'Emphatically, Socrates.'
'Well then, if that's true, my friend,' said Socrates, 'there's plenty of hope for one who arrives where I'm going, that there, if anywhere, he will adequately possess the object that's been our 10 great concern in life gone by; and thus the journey now appointed c for me may also be made with good hope by any other man who regards his intellect as prepared, by having been, in a manner, purified.'
'Yes indeed,' said Simmias. 5 'Then doesn't purification turn out to be just what's been mentioned for some while in our discussion11—the parting of the soul from the body as far as possible, and the habituating of it to assemble and gather itself together, away from every part of the body, alone by itself, and to live, so far as it can, both in the present d and in the hereafter, released from the body, as from fetters?'
'Yes indeed.'
'And is it just this that is named "death"—a release and parting 5 of soul from body?'
'Indeed it is.'
'And it's especially those who practise philosophy aright, or rather they alone, who are always eager to release it, as we say, and the occupation of philosophers is just this, isn't it—a release and 10 parting of soul from body?'
'It seems so.'
'Then wouldn't it be absurd, as I said at the start, for a man to prepare himself in his life to live as close as he can to being dead, e and then to be resentful when this comes to him?'
'It would be absurd, of course,'
'Truly then, Simmias, those who practise philosophy aright are cultivating dying, and for them least of all men does being dead hold 5 any terror. Look at it like this: if they've set themselves at odds with the body at every point, and desire to possess their soul alone by itself, wouldn't it be quite illogical if they were afraid and resentful when this came about-if, that is, they didn't go gladly to the place 68 where, on arrival, they may hope to attain what they longed for throughout life, namely wisdom—and to be rid of the company of that with which they'd set themselves at odds? Or again, many have been willing to enter Hades of their own accord, in quest of human 5 loves, of wives and sons12 who have died, led by this hope, that there they would see and be united with those they desired; will anyone, then, who truly longs for wisdom, and who firmly holds this same hope, that nowhere but in Hades will he attain it in any way worth b mentioning, be resentful at dying; and will he not go there gladly? One must suppose so, my friend, if he's truly a lover of wisdom; since this will be his firm belief, that nowhere else but there will he attain wisdom purely. Yet if that is so, wouldn't it, as I said just now, 5 be quite illogical if such a man were afraid of death?'
'Yes, quite illogical!'
'Then if you see a man resentful that he is going to die, isn't this proof enough for you that he's no lover of wisdom after all, but c what we may call a lover of the body? And this same man turns out, in some sense, to be a lover of riches and of prestige, either one of these or both.'
'It's just as you say.'
'Well now, Simmias, isn't it also true that what is named "bravery" 5 belongs especially to people of the disposition we have described?'
'Most certainly.'
'And then temperance too, even what most people name "temperance"—not being excited over one's desires, but being scornful of them and well-ordered—belongs, doesn't it, only to those who 10 utterly scorn the body and live in love of wisdom?'
'It must.' d
'Yes, because if you care to consider the bravery and temperance of other men, you'll find it strange.'
'How so, Socrates?' 5 'You know, don't you, that all other men count death among great evils?'
'Very much so.'
'Is it, then, through being afraid of greater evils that the brave among them abide death, whenever they do so?' 10 'It is.'
'Then, it's through fearing and fear that all men except philosophers are brave; and yet it's surely illogical that anyone should be brave through fear and cowardice.' e 'It certainly is.'
'And what about those of them who are well-ordered? Aren't they in this same state, temperate through a kind of intemperance? True, we say that's impossible; but still that state of simple-minded 5 temperance does turn out in their case to be like this: it's because they're afraid of being deprived of further pleasures, and desire them, that they abstain from some because they're overcome by 69 others. True, they call it "intemperance" to be ruled by pleasures, but still that's what happens to them: they overcome some pleasures because they're overcome by others. And this is the sort of thing that was just mentioned: after a fashion, they achieve temperance because of intemperance.' 5 'Yes, so it seems.'
'Yes, Simmias, my good friend;13 since this may not be the right exchange with a view to goodness, the exchanging of pleasures for pleasures, pains for pains, and fear for fear, greater for lesser ones, 10 like coins; it may be, rather, that this alone is the right coin, for b which one should exchange all these things—wisdom; and the buying and selling of all things for that, or rather with that, may be real bravery, temperance, justice, and, in short, true goodness in company with wisdom, whether pleasures and fears and all else of that 5 sort be added or taken away; but as for their being parted from wisdom and exchanged for one another, goodness of that sort may be a kind of illusory facade, and fit for slaves indeed, and may have nothing healthy or true about it; whereas, truth to tell, temperance,
justice, and bravery may in fact be a kind of purification of all such c things, and wisdom itself a kind of purifying rite. So it really looks as if those who established our initiations are no mean people, but have in fact long been saying in riddles that whoever arrives in Hades 5 unadmitted to the rites, and uninitiated, shall lie in the slough, while he who arrives there purified and initiated shall dwell with gods. For truly there are, so say those concerned with the initiations, "many who bear the wand, but few who are devotees". Now these latter, in my d view, are none other than those who have practised philosophy aright. And it's to be among them that I myself have striven, in every way I could, neglecting nothing during my life within my power. Whether I have striven aright and we have achieved anything, 5 we shall, I think, know for certain, God willing, in a little while, on arrival yonder.
'There's my defence, then, Simmias and Cebes, to show how reasonable it is for me not to take it hard or be resentful at leaving e you and my masters here, since I believe that there also, no less than here, I shall find good masters and companions; so if I'm any more convincing in my defence to you than to the Athenian jury, it would be well.' 5
When Socrates had said this, Cebes rejoined: 'The other things you say, Socrates, I find excellent; but what you say about the soul is the subject of much disbelief: men fear that when it's been separ- 70 ated from the body, it may no longer exist anywhere, but that on the very day a man dies, it may be destroyed and perish, as soon as it's separated from the body; and that as it goes out, it may be dispersed like breath or smoke, go flying off, and exist no longer any- 5 where at all. True, if it did exist somewhere, gathered together alone by itself, and separated from those evils you were recounting just now, there'd be plenty of hope, Socrates, and a fine hope it would be, that what you say is true; but on just this point, perhaps, one b needs no little reassuring and convincing, that when the man has died, his soul exists, and that it possesses some power and wisdom.'14
'That's true, Cebes,' said Socrates; 'but then what are we to do? 5 Would you like us to speculate15 on these very questions, and see whether this is likely to be the case or not?'
'For my part anyway,' said Cebes, 'I'd gladly hear whatever opinion you have about them.' 10 'Well,' said Socrates, 'I really don't think anyone listening now, c even if he were a comic poet, would say that I'm talking idly, and arguing about things that don't concern me. If you agree, then, we should look into the matter.