Death

After I die, I shall attain the goal of my life.

So I go on my way rejoicing along with every other man who believes that his mind has been made ready and purified.

This purification is the separation of the soul from the body.

It is the habit of the soul gathering and collecting herself into herself from all sides out of the body.

The dwelling in her own place alone, as in another life, so also in this, as far as she can;—the release of the soul from the chains of the body.

This separation and release of the soul from the body is called death.

Only the true philosophers are ever seeking to release the soul. The separation and release of the soul from the body is their especial study.

There would be a ridiculous contradiction in men studying to live as nearly as they can in a state of death, and yet repining when it comes on them.

The true philosophers, Simmias, are always occupied in the practice of dying. Wherefore also to them least of all men is death terrible.

If they have been the enemies of the body in every way, and are wanting to be alone with the soul, when this desire of theirs is granted, how inconsistent would they be if they trembled and repined, instead of rejoicing at their departure to that place where, when they arrive, they hope to gain that which in life they desired

this was wisdom—and at the same time to be rid of the company of their enemy.

Many men have been willing to go to the world below animated by the hope of seeing there an earthly love, or wife, or son, and conversing with them.

And will he who is a true lover of wisdom, and is strongly persuaded in like manner that only in the world below he can worthily enjoy her, still repine at death? Will he not depart with joy?

Surely he will if he were a true philosopher.

He will have a firm conviction that he can find pure wisdom there only.

In this case, he would not be afraid of death.

A man who is repining at the approach of death shows that he is not a lover of wisdom, but a lover of the body.

Probably at the same time he is a lover of money or power, or both.

The true philosopher is known specially for his courage and temperance.

Temperance is the control and regulation of the passions.

• It is a virtue belonging to those only who despise the body, and who pass their lives in philosophy.

The courage and temperance of other men are really a contradiction. Death is regarded by men in general as a great evil. Courageous men face death because they are afraid of yet greater evils.

Then all but the philosophers are courageous only from fear. Yet that a man should be courageous from fear, and because he is a coward, is surely a strange thing.

The temperate is exactly in the same case. They are temperate because they are intemperate. —which might seem to be a contradiction, but is nevertheless the sort of thing which happens with this foolish temperance.

They are afraid of losing certain pleasures. In their desire to keep them, they abstain from some pleasures because they are overcome by others. Although to be conquered by pleasure is called by men intemperance, to them the conquest of pleasure consists in being conquered by pleasure.

That is what I mean by saying that they are made temperate through intemperance.

Yet the exchange of one fear or pleasure or pain for another fear or pleasure or pain, and of the greater for the less, as if they were coins, is not the exchange of virtue.

Wisdom is the true coin for which all things should be exchanged. Courage, temperance, or justice are really only exchanged for wisdom.

All the true virtues are the companion of wisdom. But the virtue which is made up of these goods, when they are severed from wisdom and exchanged with one another, is a shadow of virtue only, nor is there any freedom or health or truth in her.

In the true exchange, all these things are purged away. This purging leads to temperance, justice, courage, and wisdom.

The founders of the mysteries said long ago:

• that he who passes unsanctified and uninitiated into the world below will lie in a slough
• but he who arrives there after initiation and purification will dwell with the gods.

This is because many are the thyrsus-bearers, but few are the mystics – the the true philosophers.

In the number of whom, during my whole life, I have been seeking, according to my ability, to find a place;—whether I have sought in a right way or not, and whether I have succeeded or not, I shall truly know in a little while, if God will, when I myself arrive in the other world—such is my belief.

I am right, Simmias and Cebes, in not grieving or repining at parting from you and my masters in this world. For I believe that I shall equally find good masters and friends in another world.

But most men do not believe this. If I succeed in convincing you by my defence better than I did the Athenian judges, then it will be well.