But why then, (says the
Objection)
do you refuse to believe -it?
Plato - 1701 - Works - a
luhe 8.
z6.
which wan- der'dNightandDayroundtheTembsandupontheMoun
tains. ,. He alledges they were corrupt and polluted Souls, which bore the Pollution they had contracted by Sin, in plun gingthemselvestoodeepinMatter. -'- , '
;. i \
out
? ? 12*
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
out any Reserve ; those (b) enter into the Bodies of AflesorsuchlikeCreatures. Do notyouthinkthis very probable >
Yes, sure, Socrates. ,
And those Souls which lov'd only Injustice, Ty ranny and Rapine, are employ'd to animate the Bodies of Wolves, Hawks and Faulcons. Where else should Souls of that stamp go ?
No where else,Socrates.
Thecaseofalltherestismuchthefame. They go to animate the Bodies of Beasts of different Spe cies, according as they resemble their first courses.
According to these Principles, it cannot be other
wise.
n,ePateof ThehappiestofalltheseMen, whose Soulsare thosewho ? nt t0 tjje moft agreeable Place, are those who
raVaJl' nave always made a profession of Popular and Civil jn. fibyHa- Vertues, which are call'dTemperance and Justice ^ tit,withoutto which they have brought themselves only by Ha-
If'Zfffi'bitandExercise,without any assistancefromPhilo- fbp " sophy and the Mind.
Howcantheybesohappythen?
'Tis probable, that after their death, their Souls arejoin'd to the Bodies of politick and meek Ani- . ' mals,suchasBees,Wasps,andAnts. ;orelsereturn tohuman Bodies, and become temperate and wise Men. But as forapproaching to the Nature of God, thatis not atallallow'd to those who did not
? . > . . - :? >
i _\* (l>)IntheLifeofTlato,we tooknoticeofthisOpinionof
Souls passing into other Bodies, whether of Men or Beasts; and endeavour'd to discover its Source ; I shall only add,that by Socrata'sway ofexpressinghimself, one would believethat this imaginary Transmigration of Souls was grounded, upon thoseimpureSpiritsthatenter'dintoMenandBeasts. We are not to doubt, but that in those Times of Obscurity, un
dertherealEmpireoftheDevil,therewereagreatmany People polTcss'd in that manner j and that was a sufficient GroundforformingtheIdeaoftheTransmigration'ofSouls, thatbeingmostapttofrighten'em. Theyfansiedthatthese impure Spirits took to themselves Bodies in the Sepulchers where they dwelt.
live
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 12. 3
live Philosophically, and whose Souls did not de partwithalltheirPurity. ThatgreatPrivilegeis reserv'dfortheLoversoftrueWisdom. And'tis upon the consideration ofthis,my dear Simmias andmy dearCebes,thatthetruePhi
losophersrenouncetheDesiresofthe ^finecharacteroftrue Body,andkeepthemselvesupfromits ? hM? $TMtTheyfiat
Lusts: They are notapprehensiveof
theruineoftheirFamiliesorOrPover- ty,astheVulgarare,andthosewho
TM Z D^/n^'Z
>>? >>>><<themsehesandall thingsbesides.
are wedded to their Riches : They fear
neither Ignominy nor Reproach , as those do who courtonlyDignitiesandHonours. Inaword,they renounce all things,and even themselves.
It would not be suitable for them to do other wise, replies Cebes.
No, sure, continues Socrates : In like manner ail
those who value their Souls, and do not live foiTj*y*sein-
theBody,departfromallsuchLusts,andfollowag? TM
different Course from those insensible Creatures that where they
donotknowwheretheygo. Theyarepersuadedgo.
that they ought nor to do any thing contrary to Phi
losophy, or harbour any thing that destroys its Pu- The, Turifi-
rifications, and retards their Liberty $ and according- vhUofotr). ly resign themselves to its Conduct, and follow it whithersoever itleads'em.
'Howdoyou lay,Socrates?
I'llexplainittoyou. The Philosophersfinding7l>efineof
their Soul tied and chain'd to the Body, and by that the Bond . .
"lea"s. obliS'd t0 emPl? y the Body in tbe Pursuit/^Ei ofObjects whichitcannot followalone^Jothatconsistsin it still stoats in an Abyss of Ignorance ; are very >>*own De fensible that the force of this Bond lies in its ow'n^":
D e s i r e s , i n s o m u c h t h a t t h e P r i s o n e r i t s e l f h e l p s t o / . _ ,. ? , ,? l o c k u p t h e C h a i n s : T h e y a r e s e n s i b l e t h a t P h i l o - >> ' t - * ? ? \
sophycomingtoseizeupontheSoulinthisCondi-? j(0IjuTi tion, gently instructs and comforts it, and endea- <<'#c/*v f*i vourstodisengageit,bygivingittoknow thattheJwTM " Eye of the Body isfull of Illusion and Deceit, asheadedby wellasallitsotherSenses,by advertisingitnottheBody.
? ? |<<4
Phedon : Or, J Dialogue
v
to use the Body further than Necessity requites $ and advising it to recollect and shut up it self within it self* to receive no Deposition but its
own, after ithasexamin'd within itselftheintrin-
theZdi/y
sense's,is f<<fje-
continue fully persuaded that whatever is tried by
all its other Senses, being different from the for- merdiscovery,iscertainlyfalse. Nowwhateveris
tried by the corporeal Senses, is visible and sensible. And what it views by itself without the ministry of the Body, is invisible and intelligible. So that the Soul of,a true Philosopher, being convinc'd that it
fck Nature of every thing, and stripp'd it of the
WlMtcrer
*! miw! bX'Covering that conceals itfromour Eyes$and to
^ *h shouldnotopposeitsownLiberty,disclaims,asfar claim*-all as is possible, the Pleasures, Lusts, Fears, and Sor-
tbe -pas sions r o w s o f t h e B o d y : F o r it k n o w s t h a t w h e n o n e h a s <ftheBody,enjoy'd many Pleasures, or given way to extream
'
j^ a andmojt
Grief or Timorousness, or given himself to his Der s i r e s -, h e n o t o n l y i s a f f l i c t e d b y t h e s e n s i b l e E v i l s known to all the World, such as the loss of Health orEstate,but isdoom'dtothelastandgreatestof Evils;an Evilthatissomuchthemoredangerous
andterrible,that itisnotobvioustoourSenses. What Evilisthat,Socrates?
Tis this ; that the Scul being forc'd to rejoyceor
be afflicted upon any occasion, is persuaded that . r J ' #>> . rj . ->
terribleas- what cauies its Pleasure or Grief, is a real and true fiuiionof thing,tho1atthelametimeitisnot:Andsuchis aSmigi- thenatureofallsensibleandvisibleThingsthatare
TMp? affi? caPablel0occasionJoyorGrief. oftheBody. That'scertain,Scerates.
Are not these Passions then the chief Instruments particularly that imprison and mew up the Soul within theBody ? .
How's that Socrates ?
E-vcryVaf- EveryPleasure,everymelancholyThought,being son has a arm'd with a strong and keen Nail, nails the Soul
fastens the t0 the Body with such force, that it becomes mate- Souitothe rialandcorporeal,andfansiestherearenorealand vodq. true Objects but such as the Body accounts sp.
". '? ? ? ? For
? ? of she Immortality of the Soul 115
For as it entertains the fame Opinions, and pursues the fame Pleasures with the Body, so it is oblig'd to the fame Actions and Habits : For which reason it cannot descend in Purity to the lower World, but is daub'd all over with the pollution of the Body itleft, and quickly reenters another Body, where ittakes Root as if. ithad been sown, and puts a Period to all Commerce with the Pure, Simple, and
Divine Essence.
That's very certain, Socrates.
These are the Motives that oblige the true Phi
losophers to m a k e it their business to acquire T e m perance and Fortitude, and not such Motives as theVulgarthinkof. Arenotyouofmy Opinion, Cebes ?
Yes, sure.
Alltrue Philosopherswill stillbe ofthat mind.
Their Soul will never entertain such>>a Thought, as
if Philosophy should disengage it, to the end that
when 'cisfreed, it should follow its Pleasures, and
giveway toitsFearsandSorrows;thatitshouldput
on its Chains again , and always warn: to begin
again, like Penelope's Web. On the contrary, it^ B>>jmefi
continues in a perfect tranquility and freedom from %{^^ttt Passion, and always follows Reason for its Guide, dJring hit'
without departing from its Measures ; it incessantly w'W<< life- contemplates what is true, divine, immutable, and time-
above Opinion, being nourifh'd by this pure Truth j it is convinc'd that it ought to follow the fame c o u r s e o f L i f e w h i l e i t i s u n i t e d t o t h e B o d y ? , a n d
hopes that after Death, being surrendef'd to that Immortal BeingasitsSource,'twillbefreedfrom alltheAfflictionsofthehumanNature. Aftersuch a Life, and upon such Principles, my dear Simmias and Cebes, what should the Soul be afraid of > Shall itfear,thatupon itsdeparturefrom theBody,the
Windswilldissipateit,andrunawaywithitjand / that annihilation will be its fate ?
Socrates, having thus spoke, he stop'd for a pret ty while,seeming to be altogether intent upon what he
? ? I%6 Phedon : Of, A Dialogue
hehadsaid. MostofuswereinthefameCondi tion j and Cebes and Simmias had a short Conference together. AtlastSocratesperceivingtheirConfe rence, ask'd 'em what they were speaking of^ do
Socrates you. think,fayshe,thatmy Argumentsarelame? desires'emjfo^ incieedthereisroomleftforagreatmany
tmons01"Do"bts and Objections,ifany willtakethePains thatbi), toretail'emout. _Ifyouarespeakingofanything Arguments else, I have nothing to say. But tho' you have
to'S/"'\e ionsirm'd.
noDoubts,pray donotstandtotellme freelyif ^Qn think QJ. -any hetter Demonstration, and make
me a Companion in your Enquiry, ifyou think I can assist you to compass your End.
I'lltellyou,faysSimmias,thenakedTruth. It isaprettywhilesince CebesandIthoughtofibme D o u b t s ? , a n d b e i n g d e s i r o u s t o h a v e ' e m r e s o l v ' d ,
pusli'dononeanothertopropose'emtoyou. But w e were both afraid to importune you, and propose disagreeable Questions in the unseasonable hour of
your presentMisfortune.
O! my dear Simmias, replies Socrates smiling'
certainlyI"should findgreatdifficultyinpersuading otherMenthatIfindnomisfortune inmypresent C i r c u m s t a n c e s -, s i n c e I c a n n o t g e t y o u t o b e l i e v e i t .
<<;? ,. ,. ,<<? >><. ? ? i You thinkthatupon thescoreofFore- Socratesisangrywith . . . jrv:? T 3a? i
hhFriends,firreckoning knowledgeandDiviningIam infinitely his present Condition an inferiour to the Swans. W h e n they unfortunate one. perceive approaching Death, they sing
fJerZltd^al TMrernerrilythanbefore,(a)because hereckon'dnoMisfortune oftheJoytheyhaveingoingtothe
inhisDeath,thanthisof Godtheyserve. ButMen^throughthe rallying>>fo>>thevulgar fear0fDeath, reproachthe Swans, in andTythagorean^eLgion. Iayingthat they lament their Death,
7i<<Fowl and tune their Grief in sorrowful Notes. They sinpmt o/forger co make this Reflection, that no Fowl sings
(a)As iftheirFowls wereadmittedto theMansionsof theBlessed. SocratesridiculesthatOpinion:Weshallsee afterwards, that they admitted Beasts to the Land of the Just; ofwhichtheyhadaveryconfus'dIdea. Butthat'stoano ther purpose.
when
? ? ofthe Immortality of the Saul. 127
when it is hungry, or cold, or fad ; nay, not the Nightingale, the Swallow, or the Lapwing, whose MusicktheyfayisatrueLamentation,and theef fectofGrief. Burafterall,theseFowlsdonotall singout of Grief; and far less theSwans, which by reason of their belonging to Apollo are Diviners,and sing more joyfully on the day of their death than before, as foreseeing the Good that awaits them in theotherWorld. Andasforme,IthinkIserve
Apollo as well as they, I a m consecrated to that Godaswellasthey,Ihavereceiv'dfromourcom mon Master the Art of Divining, as well as they, andIam aslittleconcern'dformakingmyExitas they are. So that you may freely propose what Doubts you please, and put Questions to me, as long as the eleven Magistrates suffer me to be here.
Yousaywell, Socrates^repliesSimmias;sinceit
is so, I'll propose m y Doubts first, and then Cebes
shall give in his. I agree with you, that it is im
possible, or at least very difficult, to k n o w the truth
inthisLife;andthatitisthepropertyofalazy
and a dull Head, not to weigh exactly what he
fays, or to supersede the Examination before he has
made all his Efforts, and be oblig'd to give over by unsurmountableDifficulties. Foroneoftwothings? fallh"r
mustbedone:We musteitherlearntheTruthfromH $ U ?
others,orfinditoutourselves. IfbothwaysMl/7,0>>idpick u s , a m i d s t a l l h u m a n e R e a s o n s , w e m u t t p i t c h u p - <>>><? t h e b e s t s
on the strongest and most forcible, and trust to that""^ *>>AE astoaShip,while wepassthroughthisstormy'ZdJhinm Sea,and endeavour to avoid its Tempests and/d/e,-? tUs Shelves5tillwe find out onemorefirmand sure,>wjiSea. such as (a) Promise or Revelation, upon which we
may
(a)ThisisaveryremarkablePassage. HerethePhiloso phers acknowledge that we should endeavour to make out theImmortalityoftheSoulbyourownReason;andthatas this Reason isvery weai and narrow, so it will always be aslaulted by Doubts and Uncertainty ; and that nothing but a Divine Promjse or Revelation can disperse the Clouds of
Ignorance
? ? I28 , Phedon : Or, A Via
7l>ePromisemay happily accomplish the Voyage of this Life striaib'"asina ^elthat^earsn0danger. Ifazttthere- fJirsIT f? renotbeasham'dtoputQuestionstoyou,now
Danger, thatyouallowme;andshallavoidtheReproachI might one day cast upon my self, of not having told you my Thoughts upon this occasion. When Isurveywhatyouspoketome andtoCebes,Imust
ownI donotthinkyourProofssufficient.
,Perhapsyouhaver. eason,my dearSimmias;but v wheredoestheitinsufficiencyappear>
Simmias'^ *nx^s'? >tnattne^ame thingsmightbe aliened firstobjetii-oftheHarmonyofaHarp. Foronemayreasona- <<>>j*Wt/;ebly fay that the Harmony of a Harp, well string'd
fatofiLr anc* w tun'd, ^ invisible, immaterial, excellent m m y o f t h e a n ^ d i v i n e ? , a n d t h a t t h e I n s t r u m e n t a n d i t s S t r i n g s
fame date are the Body, the compounded earthy and mortal A>>dsta>>d-Matter. AndiftheInstrumentwerecutinpieces,
'faBd' or *ts Strings broken, might not one with equal 3' reason affirm, that this Harmony remains after, the breaking of the Harp, and has no end ? For,, since
itisevident, thattheHarpremainsaftertheStrings are broken, or that the Strings, which are likewise mortal, continue after the Harp is broken or dis mounted ; it must needs be impossible, might one fay, that this immortal and divine Harmony should perish before that which is mortal and earthy ; nay, it is necessary that this Harmony should continue to be without the least damage, when the Body of theHarpanditsStringsaregonetonothing. For, without doubt Socrates, you are sensible that we holdtheSoultobesomethingthatresemblesa Har
mony;andthatasourBodyisaBeingcomposed
IgnoranceandInfidelity. NowtheChristianReligionisthe only thing that fnrniihes us, not only with Divine Promise* >>nd Revelations, but likewise with the accomplishment of 'em by the Renirrection of Christ, who became the first-fruits tfthemthat/left,1Cor. 1j. 10. Andthusaccordingtothe Philosophers themselves, the Church is the only Vessel that fearsnoDanger,inwhichwemayhappilyaccomplish"the Voyage of Shis Life,
Of
? ? bs the Immortality of the Soul. u p
"hotandcold,dryandrnoist*soourSoulisno-
ing else but the Harmony resulting from the just . oportionofthese mix'd Qualities. Now,ifourJ^ *r'e
>ulisonlyafortofHarmony*'tisevident,tbat^,^'* hen our Body is over-stretch'd or unbended by resulting iseales, or any other Disorder, of necessity our Soul from ^
ith all its Divinity must come to an end, as well*"? gfg"- . the otherHarmonieswhichconsistinSounds,or/^ oL'!
e theeffectofIustruments;and thattheRemainstitiu. ? every Body continue for a considerable time, till
ey be burnt or moulder'd away. This you fee, vrates, might be alledg'd in opposition to your rgumeBts, that ifthe Soul be only a mixture of e Qualities of our Body, it perishes first in what e call Death.
Then Socrateslook'duponusall,oneafterano- er, as he did often, and began to smile. Simmias eaks with reason, fays he, His Question is well it,and if any of you has a greater dexterity in an gering his Objections than I have, why do you >tdo it? For he seems thoroughly to understand >th m y Arguments and the Exceptions they are lia- e to. But before we answer him, 'tis proper to :ar what Cebes has to object, that white he speaks e may have time to think upon what we are to, y ? , a n d a f t e r w e h a v e h e a r d ' e m b o t h , t h a t w e m a y
eld if their Reasons are uniform and valid, and if herwise, may stand by our Principles to the out- ost. Tell us then, Cebes, what itis that hinders >utoagreewithwhat Ihavelaiddown. _,
I'll tellyou, fays Cebesh your Demonstration^J f ^ emstobelameandimperfect? ,itisfaulty upontho'lbeSoui efameHeadthatwe tooknoticeofbefore. That>>*o*<<<<<>>>? << e Soul has a Being before its entrance into the i^'>>sthaa
>dy, is admirably well saidh and, Ithink, suffici-ZhS'a. itlymade out; butIcanneverbepersuaded thatmmatefi-
haslikewiseanExistenceafterDeath. Atthew<</Bo rne time, I cannot subscribe to Simmias's Allega- *"> %' on, that the Soul is neither stronger nor moredu-^/,,-^, ;blethantheBody* fortome itappears tobein-1><<bemir-
t i finitely * * *?
? ? jjo
- Phedon: Or, A Dialogue
finitely more excellent.
But why then, (says the Objection) do you refuse to believe -it? Since you seewithyourEyes,thatwhena Man isdead,his weakestPartremainsstill;isitnottherefore abso lutely necessary that the more durable Part should last yet longer ? Pray, take notice if I answer this Objectionright. Fortoletyouintomymeaning,I mult use Resemblance or Comparison as well as
Simmias. . Your Allegation,tomy mind,isjustthe fame, as if upon the death of an old Taylor, one should say this Taylor isnot dead ; he has a Being still somewhere or other ; and for Proof of that, here'sthe Suit of Clothes he wore, which he made forhimself-,sothatheisstillinbeing. Ifanyone should not be convinces by this Proof, he would not failtoaskhim, whether theMan or the Clothes he wears is most durable ? To which of necessity
he must answer, that the Man is: And upon thi3 foot, your Philosopher would pretend to demon strate, that since the less durable possession of the Taylor is still in being, by a stronger Consequence hehimselfissotoo. Now,mydearSimmias^the P a r a l l e l i s n o t j u s t -, p r a y h e a r w h a t I h a v e t o a n swer to it.
5Tis evident at firstview, that the Objection isri diculous. FortheTaylor,havingus'dseveralSuits of Clothes, died after them, -and only before the lastSuit,whichhehadnottime towear$andtho' thisSuitfurviv'dtheMan,ifImay sospeak,yet we cannot say that the Man is weaker or less du rable than the Suit of Clothes. This Simile is nearenough,forastheMan istohisSuitofClothes, soistheSoultotheBody;andwhoeverappliesto theSoulandBodywhatissaidoftheManandhis SuitofClothes,willspeaktothepurpose. For he'll make the Soul more durable, and the Body a
weaker Being, and less capable to hold out for a long time. He'll add, that every Soul wears seve ralBodies,especiallyifitlivesseveralYears. For the Body wastes while the Man isyet alive, and
the
? ? ofthetmmmatity oftheSoul. 131
theSoulstillformstoitselfanewhabitofBody
out of the former that decays ; but when the lastJ*eW<<: comes todieithas thenitslastHabit on, anddiesa">mates*
beforeitsconsumption;andwhen theSoulis? ^"^_ dead,theBody quicklybetraystheweaknessofits^ Nature, since itcorruptsand mouldersaway very speedily. Sothatwecannotputsuchconfidencein
your Demonstration as to hold it for a standing Truth, that our Souls continues in being after Death. Forsupposing'tweregrantedthatourSoul has not only a Being antecedent to our Birth, but that,foranythingweknow,theSoulsofsomecon tinue in being after Death $ and that 'tis very pos sible they may return again to the World, and be born again, so to speak, several times, and die at last-, for the Strength and Advantage of the Soul beyond the Body consists in this, that itcan undergo several Births, and wear several Bodies one after ano ther, as a Man does Suits ofClothes : Supposing, I fay, that all this were granted, still it cannot be deniedbutthatinallthose repeatedBirthsitdecays and wastes,andatlastcomestoanendinoneof
theDeaths. However,'tisimpossibleforanyMan to discern in which of the Deaths 'tis totally funk :
Since Things stand thus, whoever does not fear
D e a t h , m u s t b e s e n f l e l s ? , u n l e s s h e c a n d e m o n s t r a t e r i m f e w i n ,
that the Soul is altogether Immortal and Incorrupti- iMtheSoul ble. For otherwise every dying Man must of tiers''"">? ?
cessitybe afraidforhisSoul, forfearlestthe Body -^'fST it is a quitting be its last Body, and lest it perish u;o>>. without any hopes of return.
Having heard 'em propose these Objections we Phedonr<<- were very much troubled, as we afterwards told^" th* sem? ,thatat atimewhenwe werejustconvinc'dJjj^J?
by Socrates's Arguments, they should come to amuse drefts him-
us with their Objections, and throw us into a fit of/ty" << ? - Unbelief and Jealousie, not only of all that had been checr4t^'
said to us by Socrates, but likewise of what he might say for the futurej for w e would always be apt to Believe that fither we' were hot proper Judges of
I i i the'
? ? ip
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
the Points in debate, or else that his Propositions were in themselves incredible.
Ecbec. Indeed Pbedon, Ican easilypardon your troubleuponthataccount. ForImy self,whileI heard you relate the Matter, was a saying to m y
self,whatshallwe believehereafter,sinceSocrates's Arguments, which seem'd so valid and convincing, are become doubtful and uncertain > In effect, that ObjectionofSimmias\ that theSoulisonlyaHar
mony, moves me wonderfully, and always did so. Itawakesinme thememoryofmybeingformerly
of the fame Opinion. So that my belief is un- hing'd? ,andIwant new Proofstoconvinceme that
theSouldoesnotdiewiththeBody. Wherefore,
prithe tell me Pbedon, in the Name ofGod, how
Socrates came off; whether he seem'd to be asmuch
n e t t l e d a s y o u -, o r , i f h e m a i n t a i n s h i s O p i n i o n w i t h h i s w o n t e d T e m p e r ? , a n d i n f i n e , w h e t h e r h i s
Demonstration gave you full satisfaction, orseem'd chargeable with Imperfections. Pray tell me the whole Story , without omitting the minutest Cir cumstance.
Phed. I protest to you, Ecbecrates, I admii'd So cratesallmy life-time,anduponthisoccasionad- mir'dhimmorethanever. . ThatsuchaMan ashe
had his Answers in a readiness, is no great surprisal;
butmy greatestadmirationwas tofeeinthefirst Socrates'* place with what Calmness, Patience and good Hu
Temper,
mour he receiv'd the Objections of these Young
Sweetness'stersjand thenhow dexterouslyheperceiv'dthe and Tati-
. Impression they had made upon us, and cur'd us ffutes. ofthefame. HerallieduslikeMenputroflight after a Defeat, and inlpir'd us with a fresh Ardor
to turn our Heads and renew the Charge. Ecbec. Howwasthat>
Phed. Iam abouttotellyou. AsIfateathis
Right-hand upon a little Stool lower than his, he drew his Hand over my Head, and taking hold of my Hair that hung down upon my Shoulders, as he was wont to do for his Diversion ; Pbedony fays
erncinDi
he
? ? osthe ImmortalityoftheSoul. 135
he, will not you cut this pretty Hair to morrow > Tis probableIshall,saidI. Ifyou takemy Ad vice, said he, you will not stay so long.
How do youmean? laidI. Bothyou 'Twasacustomamong
and I,continueshe,oughttocutour theGreekstocutofftheir
HairifourOpinionbesofardeadthat fwVfthe,defhof. thelr _ r. r ? r. friendsandthrowitinto
we cannotraiseitagain;wereIin,theTombs.
yourplaceanddefeated,Iwouldmake
aVow,(a)astheMen ofArgosdid,
nevertowearmyHairtillIconquers
I*fa ^ co- ? i^->>r theseArgumentsofSimmiasandCebes.
But, said I, Socrates you have forgot
the old Proverb, that Hercules himself isnotabletoengagetwo. Andwhy, Iolast0*&fihim"><<? >>?
fayshe,donotyoucallonmetoassist
youasyourlo/aswhile'tisyettime? AndaccordinglyIdocallonyou,said
I, not as Hercules did Iotas, but as lolas didHercules. Tisnomatterforthat,fayshe,'tis all one. Above all, let us be cautious to avoid one great Fault. What Fault, sard I > That, said b. e, of being Reason-haters ; for such
there are as well as Man-haters. The r? hate ^ T is,the
formeristhegreatestEvilintheWorld, *~* ? ? #'? ? and arises from the fame Source with #<<*<<.
the hatred of Man. For the latter
comes from one Man's plighting his m Manhatinggrows FaithforanotherMan,withoutanyPre- ) S s? *""*afin' cautionorEnquiry,whomhealways *mg'
took for a true-hearted, solid and trusty Man, but findshim at lasttobe afalse,faithlessCheat :And thus being cheated in several such Instances, by those whomhelook'duponashisbestFriends,andat last weary of being so often noos'd , he equally
{a) The Argiyes being routed by the Spartans, with w h o m they wag'd W a r for seising the City of Thyre3cnt their Hair, and swore solemnly never to suffer itto grow, till they hadre-takenthe Townthatbelong'dto'em;whichhap pensinthe57thOlympiad,whenCraefmwasbesieg'dat^r- dis, Htrodet. lib. u
-
.
Ii3 hates
The beliefoftheim-
TMon<<lity<<fthew,,i
{"Jr*Ff"&thatTM
oughttocutoffourHair whenitdies,
-<* Hercules called
5*frtheHjdra'
Le-mu ,_ afire.
? ? . j:j4 Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
hatesallMen, andisconvince! thereisnot onethat isnotWickedandPerfidious. Arenotyousensible, that this Man-hating is form'd at this rate by de grees > Yes, sure, said I. Is it not a great scandal
Bew1*> then,continuedhe,andasuperlativeCrimeto woM con- conversewith Men, without being acquainted with
wishMen3trieArt? ^tryingthemandknowing them? Forif
mghttobe one . were acquainted with this Arr, he would fee acquainted how Things stand,? and would find that the Good
vithtixartin& the wicked are very rare, but those in the tbeZ? m"S m^dle Region swarm ininfiniteNumbers. . -
How do you fay,Socrates?
The Ex- I fay, Pbedort, the Case of the good and bad is treamsofas. much thefamewith thatofverylargeorverylittle
Inclmmo" Men- ^o ^ot y? u ^ tnatthere's nothingmore andtixml-uncommon thana verybig oraverylittleMan ? d i u r n w r e - T h e C a s e is t h e f a m e w i t h r e f e r e n c e t o D o g s , H o r s e s , rycommon. amj a^ otj,er Things . anci mav likewise be apply'd
? ew Men
to swiftness and slowness, handsomnels and defor
mity, whiteness and blacknese. Are not you con-
vine'd^ that in all these Matters the two Extreams
are very uncommon, and the medium isvery com mon I . . -. :? '
I perceive it very plainly, Socrates.
jf a \iateh were propos'd for Wickedness, would
tZ'laft nottherebeveryfewthatcouldpretendtothe pitches firstRank> ? :. ''"'. ;- -V
wickedness. That's^very likely,Socrates. 'Tiscertainlyso,replieshe. Butuponthisscore,
the Case of Reason and Men is not exactly the V*protest&m& pn followyoustepbystep. Theonlyre-
fJinV"' fem? lanceofthetwoliesinthis,thatwhenaMan unskill'd in the Art of Examination, entertains a Heason as true, and afterwards finds it to be- false, whether it be so in it self or not ; and when the fame thing happens to him often, as indeed itdoes to those who amuse themselves in disputing with
the Sophisters that contradict every thing -, he at last believes himself to be extraordinary well skill'd, and fansies he's the only Man that has perceiv'd
that
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 13 j
that there's nothing true or certain ei therinThingsorReasons,butthat ThosewhosansethatSo- all is like Eurypus , in a continual "ateyw . J? r? ,ttUfft
flux and reflux, and that nothing cor* . ZklSdZry'Thing Z
tinues so much as one Minute in the fame state.
That isthepureTruth,Socrates, \
Is it not then a very deplorable mis-
fortune, my dear Pbedon, that while therearetrue,certain,andverycom- prehensible Reasons , there should be
M e n found, w h o after they have suffer'd
call 'em again in question upon hearing these fri
volousDisputes,where sometimesTruthandsome
times Fahhood comes uppermost ? ,and instead of charging themselves with these Doubts, or blaming TbeFate? f
theirwant ofArt,casttheblameatlastuponthe^f^o Reasons themselves ; and being of a sowre Tern- difiJe'witb
per, pass their life in hating and calumniating allcrosand Reason, and by that means rob themselves -both cont<-aduto- o f T r u t h a n d K n o w l e d g e . ', r > M e n -
That's certainly a most deplorable thing,siid"I?
W e ought to be very cautious, continues he, that thismisfortunebenotourlot;andthatwearenot ? prepossess'd by this Thought, that, there's nothing. '. solid or true in all Arguments whatsoever. W e
should rather be persuaded that 'tis our selves w h o
arewantinginSolidityandTruth;and useourut-forthebe- mostEffortsto recoverthatSolidityandjustnessofl>4? fthe Thought. ThisisaDutyincumbentuponyou,wholntTMnfl? 1 ? . ;? 'i1. 1 ? r- 1oftheSoul
. havetimeyettolive;and likewise uponme whoi,>>stfiu
am about todie:AndIam much afraid,thatuponbothsorii- thisoccasion Ihave been so far from acting they'nSaml
Part of a true Philosopher, that I have behav'd m y ^ / - ^
self like a Disputant overborn with Prejudice; as"""
all those lgnorants do, who in their Disputes do ri,echara-
not. mind the perception of-the Truth, but mean Ar o/. ,w onlytodraw theirHearersovertotheirOpinions. 'smrant
The only difference between them and me, is,that*"j^! ? '' convincing my Audience of the Truth ofwhat Ita>>t.
I i 4 advance
certain, may. undeceive themselves by reading this pw- ,
fe
cettZ\aU LyUpi- henfheseasons.
'em to pass,
? ? 136 Phedons Or, A Dialogue
advanceisnotmyonlyaim? ,Indeed,Ishallbein
finitely glad if that come to pals-, but m y chief scopeistopersuademy selfotthetruthofthese things;forIarguethus,my dearPkedon,andyou'll
Tinadvan-findthatthisway ofarguingishighlyuseful. If tapsre- ^ my Propositionsprovetrue,itiswelldone to
frlmthfbe-believethem;andifaftermy deaththeybefound luf of the false, I still reap that Advantage in this Life, that I immortalityhavebeenlessaffectedby theEvilswhichcommon- %mfa*L? ^ accomPany it- But I shall not remain long un-
tYbefaJfaderthisIgnorance. IfIwere,Ishouldreckonita great misfortune : But, by good luck, it will quick lybedispell'd. BeingfortifiedbytheseThoughts, mydearSimmiasandCebes,Imakeaccounttoan s w e r y o u r O b j e c t i o n s -, a n d i f y o u t a k e m y A d v i c e , you'll relie less upon the Authority of Socrates, than'thatoftheTruth. IfwhatIamaboutto a d v a n c e a p p e a r t r u e , e m b r a c e i t -y i f o t h e r w i s e , a t tack it with' all your force. Thus I shall neither deceive my self, nor impose upon you by the influ ence of 2eal and Goqd-will, or quit you like a Wasp that leaves its Sting in the Wound it has made.
jtshortk? - Tobeginthen,prayseeifIrememberrightwhat capitulationwasobjected. Simmias,asItakeit,rejectsourbe-
"obth*TM" *'e^> on'v because he fears our Souls, notwithstand- '. """' ing their being Divine and more Excellent , will
die before our Bodies, as being only a fort of Har mony. And Cebes, if I mistake not, granted that the Soul is more durable than the Body, but thinks it possible that the Soul, after having us'd several
(a) Ifthesearetrue, Iam agreatGainerwith littleTrou ble j if false, I lose nothing : O n the contrary, I have gain'd agreatdeal:ForbesidestheHopethatsupportedme through my Afflictions,Infirmitiesand Weaknesses, Ihavebeen faith ful, honest, humble , thankful, charitable, sincere and true,
and have only quitted false and contagious Pleasures in ex change for real. -nd solid ones. M. Tafcal in his\Art. 7. h^s enlarg'd upon this Truth, and back'd it wit! ) << Demonstra tionofinEr. it;force. ' \
Bodies*
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul t
i jj
Bodies,may dieatlastwhenitquitsthelastBody, ind that this death of the Soul is a true Death. Arenotthese the two PointsIam toexamine, my learSimmias and Cebes?
When they had all agteed that the Objections vere justly summ'd up ; he/ continued thus : D o rou absolutely rejectall that I have said, or do you icknowledgepartofittobetrue>They answer'd, Thattheydidnotrejectthewhole. Butwhat,says l e , i s y o u r O p i n i o n o f w h a t I t o l d y o u >? v i s . t h a t learning,isonlyRemembrance,andthatbyaneceC iry Consequence the Soul must have an Existence efbre itsconjunction with the Body.
As for me, replies Cebes, I perceiv'd the evidence fitatfirstview;and donotknow anyPrinciples f more certainty and-Truth. Iam of the fame 4ind, fays Simmias, and should think itvery strange :' e v e r I c h a n g ' d m y O p i n i o n .
.
But, my dear Tbeban, continuesSo- ? ates,youmustneedschangeit,if Somtesmakeso^ttie
onretainyourOpinionthatHarmony ggj %s ^
compounded, and that the Soul is Thoughts.
ilyafortofHarmony arisingfromthe leUnionoftheQualitiesoftheBo- ,^mmy cannotexist
r:For 'tispresum'dyouwouldnot g? * **--*** :lieveyourself,ifyousaidthatHar- * ?
ony has a Being before those Things of which it composU
Sure enough, repliesSimmias,Iwould notbelieve
7 self if I did.
D o not you see then, continues Socrates, that you
inotofapiecewithyourself,whenyousaythe
ulhadaBeingbeforeitcametoanimatetheBo-
,and at thefame time,thatitiscompounded ofForthere's
ings that had not then an Existence ? D o not you d'fi? rdin
nparetheSoultoaHarmony? Andisitnotevi-&J^'
it that the Harp, the Strings, 'and the very dis- 23s! Zd
dant Sounds exist before the Harmony, whichP>theyare
m Effectthatresultsfromallthese<<Things, and^-"^^ ishessooner thanthey? Does thislatterpartof"J, r"
irDiscoursesuitwiththefirst? * Not
? ? j38
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
Not atall,replies Simmias.
tains. ,. He alledges they were corrupt and polluted Souls, which bore the Pollution they had contracted by Sin, in plun gingthemselvestoodeepinMatter. -'- , '
;. i \
out
? ? 12*
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
out any Reserve ; those (b) enter into the Bodies of AflesorsuchlikeCreatures. Do notyouthinkthis very probable >
Yes, sure, Socrates. ,
And those Souls which lov'd only Injustice, Ty ranny and Rapine, are employ'd to animate the Bodies of Wolves, Hawks and Faulcons. Where else should Souls of that stamp go ?
No where else,Socrates.
Thecaseofalltherestismuchthefame. They go to animate the Bodies of Beasts of different Spe cies, according as they resemble their first courses.
According to these Principles, it cannot be other
wise.
n,ePateof ThehappiestofalltheseMen, whose Soulsare thosewho ? nt t0 tjje moft agreeable Place, are those who
raVaJl' nave always made a profession of Popular and Civil jn. fibyHa- Vertues, which are call'dTemperance and Justice ^ tit,withoutto which they have brought themselves only by Ha-
If'Zfffi'bitandExercise,without any assistancefromPhilo- fbp " sophy and the Mind.
Howcantheybesohappythen?
'Tis probable, that after their death, their Souls arejoin'd to the Bodies of politick and meek Ani- . ' mals,suchasBees,Wasps,andAnts. ;orelsereturn tohuman Bodies, and become temperate and wise Men. But as forapproaching to the Nature of God, thatis not atallallow'd to those who did not
? . > . . - :? >
i _\* (l>)IntheLifeofTlato,we tooknoticeofthisOpinionof
Souls passing into other Bodies, whether of Men or Beasts; and endeavour'd to discover its Source ; I shall only add,that by Socrata'sway ofexpressinghimself, one would believethat this imaginary Transmigration of Souls was grounded, upon thoseimpureSpiritsthatenter'dintoMenandBeasts. We are not to doubt, but that in those Times of Obscurity, un
dertherealEmpireoftheDevil,therewereagreatmany People polTcss'd in that manner j and that was a sufficient GroundforformingtheIdeaoftheTransmigration'ofSouls, thatbeingmostapttofrighten'em. Theyfansiedthatthese impure Spirits took to themselves Bodies in the Sepulchers where they dwelt.
live
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 12. 3
live Philosophically, and whose Souls did not de partwithalltheirPurity. ThatgreatPrivilegeis reserv'dfortheLoversoftrueWisdom. And'tis upon the consideration ofthis,my dear Simmias andmy dearCebes,thatthetruePhi
losophersrenouncetheDesiresofthe ^finecharacteroftrue Body,andkeepthemselvesupfromits ? hM? $TMtTheyfiat
Lusts: They are notapprehensiveof
theruineoftheirFamiliesorOrPover- ty,astheVulgarare,andthosewho
TM Z D^/n^'Z
>>? >>>><<themsehesandall thingsbesides.
are wedded to their Riches : They fear
neither Ignominy nor Reproach , as those do who courtonlyDignitiesandHonours. Inaword,they renounce all things,and even themselves.
It would not be suitable for them to do other wise, replies Cebes.
No, sure, continues Socrates : In like manner ail
those who value their Souls, and do not live foiTj*y*sein-
theBody,departfromallsuchLusts,andfollowag? TM
different Course from those insensible Creatures that where they
donotknowwheretheygo. Theyarepersuadedgo.
that they ought nor to do any thing contrary to Phi
losophy, or harbour any thing that destroys its Pu- The, Turifi-
rifications, and retards their Liberty $ and according- vhUofotr). ly resign themselves to its Conduct, and follow it whithersoever itleads'em.
'Howdoyou lay,Socrates?
I'llexplainittoyou. The Philosophersfinding7l>efineof
their Soul tied and chain'd to the Body, and by that the Bond . .
"lea"s. obliS'd t0 emPl? y the Body in tbe Pursuit/^Ei ofObjects whichitcannot followalone^Jothatconsistsin it still stoats in an Abyss of Ignorance ; are very >>*own De fensible that the force of this Bond lies in its ow'n^":
D e s i r e s , i n s o m u c h t h a t t h e P r i s o n e r i t s e l f h e l p s t o / . _ ,. ? , ,? l o c k u p t h e C h a i n s : T h e y a r e s e n s i b l e t h a t P h i l o - >> ' t - * ? ? \
sophycomingtoseizeupontheSoulinthisCondi-? j(0IjuTi tion, gently instructs and comforts it, and endea- <<'#c/*v f*i vourstodisengageit,bygivingittoknow thattheJwTM " Eye of the Body isfull of Illusion and Deceit, asheadedby wellasallitsotherSenses,by advertisingitnottheBody.
? ? |<<4
Phedon : Or, J Dialogue
v
to use the Body further than Necessity requites $ and advising it to recollect and shut up it self within it self* to receive no Deposition but its
own, after ithasexamin'd within itselftheintrin-
theZdi/y
sense's,is f<<fje-
continue fully persuaded that whatever is tried by
all its other Senses, being different from the for- merdiscovery,iscertainlyfalse. Nowwhateveris
tried by the corporeal Senses, is visible and sensible. And what it views by itself without the ministry of the Body, is invisible and intelligible. So that the Soul of,a true Philosopher, being convinc'd that it
fck Nature of every thing, and stripp'd it of the
WlMtcrer
*! miw! bX'Covering that conceals itfromour Eyes$and to
^ *h shouldnotopposeitsownLiberty,disclaims,asfar claim*-all as is possible, the Pleasures, Lusts, Fears, and Sor-
tbe -pas sions r o w s o f t h e B o d y : F o r it k n o w s t h a t w h e n o n e h a s <ftheBody,enjoy'd many Pleasures, or given way to extream
'
j^ a andmojt
Grief or Timorousness, or given himself to his Der s i r e s -, h e n o t o n l y i s a f f l i c t e d b y t h e s e n s i b l e E v i l s known to all the World, such as the loss of Health orEstate,but isdoom'dtothelastandgreatestof Evils;an Evilthatissomuchthemoredangerous
andterrible,that itisnotobvioustoourSenses. What Evilisthat,Socrates?
Tis this ; that the Scul being forc'd to rejoyceor
be afflicted upon any occasion, is persuaded that . r J ' #>> . rj . ->
terribleas- what cauies its Pleasure or Grief, is a real and true fiuiionof thing,tho1atthelametimeitisnot:Andsuchis aSmigi- thenatureofallsensibleandvisibleThingsthatare
TMp? affi? caPablel0occasionJoyorGrief. oftheBody. That'scertain,Scerates.
Are not these Passions then the chief Instruments particularly that imprison and mew up the Soul within theBody ? .
How's that Socrates ?
E-vcryVaf- EveryPleasure,everymelancholyThought,being son has a arm'd with a strong and keen Nail, nails the Soul
fastens the t0 the Body with such force, that it becomes mate- Souitothe rialandcorporeal,andfansiestherearenorealand vodq. true Objects but such as the Body accounts sp.
". '? ? ? ? For
? ? of she Immortality of the Soul 115
For as it entertains the fame Opinions, and pursues the fame Pleasures with the Body, so it is oblig'd to the fame Actions and Habits : For which reason it cannot descend in Purity to the lower World, but is daub'd all over with the pollution of the Body itleft, and quickly reenters another Body, where ittakes Root as if. ithad been sown, and puts a Period to all Commerce with the Pure, Simple, and
Divine Essence.
That's very certain, Socrates.
These are the Motives that oblige the true Phi
losophers to m a k e it their business to acquire T e m perance and Fortitude, and not such Motives as theVulgarthinkof. Arenotyouofmy Opinion, Cebes ?
Yes, sure.
Alltrue Philosopherswill stillbe ofthat mind.
Their Soul will never entertain such>>a Thought, as
if Philosophy should disengage it, to the end that
when 'cisfreed, it should follow its Pleasures, and
giveway toitsFearsandSorrows;thatitshouldput
on its Chains again , and always warn: to begin
again, like Penelope's Web. On the contrary, it^ B>>jmefi
continues in a perfect tranquility and freedom from %{^^ttt Passion, and always follows Reason for its Guide, dJring hit'
without departing from its Measures ; it incessantly w'W<< life- contemplates what is true, divine, immutable, and time-
above Opinion, being nourifh'd by this pure Truth j it is convinc'd that it ought to follow the fame c o u r s e o f L i f e w h i l e i t i s u n i t e d t o t h e B o d y ? , a n d
hopes that after Death, being surrendef'd to that Immortal BeingasitsSource,'twillbefreedfrom alltheAfflictionsofthehumanNature. Aftersuch a Life, and upon such Principles, my dear Simmias and Cebes, what should the Soul be afraid of > Shall itfear,thatupon itsdeparturefrom theBody,the
Windswilldissipateit,andrunawaywithitjand / that annihilation will be its fate ?
Socrates, having thus spoke, he stop'd for a pret ty while,seeming to be altogether intent upon what he
? ? I%6 Phedon : Of, A Dialogue
hehadsaid. MostofuswereinthefameCondi tion j and Cebes and Simmias had a short Conference together. AtlastSocratesperceivingtheirConfe rence, ask'd 'em what they were speaking of^ do
Socrates you. think,fayshe,thatmy Argumentsarelame? desires'emjfo^ incieedthereisroomleftforagreatmany
tmons01"Do"bts and Objections,ifany willtakethePains thatbi), toretail'emout. _Ifyouarespeakingofanything Arguments else, I have nothing to say. But tho' you have
to'S/"'\e ionsirm'd.
noDoubts,pray donotstandtotellme freelyif ^Qn think QJ. -any hetter Demonstration, and make
me a Companion in your Enquiry, ifyou think I can assist you to compass your End.
I'lltellyou,faysSimmias,thenakedTruth. It isaprettywhilesince CebesandIthoughtofibme D o u b t s ? , a n d b e i n g d e s i r o u s t o h a v e ' e m r e s o l v ' d ,
pusli'dononeanothertopropose'emtoyou. But w e were both afraid to importune you, and propose disagreeable Questions in the unseasonable hour of
your presentMisfortune.
O! my dear Simmias, replies Socrates smiling'
certainlyI"should findgreatdifficultyinpersuading otherMenthatIfindnomisfortune inmypresent C i r c u m s t a n c e s -, s i n c e I c a n n o t g e t y o u t o b e l i e v e i t .
<<;? ,. ,. ,<<? >><. ? ? i You thinkthatupon thescoreofFore- Socratesisangrywith . . . jrv:? T 3a? i
hhFriends,firreckoning knowledgeandDiviningIam infinitely his present Condition an inferiour to the Swans. W h e n they unfortunate one. perceive approaching Death, they sing
fJerZltd^al TMrernerrilythanbefore,(a)because hereckon'dnoMisfortune oftheJoytheyhaveingoingtothe
inhisDeath,thanthisof Godtheyserve. ButMen^throughthe rallying>>fo>>thevulgar fear0fDeath, reproachthe Swans, in andTythagorean^eLgion. Iayingthat they lament their Death,
7i<<Fowl and tune their Grief in sorrowful Notes. They sinpmt o/forger co make this Reflection, that no Fowl sings
(a)As iftheirFowls wereadmittedto theMansionsof theBlessed. SocratesridiculesthatOpinion:Weshallsee afterwards, that they admitted Beasts to the Land of the Just; ofwhichtheyhadaveryconfus'dIdea. Butthat'stoano ther purpose.
when
? ? ofthe Immortality of the Saul. 127
when it is hungry, or cold, or fad ; nay, not the Nightingale, the Swallow, or the Lapwing, whose MusicktheyfayisatrueLamentation,and theef fectofGrief. Burafterall,theseFowlsdonotall singout of Grief; and far less theSwans, which by reason of their belonging to Apollo are Diviners,and sing more joyfully on the day of their death than before, as foreseeing the Good that awaits them in theotherWorld. Andasforme,IthinkIserve
Apollo as well as they, I a m consecrated to that Godaswellasthey,Ihavereceiv'dfromourcom mon Master the Art of Divining, as well as they, andIam aslittleconcern'dformakingmyExitas they are. So that you may freely propose what Doubts you please, and put Questions to me, as long as the eleven Magistrates suffer me to be here.
Yousaywell, Socrates^repliesSimmias;sinceit
is so, I'll propose m y Doubts first, and then Cebes
shall give in his. I agree with you, that it is im
possible, or at least very difficult, to k n o w the truth
inthisLife;andthatitisthepropertyofalazy
and a dull Head, not to weigh exactly what he
fays, or to supersede the Examination before he has
made all his Efforts, and be oblig'd to give over by unsurmountableDifficulties. Foroneoftwothings? fallh"r
mustbedone:We musteitherlearntheTruthfromH $ U ?
others,orfinditoutourselves. IfbothwaysMl/7,0>>idpick u s , a m i d s t a l l h u m a n e R e a s o n s , w e m u t t p i t c h u p - <>>><? t h e b e s t s
on the strongest and most forcible, and trust to that""^ *>>AE astoaShip,while wepassthroughthisstormy'ZdJhinm Sea,and endeavour to avoid its Tempests and/d/e,-? tUs Shelves5tillwe find out onemorefirmand sure,>wjiSea. such as (a) Promise or Revelation, upon which we
may
(a)ThisisaveryremarkablePassage. HerethePhiloso phers acknowledge that we should endeavour to make out theImmortalityoftheSoulbyourownReason;andthatas this Reason isvery weai and narrow, so it will always be aslaulted by Doubts and Uncertainty ; and that nothing but a Divine Promjse or Revelation can disperse the Clouds of
Ignorance
? ? I28 , Phedon : Or, A Via
7l>ePromisemay happily accomplish the Voyage of this Life striaib'"asina ^elthat^earsn0danger. Ifazttthere- fJirsIT f? renotbeasham'dtoputQuestionstoyou,now
Danger, thatyouallowme;andshallavoidtheReproachI might one day cast upon my self, of not having told you my Thoughts upon this occasion. When Isurveywhatyouspoketome andtoCebes,Imust
ownI donotthinkyourProofssufficient.
,Perhapsyouhaver. eason,my dearSimmias;but v wheredoestheitinsufficiencyappear>
Simmias'^ *nx^s'? >tnattne^ame thingsmightbe aliened firstobjetii-oftheHarmonyofaHarp. Foronemayreasona- <<>>j*Wt/;ebly fay that the Harmony of a Harp, well string'd
fatofiLr anc* w tun'd, ^ invisible, immaterial, excellent m m y o f t h e a n ^ d i v i n e ? , a n d t h a t t h e I n s t r u m e n t a n d i t s S t r i n g s
fame date are the Body, the compounded earthy and mortal A>>dsta>>d-Matter. AndiftheInstrumentwerecutinpieces,
'faBd' or *ts Strings broken, might not one with equal 3' reason affirm, that this Harmony remains after, the breaking of the Harp, and has no end ? For,, since
itisevident, thattheHarpremainsaftertheStrings are broken, or that the Strings, which are likewise mortal, continue after the Harp is broken or dis mounted ; it must needs be impossible, might one fay, that this immortal and divine Harmony should perish before that which is mortal and earthy ; nay, it is necessary that this Harmony should continue to be without the least damage, when the Body of theHarpanditsStringsaregonetonothing. For, without doubt Socrates, you are sensible that we holdtheSoultobesomethingthatresemblesa Har
mony;andthatasourBodyisaBeingcomposed
IgnoranceandInfidelity. NowtheChristianReligionisthe only thing that fnrniihes us, not only with Divine Promise* >>nd Revelations, but likewise with the accomplishment of 'em by the Renirrection of Christ, who became the first-fruits tfthemthat/left,1Cor. 1j. 10. Andthusaccordingtothe Philosophers themselves, the Church is the only Vessel that fearsnoDanger,inwhichwemayhappilyaccomplish"the Voyage of Shis Life,
Of
? ? bs the Immortality of the Soul. u p
"hotandcold,dryandrnoist*soourSoulisno-
ing else but the Harmony resulting from the just . oportionofthese mix'd Qualities. Now,ifourJ^ *r'e
>ulisonlyafortofHarmony*'tisevident,tbat^,^'* hen our Body is over-stretch'd or unbended by resulting iseales, or any other Disorder, of necessity our Soul from ^
ith all its Divinity must come to an end, as well*"? gfg"- . the otherHarmonieswhichconsistinSounds,or/^ oL'!
e theeffectofIustruments;and thattheRemainstitiu. ? every Body continue for a considerable time, till
ey be burnt or moulder'd away. This you fee, vrates, might be alledg'd in opposition to your rgumeBts, that ifthe Soul be only a mixture of e Qualities of our Body, it perishes first in what e call Death.
Then Socrateslook'duponusall,oneafterano- er, as he did often, and began to smile. Simmias eaks with reason, fays he, His Question is well it,and if any of you has a greater dexterity in an gering his Objections than I have, why do you >tdo it? For he seems thoroughly to understand >th m y Arguments and the Exceptions they are lia- e to. But before we answer him, 'tis proper to :ar what Cebes has to object, that white he speaks e may have time to think upon what we are to, y ? , a n d a f t e r w e h a v e h e a r d ' e m b o t h , t h a t w e m a y
eld if their Reasons are uniform and valid, and if herwise, may stand by our Principles to the out- ost. Tell us then, Cebes, what itis that hinders >utoagreewithwhat Ihavelaiddown. _,
I'll tellyou, fays Cebesh your Demonstration^J f ^ emstobelameandimperfect? ,itisfaulty upontho'lbeSoui efameHeadthatwe tooknoticeofbefore. That>>*o*<<<<<>>>? << e Soul has a Being before its entrance into the i^'>>sthaa
>dy, is admirably well saidh and, Ithink, suffici-ZhS'a. itlymade out; butIcanneverbepersuaded thatmmatefi-
haslikewiseanExistenceafterDeath. Atthew<</Bo rne time, I cannot subscribe to Simmias's Allega- *"> %' on, that the Soul is neither stronger nor moredu-^/,,-^, ;blethantheBody* fortome itappears tobein-1><<bemir-
t i finitely * * *?
? ? jjo
- Phedon: Or, A Dialogue
finitely more excellent.
But why then, (says the Objection) do you refuse to believe -it? Since you seewithyourEyes,thatwhena Man isdead,his weakestPartremainsstill;isitnottherefore abso lutely necessary that the more durable Part should last yet longer ? Pray, take notice if I answer this Objectionright. Fortoletyouintomymeaning,I mult use Resemblance or Comparison as well as
Simmias. . Your Allegation,tomy mind,isjustthe fame, as if upon the death of an old Taylor, one should say this Taylor isnot dead ; he has a Being still somewhere or other ; and for Proof of that, here'sthe Suit of Clothes he wore, which he made forhimself-,sothatheisstillinbeing. Ifanyone should not be convinces by this Proof, he would not failtoaskhim, whether theMan or the Clothes he wears is most durable ? To which of necessity
he must answer, that the Man is: And upon thi3 foot, your Philosopher would pretend to demon strate, that since the less durable possession of the Taylor is still in being, by a stronger Consequence hehimselfissotoo. Now,mydearSimmias^the P a r a l l e l i s n o t j u s t -, p r a y h e a r w h a t I h a v e t o a n swer to it.
5Tis evident at firstview, that the Objection isri diculous. FortheTaylor,havingus'dseveralSuits of Clothes, died after them, -and only before the lastSuit,whichhehadnottime towear$andtho' thisSuitfurviv'dtheMan,ifImay sospeak,yet we cannot say that the Man is weaker or less du rable than the Suit of Clothes. This Simile is nearenough,forastheMan istohisSuitofClothes, soistheSoultotheBody;andwhoeverappliesto theSoulandBodywhatissaidoftheManandhis SuitofClothes,willspeaktothepurpose. For he'll make the Soul more durable, and the Body a
weaker Being, and less capable to hold out for a long time. He'll add, that every Soul wears seve ralBodies,especiallyifitlivesseveralYears. For the Body wastes while the Man isyet alive, and
the
? ? ofthetmmmatity oftheSoul. 131
theSoulstillformstoitselfanewhabitofBody
out of the former that decays ; but when the lastJ*eW<<: comes todieithas thenitslastHabit on, anddiesa">mates*
beforeitsconsumption;andwhen theSoulis? ^"^_ dead,theBody quicklybetraystheweaknessofits^ Nature, since itcorruptsand mouldersaway very speedily. Sothatwecannotputsuchconfidencein
your Demonstration as to hold it for a standing Truth, that our Souls continues in being after Death. Forsupposing'tweregrantedthatourSoul has not only a Being antecedent to our Birth, but that,foranythingweknow,theSoulsofsomecon tinue in being after Death $ and that 'tis very pos sible they may return again to the World, and be born again, so to speak, several times, and die at last-, for the Strength and Advantage of the Soul beyond the Body consists in this, that itcan undergo several Births, and wear several Bodies one after ano ther, as a Man does Suits ofClothes : Supposing, I fay, that all this were granted, still it cannot be deniedbutthatinallthose repeatedBirthsitdecays and wastes,andatlastcomestoanendinoneof
theDeaths. However,'tisimpossibleforanyMan to discern in which of the Deaths 'tis totally funk :
Since Things stand thus, whoever does not fear
D e a t h , m u s t b e s e n f l e l s ? , u n l e s s h e c a n d e m o n s t r a t e r i m f e w i n ,
that the Soul is altogether Immortal and Incorrupti- iMtheSoul ble. For otherwise every dying Man must of tiers''"">? ?
cessitybe afraidforhisSoul, forfearlestthe Body -^'fST it is a quitting be its last Body, and lest it perish u;o>>. without any hopes of return.
Having heard 'em propose these Objections we Phedonr<<- were very much troubled, as we afterwards told^" th* sem? ,thatat atimewhenwe werejustconvinc'dJjj^J?
by Socrates's Arguments, they should come to amuse drefts him-
us with their Objections, and throw us into a fit of/ty" << ? - Unbelief and Jealousie, not only of all that had been checr4t^'
said to us by Socrates, but likewise of what he might say for the futurej for w e would always be apt to Believe that fither we' were hot proper Judges of
I i i the'
? ? ip
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
the Points in debate, or else that his Propositions were in themselves incredible.
Ecbec. Indeed Pbedon, Ican easilypardon your troubleuponthataccount. ForImy self,whileI heard you relate the Matter, was a saying to m y
self,whatshallwe believehereafter,sinceSocrates's Arguments, which seem'd so valid and convincing, are become doubtful and uncertain > In effect, that ObjectionofSimmias\ that theSoulisonlyaHar
mony, moves me wonderfully, and always did so. Itawakesinme thememoryofmybeingformerly
of the fame Opinion. So that my belief is un- hing'd? ,andIwant new Proofstoconvinceme that
theSouldoesnotdiewiththeBody. Wherefore,
prithe tell me Pbedon, in the Name ofGod, how
Socrates came off; whether he seem'd to be asmuch
n e t t l e d a s y o u -, o r , i f h e m a i n t a i n s h i s O p i n i o n w i t h h i s w o n t e d T e m p e r ? , a n d i n f i n e , w h e t h e r h i s
Demonstration gave you full satisfaction, orseem'd chargeable with Imperfections. Pray tell me the whole Story , without omitting the minutest Cir cumstance.
Phed. I protest to you, Ecbecrates, I admii'd So cratesallmy life-time,anduponthisoccasionad- mir'dhimmorethanever. . ThatsuchaMan ashe
had his Answers in a readiness, is no great surprisal;
butmy greatestadmirationwas tofeeinthefirst Socrates'* place with what Calmness, Patience and good Hu
Temper,
mour he receiv'd the Objections of these Young
Sweetness'stersjand thenhow dexterouslyheperceiv'dthe and Tati-
. Impression they had made upon us, and cur'd us ffutes. ofthefame. HerallieduslikeMenputroflight after a Defeat, and inlpir'd us with a fresh Ardor
to turn our Heads and renew the Charge. Ecbec. Howwasthat>
Phed. Iam abouttotellyou. AsIfateathis
Right-hand upon a little Stool lower than his, he drew his Hand over my Head, and taking hold of my Hair that hung down upon my Shoulders, as he was wont to do for his Diversion ; Pbedony fays
erncinDi
he
? ? osthe ImmortalityoftheSoul. 135
he, will not you cut this pretty Hair to morrow > Tis probableIshall,saidI. Ifyou takemy Ad vice, said he, you will not stay so long.
How do youmean? laidI. Bothyou 'Twasacustomamong
and I,continueshe,oughttocutour theGreekstocutofftheir
HairifourOpinionbesofardeadthat fwVfthe,defhof. thelr _ r. r ? r. friendsandthrowitinto
we cannotraiseitagain;wereIin,theTombs.
yourplaceanddefeated,Iwouldmake
aVow,(a)astheMen ofArgosdid,
nevertowearmyHairtillIconquers
I*fa ^ co- ? i^->>r theseArgumentsofSimmiasandCebes.
But, said I, Socrates you have forgot
the old Proverb, that Hercules himself isnotabletoengagetwo. Andwhy, Iolast0*&fihim"><<? >>?
fayshe,donotyoucallonmetoassist
youasyourlo/aswhile'tisyettime? AndaccordinglyIdocallonyou,said
I, not as Hercules did Iotas, but as lolas didHercules. Tisnomatterforthat,fayshe,'tis all one. Above all, let us be cautious to avoid one great Fault. What Fault, sard I > That, said b. e, of being Reason-haters ; for such
there are as well as Man-haters. The r? hate ^ T is,the
formeristhegreatestEvilintheWorld, *~* ? ? #'? ? and arises from the fame Source with #<<*<<.
the hatred of Man. For the latter
comes from one Man's plighting his m Manhatinggrows FaithforanotherMan,withoutanyPre- ) S s? *""*afin' cautionorEnquiry,whomhealways *mg'
took for a true-hearted, solid and trusty Man, but findshim at lasttobe afalse,faithlessCheat :And thus being cheated in several such Instances, by those whomhelook'duponashisbestFriends,andat last weary of being so often noos'd , he equally
{a) The Argiyes being routed by the Spartans, with w h o m they wag'd W a r for seising the City of Thyre3cnt their Hair, and swore solemnly never to suffer itto grow, till they hadre-takenthe Townthatbelong'dto'em;whichhap pensinthe57thOlympiad,whenCraefmwasbesieg'dat^r- dis, Htrodet. lib. u
-
.
Ii3 hates
The beliefoftheim-
TMon<<lity<<fthew,,i
{"Jr*Ff"&thatTM
oughttocutoffourHair whenitdies,
-<* Hercules called
5*frtheHjdra'
Le-mu ,_ afire.
? ? . j:j4 Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
hatesallMen, andisconvince! thereisnot onethat isnotWickedandPerfidious. Arenotyousensible, that this Man-hating is form'd at this rate by de grees > Yes, sure, said I. Is it not a great scandal
Bew1*> then,continuedhe,andasuperlativeCrimeto woM con- conversewith Men, without being acquainted with
wishMen3trieArt? ^tryingthemandknowing them? Forif
mghttobe one . were acquainted with this Arr, he would fee acquainted how Things stand,? and would find that the Good
vithtixartin& the wicked are very rare, but those in the tbeZ? m"S m^dle Region swarm ininfiniteNumbers. . -
How do you fay,Socrates?
The Ex- I fay, Pbedort, the Case of the good and bad is treamsofas. much thefamewith thatofverylargeorverylittle
Inclmmo" Men- ^o ^ot y? u ^ tnatthere's nothingmore andtixml-uncommon thana verybig oraverylittleMan ? d i u r n w r e - T h e C a s e is t h e f a m e w i t h r e f e r e n c e t o D o g s , H o r s e s , rycommon. amj a^ otj,er Things . anci mav likewise be apply'd
? ew Men
to swiftness and slowness, handsomnels and defor
mity, whiteness and blacknese. Are not you con-
vine'd^ that in all these Matters the two Extreams
are very uncommon, and the medium isvery com mon I . . -. :? '
I perceive it very plainly, Socrates.
jf a \iateh were propos'd for Wickedness, would
tZ'laft nottherebeveryfewthatcouldpretendtothe pitches firstRank> ? :. ''"'. ;- -V
wickedness. That's^very likely,Socrates. 'Tiscertainlyso,replieshe. Butuponthisscore,
the Case of Reason and Men is not exactly the V*protest&m& pn followyoustepbystep. Theonlyre-
fJinV"' fem? lanceofthetwoliesinthis,thatwhenaMan unskill'd in the Art of Examination, entertains a Heason as true, and afterwards finds it to be- false, whether it be so in it self or not ; and when the fame thing happens to him often, as indeed itdoes to those who amuse themselves in disputing with
the Sophisters that contradict every thing -, he at last believes himself to be extraordinary well skill'd, and fansies he's the only Man that has perceiv'd
that
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 13 j
that there's nothing true or certain ei therinThingsorReasons,butthat ThosewhosansethatSo- all is like Eurypus , in a continual "ateyw . J? r? ,ttUfft
flux and reflux, and that nothing cor* . ZklSdZry'Thing Z
tinues so much as one Minute in the fame state.
That isthepureTruth,Socrates, \
Is it not then a very deplorable mis-
fortune, my dear Pbedon, that while therearetrue,certain,andverycom- prehensible Reasons , there should be
M e n found, w h o after they have suffer'd
call 'em again in question upon hearing these fri
volousDisputes,where sometimesTruthandsome
times Fahhood comes uppermost ? ,and instead of charging themselves with these Doubts, or blaming TbeFate? f
theirwant ofArt,casttheblameatlastuponthe^f^o Reasons themselves ; and being of a sowre Tern- difiJe'witb
per, pass their life in hating and calumniating allcrosand Reason, and by that means rob themselves -both cont<-aduto- o f T r u t h a n d K n o w l e d g e . ', r > M e n -
That's certainly a most deplorable thing,siid"I?
W e ought to be very cautious, continues he, that thismisfortunebenotourlot;andthatwearenot ? prepossess'd by this Thought, that, there's nothing. '. solid or true in all Arguments whatsoever. W e
should rather be persuaded that 'tis our selves w h o
arewantinginSolidityandTruth;and useourut-forthebe- mostEffortsto recoverthatSolidityandjustnessofl>4? fthe Thought. ThisisaDutyincumbentuponyou,wholntTMnfl? 1 ? . ;? 'i1. 1 ? r- 1oftheSoul
. havetimeyettolive;and likewise uponme whoi,>>stfiu
am about todie:AndIam much afraid,thatuponbothsorii- thisoccasion Ihave been so far from acting they'nSaml
Part of a true Philosopher, that I have behav'd m y ^ / - ^
self like a Disputant overborn with Prejudice; as"""
all those lgnorants do, who in their Disputes do ri,echara-
not. mind the perception of-the Truth, but mean Ar o/. ,w onlytodraw theirHearersovertotheirOpinions. 'smrant
The only difference between them and me, is,that*"j^! ? '' convincing my Audience of the Truth ofwhat Ita>>t.
I i 4 advance
certain, may. undeceive themselves by reading this pw- ,
fe
cettZ\aU LyUpi- henfheseasons.
'em to pass,
? ? 136 Phedons Or, A Dialogue
advanceisnotmyonlyaim? ,Indeed,Ishallbein
finitely glad if that come to pals-, but m y chief scopeistopersuademy selfotthetruthofthese things;forIarguethus,my dearPkedon,andyou'll
Tinadvan-findthatthisway ofarguingishighlyuseful. If tapsre- ^ my Propositionsprovetrue,itiswelldone to
frlmthfbe-believethem;andifaftermy deaththeybefound luf of the false, I still reap that Advantage in this Life, that I immortalityhavebeenlessaffectedby theEvilswhichcommon- %mfa*L? ^ accomPany it- But I shall not remain long un-
tYbefaJfaderthisIgnorance. IfIwere,Ishouldreckonita great misfortune : But, by good luck, it will quick lybedispell'd. BeingfortifiedbytheseThoughts, mydearSimmiasandCebes,Imakeaccounttoan s w e r y o u r O b j e c t i o n s -, a n d i f y o u t a k e m y A d v i c e , you'll relie less upon the Authority of Socrates, than'thatoftheTruth. IfwhatIamaboutto a d v a n c e a p p e a r t r u e , e m b r a c e i t -y i f o t h e r w i s e , a t tack it with' all your force. Thus I shall neither deceive my self, nor impose upon you by the influ ence of 2eal and Goqd-will, or quit you like a Wasp that leaves its Sting in the Wound it has made.
jtshortk? - Tobeginthen,prayseeifIrememberrightwhat capitulationwasobjected. Simmias,asItakeit,rejectsourbe-
"obth*TM" *'e^> on'v because he fears our Souls, notwithstand- '. """' ing their being Divine and more Excellent , will
die before our Bodies, as being only a fort of Har mony. And Cebes, if I mistake not, granted that the Soul is more durable than the Body, but thinks it possible that the Soul, after having us'd several
(a) Ifthesearetrue, Iam agreatGainerwith littleTrou ble j if false, I lose nothing : O n the contrary, I have gain'd agreatdeal:ForbesidestheHopethatsupportedme through my Afflictions,Infirmitiesand Weaknesses, Ihavebeen faith ful, honest, humble , thankful, charitable, sincere and true,
and have only quitted false and contagious Pleasures in ex change for real. -nd solid ones. M. Tafcal in his\Art. 7. h^s enlarg'd upon this Truth, and back'd it wit! ) << Demonstra tionofinEr. it;force. ' \
Bodies*
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul t
i jj
Bodies,may dieatlastwhenitquitsthelastBody, ind that this death of the Soul is a true Death. Arenotthese the two PointsIam toexamine, my learSimmias and Cebes?
When they had all agteed that the Objections vere justly summ'd up ; he/ continued thus : D o rou absolutely rejectall that I have said, or do you icknowledgepartofittobetrue>They answer'd, Thattheydidnotrejectthewhole. Butwhat,says l e , i s y o u r O p i n i o n o f w h a t I t o l d y o u >? v i s . t h a t learning,isonlyRemembrance,andthatbyaneceC iry Consequence the Soul must have an Existence efbre itsconjunction with the Body.
As for me, replies Cebes, I perceiv'd the evidence fitatfirstview;and donotknow anyPrinciples f more certainty and-Truth. Iam of the fame 4ind, fays Simmias, and should think itvery strange :' e v e r I c h a n g ' d m y O p i n i o n .
.
But, my dear Tbeban, continuesSo- ? ates,youmustneedschangeit,if Somtesmakeso^ttie
onretainyourOpinionthatHarmony ggj %s ^
compounded, and that the Soul is Thoughts.
ilyafortofHarmony arisingfromthe leUnionoftheQualitiesoftheBo- ,^mmy cannotexist
r:For 'tispresum'dyouwouldnot g? * **--*** :lieveyourself,ifyousaidthatHar- * ?
ony has a Being before those Things of which it composU
Sure enough, repliesSimmias,Iwould notbelieve
7 self if I did.
D o not you see then, continues Socrates, that you
inotofapiecewithyourself,whenyousaythe
ulhadaBeingbeforeitcametoanimatetheBo-
,and at thefame time,thatitiscompounded ofForthere's
ings that had not then an Existence ? D o not you d'fi? rdin
nparetheSoultoaHarmony? Andisitnotevi-&J^'
it that the Harp, the Strings, 'and the very dis- 23s! Zd
dant Sounds exist before the Harmony, whichP>theyare
m Effectthatresultsfromallthese<<Things, and^-"^^ ishessooner thanthey? Does thislatterpartof"J, r"
irDiscoursesuitwiththefirst? * Not
? ? j38
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
Not atall,replies Simmias.
