from probabilities are impostors, and unless great caution is observed
in the use of them they are apt to be deceptive -- in geometry, and in
other things too. But the doctrine of knowledge and recollection has
been proven to me on trustworthy grounds; and the proof was that the
soul must have existed before she came into the body, because to her
belongs the essence of which the very name implies existence. Having, as
I am convinced, rightly accepted this conclusion, and on sufficient
grounds, I must, as I suppose, cease to argue or allow others to argue
that the soul is a harmony.
Let me put the matter, Simmias, he said, in another point of view: Do
you imagine that a harmony or any other composition can be in a state
other than that of the elements out of which it is compounded?
Certainly not.
Or do or suffer anything other than they do or suffer?
He agreed.
Then a harmony does not lead the parts or elements which make up the
harmony, but only follows them.
He assented.
For harmony cannot possibly have any motion, or sound, or other quality
which is opposed to the parts.
That would be impossible, he replied.
And does not every harmony depend upon the manner in which the elements
are harmonized?
I do not understand you, he said.
I mean to say that a harmony admits of degrees, and is more of a
harmony, and more completely a harmony, when more completely harmonized,
if that be possible; and less of a harmony, and less completely a
harmony, when less harmonized.
True.
But does the soul admit of degrees? or is one soul in the very least
degree more or less, or more or less completely, a soul than another?
Not in the least.
Yet surely one soul is said to have intelligence and virtue, and to be
good, and another soul is said to have folly and vice, and to be an evil
soul: and this is said truly?
Yes, truly.
But what will those who maintain the soul to be a harmony say of this
presence of virtue and vice in the soul? -- Will they say that there is
another harmony, and another discord, and that the virtuous soul is
harmonized, and herself being a harmony has another harmony within her,
and that the vicious soul is inharmonical and has no harmony within her?
I cannot say, replied Simmias; but I suppose that something of that kind
would be asserted by those who take this view.
And the admission is already made that no soul is more a soul than
another; and this is equivalent to admitting that harmony is not more or
less harmony, or more or less completely a harmony?
Quite true.
And that which is not more or less a harmony is not more or less
harmonized?
True.
And that which is not more or less harmonized cannot have more or less
of harmony, but only an equal harmony?
Yes, an equal harmony.
Then one soul not being more or less absolutely a soul than another, is
not more or less harmonized?
Exactly.
And therefore has neither more nor less of harmony or of discord?
She has not.
And having neither more nor less of harmony or of discord, one soul has
no more vice or virtue than another, if vice be discord and virtue
harmony?
Not at all more.
Or speaking more correctly, Simmias, the soul, if she is a harmony, will
never have any vice; because a harmony, being absolutely a harmony, has
no part in the inharmonical?
No.
And therefore a soul which is absolutely a soul has no vice?
How can she have, consistently with the preceding argument?
Then, according to this, if the souls of all animals are equally and
absolutely souls, they will be equally good?
I agree with you, Socrates, he said.
And can all this be true, think you? he said; and are all these
consequences admissible -- which nevertheless seem to follow from the
assumption that the soul is a harmony?
Certainly not, he said.
Once more, he said, what ruling principle is there of human things other
than the soul, and especially the wise soul? Do you know of any?
Indeed, I do not.
And is the soul in agreement with the affections of the body? or is she
at variance with them? For example, when the body is hot and thirsty,
does not the soul incline us against drinking? and when the body is
hungry, against eating? And this is only one instance out of ten
thousand of the opposition of the soul to the things of the body.
Very true.
But we have already acknowledged that the soul, being a harmony, can
never utter a note at variance with the tensions and relaxations and
vibrations and other affections of the strings out of which she is
composed; she can only follow, she cannot lead them?
Yes, he said, we acknowledged that, certainly.
And yet do we not now discover the soul to be doing the exact opposite
-- leading the elements of which she is believed to be composed; almost
always opposing and coercing them in all sorts of ways throughout life,
sometimes more violently with the pains of medicine and gymnastic; then
again more gently; threatening and also reprimanding the desires,
passions, fears, as if talking to a thing which is not herself, as Homer
in the "Odyssey" represents Odysseus doing in the words,
"He beat his breast, and thus reproached his heart:
Endure, my heart; far worse hast thou endured!" Do you think that Homer
could have written this under the idea that the soul is a harmony
capable of being led by the affections of the body, and not rather of a
nature which leads and masters them; and herself a far diviner thing
than any harmony?
Yes, Socrates, I quite agree to that.
Then, my friend, we can never be right in saying that the soul is a
harmony, for that would clearly contradict the divine Homer as well as
ourselves.
True, he said.
Thus much, said Socrates, of Harmonia, your Theban goddess, Cebes, who
has not been ungracious to us, I think; but what shall I say to the
Theban Cadmus, and how shall I propitiate him?
I think that you will discover a way of propitiating him, said Cebes; I
am sure that you have answered the argument about harmony in a manner
that I could never have expected. For when Simmias mentioned his
objection, I quite imagined that no answer could be given to him, and
therefore I was surprised at finding that his argument could not sustain
the first onset of yours; and not impossibly the other, whom you call
Cadmus, may share a similar fate.
Nay, my good friend, said Socrates, let us not boast, lest some evil eye
should put to flight the word which I am about to speak. That, however,
may be left in the hands of those above, while I draw near in Homeric
fashion, and try the mettle of your words. Briefly, the sum of your
objection is as follows: You want to have proven to you that the soul is
imperishable and immortal, and you think that the philosopher who is
confident in death has but a vain and foolish confidence, if he thinks
that he will fare better than one who has led another sort of life, in
the world below, unless he can prove this; and you say that the
demonstration of the strength and divinity of the soul, and of her
existence prior to our becoming men, does not necessarily imply her
immortality. Granting that the soul is longlived, and has known and done
much in a former state, still she is not on that account immortal; and
her entrance into the human form may be a sort of disease which is the
beginning of dissolution, and may at last, after the toils of life are
over, end in that which is called death. And whether the soul enters
into the body once only or many times, that, as you would say, makes no
difference in the fears of individuals. For any man, who is not devoid
of natural feeling, has reason to fear, if he has no knowledge or proof
of the soul's immortality. That is what I suppose you to say, Cebes,
which I designedly repeat, in order that nothing may escape us, and that
you may, if you wish, add or subtract anything.
But, said Cebes, as far as I can see at present, I have nothing to add
or subtract; you have expressed my meaning.
Socrates paused awhile, and seemed to be absorbed in reflection. At
length he said: This is a very serious inquiry which you are raising,
Cebes, involving the whole question of generation and corruption, about
which I will, if you like, give you my own experience; and you can apply
this, if you think that anything which I say will avail towards the
solution of your difficulty.
I should very much like, said Cebes, to hear what you have to say.
Then I will tell you, said Socrates. When I was young, Cebes, I had a
prodigious desire to know that department of philosophy which is called
Natural Science; this appeared to me to have lofty aims, as being the
science which has to do with the causes of things, and which teaches why
a thing is, and is created and destroyed; and I was always agitating
myself with the consideration of such questions as these: Is the growth
of animals the result of some decay which the hot and cold principle
contracts, as some have said? Is the blood the element with which we
think, or the air, or the fire? or perhaps nothing of this sort -- but
the brain may be the originating power of the perceptions of hearing and
sight and smell, and memory and opinion may come from them, and science
may be based on memory and opinion when no longer in motion, but at
rest. And then I went on to examine the decay of them, and then to the
things of heaven and earth, and at last I concluded that I was wholly
incapable of these inquiries, as I will satisfactorily prove to you. For
I was fascinated by them to such a degree that my eyes grew blind to
things that I had seemed to myself, and also to others, to know quite
well; and I forgot what I had before thought to be self-evident, that
the growth of man is the result of eating and drinking; for when by the
digestion of food flesh is added to flesh and bone to bone, and whenever
there is an aggregation of congenial elements, the lesser bulk becomes
larger and the small man greater. Was not that a reasonable notion?
Yes, said Cebes, I think so.
Well; but let me tell you something more. There was a time when I
thought that I understood the meaning of greater and less pretty well;
and when I saw a great man standing by a little one I fancied that one
was taller than the other by a head; or one horse would appear to be
greater than another horse: and still more clearly did I seem to
perceive that ten is two more than eight, and that two cubits are more
than one, because two is twice one.
And what is now your notion of such matters? said Cebes.
I should be far enough from imagining, he replied, that I knew the cause
of any of them, indeed I should, for I cannot satisfy myself that when
one is added to one, the one to which the addition is made becomes two,
or that the two units added together make two by reason of the addition.
For I cannot understand how, when separated from the other, each of them
was one and not two, and now, when they are brought together, the mere
juxtaposition of them can be the cause of their becoming two: nor can I
understand how the division of one is the way to make two; for then a
different cause would produce the same effect -- as in the former
instance the addition and juxtaposition of one to one was the cause of
two, in this the separation and subtraction of one from the other would
be the cause. Nor am I any longer satisfied that I understand the reason
why one or anything else either is generated or destroyed or is at all,
but I have in my mind some confused notion of another method, and can
never admit this.
Then I heard someone who had a book of Anaxagoras, as he said, out of
which he read that mind was the disposer and cause of all, and I was
quite delighted at the notion of this, which appeared admirable, and I
said to myself: If mind is the disposer, mind will dispose all for the
best, and put each particular in the best place; and I argued that if
anyone desired to find out the cause of the generation or destruction or
existence of anything, he must find out what state of being or suffering
or doing was best for that thing, and therefore a man had only to
consider the best for himself and others, and then he would also know
the worse, for that the same science comprised both. And I rejoiced to
think that I had found in Anaxagoras a teacher of the causes of
existence such as I desired, and I imagined that he would tell me first
whether the earth is flat or round; and then he would further explain
the cause and the necessity of this, and would teach me the nature of
the best and show that this was best; and if he said that the earth was
in the centre, he would explain that this position was the best, and I
should be satisfied if this were shown to me, and not want any other
sort of cause. And I thought that I would then go and ask him about the
sun and moon and stars, and that he would explain to me their
comparative swiftness, and their returnings and various states, and how
their several affections, active and passive, were all for the best. For
I could not imagine that when he spoke of mind as the disposer of them,
he would give any other account of their being as they are, except that
this was best; and I thought when he had explained to me in detail the
cause of each and the cause of all, he would go on to explain to me what
was best for each and what was best for all. I had hopes which I would
not have sold for much, and I seized the books and read them as fast as
I could in my eagerness to know the better and the worse.
What hopes I had formed, and how grievously was I disappointed! As I
proceeded, I found my philosopher altogether forsaking mind or any other
principle of order, but having recourse to air, and ether, and water,
and other eccentricities. I might compare him to a person who began by
maintaining generally that mind is the cause of the actions of Socrates,
but who, when he endeavored to explain the causes of my several actions
in detail, went on to show that I sit here because my body is made up of
bones and muscles; and the bones, as he would say, are hard and have
ligaments which divide them, and the muscles are elastic, and they cover
