“During the conjunction of body and soul, nature orders the one to obey and be a slave, and the other to command and hold the empire. Which of these two characters is most suitable to the Divine Being, and which to what is mortal? Are not you sensible that the divine is only capable of commanding and ruling, and that mortal is only worthy of obedience and slavery?”

  “Sure enough.”

  “Which of these two, then, agrees best with the soul?”

  “’Tis evident, Socrates, that our soul resembles what is divine, and our body what is mortal.”

  “You see, then, my dear Cebes, the necessary result of all is, that our soul bears a strict resemblance to what is divine, immortal, intellectual, simple, indissolvable; and is always the same, and always like, and that our body does perfectly resemble what is human, mortal, sensible, compounded, dissolvable, always changing, and never like itself. Can anything be alleged to destroy that consequence or to make out the contrary?”

  “No, surely, Socrates.”

  “Does not it, then, suit with the body to be quickly dissolved, and with the soul to be always indissolvable, or something very near it?”

  “That is a standing truth.”

  “Accordingly you see every day, when a man dies, his visible body, that continues exposed to our view, and which we call the corpse, that alone admits of dissolution, alteration, and dissipation; this, I say, does not immediately undergo any of these accidents, but continues a pretty while in its entire form, or in its flower, if I may so speak, especially in this season. Bodies embalmed after the manner of those in Egypt remain entire for an infinity of years, and even in those that corrupt there are always some parts, such as the bones, nerves, and the like, that continue in a manner immortal. Is not this true?”

  “Very true.”

  “Now as for the soul, which is an invisible being, that goes to a place like itself, marvelous, pure, and invisible, in the infernal world; and returns to a God full of goodness and wisdom, which I hope will be the fate of my soul in a minute, if it please God. Shall a soul of this nature, and created with all these advantages, be dissipated and annihilated, as soon as it parts from the body, as most men believe? No such thing, my dear Simmias, and my dear Cebes. I’ll tell you what will rather come to pass, and what we ought to believe steadily. If the soul retain its purity without any mixture of filth from the body, as having entertained no voluntary correspondence with it, but, on the contrary, having always avoided it, and recollected itself within itself in continual meditations; that is, in studying the true philosophy, and effectually learning to die,—for philosophy is a preparation to death: I say, if the soul departs in this condition, it repairs to a being like itself, a being that’s divine, immortal, and full of wisdom; in which it enjoys an inexpressible felicity, as being freed from its errors, its ignorance, its fears, its amours, that tyrannized over it, and all the other evils pertaining to human nature: and as ’tis said of those who have been initiated into holy mysteries, it truly passes a whole course of eternity with the gods? Ought not this to be the matter of our belief?”

  “Sure enough, Socrates.”

  “But if the soul depart full of uncleanness and impurity, as having been all along mingled with the body, always employed in its service, always possessed by the love of it, wheedled and charmed by its pleasures and lusts, insomuch that it is believed there was nothing real or true beyond what is corporeal, what may be seen, touched, drank, or eaten, or what is the object of carnal pleasures, that it hated, dreaded, and avoided what the eyes of the body could not descry, and all that is intelligible, and can only be enjoyed by philosophy. Do you think, I say that a soul in this condition can depart pure and simple from the body?”

  “No, surely, Socrates, that’s impossible.”

  “On the contrary, it departs stained with corporeal pollution, which was rendered natural to it by its continual commerce and too intimate union with the body, at a time when it was its constant companion, and was still employed in serving and gratifying it…. Were death the dissolution of the whole man, it would be a great advantage to the wicked after death to be rid at once of their body, their soul, and their vices. But forasmuch as the soul is immortal, the only way to avoid those evils and obtain salvation is to become good and wise: for it carries nothing along with it but its good or bad actions, and its virtues or vices, which are the cause of its eternal happiness or misery, commencing from the first minute of its arrival in the other world. And ’tis said that after the death of every individual person, the Demon or Genius, that was partner with it and conducted it during life, leads it to a certain place, where all the dead are obliged to appear, in order to be judged, and from thence are conducted by a guide to the world below. And after they have there received their good or bad deserts, and continued there their appointed time, another conductor brings them back to this life, after several revolutions of ages. Now this road is not a plain united road, else there would be no occasion for guides, and nobody would miss their way; but there are several by-ways and cross-ways, as I conjecture from the method of our sacrifices and religious ceremonies. So that a temperate, wise soul follows its guide, and is not ignorant of what happens to it; but the soul that’s nailed to its body, as I said just now, that is inflamed with the love of it, and has been long its slave, after much struggling and suffering in this visible world, is at last dragged along against its will by the Demon allotted for its guide. And when it arrives at that rendezvous of all souls, if it has been guilty of any impurity, or polluted with murder, or has committed any of those atrocious crimes that desperate and lost souls are commonly guilty of, the other souls abhor it, and avoid its company; it finds neither companion nor guide, but wanders in a fearful solitude and horrible desert, till after a certain time necessity drags it into the mansions it deserves; whereas the temperate and pure soul has the gods themselves for its guides and conductors, and goes to cohabit with them in the mansions of pleasure prepared for it.”