Phaedo. By all
means.
Then if it is in such a
condition, it goes away into that which is like itself, into the invisible,
divine, immortal, and wise, and when it arrives there it is happy, freed from
error and folly and fear and fierce loves and all the other human ills, and as
the initiated say, lives in truth through all after time with the gods. Is this
our belief, Cebes, or not?
Assuredly,
said Cebes.But,
I think,
if when it departs from the body it
is defiled and impure, because it was always with the body and cared for it and
loved it and was fascinated by it and its desires and pleasures, so that it
thought nothing was true except the corporeal, which one can touch and see and
drink and eat and employ in the pleasures of love, and if it is accustomed to
hate and fear and avoid that which is shadowy and invisible to the eyes but is
intelligible and tangible to philosophy—do you think a soul in this
condition
will depart pure and
uncontaminated?
By no
means,
said he.But it will be
interpenetrated, I suppose, with the corporeal which intercourse and communion
with the body have made a part of its nature because the body has been its
constant companion and the object of its care?
Certainly.
And, my friend, we must believe that the corporeal is burdensome and
heavy and earthly and visible. And such a soul is weighed down by this and is
dragged back into the visible world, through fear of the invisible and of the
other world, and so,
as they say, it flits
about the monuments and the tombs, where shadowy shapes of souls have been seen,
figures of those souls which were not set free in purity but retain something of
the visible; and this is why they are seen.
That is likely, Socrates.
It is likely, Cebes. And it is likely that those are not the souls of
the good, but those of the base, which are compelled to flit about such places
as a punishment for their former evil mode of life. And they flit about
until through the desire of the corporeal
which clings to them they are again imprisoned in a body. And they are likely to
be imprisoned in natures which correspond to the practices of their former
life.
What natures do you mean,
Socrates?
I mean, for example,
that those who have indulged in gluttony and violence and drunkenness, and have
taken no pains to avoid them, are likely to pass into the bodies of asses and
other beasts of that sort.