same as the other.
And from the senses, then, is derived the knowledge that all sensible
things aim at an idea of equality of which they fall short -- is not
that true?
Yes.
Then before we began to see or hear or perceive in any way, we must have
had a knowledge of absolute equality, or we could not have referred to
that the equals which are derived from the senses -- for to that they
all aspire, and of that they fall short?
That, Socrates, is certainly to be inferred from the previous statements.
And did we not see and hear and acquire our other senses as soon as we
were born?
Certainly.
Then we must have acquired the knowledge of the ideal equal at some time
previous to this?
Yes.
That is to say, before we were born, I suppose?
True.
And if we acquired this knowledge before we were born, and were born
having it, then we also knew before we were born and at the instant of
birth not only equal or the greater or the less, but all other ideas;
for we are not speaking only of equality absolute, but of beauty,
goodness, justice, holiness, and all which we stamp with the name of
essence in the dialectical process, when we ask and answer questions. Of
all this we may certainly affirm that we acquired the knowledge before
birth?
That is true.
But if, after having acquired, we have not forgotten that which we
acquired, then we must always have been born with knowledge, and shall
always continue to know as long as life lasts -- for knowing is the
acquiring and retaining knowledge and not forgetting. Is not forgetting,
Simmias, just the losing of knowledge?
Quite true, Socrates.
But if the knowledge which we acquired before birth was lost by us at
birth, and afterwards by the use of the senses we recovered that which
we previously knew, will not that which we call learning be a process of
recovering our knowledge, and may not this be rightly termed
recollection by us?
Very true.
For this is clear, that when we perceived something, either by the help
of sight or hearing, or some other sense, there was no difficulty in
receiving from this a conception of some other thing like or unlike
which had been forgotten and which was associated with this; and
therefore, as I was saying, one of two alternatives follows: either we
had this knowledge at birth, and continued to know through life; or,
after birth, those who are said to learn only remember, and learning is
recollection only.
Yes, that is quite true, Socrates.
And which alternative, Simmias, do you prefer? Had we the knowledge at
our birth, or did we remember afterwards the things which we knew
previously to our birth?
I cannot decide at the moment.
At any rate you can decide whether he who has knowledge ought or ought
not to be able to give a reason for what he knows.
Certainly, he ought.
But do you think that every man is able to give a reason about these
very matters of which we are speaking?
I wish that they could, Socrates, but I greatly fear that to-morrow at
this time there will be no one able to give a reason worth having.
Then you are not of opinion, Simmias, that all men know these things?
Certainly not.
Then they are in process of recollecting that which they learned before.
Certainly.
But when did our souls acquire this knowledge? -- not since we were born
as men?
Certainly not.
And therefore previously?
Yes.
Then, Simmias, our souls must have existed before they were in the form
of man -- without bodies, and must have had intelligence.
Unless indeed you suppose, Socrates, that these notions were given us at
the moment of birth; for this is the only time that remains.
Yes, my friend, but when did we lose them? for they are not in us when
we are born -- that is admitted. Did we lose them at the moment of
receiving them, or at some other time?
No, Socrates, I perceive that I was unconsciously talking nonsense.
Then may we not say, Simmias, that if, as we are always repeating, there
is an absolute beauty, and goodness, and essence in general, and to
this, which is now discovered to be a previous condition of our being,
we refer all our sensations, and with this compare them -- assuming this
to have a prior existence, then our souls must have had a prior
existence, but if not, there would be no force in the argument? There
can be no doubt that if these absolute ideas existed before we were
born, then our souls must have existed before we were born, and if not
the ideas, then not the souls.
Yes, Socrates; I am convinced that there is precisely the same necessity
for the existence of the soul before birth, and of the essence of which
you are speaking: and the argument arrives at a result which happily
agrees with my own notion. For there is nothing which to my mind is so
evident as that beauty, goodness, and other notions of which you were
just now speaking have a most real and absolute existence; and I am
satisfied with the proof.
Well, but is Cebes equally satisfied? for I must convince him too.
I think, said Simmias, that Cebes is satisfied: although he is the most
incredulous of mortals, yet I believe that he is convinced of the
existence of the soul before birth. But that after death the soul will
continue to exist is not yet proven even to my own satisfaction. I
cannot get rid of the feeling of the many to which Cebes was referring
-- the feeling that when the man dies the soul may be scattered, and
that this may be the end of her. For admitting that she may be generated
and created in some other place, and may have existed before entering
the human body, why after having entered in and gone out again may she
not herself be destroyed and come to an end?
Very true, Simmias, said Cebes; that our soul existed before we were
born was the first half of the argument, and this appears to have been
proven; that the soul will exist after death as well as before birth is
the other half of which the proof is still wanting, and has to be
supplied.
But that proof, Simmias and Cebes, has been already given, said
Socrates, if you put the two arguments together -- I mean this and the
former one, in which we admitted that everything living is born of the
dead. For if the soul existed before birth, and in coming to life and
being born can be born only from death and dying, must she not after
death continue to exist, since she has to be born again? surely the
proof which you desire has been already furnished. Still I suspect that
you and Simmias would be glad to probe the argument further; like
children, you are haunted with a fear that when the soul leaves the
body, the wind may really blow her away and scatter her; especially if a
man should happen to die in stormy weather and not when the sky is calm.
Cebes answered with a smile: Then, Socrates, you must argue us out of
our fears -- and yet, strictly speaking, they are not our fears, but
there is a child within us to whom death is a sort of hobgoblin; him too
we must persuade not to be afraid when he is alone with him in the dark.
Socrates said: Let the voice of the charmer be applied daily until you
have charmed him away.
And where shall we find a good charmer of our fears, Socrates, when you
are gone?
Hellas, he replied, is a large place, Cebes, and has many good men, and
there are barbarous races not a few: seek for him among them all, far
and wide, sparing neither pains nor money; for there is no better way of
using your money. And you must not forget to seek for him among
yourselves too; for he is nowhere more likely to be found.
The search, replied Cebes, shall certainly be made. And now, if you
please, let us return to the point of the argument at which we
digressed.
By all means, replied Socrates; what else should I please?
Very good, he said.
Must we not, said Socrates, ask ourselves some question of this sort? --
What is that which, as we imagine, is liable to be scattered away, and
about which we fear? and what again is that about which we have no fear?
And then we may proceed to inquire whether that which suffers dispersion
is or is not of the nature of soul -- our hopes and fears as to our own
souls will turn upon that.
That is true, he said.
Now the compound or composite may be supposed to be naturally capable of
being dissolved in like manner as of being compounded; but that which is
uncompounded, and that only, must be, if anything is, indissoluble.
Yes; that is what I should imagine, said Cebes.
And the uncompounded may be assumed to be the same and unchanging, where
the compound is always changing and never the same?
That I also think, he said.
Then now let us return to the previous discussion. Is that idea or
essence, which in the dialectical process we define as essence of true
existence -- whether essence of equality, beauty, or anything else: are
these essences, I say, liable at times to some degree of change? or are
they each of them always what they are, having the same simple,
self-existent and unchanging forms, and not admitting of variation at
all, or in any way, or at any time?
They must be always the same, Socrates, replied Cebes.
And what would you say of the many beautiful -- whether men or horses or
garments or any other things which may be called equal or beautiful --
are they all unchanging and the same always, or quite the reverse? May
they not rather be described as almost always changing and hardly ever
the same either with themselves or with one another?
The latter, replied Cebes; they are always in a state of change.
And these you can touch and see and perceive with the senses, but the
unchanging things you can only perceive with the mind -- they are
invisible and are not seen?
That is very true, he said.
Well, then, he added, let us suppose that there are two sorts of
existences, one seen, the other unseen.
Let us suppose them.
The seen is the changing, and the unseen is the unchanging.
That may be also supposed.
And, further, is not one part of us body, and the rest of us soul?
To be sure.
And to which class may we say that the body is more alike and akin?
Clearly to the seen: no one can doubt that.
And is the soul seen or not seen?
Not by man, Socrates.
And by "seen" and "not seen" is meant by us that which is or is not
visible to the eye of man?
Yes, to the eye of man.
And what do we say of the soul? is that seen or not seen?
Not seen.
Unseen then?
Yes.
Then the soul is more like to the unseen, and the body to the seen?
That is most certain, Socrates.
And were we not saying long ago that the soul when using the body as an
instrument of perception, that is to say, when using the sense of sight
or hearing or some other sense (for the meaning of perceiving through
the body is perceiving through the senses) -- were we not saying that
the soul too is then dragged by the body into the region of the
changeable, and wanders and is confused; the world spins round her, and
she is like a drunkard when under their influence?
Very true.
But when returning into herself she reflects; then she passes into the
realm of purity, and eternity, and immortality, and unchangeableness,
which are her kindred, and with them she ever lives, when she is by
herself and is not let or hindered; then she ceases from her erring
ways, and being in communion with the unchanging is unchanging. And this
state of the soul is called wisdom?
That is well and truly said, Socrates, he replied.
And to which class is the soul more nearly alike and akin, as far as may
be inferred from this argument, as well as from the preceding one?
I think, Socrates, that, in the opinion of everyone who follows the
argument, the soul will be infinitely more like the unchangeable even
the most stupid person will not deny that.
And the body is more like the changing?
Yes.
Yet once more consider the matter in this light: When the soul and the
body are united, then nature orders the soul to rule and govern, and the
body to obey and serve.
Now which of these two functions is akin to the divine? and which to the
mortal? Does not the divine appear to you to be that which naturally
orders and rules, and the mortal that which is subject and servant?
True.
And which does the soul resemble?
The soul resembles the divine and the body the mortal -- there can be no
doubt of that, Socrates.
Then reflect, Cebes: is not the conclusion of the whole matter this? --
that the soul is in the very likeness of the divine, and immortal, and
intelligible, and uniform, and indissoluble, and unchangeable; and the
body is in the very likeness of the human, and mortal, and
unintelligible, and multiform, and dissoluble, and changeable. Can this,
my dear Cebes, be denied?
No, indeed.
But if this is true, then is not the body liable to speedy dissolution?
and is not the soul almost or altogether indissoluble?
Certainly.
And do you further observe, that after a man is dead, the body, which is
the visible part of man, and has a visible framework, which is called a
corpse, and which would naturally be dissolved and decomposed and
dissipated, is not dissolved or decomposed at once, but may remain for a
good while, if the constitution be sound at the time of death, and the
season of the year favorable? For the body when shrunk and embalmed, as
is the custom in Egypt, may remain almost entire through infinite ages;
and even in decay, still there are some portions, such as the bones and
ligaments, which are practically indestructible. You allow that?
Yes.
And are we to suppose that the soul, which is invisible, in passing to
the true Hades, which like her is invisible, and pure, and noble, and on
her way to the good and wise God, whither, if God will, my soul is also
soon to go -- that the soul, I repeat, if this be her nature and origin,
is blown away and perishes immediately on quitting the body as the many
say? That can never be, dear Simmias and Cebes. The truth rather is that
the soul which is pure at departing draws after her no bodily taint,
having never voluntarily had connection with the body, which she is ever