Callias: A Tale of the Fall of Athens

by Alfred John Church

“Speak on without fear,” said Simmias, “you seem to have the memory of all the muses.”

Phaedo resumed, “Socrates said, ‘You ask me why a man may not kill himself? Well, there is first this reason that we are as sentinels set at a post, which we must not leave until we are bidden; then again if men be servants of the gods, as seems likely, how can they withdraw from this service without leave? Would you not be angry if one of your servants were to do it?’

“‘True,’ said Cebes, ‘but if we are the servants of the gods, and therefore in the best guardianship, should we not be sorry to quit it? If so, is it not for the foolish to desire death and for the wise to regret it?’ ‘You are right,’ replied the Master, ‘and if I did not expect when I depart hence to go to the realms of the wise and good gods and to the company of righteous men, I should indeed grieve at death. And that I am right in so expecting let me now seek to prove to you, for what better could I do on this the last day of my life? But stay; Crito wishes to say something. What is it?’ Crito said, ‘He who has to give the poison says that you must talk as little as possible, for that if a man so excites himself he has to drink sometimes two potions or even three.’ ‘Let him take his course,’ said the master, ‘and prepare what he thinks needful. And now to the matter in hand. Death, then, is nothing but a separation of the soul from the body. That you concede. And you concede further that a philosopher should care little for the things of the body, and that when he is most free from the body, then he sees most clearly the highest and best things, perceiving, for instance, right and justice and honor and goodness, veritable things all of them, but such as cannot be discerned with the eyes or handled with the hands. For the body with its desires and wants hinders us, and makes us waste our time on the things that it covets, so that we have neither time nor temper for wisdom. If then we are ever to reach absolute Truth we must get rid of the hindrance. While we live we do this to the best of our ability, and he is the wisest man and best philosopher who does it most completely; but wholly we cannot do it, till the god shall liberate us from the control of this companion—And this is done by Death, which is the complete separation of soul and body. Shall then the philosopher, who has all his life been striving for such partial separation as may be possible, complain when the gods send him this separation that is complete? And this is my defence, my friends, for holding it to be a good thing to die.’ ‘Yes,’ replied Cebes, ‘but many fear that when the soul is thus parted from the body, it may be nowhere, being dissipated like a breath or a puff of smoke when the body with which it has been united dies.’ ‘You desire, then,’ said Socrates, ‘that I should prove to you that the soul does not perish when it is thus separated from the body?’ ‘Yes,’ we all said, ‘that is what we all wish.’ ‘First then,’ he went on, ‘is it not true that every thing implies that which is opposite to it, as Right implies Wrong, and Fair implies Foul, and to sleep is the opposite of to wake? If so does not to die imply its opposite to live again?

“‘Secondly, is it not true that the highest part of our knowledge is a remembering again? For there are things which we know not through our senses. How then do we know them? Surely because we had this knowledge of them at some previous time.’

“‘But,’ said Cebes, ‘may it not be true that the soul has been made beforehand to enter the body; and having entered it lives therein, and yet perishes when its dwelling is dissolved?’

“‘Being of a frail nature, I suppose,’ said the Master, ‘it’s all to be blown away by the wind, so that a man should be especially afraid to die on a stormy day.’

“At this we all laughed, for we did laugh many times and heartily that day, though now this may seem to others and indeed to ourselves almost incredible, seeing what we were about to lose.

“‘Well,’ the Master went on, ‘I will seek to relieve you of this fear. Is it not true that things that are made up of parts are liable to be separated? And is it not also true that the soul is not made up of parts, but is simple and not compounded? Also it is visible things that perish; but the soul is not visible. Again the soul is the ruler, and the body the servant. Is it not true that the divine and immortal rule the human and mortal senses?’

“To this we all agreed.

“The Master began again, for he now, as I may say, had to put before us the conclusion of the whole matter. ‘We may think thus, then, may we not? If the soul depart from the body in a state of purity, not taking with it any of the uncleannesses of the body, from which indeed it has kept itself free during life as far as was possible—for this is true philosophy—then it departs into that invisible region which is of its own nature, and being freed from all fears and desires and other evils of mortality, spends the rest of its existence with the gods and the spirits of the good that are like unto itself. But if it depart, polluted and impure, having served the body, and suffered itself to be bewitched by its pleasures and desires, then it cannot attain to this pure and heavenly region, but must abide in some place that is more fitted for it.’