Phaedo | Page 5

prior to them, then prior also to the perceptions of
the senses which recall them, and therefore either given before birth or
at birth. But all men have not this knowledge, nor have any without a
process of reminiscence; which is a proof that it is not innate or given
at birth, unless indeed it was given and taken away at the same instant.
But if not given to men in birth, it must have been given before
birth--this is the only alternative which remains. And if we had ideas in
a former state, then our souls must have existed and must have had
intelligence in a former state. The pre-existence of the soul stands or
falls with the doctrine of ideas.
It is objected by Simmias and Cebes that these arguments only prove a
former and not a future existence. Socrates answers this objection by
recalling the previous argument, in which he had shown that the living
come from the dead. But the fear that the soul at departing may vanish
into air (especially if there is a wind blowing at the time) has not yet
been charmed away. He proceeds: When we fear that the soul will
vanish away, let us ask ourselves what is that which we suppose to be
liable to dissolution? Is it the simple or the compound, the unchanging
or the changing, the invisible idea or the visible object of sense?

Clearly the latter and not the former; and therefore not the soul, which
in her own pure thought is unchangeable, and only when using the
senses descends into the region of change. Again, the soul commands,
the body serves: in this respect too the soul is akin to the divine, and the
body to the mortal. And in every point of view the soul is the image of
divinity and immortality, and the body of the human and mortal. And
whereas the body is liable to speedy dissolution, the soul is almost if
not quite indissoluble. (Compare Tim.) Yet even the body may be
preserved for ages by the embalmer's art: how unlikely, then, that the
soul will perish and be dissipated into air while on her way to the good
and wise God! She has been gathered into herself, holding aloof from
the body, and practising death all her life long, and she is now finally
released from the errors and follies and passions of men, and for ever
dwells in the company of the gods.
But the soul which is polluted and engrossed by the corporeal, and has
no eye except that of the senses, and is weighed down by the bodily
appetites, cannot attain to this abstraction. In her fear of the world
below she lingers about the sepulchre, loath to leave the body which
she loved, a ghostly apparition, saturated with sense, and therefore
visible. At length entering into some animal of a nature congenial to
her former life of sensuality or violence, she takes the form of an ass, a
wolf or a kite. And of these earthly souls the happiest are those who
have practised virtue without philosophy; they are allowed to pass into
gentle and social natures, such as bees and ants. (Compare Republic,
Meno.) But only the philosopher who departs pure is permitted to enter
the company of the gods. (Compare Phaedrus.) This is the reason why
he abstains from fleshly lusts, and not because he fears loss or disgrace,
which is the motive of other men. He too has been a captive, and the
willing agent of his own captivity. But philosophy has spoken to him,
and he has heard her voice; she has gently entreated him, and brought
him out of the 'miry clay,' and purged away the mists of passion and the
illusions of sense which envelope him; his soul has escaped from the
influence of pleasures and pains, which are like nails fastening her to
the body. To that prison-house she will not return; and therefore she
abstains from bodily pleasures--not from a desire of having more or
greater ones, but because she knows that only when calm and free from
the dominion of the body can she behold the light of truth.

Simmias and Cebes remain in doubt; but they are unwilling to raise
objections at such a time. Socrates wonders at their reluctance. Let
them regard him rather as the swan, who, having sung the praises of
Apollo all his life long, sings at his death more lustily than ever.
Simmias acknowledges that there is cowardice in not probing truth to
the bottom. 'And if truth divine and inspired is not to be had, then let a
man take the best of human notions, and upon this frail bark let him sail
through life.' He proceeds to state his difficulty: It