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theirs。 And there is no difficulty； he said； in assigning to all of
them places answering to their several natures and propensities？
There is not； he said。
Even among them some are happier than others； and the happiest
both in themselves and their place of abode are those who have
practised the civil and social virtues which are called temperance and
justice； and are acquired by habit and attention without philosophy
and mind。
Why are they the happiest？
Because they may be expected to pass into some gentle； social nature
which is like their own； such as that of bees or ants； or even back
again into the form of man； and just and moderate men spring from
them。
That is not impossible。
But he who is a philosopher or lover of learning； and is entirely
pure at departing； is alone permitted to reach the gods。 And this is
the reason； Simmias and Cebes； why the true votaries of philosophy
abstain from all fleshly lusts； and endure and refuse to give
themselves up to them…not because they fear poverty or the ruin of
their families； like the lovers of money； and the world in general；
nor like the lovers of power and honor； because they dread the
dishonor or disgrace of evil deeds。
No； Socrates； that would not become them； said Cebes。
No； indeed； he replied； and therefore they who have a care of
their souls； and do not merely live in the fashions of the body； say
farewell to all this； they will not walk in the ways of the blind： and
when philosophy offers them purification and release from evil； they
feel that they ought not to resist her influence； and to her they
incline； and whither she leads they follow her。
What do you mean； Socrates？
I will tell you； he said。 The lovers of knowledge are conscious that
their souls； when philosophy receives them； are simply fastened and
glued to their bodies： the soul is only able to view existence through
the bars of a prison； and not in her own nature； she is wallowing in
the mire of all ignorance； and philosophy； seeing the terrible
nature of her confinement； and that the captive through desire is
led to conspire in her own captivity （for the lovers of knowledge
are aware that this was the original state of the soul； and that
when she was in this state philosophy received and gently counseled
her； and wanted to release her； pointing out to her that the eye is
full of deceit； and also the ear and other senses； and persuading
her to retire from them in all but the necessary use of them and to be
gathered up and collected into herself； and to trust only to herself
and her own intuitions of absolute existence； and mistrust that
which comes to her through others and is subject to
vicissitude）…philosophy shows her that this is visible and tangible；
but that what she sees in her own nature is intellectual and
invisible。 And the soul of the true philosopher thinks that she
ought not to resist this deliverance； and therefore abstains from
pleasures and desires and pains and fears； as far as she is able；
reflecting that when a man has great joys or sorrows or fears or
desires he suffers from them； not the sort of evil which might be
anticipated…as； for example； the loss of his health or property； which
he has sacrificed to his lusts…but he has suffered an evil greater
far； which is the greatest and worst of all evils； and one of which he
never thinks。
And what is that； Socrates？ said Cebes。
Why； this： When the feeling of pleasure or pain in the soul is
most intense； all of us naturally suppose that the object of this
intense feeling is then plainest and truest： but this is not the case。
Very true。
And this is the state in which the soul is most enthralled by the
body。
How is that？
Why； because each pleasure and pain is a sort of nail which nails
and rivets the soul to the body； and engrosses her and makes her
believe that to be true which the body affirms to be true； and from
agreeing with the body and having the same delights she is obliged
to have the same habits and ways； and is not likely ever to be pure at
her departure to the world below； but is always saturated with the
body； so that she soon sinks into another body and there germinates
and grows； and has therefore no part in the communion of the divine
and pure and simple。
That is most true； Socrates； answered Cebes。
And this； Cebes； is the reason why the true lovers of knowledge
are temperate and brave； and not for the reason which the world gives。
Certainly not。
Certainly not！ For not in that way does the soul of a philosopher
reason； she will not ask philosophy to release her in order that
when released she may deliver herself up again to the thraldom of
pleasures and pains； doing a work only to be undone again； weaving
instead of unweaving her Penelope's web。 But she will make herself a
calm of passion and follow Reason； and dwell in her； beholding the
true and divine （which is not matter of opinion）； and thence derive
nourishment。 Thus she seeks to live while she lives； and after death
she hopes to go to her own kindred and to be freed from human ills。
Never fear； Simmias and Cebes； that a soul which has been thus
nurtured and has had these pursuits； will at her departure from the
body be scattered and blown away by the winds and be nowhere and
nothing。
When Socrates had done speaking； for a considerable time there was
silence； he himself and most of us appeared to be meditating on what
had been said； only Cebes and Simmias spoke a few words to one
another。 And Socrates observing this asked them what they thought of
the argument； and whether there was anything wanting？ For； said he；
much is still open to suspicion and attack； if anyone were disposed to
sift the matter thoroughly。 If you are talking of something else I
would rather not interrupt you； but if you are still doubtful about
the argument do not hesitate to say exactly what you think； and let us
have anything better which you can suggest； and if I am likely to be
of any use； allow me to help you。
Simmias said： I must confess； Socrates； that doubts did arise in our
minds； and each of us was urging and inciting the other to put the
question which he wanted to have answered and which neither of us
liked to ask； fearing that our importunity might be troublesome
under present circumstances。
Socrates smiled and said： O Simmias； how strange that is； I am not
very likely to persuade other men that I do not regard my present
situation as a misfortune； if I am unable to persuade you； and you
will keep fancying that I am at all more troubled now than at any
other time。 Will you not allow that I have as much of the spirit of
prophecy in me as the swans？ For they； when they perceive that they
must die； hav