Butthosewho havedistinguifh'dthemselvesbya holy Life, are releas'd from these earthly Places, these
horrible
Prisons ?
Plato - 1701 - Works - a
1 ~ '11 ?
,:il;?
r,1.
.
beingpervadedthatthl stand'emsufficiently,you11willingly
moretheydwellupon'em, secondmy Thoughts, asmuch asispoi- themorethey'llbecon- g^leforaMantodo:andwhenyou yintdofthewtruth. aK once fully convinc>d9 you'll need
no other Proof.
That's well said, repliesCebes.
(a) There's one thing more, my TherewardingtheGood friends thatisaveryjustThought,
and punishing the Wicked . ^ jf tsie Soul js imm0Ital, It
co^rftitf standsinneedtocultivatingandim-
taiityoftheSmi,require provement,notonlyintheTime,that ourCareoftheSoulinthis w? Q^\tneTime ofLife? ,butforthe
Lif'-
Future, or what we call the Time of
Eternity :for ifyou think justly upon this Pointjou'U finditverydangerous to neglect the Soul. Were Death the Dissolution of the whole Man, it would be (b)agreatAdvantagetotheWickedafterDeath,
(a) 'Tis not enough that the Understanding be convinc'd of the Immortality of the Soul : T h e Affections must likewise be mov'd. TowhichendherepresentstheConsequencesotthat importantTruth, andallthatitrequires.
(b) The Wicked would be happv, if the Soul were mor tal. This Principle has a considerable Proof of the Immortali ty of the Soul couch'd in it; for, if the Soul were mortal,
Vertue would be pernicious to theGood, and Vice would be serviceabletotheWicked,whichisunworthyotGod. And by consequence there must be anotherLife, forrewarding the
Good, and punishing the Bad.
? ? of the Immortality ofthe Soul. \63
toberidatonceoftheirBody, theirSoul, andtheir"fl*s0>>l
Vices. ButforasmuchastheSoulisimmortal,the"TM*. "0"
onlyWay toavoidthoseEvilsandobtainSalvation,[i^tthl"
istobecomeGood andWife:foritcarriesnothingWorldsbut alongwithit,butitsgoodorbadActions,andits>>"W <<?
Vertues or Vices, which are the cause of itseternal***-*#<<>>>>* H a p p i n e s s o r M i s e r y , c o m m e n c i n g f r o m t h e first M i nuteofitsarrivalintheotherWorld. AndVissaid,
that after the Death of every individual Person, the
Demon or Genius, that was Partner with it and con ducted it during Life, leads it to a certain Place, where all the Dead are oblig'd to appear in order to be judg'd, and from thence are conducted by a Guide totheWorldbelow. And,aftertheyhavethere
received, their good or bad Deserts, and continued
there their appointed Time, another Conductor brings
'em back to this Life , after several Revolutions of
Ages. NowthisRoadisnotaplainunitedRoad,
else there would be no occasion for Guides, and no
BodywouldmisstheirWay:Butthereareseveral
By-ways and Cross-ways^ asIconjecturefromthe
Method of our Sacrifices and religious Ceremonies.
So that a temperate wife Soul follows its Guide, thi Sacrifi- andisnotignorantofwhathappens toit:butthe"*"**Ce-
Soul,that'snail'dtoitsBody,asIsaidjustnowj;~;? that is inflam'd with the love of it, and has;been Were only
long its Slave, after much strugling and suffering in Figmi. thisvisibleWorld, 4satlastdragg'dalongagainltitsTl"Lie. d! d
Will by the Demon allotted for itsGuide: and when ^^thT'' it arrives at that fatal Rendezvous of all Souls, ifIt Truth. has been guilty of any Impurity , or polluted with Murder, or has committed any of those atrocious Crimes, that desperate and lostSouls 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 De- fart; till after a certain time Necessity drags it into the Mansions it deserves ; whereas the temperate and pure Soul, has theGods themselves for itsGuides and Conductors, and. goes to cohabit with them in
LI 2 the
? ? 164
Phedon: Or, A Dialogue
theMansionsofPleasureprepar'dforit; For,my Friends, there are several marvellous Places in the Earth ; and 'tis not at all such as the Defcribers of it arewonttomakeit,(a)asIwastaughtbyonewho k n e w It very well.
H o w do you sayj, Socrates, says Simmias, interrup
ting him? I have likewise heard several things of
theEarth,butnotwhatyouhaveheard. Where
fore I wish you would be pleas'd to tell us what you
know. Torecountthattoyou,mydearSimmias,Ido
not believe we have any occasion for (b) Glaucm's Art. ButtomakeouttheTruthofit,isamore difficult Matter, and I question if all G/aucus's Art can reach it. Such an Attempt is not only above m y R e a c h ? , b u t s u p p o s i n g i t w e r e n o t , t h e s h o r t TimeIhaveleftmewillnotsuffermetoimbarque
insolongaDiscourse. AHthatleando,is,togive give you a general Idea of this Earth and the Places it contains.
That will be enough, fays Simmias.
, In the first place, continues Socrates, Iam per
suaded, that if the Earth is plac'd in the middle of Heaven, (the Air) as they fay it is, it stands in no
(a) Socratesdoesnotmentionwho taughthimthisDoctrine of the pure Earth : But it is no hard matter to find out the Author. Vrocltuhimselfacknowledges,thatSocratesandVia* o w ' d t h i s i d e a t o t h e S a c r e d T r a d i t i o r t o f t h e E g y p t i a n s , t h a t is totheHebrews,ax)Himvcuyv7r\iovhg? pi)&M7ttt? c/dijhx>>. In Tim. lib. i.
(b) When they mean'd to imply the difficulty of a thing, they were wont to fay, by way or Proverb, That they flood in need cf G/aucus's Art, who, from a Man, became a Sea- Gcd. ButthosewhocommentuponthisProverb,alledgeit was made uponanotherGIancus,who inventedtheForgingof Iron. Brit1amindue'dtobelievethecontrary,bytins,that the Fable of Glaucm, the Sea-God, was founded upon his be
ing an excellent Diver ; to which it is probable Socrates- allu ded:Inearnest,ifonewould visittheEarth hespeaksof,of which ours is'only a Sediment, he mull be a better Diver than G/aucus, in order ro pass the Currents and Seas that divide 'em. He must raise his Thoughts above all Earth or materiel Things,
need
? ? ofthe ImmortalityoftheSoul. i6j
need either of Air or any other Support to prevent its fall: for Heaven it self is wrapp'd equal ly about it, and its own equilibrium issufficient to keep it up : for whatever is equally pois'd in the middle of a thing, that presses equally upon it, can not incline to either fide, and consequently stands firm andunmovable. ThisIamconvinc'dof.
You have reason so to be, replies Simmias.
Iam furtherpersuaded,thattheEarthisvery largeandspacious,andthatwe onlyinhabitthat part of it whith reaches from the River Pha/is to the Straits of Gibraltar, upon which we are seatter'd like so many Ants dwelling in Holes, or like Frogs thatresideinsomeMarshneartheSea. Thereare
several other Nations that inhabit its other Parts thatare unknown to us: for all over the Earth there are Holes jof all Sizes and Figures, always fjll'd with gross Air, and cover'd with thick Clouds, and over flown by the Waters that rush in on all sides.
"There isanother pure Earth above the pure Hea- Theideaof ven where theStarsare, which iscommonly call'dth>>sure
AEther. TheEarthweinhabitisproperlynothingf**! ^] else but the Sediment of the other, and its grosser\^i{^/ef partwhichflowscontinuallyintothoseHoles. WetheVmphets,
are immur'd in those Cells, tho3 we are not sensiblefromwhence of it, and fancy we inhabit the upper part of the 'kEgypti- pure Earth ; much after the fame rate, as if one li-;"s
ving in the Deeps of the Sea should fancy his Ha bitation to be above the Waters ; and, when he sees the Sun and other Stars through the Waters, should fancytheSeatobetheHeavens-,and,byreasonof , his Heaviness and Weakness, having never put forth
his Head orrais'dhimselfabovetheWaters, should never know that the Place we inhabit is purer and neater than his, and should never meet with any Persontoinformhim. ThisisjustourCondition: we aremew'dupwithinsomeHoleoftheEarth, and fancy we live at the top of all; we take the
Air for the true HeavenSj in which the Stars run
LI 3 their j
? ? 166
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
theirrounds. AndthecauseofourMistakeisour Heaviness and Weakness that keep us from sur
mounting this thick and muddy Air. Ifany could mount up with Wings to the upper Surface, he would no sooner put his Head out of this gross Air, hut he would behold what's transacted in those blef fed Mansions ; just as the Fishes, skipping above the
1 SurfaceoftheWaters,leewhat'sdoneintheAirin whichwebreath. Andifhewerea For thetrue Heayens Man fit for long Contemplation, he andtrueLightcannotbe won\c\find\tt0bethetrueHeavenand f m S > 3 . W thetrueLight,inaword tobethetrue
Earth. Forthisharmthatweinhabit, these Stones and all these Places are entirelycor rupted and gnaw'd, just as whatever is in the Sea is corrodedbythesharpnessoftheSalts. AndtheSea producesnothingthat'sperfectorvaluable. Itcon
tainsnothingbutCavesandMud ;and Socrates undervalued wnerever any Ground isfound, there's
alltheTrodwUionsofthe ,. , \ c, . ,: sea,whichwenowesteem nothingbutdeepSloughs, nothingcpm-
jbmuch.
parabletowhatwehavehere. Now
the Things in the other Mansions are more above what we have here, than what we have hereisabovewhatwemeetwithintheSea. And, in order to make you conceive the Beauty of this
Hire Earth situated in the Heayens, if you please, s i' 1 1 t e l l y o u a p r e t t y S t o r y t h a t ' s w o r t h y o u r h e a r ing.
We shallhearit,saysSimmias, withagreatdeal of Pleasure.
(a) Firstofall,my dearSimmiaf,continuesSocra tes, ifone looks upon thisEarth from a high Place, they fay, it looks like one of our Packs cover'd with twelveWeltsofdifferentColours. Foritisvary'd withagreaternumberofdifferentColours, ofwhich those made use of by our Painters are but sorry Pat-
(a) This Description of the Beauty of this pure Earth, the Mansion of the Blessed, is grounded on the J4th Chapter of JJaial}} and the 18th of f. zechiel,
terns.
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. i$j
terns. FortheColoursofthisEarthareinfinitely morecleanandlively. OneisanadmirablePurple5 anothjp Colour of Gold, more sparkling than Gold it self^a third a White more lively than the Snow, and so on of all the rest, the Beauty whereof leaves allourColoursherefarbehindit. TheChinksof thisEartharefill'dwithWaterandAir, whichmake
up an infinity of admirable Shallows, so wonder fullydiversifiedbythatinfinitevarietyof Colours.
In this so perfect an Earth, every thing has a Per fectionanswerabletoitsQualities. TheTrees,Flow ers, Fruits, and Mountains are charmingly beautiful} they produce all forts of precious Stones, of an in
comparable Perfection, Cleannels and Splendour; those we esteem so much here, such as Emeralds, Jasper and Saphir, are but small parcels of them. There isnotoneinthatblessedEarththatisnotin finitelymoreprettythananyofours. TheCauseof all which is, that all these precious Stones are pure, neither gnaw'd nor spoil'd by the sharpneis of the Salts, or the corruption of the Sediment or Dregs that fall from thence into our lower Earth, where
they assemble, and infect not only the Stones and the Earth, butthePlantsandAnimals, withallfortsof Pollution and Diseases.
Besides all these Beauties now mention'd ; this blessedEarthisenrich'dwithGoldandSilver,which - being scatter'd all over in great abundance, casts
forth a charming Splendor on all sides:sothata fightofthisEarth,isaviewoftheBlessed. Itis inhabited by all forts of Animals, and by Men, some H*v{*i*>> of w h o m are cast into the centre of the Earth, and ? f*fefe-/tni'
othersarescatter'dabouttheAir,-aswe areabout^? S>> theSea. TherearesomealsothatinhabittheIfles,/TM>>thevi- form'dbytheAirneartheContinent. Forthere(a)fi? >"? fE-
(a) InthisDescriptionwe mayperceivemostoftheStrokeszechie1-
of that given by Mosesof the terrestrial Paradise, which was a TypeofthisLandoftheJust,thetrueParadise. And,whatI taketobeveryremarkable, wemayplainlyseethatthese Philosophers held this pure Earth to be actually in being at the fame time with this our impure and grosser Earth.
L14 the
? ? %S%
Phedon: Or,"i Dialogue
theAiristhefamething,thatWater and the Sea are here : and the AEther does them the fame Ser vicethattheAirdoestous. TheirSeasonsj^reIb admirablywelltemper'd,thattheirLifeW much
longer than ours, and always freefrom Distempers :
And as for their Sight, Hearing, and all their" other S e n s e s ? , a n d e v e r u t h e i r I n t e l l e c t i t s e l f } t h e y s u r p a s s
us as far as the AEther they breath in exceeds our grossAirforSimplicityandPurity. They havesa cred Groves, and Temples actually inhabited by the Gods, who give evidence of their presence by Ora cles, Divinations, Inspirations, and all other sensible Signs;andwhoconversewith'em. Theyseethe Sun and Moon, without an intervening Medium, andviewtheStarsastheyareinthemselves. And all the other Branches of their Felicity are propor tional to these.
This is the Situation of that Earth, and this is theMatterofallthatsurroundsit. AU-aboutit, there are several Abysses in itsCavities, some of which are deeper and more open than the Country we inhabit; others are deeper, but not so open ; and some again have a more extensive Breadth but
alesserDepth. AlltheseAbyssesarebor'dthrough in several Parts, and have Pipes communicating one with another, thro' which there runs, just as in the Caves of Mount AEtna, a vast quantity of Water, very large and'deep Rivers, Springs of cold and hot Waters, Fountains and (a) Rivers of Fire, and other Rivers of Mud, some thinner and some thicker and 'more muddy, like those Torrents of Mud and of FirethatarecastoutfromMount AEtna.
These Abysses are fill'dWith these Waters in pro portiontotheirfallingputofoneintoanother. All theseSourcesmove both downwardsandupwards, like a Vessel hung above the Earth j which Vessel
(a) "Plato borrows from the Writings of the Prophets, those Rivers of Fire prepar'd forthe Punishment of the Wick-
fid aster their Judgment ; and particularly had read the eighth ChapterofPinks, Theodora, '* "? ? '"? " '. -'. .
? ? oftheImmortalityof$e Soul. i6g
is naturally one, and indeed the greatest of these Abysses : It goes across the whole Earth, and is? &>>thebe- open on two sides. Homer speaks of it, when he ? ''">>'>>? >>f fays (b\ I'll throw it into the obscure Tartarus, JjJfjE"
that's a greatway from hencejthe deepest Abyss/&. " under the Earth. Homer is not the only Author that call'd this Placeby the Name ofTartarus: MostoftheotherFoetsdid thefame.
All the Rivers rendezvous in this Abyss, and run out from thence again. Each of these Rivers is_ tinctur'd with the nature of the Earth through which itruns. Andthereasonoftheirnotstagnatingin theseAbyssesis this,thattheyfindnoGround,but roulandthrowtheirWatersupsidedown. TheAir and Wind that girds 'em about, does the fame, for itfollowsthem bothwhentheyrifeabovetheEarth,
andwhentheydescendtowardsus. Andjustasin the respiration of Animals there is an incessant in gress and egrels of Air, so the Air that's mingled with theWatersaccompaniesthemintheiringress and egress, and raises raging Winds.
W h e n these Waters fall into this lower Abyss, they
diffuse themselves into all the Channels of the S p r i n g s a n d R i v e r s , a n d f i l l t h e m u p ? , j u s t a s i f o n e
were drawing up Water with two Pails, one of which filsastheotherempties. FortheseWaters flowingfromthence,filup allourChannels5from whence diffusing themselves all about, they fil our Seas,Rivers,Lakes andFountains. Afterthatthey disappear, and diving into the Earth, some with a largecompass, and othersbylmallturnings, repair to Tartarus, where they enter by other Passages than those they came out by, and withal much lower. Some re-enter on the fame fide, and others on the
opposite fide to that of their egress j and some a-
(a) The ProphetEzeiielcallsthisTartarus~'Tlienether Tart oftheEarth. HespeaksoftheRiversandWatersinthePit, di<tjf. si, 14, 13. &32. 18. But long before Ezekiel, Homer3 had the fame |dea. 'sirom the Tradition of the Egyptians,
gain
? ? 170
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
<
gain enter on all sides, after they have made one or several turns round the Earth ; like Serpents fold ing their Bodies into several rows ; and having gain'd entrance, rife up to the middle of the Abyss, but cannot reach further, by reason that the other halfishigherthantheirlevel. Theyformseveral very great and large Currents ; but there are four (a) principalones,thegreatestofwhichistheouter mostofall,and iscall'dtheOcean.
Opposite to that is Acheron, which runs through the defart Places,and diving through the Earth, falls intotheMarsh, which fromitiscall'dtheAcberu-
JianLakes,whitherallSoulsrepairupon theirde parture from thisBody ; and having stay'd thereall the time appointed, some a shorter some a longer time, are sent back to this World to animate Beasts.
Between Acheron and the Ocean, there runs a third River, which retires again not far from its Source, and falls into a vast space full of Fire : There it forms a Lake greater than our Sea, in which the Water mix'd with Mud boils, and setting out from thence all black and muddy, runs along the Earth to the end of the Acherufian Lake without m i x i n g w i t h i t s W a t e r s ? , a n d a f t e r h a v i n g m a d e s e
veral turnings under the Earth, throws it self under neath Tartarus ; and this isthe flaming River call'd Fhlegeton, the Streams whereof are seen to fly up upon the Earth in several Places.
Opposite to this is the fourth River, which falls first into a horrible wild Place, of a bluish Colour, call'd by the name of Stygian, where it forms the
(a) These four Rivers which have their Course in the places appointed for the punishment of the Wicked, might have been imagin'd from the four Rivers of the Terrestrial "Pa radise. As the Apartmeut of the just was water'd by four Rivers, which enlarg'd its Delightfulness ; 'twas proper that theApartmentoftheWickedshouldlikewisebewater'dby four Rivers of a contrary nature, which might add to the Horror of that Place of Darkness and Sorrow.
for-
? ? of the Immqrtality of the Soul. 17j
formidable Lake of Styx, And after it has tin- ctufd itselfwithhorriblequalitiesfrom theWa ters of that Lake, dives into the Earth, where it makes several turns, and directing its Course over- against Pblegeton, at last meets it in the Lake of Acheron^where itdoesnotmingleitsWaterswith those of the other Rivers, but after it has run its round on the Earth, throws it self into the Tarta rusbyaPassageoppositetothatofPhlegeton. This
fourthRiveris'call'dbythePoetsCocytus. Nature
h a v i n g t h u s d i s p o s ' d o f a l l t h e s e T h i n g s -, w h e n t h e T h e ? d Dead arrive at the Place whither their Demon leads mmt "fg~ha
them, they are all tried and judged, both those thatG<w and. liv'd a holy and just Life, and those who wallow'd*'*^- in Injustice and Impiety.
Those who are found to have liv'd neither entire-n,ej>>ig.
ly a criminal nor absolutely an innocent Life, are >><<* >>f senttotheAcheron. TheretheyimbarkinBoats,t,mse>. "*>>
and are transported to the Acherufian Lake, where ZbsoiMeh
they 'dwell, and suffer Punishment proportionablecriminal t o t h e i r C r i m e s ? , t i l l a t l a s t b e i n g p u r g ' d a n d c l e a n - >> < " ? >> >> >> * ?
led from their Sins, and set at Liberty, they receive"*'*
the RecomDence of their good Actions. - ? Those whose Sins are uncurable, and have been ^J"ig~
g u i l t y o f S a c r i l e g e a n d M u r d e r , o r s u c h o t h e r C r i m e s , those w h o are by a just and fatal Destiny, thrown headlong are guilty into Tartarus, where they are kept Prisonersfor"/"""'^
ever. . >
But those who are found guilty of curable (Venial) Sins, tho very great ones,suchasofferingViolencetotheir FatherorMotherinaPassion,orkilling
a Man and repenting for it all their lifetime j must of necessity be likewise
cast into Tartarus : But after a Years abodethere,theTidethrowstheHo-
micides backLinto Cocytus, and the Par- ncidesintoPhkgeton,whichdrawsthem intothe Acherufian Lake*: There they
cry out bitterly,and invoque those ir; ,. /. . :;,'. . ,. . . . ? : . - ? ,-
Sms'
"&*Sentenceuponthoft j? "tJ%ti? bs? T tTMe\ cm 'y **"*"
, ',*? *"*&*h<TM*n*
S t A ' S ' K u? ga-Parentisanine^ miflibleSin.
whom
? ? lyz Phedon : Or, 4 Dialogue
whom theykill'doroffer'dViolenceto,toaidthem; and conjure them to forgive 'em, and to suffer 'em topasstheLake,andgivethemadmittance. If they're prevail'd with, they pass the Lake, and
Socrates are deliver'd from their Misery-, if not, they
TtilZaun arecastagain into Tartarus^ which throws them mLstfZ- backintothese Rivers? ,and thiscontinuestobere-
cedethe peated,tilltheyhavesatisfiedtheinjur'dPer- ? Pardonofsons. ForsuchistheSentencepronounc'dagainst
s""- them.
Butthosewho havedistinguifh'dthemselvesbya holy Life, are releas'd from these earthly Places, these horrible Prisons ? ,and are receiv'd above into
that pure Earth, where they dwell -,and those of 'em who are sufficiently purg'd by Philosophy, live for ever without their Body ; and are receiv'd into
yetmore admirable and deliciousMan- . sfoiMf a gre^Er- fions, which I cannot easily describe,
&TFJl? ? Z TMrher? do theTM? TM Limitsofmy the&d-ycouldhegiori- lmieallowmetolaunchintothatSub-
fied. " ject.
. //r. r ,. What I told you but now, is suffici-
tl^iSTsfS cient>>>7dwSimmias,toshewthat
fireui.
we ought to labour all our lifetime
to purchase Vertue and Wisdom, since we have so great a Hope, and so great a Reward propos'd to us.
N o M a n of Sense can pretend to assure you, that alltheseThings arejust asyou have heard. But allthinkingMen willbepositivethat
t^SrtT^ <hestatf<**? Soul,and& Placeof notpositTMoftheMan. 1? sabodeafterdeath,isabsolutelysuch tr. as I represent it to be, or at least very
near it, provided the Soul be Immor- Wlmtvanger morein- tai. And will certainly find it worth
^? KfsforZ'! ^ ? while. toruntheRisque:Forwhat Gain? Danger is more inviting? One must
needs be charm'd with that blessed Hope. AndforthisReasonIhavedilateda. fitde upon thisSubject.
Every
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 175
Every one that during his life-time renounc'd the
Pleasures of the Body, that look'd upon the Appur
tenances of the Body as foreign Ornaments, and
fiding with the contrary Party, pursued only the
Pleasures of truevKnowledge, and beautified hisrhtTied-
Soul, not with foreign Ornaments, but with Orna-/>><<*"strut ments, suitable toitsnature,suchasTemperance,KnwiedZe-
juliice, Fortitude, Liberty andTruth : Such a one, beingfirmly confident oftheHappinessofhisSoul,^ MtMt ought to wait peaceably for the Hour of his remo- oZament, val, as being always ready for the Voyage, wheno/"t/*W. ever his Fate calls him.
Asforyou,mydearSimmiasandCebes,andall youofthisCompany,youshallallfollowmewhen yoiHourcomes. Mineisnow,andasatragical I'cet would lay, the surly Pilot calls me abroad; wherefore'tistimeIshouldgototheBath:ForI think "tis better to drink the Poyson after I am wash'd,inordertosavetheWomenthetroubleof washing me afterI'm dead.
Socrates having thus spoke, Crito address'd him- ? selfto Socrates, thus: Alas then! inGod'sName beit:ButwhatOrdersdo yougiveme andtherest here present, with reference to your Children or your Affairs, that by putting them in execution, we may at least have the Comfort of obliging you ?
What I now recommend toyou,Crito, replies So
crates, is what I always recommended, viz. ToT? af""~
takeCareofyourselves. Youcannotdoyourselves^wfw a more considerable piece of Service, nor oblige m e * W they and my Family more, (a) than to promise me atf4*<<Care? /
themfelyts.
(a) There'sagreatdealofSenseinwhatSocratesheretells^\'ST
hisFriends:Hedesires'emonlytotakeCareofthemselves,? "r? because if they take Care of themselves, they'll prove good ~ t,at
Men;and,beingsuch,willdoallgoodOfficestohisFami- ra-fer'
ly,tho'theydidnotpromiseit:For goodMenarehonest, and take pleasure in doing Good, and love their Neighbour. Whereas if they neglect themselves,notwithstanding all their faitPromises,theywould notbecapabletodoanythingei therforhimorthemselves. Nonebutgood-MencandoSer vices. How greatisthisTruth!
this
? ? 174
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
thistimesotodo. Whereasifyouneglect:youi selves, and refuse to form your Lives according to the (b) Model I always proposed to you, and follow it as itwere by the footsteeps ; all your Protesta tions and offers of Service will be altogether useless
to me.
W e shall do our utmost. , Socrates, replies Crito, to
obeyyou. Buthowwillyoubeburied? Justasyou please,saysSocrates$ifyoucanbur catchme,andifIdonotgiveyoutheflip. Atthe fame time, looking upon us with a gentle smile, I
cannot,fayshe,compassmy EndinpersuadingCriti that this is Socrates who discourses with you and methodises all the Parts of his Discourse ; and /rill he fanfiesthat Socratesisthethingthat shallsee Death by and by. He confounds me with my Corps-, and in that view asks how 1 must be bu ried ? And all this long Discourse that I made to you but now, in order to make it out, that as soon as I shall have taken down the Poyson, I shall stay no longer with you, but shall part from hence and go to enjoy the Felicity of the Blessed -,in a word, all that I have said for your Consolation and mine, isto no purpose, but itisall lost, with reference to him. 1begofyouthat. youwouldbeBailforme toCrito,but after acontrary manner to thatin whichheoffer'dtoBailmetomyJudges$forhe engag'd that I would not be gone : Pray engage sot me, that I shall no sooner be dead, but 1 shall k gone, to the end that poor Crito may bear ray death more steddily , and when he sees m y Body burnt or interr'd, may not despair, as if I suffer'd great Misery $ and say at m y Funeral, that Socrata is laid out, Socrates iscarried out, Socrates is in terr'd. Foryoumustknow,mydearCrito,fayshe turning to him, that speaking amiss of Death is
Q>) This Model is God ;for he stilltold 'em that they should render themselves conformable to God, as m u c h as hu man Weakness would btar.
not
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 175
not only a Fault in the way of speaking, but like
wise wounds the Soul. You shou'd have more***D's-
Courage andHope, and saythatmy Body istobeJf^JjJJ- interr'd. Thatyoumayinterrasyoupleafe,andj*STr. inthe. manner that'smostconformabletoourLawstheSaid. and Customs. ,
Having spoke thus, he role and went into the next Room to bathe. Crito follow'd him, and he desiredweshouldattendhim. Accordinglyweall attended him, and entertain'd our selves one while with a Repetition and farther Examination of what hehadsaid,another whileinspeakingofthemise rableStatethatwas beforeus. Forwe all look'd
upon our selves as Persons depriv'd of our good Fa ther, that were about to pass the rest of our Life in an Orphan-state.
After he came out of the Bath, they brought his Children to him ? , for he had three, two little ones,
and one thatwas prettybig:And theWomen of hisFamilycameallintohim. Hespoketothem some time" in the presence of Crito, gave 'em their Orders, and order'd 'em to retire, carry his Chil dren along with 'em, and then came back to us, 'Twas then towards Sun setting, for he had been 9. lone while inthelittleRoom.
When he came in he sat down upon hisBed, without saying much : For much about the same time the Officerof the Eleven Magistrates came in, and drawing near to him, Socrates, lays he, I have no occasion to make the same Complaint of you, that 1 have every day of those in the same Condi tion : For as soon as I come to acquaint 'em, by Orders from the Eleven Magistrates, that they must drink the Poyson, they are incens'd against me and curseme:Butasforyou,eversinceyoucamein to this Place, I have found you to be the most eventemper'd,thecalmestandthebestMan thatever enter'dthisPrison;andIam confidentthatatpresent you are not angry with me -,doubtless you ar<< an gry with none but those who arc the cause ot
your -rr*.
? ? torn.
longer.
Whereupon Crito gave the Sign to the Slave that
waitedjustby. TheSlavewentout,andafterhe had spent some time in brewing the Poyson, re- turn'd accompanied by him that was to give it* and
(a) This affords us an admirable Prospect of the infinite differencebetweenSocratesandthosebrutishMen,who died without any other Sentiments of their Misery.
ij6
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
your misfortune. You know 'em without naming. On thisOccasion, Socrates,youknow what Icome to tell you -,farewell, endeavour to bear this Ne cessitywithaconstantMind. Haviigspokethus, he began to cry, and turning his Back upon us, re-
tir'd a little. Farewell my Friend, fays Socrates, looking upon him, 111 follow the Counsel thou gi- vest me. Mind, says he, what Honesty is in that Fellow:DuringmyImprisonmenthecameoftento lee me, and Hiscours'd with me : He's more worth than all the rest: How heartily he cries for me ! Let us obey him with a handsom meen, m y dear Crito-, if the Poyson be brew'd, let him bring it; if not, let him brew it himself.
But methinks Socrates, fays Crito, the Sun shines upontheMountains,andisnotyetset;and Iknow several in your Circumstances did not drink the Poysbn till a long time after the Order was given-, that they supp'd very well, (a) and enioy'd any thing they had a mind to : Wherefore I conjure you not to press so hard ; you hav8 yet time enough.
Those who do as you fay, Crito, fays Socrates, ke Judes kave t^ie" own Rea*? ns j tnev think it is just as toarer/emuchgaind:AndIhavelikewisemyReasonsfcr o / H c s i o d , n o t d o i n g s o -, f o r t h e o n l y A d v a n t a g e I c a n h a v e >>'*>ftp, by drinking itlater, isto make my self ridiculous l! ! csZ- t0my selt'inbeinSfofoolislllyfondofLife, asto rfarJhm pretend to husband it in the last Minute, when
one'scome there is no more tocome. Go then, my dear Cri- tothehot-f0^anddoasIbidyoudo,anddonotvexmeno
hrought
? ? of the Immortality of the Scul 177
broughtitalltogetherinaCup; Socratesfeeing him come in^ that'svery well, my Friend, layhej but what must I do ? For you know best, and 'tis yourbusinessto directme.
You have nothing else to do, fays he, but when ever you have drank it, to walk until you rind your Legs stiff, and then to lie down upon your Bed. Thisisallyouhavetodo. Andatthefame time he gave him the Cup, Socrates took it, not onlywithoutany Commotion,orchangeofColour or Countenance, but with Joy ; and looking upon
the Fellow with a steddy and bold Eye, as he was wonttodo,WhatdoyoufayofthisMixture,fays he, isitallowable to make a Drink-Offering of it? Socrates, replied the Man, we never brew more at
once, than what serves for one Dose.
Iunderstandyou, laysSocrates:But atleastitisSocrates
lawfulformetopraytotheGods,thattheywouldf"^^Z0" blesstheVoyage,andrenderithappy. ThisIbegSlZ[ of 'em with all my Soul. Having said that, he
drank it all off, with an admirable Tranquillity and
an unexpressible Calmness.
Hithertowehad,almostallofus,the powerto refrain from Tears; but when we saw him drink it off, we were no longer Masters of our selves. Notwithstanding all my Efforts, Iwas oblig'd to covermy selfwithmy Mantle, thatImight freely regratemy Condition;for'twas notSocrates"smis fortune,butmy own,thatIdeplor'd,inreflecting What a Friend I was losing. Crito, who likewise could not abstain from crying^ had prevented me, and
jrisen. up. And Apollodorus, who searce ceased to cry during the whole Conference, did then howl and cry aloud, insomuch that he mov'd every Body. OnlySocrateshimselfwasnotatallmov. 'd:On ' the contrary,he chid them;What areyou doing, myFriends,layshe;What! suchfineMenasyou are ! O ! Where is Vertue ? Was not it for this
ReasonthatIlentoffthoseWomen,sotfearthey Mm ' should
? ? 178 Phedon: Or,'ADialogue
shouldhavefalleninto thoseWeaknesses;for Ial
wayshearditsaidthataMan oughttodieinTran-
Weshould quillity,and blessingGod ? Be easie then,and shew
diecalmly,moreConstancyandCourage. Thesewordsfill'd UeflingGoi. us wjth Confusion, and forc'd us to suppress our
Tears.
In the mean time he continued to walk, and when
hefelthisLegsstif,helaydown onhisBack,as theMan had order'dhim. Atthe fame time,the fame Man that gave him thePoyson, came up to him, and after looking upon his Legs and Feet, bound up his Feet with all his force, and ask'd him ifhefeltit? Helaid,No. Thenhebounduphis L e g s -, a n d h a v i n g c a r r i e d h i s H a n d h i g h e r , g a v e u s theSignalthathewasquitecold. Socrateslikewise felt himself with his Hand, and told us, that when theCold came up tohisHeart, he should leave us. All his lower Belly was already frozen : And then uncoveringhimselfforhe wascover'd,Crito,fays
.
JfJ53L"3? T a? ckt0mTM1^ */*>>*tbi< trouble him. Vow jor me, and do not forget it. It
Socrates'*lastWords, shallbedone,saysCrito;butfeeif
? . ,, youhaveanythingelsetofaytous. w%'%AE Sot? emad/. <<>m^"**"aUt* again,oyerhisHead. ipaceoftimedeparted. TheMan,who
w a s still b y h i m , h a v i n g u n c o v e r ' d h i m , receiv'd
*Thosewhohavenot div'dintothetruemeaning ofSo crates, charge him with Idolatry and Superstition, upon the score of this Cock that he had vow'd to AEsculapius. But these words should not be taken literally jthey^re aenigma- tical, as many of Tlato's are ; and can never be understood, withoutwe haverecoursetoFiguresandAllegories. The CockhereistheSymbolofLife,andAEsculapiustheEmblem ofPhysick. Socrates\meaningis,thatheresignshisSoulin to the hands of the true Physician, who comes to purifieand healhim. ThisExplicationsuitsadmirablywellwiththe Doctrine taught by Socrates in diis fame Treatise, where he shewsthatKeligiousSacrificeswereonlyFigures. Theodora had a juster Notion of thisPassage, than Latlantius and Ttrtut- Han3 tor he not only did not condemn it,but insinuated that
he, (thesewere hislastWords) * We
it
? ? of the Immortality ofthe Soul. jj0
teceiv'd his last Looks, which continued fix'd upon him. Crito seeing that, came up and closed his 9>uth and Eyes.
This, Echecrates, was the Exit of our Friend, a Man, whotbeyondalldispute,wasthebest,the wisest, and the justest of all our Acquaintance.
itwas Figurative; in his 7th Discourse ofthe Cure of the' OpinionsoftheVagans, Iampersuaded,fayshe,thatSo crates order'd a Cock to be facrific'd to AEsculapius, to shew the Injustice of his Condemnation ; for he was condemn'd for owning no God. He own'd a God, and fhew'd that his God stood in no need of our Sacrifices or Homage, and re- quir'd nothing else from us but Piety and Sanctity.
fXenophon,thatfaithful HistorianottheActions andme morable Sayings of Socrates, gives him the fame Encomium ; andhavinglaid,thathewasthebestManintheWorld,and
? the greatest Favourite of God, concludes in these Words : IfanyManbeofanotherMind,fraylethimcornsarehisManners andfictionswiththoseofotherMen,andthenlethimjudge. In effect, that is the true way of judging of Men. Nothing but the true Religion did ever form a more wonderful ana divineManthanhewas.
Mm* THE
? ? i8o
', THE
INTRODUCTION TO
LACHES.
T H E Education ofChildren isa thing ofsuch Importance, that the welfare of Families and the good of Estates depend wholly upon it. Tis
n o w o n d e r then, that Socrates, w h o lov'd his C o u n try intirely, was lo watchful in hindting the Athe
nians to take false Measures fh reference to that ; andmade ithisbusinesstocuretheirfalsePreju dices. ThegreatestPrejudice,andperhapsthemost pernicious to the Republick, was that which they entertain'd of Valour. The Wars they were then engag'd in, together with those that threaten'd 'em
afar off, had inspir'd 5em with iiich a Martial Ar
dour, that they thought of nothing bet training up their Children to thev Exercise of Arms ; as-being
persuaded that, that was the only way to render themserviceabletotheirCountry. Besides,Chance i t s e l f h a d f o r t i f i e d t h e T h o u g h t -, f o r n o t l o n g b e fore a sort of Fencing-Master came to Athens, who talk'd wonders of his Art, and pretended to teach Valour, and to put his Scholars in a Condition to resist by themselves a greater number of Enemies. The People crouded to his School, and the young People quitted all, to betake themselves to this Exercise. Socrates,foreseeing thedangerousConse
quences of this their Application, labours to prevent it. And that is the Subject of this Conference. As
? ? TheIntroductiontoLaches. ' i$i
As this Dialogue is capable to recommend it self by its great Title , so the Characters of its Actors ought to whet our Curiosity. Lysmachits, Son to the great Ariftides, and Melesias Son to the great Thucidides, being gall'd with the thoughts of their bad Education , and resolv'd to take more Care of their Children, than their Fathers had taken of them ; went to fee for Wicia* and Laches, who made al ready 'a considerable Figure in the Republick, and carried'emtofeethisFencing-Master. Afterthe Show was over , they ask'd the Advice of these two Friends, whether they approv'd of that Exer cise, and whether they should have their Children tolearnit,ornot? SotheexplicationofValourwas theSubjectofDiscourse. And'twasveryprobable that no Man would speak better upon that Subject, thanthesetwo,who hadgivenProofoftheirVa louronseveralOccasions. But,afterall,theydo not think themselves capable to decide such a dif ficultQuestion, withouthelp:Therefore theycall in Socrates to assist 'emx as being one that made the Interest of Youth his whole study 4 and, besides,
gave Proof of an Heroick Courage at the Siege ofPotidoea,and'theBattleofDelium. Niciasisof Opinion thattheExerciseisveryproperforYouth, and admirably well fitted for rendring them brave a n d c l e v e r -, a n d l o o k s u p o n i t a s a m e a n s l e a d i n g toagoodEnd,viz. theArtofWan Lachesat
tacks this Opinion, and makes out the uselelhels of thatExercise by the insignificancy ofitsTeachers, who never didagoodActionintheirwholelife time i and as for Valour, had never purchased the leastReputationintheArmy. Socratesiscalledin to decide the Controverfie. At firsthe pleads his Incapacity for an Excuse : But afterwards insinuates that there's a necessity 6f knowing Men, before one canbeacquaintedwithValour. He makesoutthe falsity of the Notion that great Men had of this Vertue, which is still kept up to this day : And tho' he does not reveal his Mind plainly to those
Mm3 who
? ? j82
the Introduction to Laches.
w h o c a l l e v e r y t h i n g i n q u e s t i o n ? , y e t o n e m a y e a sily perceive his Opinion to be this, That Valour is
a Vertue that reaches all the Actions of our Life, andincludesallotherVertues. ForavaliantMan, is one that'salways accompanied by Prudence, and judgesequally ofthings,past,present,andtocome; who being acquainted with all the Good and Evil, thatis,hasbeen,oristocome,isinaCondition
to arm himselfagainst the one, and omits nothing
tocompasstheother. SothattobeValiant,one mustbeGood? ,andtoeducateYouth aright,they
must be taught wifely to avoid all Evil, and pursue all the Good they can reach, not only from Men, but, which is more important, from God himself; AndtospareneitherLabour norLifeinthepursuit This isSocrates's Doctrine. And Plato has made the World a good Present, in preserving this excel lent Conference : For we ought not to look upon
it as a trial of Wit ; it is entitled to a wonderful Solidity. PursuanttothisDoctrineofSocrates,we fee plainly that the mostvalourous ofallMen were the Martyrs ; for their Valour was accompanied by a true Prudence, which taught 'em to distinguish what is truly Terrible, from that which is not j to know thepast,present, andfutureHappineisorMi s e r y ? , a n d m o v ' d ' e m t o s c r e e n t h e m s e l v e s f r o m t h e
one, and pursue the other at the expence of their Lives.
Itseems Aristotledidnotperceivethefullforce and solidity of these Principles of Socrates, when he arraign'd him for saying that Valour was a Sci ence. Doubtless,itisa Science,butadivineone, that cannot be learn'dfrom Men.
The solidity of this Dialogue is mix'd with a wonderfulagreeableness:Forwhether wemindthe Beauty of hisCharacters, theLivelinessoftheNar rative, the Spirit of the Dialogue, or the Satyrical Stroaks 'tis full of, we find nothing more perfect in its kind. His Satyr upon those mighty Politicians who employ'd all theirCare upon AffairsofState,
and
? ? The Introduction to Laches.
moretheydwellupon'em, secondmy Thoughts, asmuch asispoi- themorethey'llbecon- g^leforaMantodo:andwhenyou yintdofthewtruth. aK once fully convinc>d9 you'll need
no other Proof.
That's well said, repliesCebes.
(a) There's one thing more, my TherewardingtheGood friends thatisaveryjustThought,
and punishing the Wicked . ^ jf tsie Soul js imm0Ital, It
co^rftitf standsinneedtocultivatingandim-
taiityoftheSmi,require provement,notonlyintheTime,that ourCareoftheSoulinthis w? Q^\tneTime ofLife? ,butforthe
Lif'-
Future, or what we call the Time of
Eternity :for ifyou think justly upon this Pointjou'U finditverydangerous to neglect the Soul. Were Death the Dissolution of the whole Man, it would be (b)agreatAdvantagetotheWickedafterDeath,
(a) 'Tis not enough that the Understanding be convinc'd of the Immortality of the Soul : T h e Affections must likewise be mov'd. TowhichendherepresentstheConsequencesotthat importantTruth, andallthatitrequires.
(b) The Wicked would be happv, if the Soul were mor tal. This Principle has a considerable Proof of the Immortali ty of the Soul couch'd in it; for, if the Soul were mortal,
Vertue would be pernicious to theGood, and Vice would be serviceabletotheWicked,whichisunworthyotGod. And by consequence there must be anotherLife, forrewarding the
Good, and punishing the Bad.
? ? of the Immortality ofthe Soul. \63
toberidatonceoftheirBody, theirSoul, andtheir"fl*s0>>l
Vices. ButforasmuchastheSoulisimmortal,the"TM*. "0"
onlyWay toavoidthoseEvilsandobtainSalvation,[i^tthl"
istobecomeGood andWife:foritcarriesnothingWorldsbut alongwithit,butitsgoodorbadActions,andits>>"W <<?
Vertues or Vices, which are the cause of itseternal***-*#<<>>>>* H a p p i n e s s o r M i s e r y , c o m m e n c i n g f r o m t h e first M i nuteofitsarrivalintheotherWorld. AndVissaid,
that after the Death of every individual Person, the
Demon or Genius, that was Partner with it and con ducted it during Life, leads it to a certain Place, where all the Dead are oblig'd to appear in order to be judg'd, and from thence are conducted by a Guide totheWorldbelow. And,aftertheyhavethere
received, their good or bad Deserts, and continued
there their appointed Time, another Conductor brings
'em back to this Life , after several Revolutions of
Ages. NowthisRoadisnotaplainunitedRoad,
else there would be no occasion for Guides, and no
BodywouldmisstheirWay:Butthereareseveral
By-ways and Cross-ways^ asIconjecturefromthe
Method of our Sacrifices and religious Ceremonies.
So that a temperate wife Soul follows its Guide, thi Sacrifi- andisnotignorantofwhathappens toit:butthe"*"**Ce-
Soul,that'snail'dtoitsBody,asIsaidjustnowj;~;? that is inflam'd with the love of it, and has;been Were only
long its Slave, after much strugling and suffering in Figmi. thisvisibleWorld, 4satlastdragg'dalongagainltitsTl"Lie. d! d
Will by the Demon allotted for itsGuide: and when ^^thT'' it arrives at that fatal Rendezvous of all Souls, ifIt Truth. has been guilty of any Impurity , or polluted with Murder, or has committed any of those atrocious Crimes, that desperate and lostSouls 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 De- fart; till after a certain time Necessity drags it into the Mansions it deserves ; whereas the temperate and pure Soul, has theGods themselves for itsGuides and Conductors, and. goes to cohabit with them in
LI 2 the
? ? 164
Phedon: Or, A Dialogue
theMansionsofPleasureprepar'dforit; For,my Friends, there are several marvellous Places in the Earth ; and 'tis not at all such as the Defcribers of it arewonttomakeit,(a)asIwastaughtbyonewho k n e w It very well.
H o w do you sayj, Socrates, says Simmias, interrup
ting him? I have likewise heard several things of
theEarth,butnotwhatyouhaveheard. Where
fore I wish you would be pleas'd to tell us what you
know. Torecountthattoyou,mydearSimmias,Ido
not believe we have any occasion for (b) Glaucm's Art. ButtomakeouttheTruthofit,isamore difficult Matter, and I question if all G/aucus's Art can reach it. Such an Attempt is not only above m y R e a c h ? , b u t s u p p o s i n g i t w e r e n o t , t h e s h o r t TimeIhaveleftmewillnotsuffermetoimbarque
insolongaDiscourse. AHthatleando,is,togive give you a general Idea of this Earth and the Places it contains.
That will be enough, fays Simmias.
, In the first place, continues Socrates, Iam per
suaded, that if the Earth is plac'd in the middle of Heaven, (the Air) as they fay it is, it stands in no
(a) Socratesdoesnotmentionwho taughthimthisDoctrine of the pure Earth : But it is no hard matter to find out the Author. Vrocltuhimselfacknowledges,thatSocratesandVia* o w ' d t h i s i d e a t o t h e S a c r e d T r a d i t i o r t o f t h e E g y p t i a n s , t h a t is totheHebrews,ax)Himvcuyv7r\iovhg? pi)&M7ttt? c/dijhx>>. In Tim. lib. i.
(b) When they mean'd to imply the difficulty of a thing, they were wont to fay, by way or Proverb, That they flood in need cf G/aucus's Art, who, from a Man, became a Sea- Gcd. ButthosewhocommentuponthisProverb,alledgeit was made uponanotherGIancus,who inventedtheForgingof Iron. Brit1amindue'dtobelievethecontrary,bytins,that the Fable of Glaucm, the Sea-God, was founded upon his be
ing an excellent Diver ; to which it is probable Socrates- allu ded:Inearnest,ifonewould visittheEarth hespeaksof,of which ours is'only a Sediment, he mull be a better Diver than G/aucus, in order ro pass the Currents and Seas that divide 'em. He must raise his Thoughts above all Earth or materiel Things,
need
? ? ofthe ImmortalityoftheSoul. i6j
need either of Air or any other Support to prevent its fall: for Heaven it self is wrapp'd equal ly about it, and its own equilibrium issufficient to keep it up : for whatever is equally pois'd in the middle of a thing, that presses equally upon it, can not incline to either fide, and consequently stands firm andunmovable. ThisIamconvinc'dof.
You have reason so to be, replies Simmias.
Iam furtherpersuaded,thattheEarthisvery largeandspacious,andthatwe onlyinhabitthat part of it whith reaches from the River Pha/is to the Straits of Gibraltar, upon which we are seatter'd like so many Ants dwelling in Holes, or like Frogs thatresideinsomeMarshneartheSea. Thereare
several other Nations that inhabit its other Parts thatare unknown to us: for all over the Earth there are Holes jof all Sizes and Figures, always fjll'd with gross Air, and cover'd with thick Clouds, and over flown by the Waters that rush in on all sides.
"There isanother pure Earth above the pure Hea- Theideaof ven where theStarsare, which iscommonly call'dth>>sure
AEther. TheEarthweinhabitisproperlynothingf**! ^] else but the Sediment of the other, and its grosser\^i{^/ef partwhichflowscontinuallyintothoseHoles. WetheVmphets,
are immur'd in those Cells, tho3 we are not sensiblefromwhence of it, and fancy we inhabit the upper part of the 'kEgypti- pure Earth ; much after the fame rate, as if one li-;"s
ving in the Deeps of the Sea should fancy his Ha bitation to be above the Waters ; and, when he sees the Sun and other Stars through the Waters, should fancytheSeatobetheHeavens-,and,byreasonof , his Heaviness and Weakness, having never put forth
his Head orrais'dhimselfabovetheWaters, should never know that the Place we inhabit is purer and neater than his, and should never meet with any Persontoinformhim. ThisisjustourCondition: we aremew'dupwithinsomeHoleoftheEarth, and fancy we live at the top of all; we take the
Air for the true HeavenSj in which the Stars run
LI 3 their j
? ? 166
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
theirrounds. AndthecauseofourMistakeisour Heaviness and Weakness that keep us from sur
mounting this thick and muddy Air. Ifany could mount up with Wings to the upper Surface, he would no sooner put his Head out of this gross Air, hut he would behold what's transacted in those blef fed Mansions ; just as the Fishes, skipping above the
1 SurfaceoftheWaters,leewhat'sdoneintheAirin whichwebreath. Andifhewerea For thetrue Heayens Man fit for long Contemplation, he andtrueLightcannotbe won\c\find\tt0bethetrueHeavenand f m S > 3 . W thetrueLight,inaword tobethetrue
Earth. Forthisharmthatweinhabit, these Stones and all these Places are entirelycor rupted and gnaw'd, just as whatever is in the Sea is corrodedbythesharpnessoftheSalts. AndtheSea producesnothingthat'sperfectorvaluable. Itcon
tainsnothingbutCavesandMud ;and Socrates undervalued wnerever any Ground isfound, there's
alltheTrodwUionsofthe ,. , \ c, . ,: sea,whichwenowesteem nothingbutdeepSloughs, nothingcpm-
jbmuch.
parabletowhatwehavehere. Now
the Things in the other Mansions are more above what we have here, than what we have hereisabovewhatwemeetwithintheSea. And, in order to make you conceive the Beauty of this
Hire Earth situated in the Heayens, if you please, s i' 1 1 t e l l y o u a p r e t t y S t o r y t h a t ' s w o r t h y o u r h e a r ing.
We shallhearit,saysSimmias, withagreatdeal of Pleasure.
(a) Firstofall,my dearSimmiaf,continuesSocra tes, ifone looks upon thisEarth from a high Place, they fay, it looks like one of our Packs cover'd with twelveWeltsofdifferentColours. Foritisvary'd withagreaternumberofdifferentColours, ofwhich those made use of by our Painters are but sorry Pat-
(a) This Description of the Beauty of this pure Earth, the Mansion of the Blessed, is grounded on the J4th Chapter of JJaial}} and the 18th of f. zechiel,
terns.
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. i$j
terns. FortheColoursofthisEarthareinfinitely morecleanandlively. OneisanadmirablePurple5 anothjp Colour of Gold, more sparkling than Gold it self^a third a White more lively than the Snow, and so on of all the rest, the Beauty whereof leaves allourColoursherefarbehindit. TheChinksof thisEartharefill'dwithWaterandAir, whichmake
up an infinity of admirable Shallows, so wonder fullydiversifiedbythatinfinitevarietyof Colours.
In this so perfect an Earth, every thing has a Per fectionanswerabletoitsQualities. TheTrees,Flow ers, Fruits, and Mountains are charmingly beautiful} they produce all forts of precious Stones, of an in
comparable Perfection, Cleannels and Splendour; those we esteem so much here, such as Emeralds, Jasper and Saphir, are but small parcels of them. There isnotoneinthatblessedEarththatisnotin finitelymoreprettythananyofours. TheCauseof all which is, that all these precious Stones are pure, neither gnaw'd nor spoil'd by the sharpneis of the Salts, or the corruption of the Sediment or Dregs that fall from thence into our lower Earth, where
they assemble, and infect not only the Stones and the Earth, butthePlantsandAnimals, withallfortsof Pollution and Diseases.
Besides all these Beauties now mention'd ; this blessedEarthisenrich'dwithGoldandSilver,which - being scatter'd all over in great abundance, casts
forth a charming Splendor on all sides:sothata fightofthisEarth,isaviewoftheBlessed. Itis inhabited by all forts of Animals, and by Men, some H*v{*i*>> of w h o m are cast into the centre of the Earth, and ? f*fefe-/tni'
othersarescatter'dabouttheAir,-aswe areabout^? S>> theSea. TherearesomealsothatinhabittheIfles,/TM>>thevi- form'dbytheAirneartheContinent. Forthere(a)fi? >"? fE-
(a) InthisDescriptionwe mayperceivemostoftheStrokeszechie1-
of that given by Mosesof the terrestrial Paradise, which was a TypeofthisLandoftheJust,thetrueParadise. And,whatI taketobeveryremarkable, wemayplainlyseethatthese Philosophers held this pure Earth to be actually in being at the fame time with this our impure and grosser Earth.
L14 the
? ? %S%
Phedon: Or,"i Dialogue
theAiristhefamething,thatWater and the Sea are here : and the AEther does them the fame Ser vicethattheAirdoestous. TheirSeasonsj^reIb admirablywelltemper'd,thattheirLifeW much
longer than ours, and always freefrom Distempers :
And as for their Sight, Hearing, and all their" other S e n s e s ? , a n d e v e r u t h e i r I n t e l l e c t i t s e l f } t h e y s u r p a s s
us as far as the AEther they breath in exceeds our grossAirforSimplicityandPurity. They havesa cred Groves, and Temples actually inhabited by the Gods, who give evidence of their presence by Ora cles, Divinations, Inspirations, and all other sensible Signs;andwhoconversewith'em. Theyseethe Sun and Moon, without an intervening Medium, andviewtheStarsastheyareinthemselves. And all the other Branches of their Felicity are propor tional to these.
This is the Situation of that Earth, and this is theMatterofallthatsurroundsit. AU-aboutit, there are several Abysses in itsCavities, some of which are deeper and more open than the Country we inhabit; others are deeper, but not so open ; and some again have a more extensive Breadth but
alesserDepth. AlltheseAbyssesarebor'dthrough in several Parts, and have Pipes communicating one with another, thro' which there runs, just as in the Caves of Mount AEtna, a vast quantity of Water, very large and'deep Rivers, Springs of cold and hot Waters, Fountains and (a) Rivers of Fire, and other Rivers of Mud, some thinner and some thicker and 'more muddy, like those Torrents of Mud and of FirethatarecastoutfromMount AEtna.
These Abysses are fill'dWith these Waters in pro portiontotheirfallingputofoneintoanother. All theseSourcesmove both downwardsandupwards, like a Vessel hung above the Earth j which Vessel
(a) "Plato borrows from the Writings of the Prophets, those Rivers of Fire prepar'd forthe Punishment of the Wick-
fid aster their Judgment ; and particularly had read the eighth ChapterofPinks, Theodora, '* "? ? '"? " '. -'. .
? ? oftheImmortalityof$e Soul. i6g
is naturally one, and indeed the greatest of these Abysses : It goes across the whole Earth, and is? &>>thebe- open on two sides. Homer speaks of it, when he ? ''">>'>>? >>f fays (b\ I'll throw it into the obscure Tartarus, JjJfjE"
that's a greatway from hencejthe deepest Abyss/&. " under the Earth. Homer is not the only Author that call'd this Placeby the Name ofTartarus: MostoftheotherFoetsdid thefame.
All the Rivers rendezvous in this Abyss, and run out from thence again. Each of these Rivers is_ tinctur'd with the nature of the Earth through which itruns. Andthereasonoftheirnotstagnatingin theseAbyssesis this,thattheyfindnoGround,but roulandthrowtheirWatersupsidedown. TheAir and Wind that girds 'em about, does the fame, for itfollowsthem bothwhentheyrifeabovetheEarth,
andwhentheydescendtowardsus. Andjustasin the respiration of Animals there is an incessant in gress and egrels of Air, so the Air that's mingled with theWatersaccompaniesthemintheiringress and egress, and raises raging Winds.
W h e n these Waters fall into this lower Abyss, they
diffuse themselves into all the Channels of the S p r i n g s a n d R i v e r s , a n d f i l l t h e m u p ? , j u s t a s i f o n e
were drawing up Water with two Pails, one of which filsastheotherempties. FortheseWaters flowingfromthence,filup allourChannels5from whence diffusing themselves all about, they fil our Seas,Rivers,Lakes andFountains. Afterthatthey disappear, and diving into the Earth, some with a largecompass, and othersbylmallturnings, repair to Tartarus, where they enter by other Passages than those they came out by, and withal much lower. Some re-enter on the fame fide, and others on the
opposite fide to that of their egress j and some a-
(a) The ProphetEzeiielcallsthisTartarus~'Tlienether Tart oftheEarth. HespeaksoftheRiversandWatersinthePit, di<tjf. si, 14, 13. &32. 18. But long before Ezekiel, Homer3 had the fame |dea. 'sirom the Tradition of the Egyptians,
gain
? ? 170
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
<
gain enter on all sides, after they have made one or several turns round the Earth ; like Serpents fold ing their Bodies into several rows ; and having gain'd entrance, rife up to the middle of the Abyss, but cannot reach further, by reason that the other halfishigherthantheirlevel. Theyformseveral very great and large Currents ; but there are four (a) principalones,thegreatestofwhichistheouter mostofall,and iscall'dtheOcean.
Opposite to that is Acheron, which runs through the defart Places,and diving through the Earth, falls intotheMarsh, which fromitiscall'dtheAcberu-
JianLakes,whitherallSoulsrepairupon theirde parture from thisBody ; and having stay'd thereall the time appointed, some a shorter some a longer time, are sent back to this World to animate Beasts.
Between Acheron and the Ocean, there runs a third River, which retires again not far from its Source, and falls into a vast space full of Fire : There it forms a Lake greater than our Sea, in which the Water mix'd with Mud boils, and setting out from thence all black and muddy, runs along the Earth to the end of the Acherufian Lake without m i x i n g w i t h i t s W a t e r s ? , a n d a f t e r h a v i n g m a d e s e
veral turnings under the Earth, throws it self under neath Tartarus ; and this isthe flaming River call'd Fhlegeton, the Streams whereof are seen to fly up upon the Earth in several Places.
Opposite to this is the fourth River, which falls first into a horrible wild Place, of a bluish Colour, call'd by the name of Stygian, where it forms the
(a) These four Rivers which have their Course in the places appointed for the punishment of the Wicked, might have been imagin'd from the four Rivers of the Terrestrial "Pa radise. As the Apartmeut of the just was water'd by four Rivers, which enlarg'd its Delightfulness ; 'twas proper that theApartmentoftheWickedshouldlikewisebewater'dby four Rivers of a contrary nature, which might add to the Horror of that Place of Darkness and Sorrow.
for-
? ? of the Immqrtality of the Soul. 17j
formidable Lake of Styx, And after it has tin- ctufd itselfwithhorriblequalitiesfrom theWa ters of that Lake, dives into the Earth, where it makes several turns, and directing its Course over- against Pblegeton, at last meets it in the Lake of Acheron^where itdoesnotmingleitsWaterswith those of the other Rivers, but after it has run its round on the Earth, throws it self into the Tarta rusbyaPassageoppositetothatofPhlegeton. This
fourthRiveris'call'dbythePoetsCocytus. Nature
h a v i n g t h u s d i s p o s ' d o f a l l t h e s e T h i n g s -, w h e n t h e T h e ? d Dead arrive at the Place whither their Demon leads mmt "fg~ha
them, they are all tried and judged, both those thatG<w and. liv'd a holy and just Life, and those who wallow'd*'*^- in Injustice and Impiety.
Those who are found to have liv'd neither entire-n,ej>>ig.
ly a criminal nor absolutely an innocent Life, are >><<* >>f senttotheAcheron. TheretheyimbarkinBoats,t,mse>. "*>>
and are transported to the Acherufian Lake, where ZbsoiMeh
they 'dwell, and suffer Punishment proportionablecriminal t o t h e i r C r i m e s ? , t i l l a t l a s t b e i n g p u r g ' d a n d c l e a n - >> < " ? >> >> >> * ?
led from their Sins, and set at Liberty, they receive"*'*
the RecomDence of their good Actions. - ? Those whose Sins are uncurable, and have been ^J"ig~
g u i l t y o f S a c r i l e g e a n d M u r d e r , o r s u c h o t h e r C r i m e s , those w h o are by a just and fatal Destiny, thrown headlong are guilty into Tartarus, where they are kept Prisonersfor"/"""'^
ever. . >
But those who are found guilty of curable (Venial) Sins, tho very great ones,suchasofferingViolencetotheir FatherorMotherinaPassion,orkilling
a Man and repenting for it all their lifetime j must of necessity be likewise
cast into Tartarus : But after a Years abodethere,theTidethrowstheHo-
micides backLinto Cocytus, and the Par- ncidesintoPhkgeton,whichdrawsthem intothe Acherufian Lake*: There they
cry out bitterly,and invoque those ir; ,. /. . :;,'. . ,. . . . ? : . - ? ,-
Sms'
"&*Sentenceuponthoft j? "tJ%ti? bs? T tTMe\ cm 'y **"*"
, ',*? *"*&*h<TM*n*
S t A ' S ' K u? ga-Parentisanine^ miflibleSin.
whom
? ? lyz Phedon : Or, 4 Dialogue
whom theykill'doroffer'dViolenceto,toaidthem; and conjure them to forgive 'em, and to suffer 'em topasstheLake,andgivethemadmittance. If they're prevail'd with, they pass the Lake, and
Socrates are deliver'd from their Misery-, if not, they
TtilZaun arecastagain into Tartarus^ which throws them mLstfZ- backintothese Rivers? ,and thiscontinuestobere-
cedethe peated,tilltheyhavesatisfiedtheinjur'dPer- ? Pardonofsons. ForsuchistheSentencepronounc'dagainst
s""- them.
Butthosewho havedistinguifh'dthemselvesbya holy Life, are releas'd from these earthly Places, these horrible Prisons ? ,and are receiv'd above into
that pure Earth, where they dwell -,and those of 'em who are sufficiently purg'd by Philosophy, live for ever without their Body ; and are receiv'd into
yetmore admirable and deliciousMan- . sfoiMf a gre^Er- fions, which I cannot easily describe,
&TFJl? ? Z TMrher? do theTM? TM Limitsofmy the&d-ycouldhegiori- lmieallowmetolaunchintothatSub-
fied. " ject.
. //r. r ,. What I told you but now, is suffici-
tl^iSTsfS cient>>>7dwSimmias,toshewthat
fireui.
we ought to labour all our lifetime
to purchase Vertue and Wisdom, since we have so great a Hope, and so great a Reward propos'd to us.
N o M a n of Sense can pretend to assure you, that alltheseThings arejust asyou have heard. But allthinkingMen willbepositivethat
t^SrtT^ <hestatf<**? Soul,and& Placeof notpositTMoftheMan. 1? sabodeafterdeath,isabsolutelysuch tr. as I represent it to be, or at least very
near it, provided the Soul be Immor- Wlmtvanger morein- tai. And will certainly find it worth
^? KfsforZ'! ^ ? while. toruntheRisque:Forwhat Gain? Danger is more inviting? One must
needs be charm'd with that blessed Hope. AndforthisReasonIhavedilateda. fitde upon thisSubject.
Every
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 175
Every one that during his life-time renounc'd the
Pleasures of the Body, that look'd upon the Appur
tenances of the Body as foreign Ornaments, and
fiding with the contrary Party, pursued only the
Pleasures of truevKnowledge, and beautified hisrhtTied-
Soul, not with foreign Ornaments, but with Orna-/>><<*"strut ments, suitable toitsnature,suchasTemperance,KnwiedZe-
juliice, Fortitude, Liberty andTruth : Such a one, beingfirmly confident oftheHappinessofhisSoul,^ MtMt ought to wait peaceably for the Hour of his remo- oZament, val, as being always ready for the Voyage, wheno/"t/*W. ever his Fate calls him.
Asforyou,mydearSimmiasandCebes,andall youofthisCompany,youshallallfollowmewhen yoiHourcomes. Mineisnow,andasatragical I'cet would lay, the surly Pilot calls me abroad; wherefore'tistimeIshouldgototheBath:ForI think "tis better to drink the Poyson after I am wash'd,inordertosavetheWomenthetroubleof washing me afterI'm dead.
Socrates having thus spoke, Crito address'd him- ? selfto Socrates, thus: Alas then! inGod'sName beit:ButwhatOrdersdo yougiveme andtherest here present, with reference to your Children or your Affairs, that by putting them in execution, we may at least have the Comfort of obliging you ?
What I now recommend toyou,Crito, replies So
crates, is what I always recommended, viz. ToT? af""~
takeCareofyourselves. Youcannotdoyourselves^wfw a more considerable piece of Service, nor oblige m e * W they and my Family more, (a) than to promise me atf4*<<Care? /
themfelyts.
(a) There'sagreatdealofSenseinwhatSocratesheretells^\'ST
hisFriends:Hedesires'emonlytotakeCareofthemselves,? "r? because if they take Care of themselves, they'll prove good ~ t,at
Men;and,beingsuch,willdoallgoodOfficestohisFami- ra-fer'
ly,tho'theydidnotpromiseit:For goodMenarehonest, and take pleasure in doing Good, and love their Neighbour. Whereas if they neglect themselves,notwithstanding all their faitPromises,theywould notbecapabletodoanythingei therforhimorthemselves. Nonebutgood-MencandoSer vices. How greatisthisTruth!
this
? ? 174
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
thistimesotodo. Whereasifyouneglect:youi selves, and refuse to form your Lives according to the (b) Model I always proposed to you, and follow it as itwere by the footsteeps ; all your Protesta tions and offers of Service will be altogether useless
to me.
W e shall do our utmost. , Socrates, replies Crito, to
obeyyou. Buthowwillyoubeburied? Justasyou please,saysSocrates$ifyoucanbur catchme,andifIdonotgiveyoutheflip. Atthe fame time, looking upon us with a gentle smile, I
cannot,fayshe,compassmy EndinpersuadingCriti that this is Socrates who discourses with you and methodises all the Parts of his Discourse ; and /rill he fanfiesthat Socratesisthethingthat shallsee Death by and by. He confounds me with my Corps-, and in that view asks how 1 must be bu ried ? And all this long Discourse that I made to you but now, in order to make it out, that as soon as I shall have taken down the Poyson, I shall stay no longer with you, but shall part from hence and go to enjoy the Felicity of the Blessed -,in a word, all that I have said for your Consolation and mine, isto no purpose, but itisall lost, with reference to him. 1begofyouthat. youwouldbeBailforme toCrito,but after acontrary manner to thatin whichheoffer'dtoBailmetomyJudges$forhe engag'd that I would not be gone : Pray engage sot me, that I shall no sooner be dead, but 1 shall k gone, to the end that poor Crito may bear ray death more steddily , and when he sees m y Body burnt or interr'd, may not despair, as if I suffer'd great Misery $ and say at m y Funeral, that Socrata is laid out, Socrates iscarried out, Socrates is in terr'd. Foryoumustknow,mydearCrito,fayshe turning to him, that speaking amiss of Death is
Q>) This Model is God ;for he stilltold 'em that they should render themselves conformable to God, as m u c h as hu man Weakness would btar.
not
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 175
not only a Fault in the way of speaking, but like
wise wounds the Soul. You shou'd have more***D's-
Courage andHope, and saythatmy Body istobeJf^JjJJ- interr'd. Thatyoumayinterrasyoupleafe,andj*STr. inthe. manner that'smostconformabletoourLawstheSaid. and Customs. ,
Having spoke thus, he role and went into the next Room to bathe. Crito follow'd him, and he desiredweshouldattendhim. Accordinglyweall attended him, and entertain'd our selves one while with a Repetition and farther Examination of what hehadsaid,another whileinspeakingofthemise rableStatethatwas beforeus. Forwe all look'd
upon our selves as Persons depriv'd of our good Fa ther, that were about to pass the rest of our Life in an Orphan-state.
After he came out of the Bath, they brought his Children to him ? , for he had three, two little ones,
and one thatwas prettybig:And theWomen of hisFamilycameallintohim. Hespoketothem some time" in the presence of Crito, gave 'em their Orders, and order'd 'em to retire, carry his Chil dren along with 'em, and then came back to us, 'Twas then towards Sun setting, for he had been 9. lone while inthelittleRoom.
When he came in he sat down upon hisBed, without saying much : For much about the same time the Officerof the Eleven Magistrates came in, and drawing near to him, Socrates, lays he, I have no occasion to make the same Complaint of you, that 1 have every day of those in the same Condi tion : For as soon as I come to acquaint 'em, by Orders from the Eleven Magistrates, that they must drink the Poyson, they are incens'd against me and curseme:Butasforyou,eversinceyoucamein to this Place, I have found you to be the most eventemper'd,thecalmestandthebestMan thatever enter'dthisPrison;andIam confidentthatatpresent you are not angry with me -,doubtless you ar<< an gry with none but those who arc the cause ot
your -rr*.
? ? torn.
longer.
Whereupon Crito gave the Sign to the Slave that
waitedjustby. TheSlavewentout,andafterhe had spent some time in brewing the Poyson, re- turn'd accompanied by him that was to give it* and
(a) This affords us an admirable Prospect of the infinite differencebetweenSocratesandthosebrutishMen,who died without any other Sentiments of their Misery.
ij6
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
your misfortune. You know 'em without naming. On thisOccasion, Socrates,youknow what Icome to tell you -,farewell, endeavour to bear this Ne cessitywithaconstantMind. Haviigspokethus, he began to cry, and turning his Back upon us, re-
tir'd a little. Farewell my Friend, fays Socrates, looking upon him, 111 follow the Counsel thou gi- vest me. Mind, says he, what Honesty is in that Fellow:DuringmyImprisonmenthecameoftento lee me, and Hiscours'd with me : He's more worth than all the rest: How heartily he cries for me ! Let us obey him with a handsom meen, m y dear Crito-, if the Poyson be brew'd, let him bring it; if not, let him brew it himself.
But methinks Socrates, fays Crito, the Sun shines upontheMountains,andisnotyetset;and Iknow several in your Circumstances did not drink the Poysbn till a long time after the Order was given-, that they supp'd very well, (a) and enioy'd any thing they had a mind to : Wherefore I conjure you not to press so hard ; you hav8 yet time enough.
Those who do as you fay, Crito, fays Socrates, ke Judes kave t^ie" own Rea*? ns j tnev think it is just as toarer/emuchgaind:AndIhavelikewisemyReasonsfcr o / H c s i o d , n o t d o i n g s o -, f o r t h e o n l y A d v a n t a g e I c a n h a v e >>'*>ftp, by drinking itlater, isto make my self ridiculous l! ! csZ- t0my selt'inbeinSfofoolislllyfondofLife, asto rfarJhm pretend to husband it in the last Minute, when
one'scome there is no more tocome. Go then, my dear Cri- tothehot-f0^anddoasIbidyoudo,anddonotvexmeno
hrought
? ? of the Immortality of the Scul 177
broughtitalltogetherinaCup; Socratesfeeing him come in^ that'svery well, my Friend, layhej but what must I do ? For you know best, and 'tis yourbusinessto directme.
You have nothing else to do, fays he, but when ever you have drank it, to walk until you rind your Legs stiff, and then to lie down upon your Bed. Thisisallyouhavetodo. Andatthefame time he gave him the Cup, Socrates took it, not onlywithoutany Commotion,orchangeofColour or Countenance, but with Joy ; and looking upon
the Fellow with a steddy and bold Eye, as he was wonttodo,WhatdoyoufayofthisMixture,fays he, isitallowable to make a Drink-Offering of it? Socrates, replied the Man, we never brew more at
once, than what serves for one Dose.
Iunderstandyou, laysSocrates:But atleastitisSocrates
lawfulformetopraytotheGods,thattheywouldf"^^Z0" blesstheVoyage,andrenderithappy. ThisIbegSlZ[ of 'em with all my Soul. Having said that, he
drank it all off, with an admirable Tranquillity and
an unexpressible Calmness.
Hithertowehad,almostallofus,the powerto refrain from Tears; but when we saw him drink it off, we were no longer Masters of our selves. Notwithstanding all my Efforts, Iwas oblig'd to covermy selfwithmy Mantle, thatImight freely regratemy Condition;for'twas notSocrates"smis fortune,butmy own,thatIdeplor'd,inreflecting What a Friend I was losing. Crito, who likewise could not abstain from crying^ had prevented me, and
jrisen. up. And Apollodorus, who searce ceased to cry during the whole Conference, did then howl and cry aloud, insomuch that he mov'd every Body. OnlySocrateshimselfwasnotatallmov. 'd:On ' the contrary,he chid them;What areyou doing, myFriends,layshe;What! suchfineMenasyou are ! O ! Where is Vertue ? Was not it for this
ReasonthatIlentoffthoseWomen,sotfearthey Mm ' should
? ? 178 Phedon: Or,'ADialogue
shouldhavefalleninto thoseWeaknesses;for Ial
wayshearditsaidthataMan oughttodieinTran-
Weshould quillity,and blessingGod ? Be easie then,and shew
diecalmly,moreConstancyandCourage. Thesewordsfill'd UeflingGoi. us wjth Confusion, and forc'd us to suppress our
Tears.
In the mean time he continued to walk, and when
hefelthisLegsstif,helaydown onhisBack,as theMan had order'dhim. Atthe fame time,the fame Man that gave him thePoyson, came up to him, and after looking upon his Legs and Feet, bound up his Feet with all his force, and ask'd him ifhefeltit? Helaid,No. Thenhebounduphis L e g s -, a n d h a v i n g c a r r i e d h i s H a n d h i g h e r , g a v e u s theSignalthathewasquitecold. Socrateslikewise felt himself with his Hand, and told us, that when theCold came up tohisHeart, he should leave us. All his lower Belly was already frozen : And then uncoveringhimselfforhe wascover'd,Crito,fays
.
JfJ53L"3? T a? ckt0mTM1^ */*>>*tbi< trouble him. Vow jor me, and do not forget it. It
Socrates'*lastWords, shallbedone,saysCrito;butfeeif
? . ,, youhaveanythingelsetofaytous. w%'%AE Sot? emad/. <<>m^"**"aUt* again,oyerhisHead. ipaceoftimedeparted. TheMan,who
w a s still b y h i m , h a v i n g u n c o v e r ' d h i m , receiv'd
*Thosewhohavenot div'dintothetruemeaning ofSo crates, charge him with Idolatry and Superstition, upon the score of this Cock that he had vow'd to AEsculapius. But these words should not be taken literally jthey^re aenigma- tical, as many of Tlato's are ; and can never be understood, withoutwe haverecoursetoFiguresandAllegories. The CockhereistheSymbolofLife,andAEsculapiustheEmblem ofPhysick. Socrates\meaningis,thatheresignshisSoulin to the hands of the true Physician, who comes to purifieand healhim. ThisExplicationsuitsadmirablywellwiththe Doctrine taught by Socrates in diis fame Treatise, where he shewsthatKeligiousSacrificeswereonlyFigures. Theodora had a juster Notion of thisPassage, than Latlantius and Ttrtut- Han3 tor he not only did not condemn it,but insinuated that
he, (thesewere hislastWords) * We
it
? ? of the Immortality ofthe Soul. jj0
teceiv'd his last Looks, which continued fix'd upon him. Crito seeing that, came up and closed his 9>uth and Eyes.
This, Echecrates, was the Exit of our Friend, a Man, whotbeyondalldispute,wasthebest,the wisest, and the justest of all our Acquaintance.
itwas Figurative; in his 7th Discourse ofthe Cure of the' OpinionsoftheVagans, Iampersuaded,fayshe,thatSo crates order'd a Cock to be facrific'd to AEsculapius, to shew the Injustice of his Condemnation ; for he was condemn'd for owning no God. He own'd a God, and fhew'd that his God stood in no need of our Sacrifices or Homage, and re- quir'd nothing else from us but Piety and Sanctity.
fXenophon,thatfaithful HistorianottheActions andme morable Sayings of Socrates, gives him the fame Encomium ; andhavinglaid,thathewasthebestManintheWorld,and
? the greatest Favourite of God, concludes in these Words : IfanyManbeofanotherMind,fraylethimcornsarehisManners andfictionswiththoseofotherMen,andthenlethimjudge. In effect, that is the true way of judging of Men. Nothing but the true Religion did ever form a more wonderful ana divineManthanhewas.
Mm* THE
? ? i8o
', THE
INTRODUCTION TO
LACHES.
T H E Education ofChildren isa thing ofsuch Importance, that the welfare of Families and the good of Estates depend wholly upon it. Tis
n o w o n d e r then, that Socrates, w h o lov'd his C o u n try intirely, was lo watchful in hindting the Athe
nians to take false Measures fh reference to that ; andmade ithisbusinesstocuretheirfalsePreju dices. ThegreatestPrejudice,andperhapsthemost pernicious to the Republick, was that which they entertain'd of Valour. The Wars they were then engag'd in, together with those that threaten'd 'em
afar off, had inspir'd 5em with iiich a Martial Ar
dour, that they thought of nothing bet training up their Children to thev Exercise of Arms ; as-being
persuaded that, that was the only way to render themserviceabletotheirCountry. Besides,Chance i t s e l f h a d f o r t i f i e d t h e T h o u g h t -, f o r n o t l o n g b e fore a sort of Fencing-Master came to Athens, who talk'd wonders of his Art, and pretended to teach Valour, and to put his Scholars in a Condition to resist by themselves a greater number of Enemies. The People crouded to his School, and the young People quitted all, to betake themselves to this Exercise. Socrates,foreseeing thedangerousConse
quences of this their Application, labours to prevent it. And that is the Subject of this Conference. As
? ? TheIntroductiontoLaches. ' i$i
As this Dialogue is capable to recommend it self by its great Title , so the Characters of its Actors ought to whet our Curiosity. Lysmachits, Son to the great Ariftides, and Melesias Son to the great Thucidides, being gall'd with the thoughts of their bad Education , and resolv'd to take more Care of their Children, than their Fathers had taken of them ; went to fee for Wicia* and Laches, who made al ready 'a considerable Figure in the Republick, and carried'emtofeethisFencing-Master. Afterthe Show was over , they ask'd the Advice of these two Friends, whether they approv'd of that Exer cise, and whether they should have their Children tolearnit,ornot? SotheexplicationofValourwas theSubjectofDiscourse. And'twasveryprobable that no Man would speak better upon that Subject, thanthesetwo,who hadgivenProofoftheirVa louronseveralOccasions. But,afterall,theydo not think themselves capable to decide such a dif ficultQuestion, withouthelp:Therefore theycall in Socrates to assist 'emx as being one that made the Interest of Youth his whole study 4 and, besides,
gave Proof of an Heroick Courage at the Siege ofPotidoea,and'theBattleofDelium. Niciasisof Opinion thattheExerciseisveryproperforYouth, and admirably well fitted for rendring them brave a n d c l e v e r -, a n d l o o k s u p o n i t a s a m e a n s l e a d i n g toagoodEnd,viz. theArtofWan Lachesat
tacks this Opinion, and makes out the uselelhels of thatExercise by the insignificancy ofitsTeachers, who never didagoodActionintheirwholelife time i and as for Valour, had never purchased the leastReputationintheArmy. Socratesiscalledin to decide the Controverfie. At firsthe pleads his Incapacity for an Excuse : But afterwards insinuates that there's a necessity 6f knowing Men, before one canbeacquaintedwithValour. He makesoutthe falsity of the Notion that great Men had of this Vertue, which is still kept up to this day : And tho' he does not reveal his Mind plainly to those
Mm3 who
? ? j82
the Introduction to Laches.
w h o c a l l e v e r y t h i n g i n q u e s t i o n ? , y e t o n e m a y e a sily perceive his Opinion to be this, That Valour is
a Vertue that reaches all the Actions of our Life, andincludesallotherVertues. ForavaliantMan, is one that'salways accompanied by Prudence, and judgesequally ofthings,past,present,andtocome; who being acquainted with all the Good and Evil, thatis,hasbeen,oristocome,isinaCondition
to arm himselfagainst the one, and omits nothing
tocompasstheother. SothattobeValiant,one mustbeGood? ,andtoeducateYouth aright,they
must be taught wifely to avoid all Evil, and pursue all the Good they can reach, not only from Men, but, which is more important, from God himself; AndtospareneitherLabour norLifeinthepursuit This isSocrates's Doctrine. And Plato has made the World a good Present, in preserving this excel lent Conference : For we ought not to look upon
it as a trial of Wit ; it is entitled to a wonderful Solidity. PursuanttothisDoctrineofSocrates,we fee plainly that the mostvalourous ofallMen were the Martyrs ; for their Valour was accompanied by a true Prudence, which taught 'em to distinguish what is truly Terrible, from that which is not j to know thepast,present, andfutureHappineisorMi s e r y ? , a n d m o v ' d ' e m t o s c r e e n t h e m s e l v e s f r o m t h e
one, and pursue the other at the expence of their Lives.
Itseems Aristotledidnotperceivethefullforce and solidity of these Principles of Socrates, when he arraign'd him for saying that Valour was a Sci ence. Doubtless,itisa Science,butadivineone, that cannot be learn'dfrom Men.
The solidity of this Dialogue is mix'd with a wonderfulagreeableness:Forwhether wemindthe Beauty of hisCharacters, theLivelinessoftheNar rative, the Spirit of the Dialogue, or the Satyrical Stroaks 'tis full of, we find nothing more perfect in its kind. His Satyr upon those mighty Politicians who employ'd all theirCare upon AffairsofState,
and
? ? The Introduction to Laches.
