The Last Days of Socrates

by Plato

  ‘Shall we try, if we can, to specify what sort of things these are?’

  ‘By all means.’

  (d) ‘Well, then, Cebes, would this describe them – that they are things which compel whatever they get a hold on to assume not only their own Idea, but invariably also some other Idea which is an opposite?’167

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just what we were saying a minute ago. You realize, I suppose, that when the Idea of Three gets a hold on any group of objects, it compels them to be odd as well as three.’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘Then I maintain that into such a group the opposite Idea to the character168 which has this effect can never enter.’

  ‘No, it cannot.’

  ‘And it was the Form of Odd that had this effect?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And the opposite of this is the Form of Even?’

  ‘Yes.’

  (e) ‘So the Form of Even will never enter into three.’

  ‘No, never.’

  ‘In other words, three is incompatible with evenness.’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘So the number three is uneven.’

  ‘Yes.’

  I proposed just now to describe what sort of things they are which, although they are not themselves directly opposed to a given opposite, nevertheless do not admit it; as in the present example, three, although not the opposite of even, nevertheless does not admit it, because three is always accompanied by the opposite of even; and similarly with two and odd, or fire and cold, and hosts of others. Well, see whether 105(a) you accept this definition: Not only does an opposite not admit its opposite, but if anything is accompanied by a Form which has an opposite, and meets that opposite, then the thing which is accompanied never admits the opposite of the Form by which it is accompanied. Let me refresh your memory; there is no harm in hearing a thing several times. Five will not admit the Form of Even, nor will ten, which is double five, admit the Form of Odd. Twin has an opposite of its own, but at the same time it will not admit the Form of (b) Odd. Nor will one and a half, or other fractions such as a half or three-quarters and so on, admit the form of Whole, assuming that you follow me and agree.’

  ‘I follow and agree perfectly,’ said Cebes.

  ‘Then run over the same ground with me from the beginning; and don’t answer in the exact terms of the question, but follow my example. I say this because besides the “safe answer” that I described at first, as the result of this discussion I now see another means of safety. Suppose, for instance, that you ask me what must become present in a body to make it hot, I shall not return the safe but simplistic answer that it is (c) heat, but a more sophisticated one, based on the results of our discussion – namely that it is fire. And if you ask what must become present in a body to make it diseased, I shall say not disease but fever. Similarly if you ask what must become present in a number to make it odd, I shall say not oddness but unity; and so on. See whether you have a sufficient grasp now of what I want from you.’

  ‘Quite sufficient.’

  Socrates argues that the soul is such a thing which always brings a quality to that which it occupies, and cannot itself be coupled with the opposite quality. It must retire or perish.

  ‘Then tell me, what must be present in a body to make it alive?’

  ‘Soul.’

  ‘Is this always so?’ (d)

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So whenever soul takes possession of a body, it always brings living with it?’

  ‘Yes, it does.’

  ‘Is there an opposite to living, or not?’

  ‘Yes, there is.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Dying.’

  ‘Does it follow, then, from our earlier agreement, that soul will never admit the opposite of that which accompanies it?’

  ‘Most definitely,’ said Cebes.

  ‘Well, now, what name did we apply just now to that which does not admit the Form of Even?’

  ‘Uneven.’

  ‘And what do we call that which does not admit justice, or culture?’

  (e) ‘Uncultured; and the other unjust.’

  ‘Very good. And what do we call that which does not admit dying?’

  ‘Un-dying.’169

  ‘And soul does not admit death?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So soul is un-dying.’

  ‘Yes, it is un-dying.’

  ‘Well,’ said Socrates, ‘can we say that that has been proved? What do you think?’

  ‘Most completely, Socrates.’

  The argument is concluded. What is ‘un-dying’ cannot surely perish; therefore it must withdraw.

  ‘Here is another question for you, Cebes. If the uneven were 106(a) necessarily imperishable, would not three be imperishable?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then again, if what is un-hot were necessarily imperishable, when you applied heat to snow, would not the snow withdraw still intact and unmelted? It could not cease to exist, nor on the other hand could it remain where it was and admit the heat.’

  ‘That is true.’

  ‘In the same way I assume that if what is un-cold were imperishable, when anything cold approached fire, it could never go out or cease to exist; it would depart and be gone unharmed.’

  ‘That must be so.’

  ‘Are we not bound to say the same of the un-dying? If what (b) is un-dying is also imperishable, it is impossible that at the approach of death soul should cease to be. It follows from what we have already said that it cannot admit death, or be dead; just as we said that three cannot be even, nor can odd; nor can fire be cold, nor can the heat which is in the fire. “But,” it may be objected, “granting (as has been agreed) that odd does not become even at the approach of even, (c) why should it not cease to exist, and something even take its place?” In reply to this we could not insist that the odd does not cease to exist – because what is un-even is not imperishable; but if this were conceded, we could easily insist that, at the approach of even, odd and three retire and depart. And we could be equally insistent about fire and heat and all the rest of them, could we not?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘So now in the case of the un-dying, if it is conceded that this is also imperishable, soul will be imperishable as well as un-dying. Otherwise we shall need another argument.’ (d)

  ‘There is no need on that account,’ said Cebes. ‘If what is undying and eternal cannot avoid destruction, it is hard to see how anything else can.’

  ‘And I imagine that it would be admitted by everyone,’ said Socrates, ‘that God at any rate, and the Form of Life, and anything else that is un-dying, can never cease to exist.’

  ‘Yes indeed; by all men certainly, and even more, I suppose, by the gods.’

  (e) ‘Then since what is un-dying is also indestructible, if soul is really un-dying, surely it must be imperishable too.’

  ‘Quite inevitably.’

  ‘So it appears that when death comes to a man, the mortal part of him dies, but the un-dying part retires at the approach of death and escapes unharmed and indestructible.’

  ‘Evidently.’

  ‘Then it is as certain as anything can be, Cebes, that soul is undying and imperishable, and that our souls will really exist in the next world.’

  ‘Well, Socrates,’ said Cebes, ‘for my part I have no 107(a) criticisms, and no doubt about the truth of your argument. But if Simmias here or anyone else has any criticism to make, he had better not keep it to himself; because if anyone wants to say or hear any more about this subject, I don’t see to what other occasion he is to defer it.’

  Socrates gives his view of the nature of the universe and of the soul’s fate after death. The material is myth-like, and comparable with ‘myths’ of the after-life with which the Gorgias and Republic conclude. It makes no profession of ascertainable literal truth. It has clearly been composed specifically for the Phaedo, in such a way as to reflect the gulf between the hazy world
of sensation and the clear world of the intellect that the rest of the work has already pointed to. It also suggests an enormous gap between the painful or at least unattractive environment which awaits the common man after death and the bright visions of a higher world which await the philosopher. It therefore performs a protreptic purpose, encouraging Socrates’ followers to go on with their mission after his death so that they may look forward to the day when they may follow him.

  ‘As a matter of fact,’ said Simmias, ‘I have no doubts myself either now, in view of what you have just been saying. All the (b) same, the subject is so vast, and I have such a poor opinion of our weak human nature, that I can’t help still feeling some misgivings.’

  ‘Quite right, Simmias,’ said Socrates, ‘and what is more, even if you find our original assumptions convincing, they still need more accurate consideration. If you and your friends examine them closely enough, I believe that you will arrive at the truth of the matter, in so far as it is possible for the human mind to attain it; and if you are sure that you have done this, you will not need to inquire further.’

  ‘That is true,’ said Simmias.

  ‘But there is a further point, gentlemen,’ said Socrates, (c) ‘which deserves your attention. If the soul is immortal, it demands our care not only for that part of time which we call life, but for all time; and indeed it would seem now that it will be extremely dangerous to neglect it. If death were a release from everything, it would be a boon for the wicked, because by dying they would be released not only from the body but also from their own wickedness together with the soul; but as it is, since the soul has emerged as something immortal, it can have no escape or security from evil except by becoming as good and wise as it possibly can. For it takes (d) nothing with it to the next world except its education and training; and these, we are told,170 are of supreme importance in helping or harming those who have died at the very beginning of their journey to the other world.

  (e) ‘This is how the story goes. When any man dies, his own guardian spirit, which was given charge over him in his life, tries to bring him to a certain place where all must assemble, and from which, when they have been sorted out by a process of judgement, they must set out for the next world, under the guidance of one who has the office of escorting souls from this world to the other.171 When they have there undergone the necessary experiences and remained as long as is required, another guide brings them back again after many vast periods of time.

  ‘Of course this journey is not as Aeschylus makes Telephus describe it. He says that the path to Hades is straightforward, 108(a) but it seems clear to me that it is neither straightforward nor single. If it were, there would be no need for a guide, because surely nobody could lose his way anywhere if there were only one road. In fact, it seems likely that it contains many forks and crossroads, to judge from the ceremonies and observances of this world.172

  ‘Well, the wise and disciplined soul follows its guide and is not ignorant of its surroundings; but as for the soul which is deeply attached to the body – after a long infatuation with it (b) and with the visible world, as I said before – it is only after much resistance and suffering that it is at last forcibly led away by its appointed guardian spirit. And when it reaches the same place as the rest, the soul which is impure through having done some impure deed, either by setting its hand to lawless bloodshed or by committing other kindred crimes which are the work of kindred souls, this soul is shunned and (c) avoided by all; none will company with it or guide it; and it wanders alone in utter desolation until certain times have passed, whereupon it is borne away of necessity to its proper habitation. But every soul that has lived throughout its life in purity and soberness enjoys divine company and guidance, and each inhabits the place which is proper to it. There are many wonderful regions in the earth; and the earth itself is neither of the kind nor of the size that the experts suppose it to be; or so I’m led to believe.’173

  (d) ‘How can you say that, Socrates?’ said Simmias. ‘I myself have heard a great many theories about the earth, but not this belief of yours. I should very much like to hear it.’

  ‘Why, really, Simmias, I don’t think that it calls for the skill of a Glaucus174 to explain what my belief is; but to prove that it is true seems to me to be too difficult even for a Glaucus. In the first place I should probably be unable to do it; and in the second, even if I knew how, it seems to me, Simmias, that my life is too short for an explanation of the required length. (e)However, there is no reason why I should not tell you what I believe about the appearance of the earth and the regions in it.’

  ‘Well,’ said Simmias, ‘even that will do.’

  ‘This is what I believe, then,’ said Socrates. ‘In the first place, if the earth is spherical and in the middle of the heavens, 109(a) it needs neither air nor any other such force to keep it from falling; the uniformity of the heavens and the equilibrium of the earth itself are sufficient to support it.175 Any body in equilibrium, if it is set in the middle of a uniform medium, will have no tendency to sink or rise in any direction more than another, and having equal impulses will remain suspended. This is the first article of my belief.’

  ‘And quite right too,’ said Simmias.

  ‘Next,’ said Socrates, ‘I believe that it is vast in size, and (b) that we who dwell between the river Phasis176 and the pillars of Hercules177 inhabit only a minute portion of it; we live round the sea like ants or frogs round a swamp; and there are many other peoples inhabiting similar regions. There are many hollow places all round the earth, places of every shape and size, into which the water and mist and air have collected. But the earth’s true surface is as pure as the starry heaven in which it lies, and which is called ‘ether’ by most of our (c) authorities. The water, mist and air are the dregs of this ether, and they are continually draining into the hollow places in the earth. We do not realize that we are living in its hollows, but assume that we are living up on top of the earth. Imagine someone living in the depths of the sea. He might think that he was living on the surface, and seeing the sun and the other heavenly bodies through the water, he might think that the sea was the sky. He might be so sluggish and feeble that he (d) had never reached the top of the sea, never emerged and raised his head from the sea into this world of ours, and seen for himself – or even heard from someone who had seen it – how much purer and more beautiful it really is than the one in which his people live. Now we are in just the same position. Although we live in a hollow of the earth, we assume that we are living on the surface, and we call the air heaven, as though this were the heaven through which the stars move. (e) But the truth of the matter is the same, that we are too feeble and sluggish to make our way out to the upper limit of the air. If someone could reach to the summit, or grow wings and fly aloft, when he put up his head he would see the world above, just as fishes see our world when they put up their heads out of the sea; and if his nature were strong enough to keep looking,178 he would recognize that that is the true heaven and the true light and the true earth. For this earth and its 110(a) stones and all the regions in which we live are marred and corroded, just as in the sea everything is corroded by the brine, and there is nothing worth mentioning that grows there,179 and scarcely any degree of perfect formation, but only eroded rocks and sand and measureless mud, and messy swamps wherever there is earth as well; and nothing is in the least worthy to be judged beautiful by our standards. But the things above excel those of our world to a degree far greater (b) still. If this is the right moment for a story,180 Simmias, it will be worth your while to hear what it is really like upon the earth which lies beneath the heavens.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, Socrates,’ said Simmias, ‘it would be a great pleasure to us, at any rate, to hear this tale.’

  ‘Well, my friend,’ said Socrates, ‘the earth’s true surface, viewed from above, is supposed to look like one of those balls made of twelve pieces of skin,181 variegated and marked out in different colours, of which the colours we know
– the ones (c) which artists use – can give only a hint; but there the whole earth is made up of such colours, and others far brighter and purer still. One section is a marvellously beautiful purple, and another is golden; all that is white of it is whiter than chalk or snow; and the rest is similarly made up of the other colours, still more and lovelier than those which we have seen. Even (d) these very hollows in the earth, full of water and air, assume a kind of colour as they give off reflections amid the different hues around them, so that there appears to be one continuous patchwork of colours. The trees and flowers and fruits which grow upon this beauteous earth are proportionately beautiful. The mountains too and the stones have a matching degree of smoothness and transparency and their colours are lovelier. (e) The pebbles which are so highly prized in our world – the jaspers and rubies and emeralds and the rest – are fragments of these stones; but there everything is as beautiful as they are, or finer still. This is because the stones there are in their natural state, not damaged by decay and corroded by salt water as ours are by the sediment which has collected here, and which causes disfigurement or disease to stones and earth, and likewise to animals and plants. The earth’s true surface is adorned not only with all these stones but also with gold 111(a) and silver and the other metals, for many rich veins of them occur in plain view in all parts of the earth, so that to see them is a sight for the eyes of the blessed.

  ‘There are many kinds of animals upon it, and also human beings, some of whom live inland, others round the air, as we live round the sea,182 and others in islands surrounded by air but close to the mainland. In a word, as water and the sea are to us for our purposes, so is air to them; and as air is to us, so (b) the ether is to them. Their climate is so temperate that they are free from disease and live much longer than people do here; and in sight and hearing and understanding and all other faculties they are as far superior to us as air is to water or ether to air in clarity.

  ‘They also have sanctuaries and temples which are truly inhabited by gods; and oracles and prophecies and visions and all other kinds of communion with the gods occur there face to face.183 They see the sun and moon and stars as they (c) really are;184 and the rest of their happiness matches this too.