No More Learning

PH No,sure;tfor'tissaidtheywereatAE-
gina.
Echec. W h o was there besides ?
Fbed. I believe I have named most of thole that
were there.
Echec. Let's hear then what his last Discourses
were.
* 'Tis the fame Cebeswho made the Table that we now have ; which is an Explication of ah Allegorical Table, that he supposes to have been in the Temple of Saturn at Thebes ; and contains a very ingenious Scheme of a Man's whole Life. IthintsatalltheDoctrinesofSocrates,andthe Styleresem bles that of Vlato.
tTheDelicacyandSaltofthisSatyristhusexplmn'dby DemetriusVhaleraus. "Plato,fayshe,had a mind to suppress the Scandal that Arifiiffns and cleombrotut drew upon them-* selves, by feasting at AEgina, when Socrates their Friend and MasterwasinPrison,withoutdaigningtogotoseehim,or even to assist on the day of his Death, tho' they were then at the entry of the Athenian Harbour. Had he told the whole Story, the Invective had been too particular. But with an admirable Decency and Artfulness he introduces Vbe- den, giving a Lilt ofthose who assisted at his Death, and making Answer to the Question, (Whether they were there or not ? ) That they were at AEgina ; pointing at once to theirDebaucheryandIngratitude. Thisstroakisthemore biting, that the Thing it self paints out the Horror of the Action,andnothethatspeaks. Vlato. mightsecurelyhave attackd ^irtstifpH* and Cleombrotus-,but he chose rather to make use of this Figure, which in effect gives the greater Blow. This isanota'oiePiece ofdelicateSatyr. Mitcntm by charging Vlato with slander upon this score prejudiced himself,' more than Vlato, who wisl always be cry'd up for having this Zeal for his Master.
shed.
? ? ofthe ImmortalityoftheSoul. 85
Fhed. I shall endeavour to give you a full Ac count:Forwe nevermissedone day invisitingSo crates. TothisEndwemeteverymorninginthe Place where he was try'd, whichjoyn'd to the Pri son-,andtherewewaitedtillthePrisonDoors ' wereopen5atwhichtimewewentstraighttohim,
and commonly palled the whole day with him. OnthedayofhisExecution,wecame thithersoo ner than ordinary, having heard as we came out of the City that the Ship was return'd from Debs.
Whenwearriv'dtheGoalerthatusedtoletusin,
came out to us and defir'd we should stay a little andnotgointillhecametoconductus. For,fays^jfim*-
he, the eleven Magistrates are now untying So-^Jft"e0_ crates, and acquainting him that he must die, asw/<<<< <<. / this day. When we came inwe found SocratestheVri/t, *unty'd, and hisWife Xantippe (you know her)^Pl'";
fittingbyhimwithoneofhisChildreninherArmsj^TSw-
and as soon as she spy'd us, she fell a crying and torsoft . makinganoise,asyouknowWomen commonly$<<. -<<>>'? ? ;
do onsuch Occasions. Socrates,saidhe,thisisthet! h'? '
laji time your Friends Jhallfee you. Upon which
Svcrates turning to Crito, says, Critoiprayfend this
Woman home. Accordingly it- was done. Crito's ? Folks carry'd Xantippe oft, who beat her Face and
cry'dbitterly. InthemeantimeSocrates^fictiro,up
on theBed,softlystroakstheplaceofhi*Legwp. crcihvv/ea. theChainhadbeenty'd,andfays,Tomymindvviiai/. -r ? <<<*
Men callPleasure,isa pretty oddfortofaTnlhg,>>/? -'>>><<'>> which agrees admirably well with Pain; rho5 Peo
ple believe ic isquite contrary, because they cannot
meet in one and the same Subject. For w::ojver
enjoys the one, must unavoidably be pofless a ," m e other, as if they were naturallyjoyn'd.
HadAEsopbeenawareofthisTruth,perhapslie had made a Fable of it-,and had told us ,? >n
'* At Athens, afterthe Sentence waspronoune'd enrheCri minal, they untyM him, as being a Vidtim to Deau>>3 w. ic;i it was not lawful to keep in Chains.
Ff3 God
? ? 86 Phedon: Or, A Dialogue
Socrates GoddesigningtoreconcilethesetwoEnemies,and feigning notjjeingabletocompasshisEnd,contentedhirn-
Gds ty'd sc^ witn tJr^nS tnem t0 one Chain ; so that ever ? pleasure sincetheonefollowstheother,accordingtomy
<mdTaintoExperienceatthisMinute. ForthePainoccasion'd onechain, by my Chain, isnow follow'd by a great deal of
? &? ? Measure.
ofarMe. Iam infinitelyglad,repliesCebes interrupting
him, that you have mention'd AEsop. For by so doingyouhaveputitinmyHeadtoaskyouaQue stionthatmany haveask'dofme,oflate,especially
Evenus of Evenus. The Question relates to your Poems in
Eh^acT tuTMngtneFablesofAEsopintoVerse,andmaking To*,the a Hymn to Apollo, They want to know what first'that mov'd you, that never made Verses before, to turn said Habit Poet fince y0U came into the Prison ? IfEvenus asks
JJXJ ? the fameQuestionofmeagain,asIknow hewill, whatwouldyouhavemetofay?
You have nothing to do, fays Socrates, but to tell WI>m mov'd him the plain matter of Fact as it stands-, viz. That Socratesto\jjd notatz\\meantorivalhiminPoetry,forI
a,afieThuknew such an attempt was above my reach-, but
condemn*- tio>>,
orderZtTM
onty to trace tne meaning of some Dreams, and put myselfinacapacityofobeying,incasePoetry happen'd to be the Musick that they allotted for myExercise. Foryoumultknow,thatallmylife- x^me Islave had Dreams, which always recommend-
'hmtoap- ed the fame Thing tome, sometimes in one Form flyhimselfandsometimesinanother. Socrates,saidthey,ap<
toMtsick. plyyourselftoMustek. ThisIalwaystookfora.
simple Exhortation, like that commonly given to
Wisdomu tno^ wn0 runK-aces5orderingme topursuemy
theperfitt. wonted course of Lise, and carry on the study of estMustek. Wisdom, thatImademywholeBusiness,whichis
themostperfectMusick. ButsincemyTrial,the Festival of Apollo having retarded the execution of my Sentence, Ifinsied these Dreams might have
Howtofan-order'd me to apply my self to that vulgar and fjffi7e'S commotl f? rt ? f Musick : And since I was departing
hir exit t^s World, I thought it safer to sanctifie m y self . by
? ? cf the Immortality of the Soul. 87
by obeying the Gods, and essaying to make Verses, thantodisobeythem. PursuanttothisThought,>Tisnot
my firstEssay was aHymn totheGod whole Fesli-verseUt val was then celebrated. After that I consider'dF*i>iethat that atruePoetoughtnotonlytomake Discourses^ak"*7j<>-
inVerse,butlikewiseFables. Nowfindingmyselfu^fiU not disposed to invent new Fables,Iapply'dmy<alengthin self to those of AEsop, and turn'd'thbse into Verse Aristotle'* thatcamefirstintomy Mind. Poeticon.
This, m y dear Cebes, is the Answer you're to give Evenus. Assurehim,thatIwishhimallhappiness; and tell him, that if he be wife, he'll follow me. For inallappearance Iam tomake my Exitthis Day, since the Athenians have given Orders to that effect.
What fort of Counsel isthat you give to Evenus, repliesSymmias;IhaveseenthatManoften:And
? bywhatIknowofhim,Icanpromiseyouhe'llne ver follow you with his Will.
What, fays Socrates, is not Everius a Philoso-^^ pher > * ? vhiioso-
I think so, says Symmiat. piTM ; or
Then, replies Socrates, he, and all others that are *#* be's" worthy of that Profession, will be willing to M-sorryVoet'
lowme. Iknow hewillnotkillhimself,forthat,Self->>>>*rdcr theyfay,isnotlawful. Havingspokethesewords"Jnlaw-
he drew his Legs off the Bed, and fate down upon the Ground ; in which Posture he entertain'd us the whole remaining part of the Day.
Cebes put the firstQuestion to him,which was this.
H o w do you reconcile this Socrates, that 'tisnot law
ful to kill one's self, and at the fame time that a
Philosopher ought to follow you ?
? What, replies Socrates, did neither you nor Sym
mias ever hear your Friend * Phi/o/aus discourse that Point ?
* "Philolaus was a Pythagorean Philosopher, w h o could not fail to assert his Master's Doctrine, of the unlawfulness of Self-murder. HewroteonlyoneVolume,which"Platopur
chased at 400 Crowns.
Ff4 No,
? ? 8S
v
Phedon: Or, A Dialogue
No, reply'd they, he never explained himselfclear
ly upon that Point. >. -. ->>
1 As for me, repliesSocrates, Iknow nothingbut
what I have heard, and (hall not grudge to com municate all that I have learn'd. Besides, there's noExercisesosuitableforaMan uponthepointof Death, as that of examining and endeavouring tho- rowly toknow whatVoyagethis isthatwe must all make, and making known his own Opinion up onit. -
What isthegroundofthat Assertion,faysCebes, that 'tisnotlawfulfor aMan tokill himself> I have often heard Philolaus and others fay that it was an ill Action, but I never heard 'em fay more.
H a v e Patience, fays Socrates,you shall k n o w m o r e presently, and perhaps you'll be surprised to find it aneternalTruththat neverchanges;whereasmost
f ? w ^ otner Things TM this World alter according to their deliverInm-_. _ q . . . ? _. ,<< , r ? . ,
self,Ut Circumstancesjthisis:stillthe. lame,eveninthe mistwait Case of those to whom Death would be more a- tUiGodde-greeablethanLife. Isitnotasurprisingthingthat
""' such Men are not allow'd to possess themselves of
the Good they want, but are oblig'd to wait for another Deliverer >? '>? ? ?
Jupiter only knows that, replies Cebes smiling. The Dis- This may seem unreasonable to you, says Socrates,
Zvelp/e butaftera11 " isnot so- The Discourses we are inthecLe- entertain'd with every day in our Ceremonies and moniesand Mysteries, viz. That God has put us in this Life, as Mysteries \nap0jiwfychwecannotquitwithouthisleave,8CC
%? ***? TheseI-fay,and suchlikeExpressions,,mayseem
, '. ^hard,andsurpass ourUnderstanding; But nothing
God'lv'n- *s eafier t0 be understood, or better said, than this,
feny,isaThattheGodstakeCareofMen,and. thatMenare
VnofthatoneofthePoJJeJJionsthatbelongtotheGods. Isnot hehasno tsljsrru? ?
bwise/f. Very true' reP"es Cebes.
Would not you your self, continues Socrates, be
angry if one of your Slaves kiU'd himself without t'-- ,i\ your
? ? 0$ the Immortally os the $oul t&
your order,and would net you punish him severely if
you could ?
? Yes, doubtless, replies Cebes.
B y the fame reason, says Socrates^ a M a n should not kill himself, but should wait for an express or derfromGodformakinghisExit, likethissentme now. ". i
T h a t s t a n d s t o R e a s o n , s a y s C e b e s ? , b u t y o u r f a y - C e b e s o h - ing, That a Philosopher ought nevertheless to desirejests, that to die, is what I think strange , and I cannot recon- f16" P"TM1* cile these t w o Opinions, especially if it be true,what J * * ^ ? ? yousaidbutnow, thattheGodstakecareofMen,*^pMe
as beingtheir Property: For that a Philosopherthebodsare shouldnotbetroubledtobewithouttheGods for****^uar-
hisGuardians,andtoquitaLifewheresuchper-
sect Beings, the better Governours of the World,
take Care of him, seems very unreasonable tome.
Do theyimaginethey'llbemorecapableto govern
themselves,when lefttothemselves? Icaneasily
conceive that a Fool may think ithis Duty to flee
fromagoodMasteratanyrate$andwillnotbe
convine'd that he ought to stick to what is good^
andneverlosesight ofit:ButIaffirm,thataw. ise
sxrei
M a n will desire never to quit a Dependance upon i The wife perfecterBeingthanhimself. FromwhenceIinfer*>'&<<*<<? <k-
thecontraryofwhatyou advanced,andconclude/**,t0de~ that the Wise are sorry to die, and Fools are fond q0^ ufon
of death.
Socrates seem'd to be pleas'd with Cebe's Witj and cebes'* ob-
turning to us, told us, that Cebes has always some- }<&><>"? is t h i n g t o o b i e c t ? , a n d t a k e s c a r e n o t t o a s s e n t a t f i r s t f b ^ 1 "
V . ? ^n (. towhat istoldhim.
:Indeed,repliesSimmias,ImustfayI findagreat deal of reason in what Cebes advances. What can theSages pretend togain, byquitting betterMa sters. than themselves, and willingly depriving them selves of their Aid ? D o you mind that ; 'tis you
alone that he addresses himself to, meaning to re
Ue. Without ^solidity.
prove you sot your Insensibility, in being so willing
to part with us, and quit the Gods, who, according L- ? ; :? . . to
? ? jfo
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
to your own Words, are such good and wise Go vernors.
You are in the right of it, fays Socrates . - I lee you mean to oblige me to make formal Defences, suchasIgaveinatmy Tryal.
' That'stheverything,repliesSimmias.
Socrates _Then,faysSocrates,youmustfatisfieyourselves, ht*"oi? ~**? tIiattIlismy^ apologymayhavemorein st! ^ andAuence uPon y? u5 tnan my former had upon my
prove! ,thatJudges. Formy part,continuesbe,ifIthoughtI thewife shouldnotfindintheotherWorldGodsasgoodand should de- as wjfe^ anci ^|en infinitely better than we, 'twould
TheGui *>eapieceofInjusticeinmenottobetroubledat takeCareo/death. ButbeitknowntoyouSimmiasandtoyou Mm intheCebes,thatIhopetoarriveattheAssemblyofthe etherWorld,j^ indeedinthisPointImayflattermyself-,
ft means but as for my rjnding in the other World Masters
bfhaT'mt ^finitely good and wise, that I can assure you of, as Goodmfi muchasthingsofthatNaturewillbear? ,and
emughto thereforeitisthatdeathisnotroubletome,hoping makegood that there's something reserv'd for the dead after
i! inn- tnisLife>andthattneSoodmeetwithbetterTreat- ai"fd"intoment m tsieWorld to come than the bad.
the^tjsembly
*ftf*Jufl. How,repliesSimmias,wouldyouhavequitted
<<nUtu tn*s^e'witnoutcommunicatingthoseSentiments treatedIn t0us*Thismethinkswillbeacommon Good;and
tieother ifyouconvinceusofallthatyoubelievewithre- World,thanserencetothisPoint,youhavemade asufficientA-
ThtDodrim PoloSy<<
of the Im
mortalityof That'swhatIdesigntotry,faysSocrates? ,butI
theSoul wouldfirsthearwhatQritohastofay:Ithoughthe shouldbe fadamindtooffersomethingaprettywhileago. commumca- T, ,. ,, ? ,f A. ,"ar" udtoothers Inavenothingtosay,repliesinto,butwhat
your Executioner has been pushing me on to tell you thisgreatwhile, that you ought to speak as little as you can for fear of over-heating your self, sincenothingismore contrarytotheOperationof Poisonjinsomuchthatifyoucontinuetospeak so
(c) you'll
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 91
(a) you'll be obliged to take two or three Doses. Let him do his Office, fays Socrates -, let him make ready two Doses ofPoUon,or three ifhe will.
1 knew you- would give me that answer, replies C r i t o -, b u t s t i l l h e i m p o r t u n e s m e t o s p e a k t o y o u . Pray let that alone, fays Socrates, and suffer m e to
explain before you who aremy Judges, for what Reasons, a Man enlightned by Philosophy, ought to diewithCourageandafirmhopethatintheother World he shall enjqy a Felicity beyond any thing in this. PraydoyouSimmiasandCebeslistentomy Arguments.
TruePhilosophersmake itthewhole businessos'*? ***** theirlife-timetolearntodie. Now'tisextream-fti'Jj" ly ridiculous for them, after they run out a whole their iifi.
Course incessantly in order to compass that one end, time.
to flinch and be afraid when it c<<mes up to them, when they are just in a Capacity of obtaining it after a long and painful Search.
Whereupon Simmias laughed and told him, in ear
nestSocratesyou make me laugh, notwithstanding
the small occasion, I have to laugh in this Juncture.
For I am certain the greatest part of those who
hearyoutalkso,willlayyoutalkmuchbetterof thePhilosophersthanyoubelieve. Aboveall,theAfatJriMt
Athenians would beglad thatallthePhilosophers? rJS. would learn that Lesson so well as to die in Effect ;ans, who
and they'l be ready to tell you,death is the only thing *mlA not they are worthy of. **'* vhi~
Simmias, replies Socrates, our Athenians would los"r'ers'
so speak the Truth, but without knowing it to be such : For they are ignorant in what manner Philo sophers desire to die, or h o w they are worthy of it. But let us leave the Athenians to themselves ; and
fa) Probably the Executioner rnean'd by this Advice to keepfairwith Socrates, and savehis Money;forhewas to furnishtheHemlock,ofwhichapound(thecommonDose) costizDrachms, I. e. 7,Livres and n d. See "Plutarch upon thedeathofvhocion,who wasobligedtopayhisExecutioner for a Dose of Poison.
talk
? ? Body.
Corporeal Things, and takes no pleasure in them (a) is not worthy to live h and that he who does
-r-iT^ i_T,s ,a Tn,tfl acknowledged by almost all the World, Thathewhodoe'snotenjoythePleasuresoftheBody is not worthy to live. . So that 'tisa true Saying. That a Phi losopher is worthy of nothing but death.
9*
Phedorj : Or, A Dialogue
talk of things within our own Company. Does Death appear to be any thing to you ?
Yes, without doubt ; replies Simmias.
Isitnot, continues Socrates, the Separation of SoulandBody-,sothattheBodyhasaseparateBe-
WW u *n8an^theSoulanother? 'De*th. Just so, lays Simmias.
Let's trythen, my dear Simmias, ifyour Thoughts andmineagree. BythatmeanswestallsettheOb
jectofourpresentEnquiryintoaclearerlight. Do ? philosopher*you think a philosopher courts what the World
NorthatofLove?
By no means. DoyouthinktheypursueormindtheotherPlea
suresrelatingtotheBody,suchasgood Cloths,hand- iome Shoes, and the other Ornaments of the Body >
Whether do you think they value or slight those things when necessity does not inforce their Use ?
In m y mind, replies Simmias, a true Philosopher must needs conternn them.
Then you believe, continues Socrates, that the BodyisnotatalltheObject ofthe Careand Bu siness of a Philosopher : But on the contrary, that his whole Business is to separate himself from it and mind only the concerns of his Soul.
Most certainly.
Ztsttx-Ph*- ,Thus>continuesSocrates,'tisplainuponthewhole tosopheri tnataPhilosopherlaboursinamoredistinguishing Businessis manner, thanother Men to purchase the Freedom ZrZ? ? alloi\h]? STM1? mdrcut off aI1 Commerce between it
between aTM theBody. IamlikewiseoftheOpinion,Simmias So>>iand thatmostMenwillgrant,thatwhoeveravoidsthose
not
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. pf
Hot use. the Pleasures of the Body is near to death.
You speakTruth, Socrates.
Butwhatshallwe sayof the acquiringofPru-i\KBodies
dence? IstheBodfeanObstacle or notjwhen em-beinga*ob- ploy'dinthatwork? I'llexplain my meaning hyfta"ej"t,K
an Example : Have Seeing and Hearing any thing * 2 f ofTruthinthem, andistheirTestimonyfaithful? -napr'0f OrarethePoetsintherightinsingingthatwe nei-ofthistruth ther lee nor hear things truly ? For if these two
Senses of Seeing and Hearing are not true and Zk ***r- trustyjtheother, which are much weaker, willbe***? >? fthe farlesssuch. Do notyou thinkso > enJ"'
. Yes, without doubt, repliesSimmias.
When doestheSoul then, continuesSocrates, find
outtheTruth? We feethatwhiletheBodyisjoin'dTheBodydc in the Enquiry, this Body plainly cheats and se-<*>>? >*the
duces it. w -
That's true,"faysSimmias.
Is it not by reasoning that the Soul embracesn* Sml Truths ? And does it not reason better than before, re4ms H*,
when'tisnotencumber'dbySeeingorHearing,Pain^yj b1' ofPleasure? When shutup withinit self, itbidstheBody,Jd
adieu totheBody, and entertainsas little Corresseparated pondencewithitasispossible? ,and pursuestb. tft-tm*? '
knowledge of things without touching them ? That's incomparablywellspoken.
Is it not especially upon this occasion that the'
Soul of a Philosopher despises and avoids the Body, and wantstobeby itself?
I think so.
What shallwe saythen, my dearSimmias, ofall the ObjectsoftheSoul? Forinstance,shallwe call Justice something or nothing ?
We mustcertjainlygiveittheTitleofSomething' Shall we not like wife call itGood and Fine ?
Ay, doubtless.
But did you ever fee these Objects with the Eyes of your Body ?
No, to be sure.
Or
? ? 94 Phedon : Or, A Dia
TheEssence OrwithanyotherSense? Didyouevertouch ofthings isany bf those thingsI now speak os, such as Magni-
iTZ'sTn tude, Health, Fortitude, and, in a Word, the Essence
si, but by of all other things ? Is the truth^f them discovers
tbl operati-by the Body ? Or is it not certain, that whoever enofthe pUtshimseifm a condition to examine them more So>>iaio>>e. narrowiVjan(jmce themtothebottom, willbet-
ter compass the end, and know more of them ? That's very true.
n,emorethe Now thesimplestandpurestway ofexamining So>>Lisdisthings, is to pursue every Particular by Thought engaged alone,withoutofferingtosupportourMeditation
fromthe ^yseeing,orbackingourReasoningsbyanyother
wdTer- CorporealSense? ,byemployingthenakedThought
dngareitswithoutanymixture, andsoendeavouring totrace Thoughts, thepureandgenuineEssenceofthingswithoutthe MinistryoftheEyesorEars? ,theSoulbeing, ifI
may so speak, entirely disengaged from the whole Mass of Body, which only cumbers the Soul, and crampsitinthequestofWisdomandTruth, asoften as it is admitted to the least Correspondence with it. If the Essence of things be ever known, must it not be in the manner above-mention'd ?
Right Socrates ; you have spoke incomparably well.
Is it not a necessary Consequence from this Prin- rr^eTftheciple, continues Socrates, that true Philosophers Thilofiphmshould have such Language among themselves. among This Life is a Road that's apt to mislead us and T h t t f f f i " / o u r R e a s ? n * n a ^ o u r E n q u i r e s ? , b e c a u s e w h i l e w e
ra'lfeihthenaveaBody, and whileour Soulisdrown'd inso Bodyinthemuch Corruption, we shallnever attaintheObject
search of of our Wishes, /'. e. Truth. The Body throws a Truth. thousand Obstacles and Crosses in our waybydeman-
dist7rbsLyding necessary Food : And then the Diseases that
withd;- ensuedoquitedisorderourEnquiry:Besides, itfills safes, butUs with Love, Desires, Fears and a thousand foolish
wr? V>>* Imaginations ; insomuch that there's nothing truer , ntmu and tnan t)iecommon Saying, ThattheBody willnever Sense*. conduitustoWisdom, What isitthatgivesrisetd
Waft
? ? of the Immortality os the Soul. 9 5
WarsandoccasionsSeditionandDuelling? Isitnot
the Body and its Desires? In effect, all Wars take, rifefromtheDesireofRiches, whichweareforc'd toheapupforthelakeofourBodie, inorderto supplyitswants,andserveitlikeSlaves. 'Tis thisTheSody thatcrampsourApplicationtoPhilosophy. Andcanmtc,>>*- the greatest of all our Evils is, that when it has w % m ta
givenussomerespite,andweareletuponMedita- ""' tion,itstealsinandinteruptsourMeditationallofThe*h *' asudden. Itcumbers,troublesand surprizesusintheca*fe? ? s u c h a m a n n e r t h a t it h i n d e r s u s t o d e s c r y t h e T r u t h s i *he d f
Now we made itout, that in order to trace theWbSd* Purity and Truth of any thing, we should lay aside
the Body, and only employ the Soul to examine the Objectswepursue. Sothatwecanneverarriveat theWisdomwecourt,tillafterdeath. Reasonis onourfide. Forifitisimpossibletoknow any-4*-*? #*-'i thingpurelywhileweareintheBody, oneoftwomentp<n- thingsmustbetrue:EithertheTruthisneverknown "? 'thf
oritisknownafterdeath,Voufeat thattimethe7%? Li Soulwillbelefttoit selfandfreed ofitsburden willknow andnotbefore. AndwhileweareinthisLife wetheTrttth canonlyapproachtotheTruth, inproportiontoourbettZA/T removing from the Body, and renouncing all Cor-'" '*' respondent withitthatisnotofmeer Necessity,and keepingourselvesclearfrom theContagionofits
Natural Corruption, and all its filth, tillGod him self comes to deliver us. Then indeed being freed from all bodily Folly, we shall converse in all pro bability with Men that enjoy the same Liberty-
and shall know within our selves the pure Essence
of things, which perhaps is nothing else but the
Truth. Buthewhoisnotpure,isnotallow'd toTruthhtu approachtoPurityitself. This, my dearSimmiask>>oWiedZe
as I take it, should be the Thought and Language ? fthe A * of true Philosophers. Are not you of the fame fnce of
mind? "
Most certainly, Socrates.
*""'&-
Then,
? ? j6
fchedoh : (C)r, A Dialogue
-Then,my dear Simmias,whoever (hallarrive where I am now going, has great reason to hope, that, he will there be poflessed of what we look for
herewith so much Care and Anxiety; so that the VoyageIamnowsentupon,fillsmewithasweet andagreeablehope. And,itwillhavethefameEf fect upon. all who are. perswaded thatthe Soul must be purged before it knows the Truth. N o w the
iheTurga-Purgation of the Soul, as we were layingbut just ti<m of the now^ js oniv jts separation from the Body , its ac-
fllwtcustomingitselftoretireandlockitselfup,-re- fromtix nouncingallCommercewithit. asmuch aspossible, Correston- andliyingbyitsself,whetherinthisor(a)theother dencemth World, without being chained to the Body.
theBody.
AM thtfstme, Socrates.
Well! whatwecallDeath,isnotJthatthedisen-. engagement and separation of the Body from the Soul?
Most certainly. . -. . /.
ArenotthetruePhilosopherstheonlyMen that seekafterthisDisengagement, and isnot that Se paration and Deliverance their whole Business?
So Ithink, Socrates.
Isitnotaridiculousfancy, that aMan thathas lived in the Expectation of Death, and during his whole life-time has been preparing to dye, upon his arrivalat thePoint ofdesir'd Death, mould think
. toretireandbeafraidofit? Would notthatbeave- * Thisisxvhatry scandalous Apostacy ? >
m^Tto prove.
How P10^ k beotherwise >
'Tis certain then, Simmias, that Death is so far from being terrible to true Philosophers, that 'tis
(a) The Obstaclesrais'dinthepursuitcfWisdom,inspir'd the true Philosophers with such nn aversion to the Body, that they pleas'd themselves with the fancy, that after death theysliouldberidofitforever. Theyknew nobetter; andthough they hadsomeIdeaoftheResurrection, yetthey wereabsolutelyignorantthattheBodywill-belikewisepur- i ged and glorified, that this corruptible Body would put on Incorruptibility, and the mortal Part be invested with Im mortality.
their.
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. * m
their whole business to die. Which may be easily infer'dthus. IftheyflightandcontemntheirBo dy, and passionately desire to enjoy their Soul by itself, is itnot a ridiculous way of belying them- ielves, to be afraid and troubledwhen that Minute c o m e s ? A n d is it n o t a p i e c e o f E x t r a v a g a n c e t o d e c l i n e g o i n g t o t h a t P l a c e , w h e r e t h o s e w h o g e t t o it, h o p e
to obtain the good things they have wish'd for all theirlifetime? Fortheydesir'dWisdom andaDe liverance from the Body, as being their Burden and the Object of their hatred and contempt. . Do not manyuponthelossoftheir*Mistrefles, Wivesor Children, willingly ,cut the Thread of Life , and conveythemselvesintotheotherWorld,meerly upon the hope of meeting there and cohabiting with the Personstheylove? Andshalla trueloverofWit dom, and one that firmly hopes to attain to the Per fection of itintheother World, shall he be startled by Death, and be unwilling to go to the Place that will furnish him with what his Soul loves ? Doubt less, m y dear Simmias, if he be a true Philosophers he'll go with a great deal of Pleasure j as being per- fwadedthatthere'snoplaceinthe Regions below, that cannot furnish h i m with that pure W i s d o m that he'sinquestof. Now ifthingsstandthus, WOuld it notbeapiece ofextravagance in such a'Man to
feardeath? ? . . . . . . .
",To besure,saysSimmias, itwould be sowithi
witness. .
. And consequently , continues Socrates, when a ^4anshrinksandretiresatthePointofdeath, 'tisa
certain Evidence that he loves' not Wisdom, but his
'? * The greatest part, though scarce cohvinc'd of the Im
mortality of the Soultis'd to kill themselves. upon the loss of what they lov'd, hoping to retrieveitin theotherWorld: And isitnotreasonablejhatthetrue,Philosophers,,whoare: fully convinced 'of that Truth, and fully perswaded that true Wifdorri istobeenjoy'd,intheinfernalWorldiisitnot
seasonablethatthoseMen shouldgiveDeatha welcome Re- kfrtfeif? T
G g owri
? ? f
? Pheddtt t Or, A Dialogue
*rhitime ownBody,orHonour,orRiches,orperhapsallthe common, jnree together.
% ? S m Z 'Tis fo' Socrates.
TeatbT' Then,Simmias,doesnotthatwecallfortitude Fortitude belonginapeculiarmanner toPhilosophers? And LdTempe- does not Temperance, or that ibrt of Wisdom that
raneeare consistsincontroulingourDesires,andlivingsoberly feculiarto an(jmodestly^ suitadmirably well with those who vhihWKn contemn their Bodies and live Philosophically >
That'scertain, Socrates.
Were you to inspect into the Fortitude and Tem. perance of other Men, you'd find 'em very ridicu- lous.
How so, Socrates? . Youknow,sayshe,allotherMenlookuponDeath as the greatest Affliction.
That's true, replies Simmias.
Thecourage When those you call Stout, suffer Death with anivaiore/some Courage, they do itonly for fear of some
tf:r*5\/ greater evil. despisedeath? _
isoftenthe ThatImustgrant.
effettosftar AndbyConsequence,allMen,batingthePhilo
sophers, are only stout and valiant through Fear. And isitnotridiculoustobelieveaMan tobe brave
and valiant, that,isonly influencedby Fearand Ti- merousness ?
Y o u a r e i n t h e r i g h t o f it, S o c r a t e s .
Men are
temperate sons ? 'Tis only Intemperance makes 'em such. thn'iMem-Though at firstview this may seem impossible, yet perance. <<tjSnomoretjiarlwhatdailyExperience(hewsto
be the result of that foolish and ridiculous Tempe rance. ForsuchPersonsdisclaimonePleasure,only forfearofbeingrobb'dof otherPleasures that they covet, and which have an Ascendant over them. They'll cry out to you as long as you will, that In temperance consists in being rul'd and over-aw'd by our Passions ; but at the lame time that they give you this fine Definition, 'tis only their Subjection to s o m e predominant Pleasures, that makes them discard
*?
Is not the Cafe the fame with your temperate Per-
others.
?