SOCRATES TRIUMPHANS.
‘Nostra hinc ad Deum transmi [...]rali [...] felix fausta (que) sit.’

R: White Sculy.

LONDON Printed for J: Magnes and R: Bently.

PLATO his APOLOGY of SOCRATES, AND PHAEDO or Dialogue concerning the Immortality of Mans SOUL, AND Manner of SOCRATES his Death: Carefully translated from the Greek, AND Illustrated by Reflections upon both the Athenian Laws, and ancient Rites and Traditions concerning the Soul, therein mentioned.

Quintilianus [...]stitut. Orator. lib. 10 cap. 5.

Vertere Graeca in Latinum veteres nostri Oratores op­timum judicabant. Id se L. Crassus in illis Cice­ro [...]de Oratore libris dicit factitasse. Id Cicero su [...] [...]ersona frequentissime praecipit: quin etiam libros Platonis [Timaeum nempe, quem inscripsit de Universitate] at (que) Xenophontis edidit hoc genere translatos.

LONDON, Printed by T. R. & N. T. for James Magnes and Richard Bentley at the Post-Office in Bussel-street in Covent-Garden, 1675.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE the EARL of ANGLESEY, Lord Privy Seal, &c.

My LORD,

THE Manuscript now herewith delivered to your Servant, had two days since been brought to Your Lordship, had I not so long disputed with my self, Whether it were more decent for me to send it [Page] single, or to give it an Epistle for a companion. Nor was it so easie a matter for me to determin this my doubt; the contrary reasons that offered themselves to my perpension, seeming to me to be of equal weight

When, on one side, I considered how immense a multiplicity of af­fairs, and those of great importance too, come hourly crowding into your thoughts, expecting from you to be at once both judged and dispatched with highest Prudence; and how few minutes you have to spare from cares of State: I was inclined to conclude, that the perusal of the Book alone, without the importunity of a Letter, might too much interrupt your re­pose, and the public felicity. To this was added, that neither Socrates nor Plato could need Letters of re­commendation to a man so well ac­quainted with the Heroic Virtues of [Page] the one, and the Divine Doctrin of the other. Nay I thought it a kind of Sacrilege against their Merits, as well as against your Judgement, but to imagine, that any thing I could write to introduce them, might in­crease your esteem of them.

When, on the other, I remem­ber'd that the Book contains, not an Original, but a Copy; not the intire Images of those two so justly re­nowned Philosophers, but only two select pieces of them, namely the up­right and invincible Heart of the one, and the perspicacious Eye of the other (I mean the Defense of Socra­tes, and the discourse of the Immor­tality of Mans Soul) and that I owed Your Lordship, not only the free use thereof, but also an accompt of the reasons I had to allege in excuse (I must not say, justification) of the little art shewn by me in the Tran­script: [Page] remembring this, I say, I could not but think it convenient, to draw a few lines more, in order to your satisfaction concerning that particular. Besides this, gratefully re-calling to mind, that you had long before honour'd me, not only with licence, but with express Com­mand also, to write to you, and that frequently too, especialy concerning matters Philosophical; and being of opinion, that this Book contains one of the noblest Disquisitions any where to be found among the monu­ments of even the Ancient Grecian Philosophers: I was apt to conceive it to be more probable (your ex­traordinary Candor together conside­red) that my omission to do it, upon this inviting occasion, might carry the face of Disobedience; than that my doing it would be look'd upon as importune or indecent.

[Page]And this last reason, in weight exceeding all the moments put into the opposite Scale, at length turned the balance of my suspence; and made me conclude, that certainly I should less offend by a fault for which I might plead the authority of Your Lordships Command, than by one that could not be otherwise ex­cused, but by confessing my distrust of your Benignity, and diffidence of your Favour, wherein chiefly I esteem my self to be happy.

Notwithstanding this, I still found my self obliged, so far at least to give ear to the former arguments that would have dissuaded me from wri­ting, as to resolve to make my fault as little and venial as was possible, by writing no more than should seem necessary to the defens of the Plain­ness, and familiar Style used by me, in the version of these two so excel­lent [Page] Discourses of Plato into our Language. For that seems chiefly to require an Apology: the admira­ble Wisedom, great Ʋtility, and charming sweetness of the Discourses themselves, being already perfectly known to Your Lordship, and ac­knowledged by universal consent of the Learned in all ages, since it be­came a doubt, whether Athens were more to be honoured for the birth of Socrates, or to be branded with in­famy and hatred for the cruel mur­der of him. And as for the Occasi­on of my translating them; you are so far from needing to be adver­tised thereof, that you made it my Province: that is, from your just admiration of the incorruptible Justice of Socrates, expressed in a Colloquy at your Table (where the Minds, no less than the bodies of your Guests are always feasted) [Page] I took the first hint of the design, and proceeded therein by your ap­probation; which with me, is equi­valent to an injunction.

Suffer me then, my Lord, briefly to acquaint you, that if in this di­version of my pen, I have not only confined it, as strictly as my weak judgement would permit me to do it, within the bounds of the Authors sense; but caused it also whereso­ever I could, to trace out his very Expressions, and render them even word for word: it was not that I imagined that way to be either more facil, or more elegant; but because I judged it to be the more faithful, and I had design'd, not a Paraphrase, but a Translation. By comparing the Latin version of Marsilius Ficinus with that of Serranus, I had found these two great men not seldom vari­ous, somtimes dubious, and som­times [Page] irreconciliable in their inter­pretations: so that both could not be in the right; and to me who had not been sufficiently versed in the dialect and style of Plato, nor com­petently skilled in the Criticisms of the Greek, it was extremely diffi­cult to discern, which of the two came nearest to the true and genuine sense of the Author; more especialy where it was probable they had fol­lowed different Exemplars, and cer­tain that even their best Editions of Plato were not sufficiently correct. To extricate my self from this per­plexity, I was constrained to take this course. Where the Greek Text ap­pear'd to me to be of it self plain and perspicuous, I seldom consulted any other Oracle. Where the same seem'd obscure by words of ambi­guous signification, and used Meta­phoricaly: first I sought to let in [Page] light upon the place, by opening the casements both of the antecedent and subsequent Context; and if thereby I could discern the mind of those words, I had recourse to the Inter­preters also, though merely for con­firmation. Where I found my self intangled both in the abstruseness of the Text, and in the discrepancy of its interpretations; I chose to adhere to the more consentaneous, which most frequently was that of Serra­nus; and where the interpretations were not only different, but inca­pable of consistency and reconci­liation: there I was forced to grope out my way by probable Conjecture, as being destitute of other help. Here to expatiate into a particular Catalogue of these Difficulties, and adfer instances of each sort of them; is neither to my present scope neces­sary, nor consistent with the module [Page] of an Epistle: and after this gene­ral accompt, it seems more decent for me to render a reason, why I so far mentioned them. Be pleased therefore to know, that I have done it, not to derogate from the glory and authority of those two so de­servedly celebrated names of Ficinus and Serranus, from whose immortal Works I hold my self scarcely wor­thy to wipe the dust, and without whose conduct and manuduction I could not have been able to proceed without stumbling at almost every step: but only to make your Won­der the less, when you shall find me, not only stumbling, but Erring also from the direct path of Plato's sen­timents and intention; which I fear I have more than once done. For, if such men as they were, met som­times with Knots they could not un­ty: what wonder is it, that I who [Page] am so much their inferior both in learning and judgement, should be often embroil'd in doubts I cannot solve? if They who have shewn themselves both exquisitely Critical in the Greek of the Ancients, and intimately conversant even in the most mysterious notions, and pro­found recesses of the Platonic Philo­sophy, openly dissent from, and clash one with the other, about the genuin sense of many hundreds of places therein occurring: how much of fa­vour is due to this weak Essay of one, who is neither good Grecian, nor so much as a mean Platonist? I may therefore expect from Your Lordship, rather reprhension for at­tempting above my strength, than blame for performing below my hopes. Now, my Lord, that I may draw all the lines of this long Para­graph to a point; this very Reason [Page] here brought to excuse my Deviati­ons (if I be found guilty of any such) from the sense, may well serve also to justifie my strict adhesi­on to the Words of my Author, wheresoever the vast disparity be­twixt the most significant Idioms of Plato's Greek, and those of our Babel of Languages, the English, would permit. For, as a Novice in the Art of Painting, though he come short of the life, will yet more cer­tainly represent the true dimensions of the thing he designs to paint, and the becoming Symmetry of all its parts; if he transgress not the lines drawn to his hand by a Master, to circumscribe the image, and confine his pencill to the due proportions thereof: so I being to copy the Sen­timents of Another, believ'd I should be the less prone to err, by how much the less I receded from the Marks he [Page] had left of them: and hereupon I resolved to do my best devoir, first to understand those Marks distinctly, and then to represent their Significa­tions faithfully: preferring plain imi­tation to more artificial ornament. Not that I had then forgot, there are intruth certain Modes of speak­ing, and graceful Phrases proper and peculiar to every Language, so as to be incapable of alienation or tradu­ction; and certain Subjects also that are, as by natural congruity, much more agreeably and patheticaly ex­press'd by one Tongue, than by any other: and that therefore a Transla­tor ought to be allowed competent liberty to use such words, phrases and figures of speech, as he shall judge most fit, as well to conserve the beauty and elegance of the origi­nal conception, as to symbolize and suit with the argument; and this lest [Page] his style become pedantique and flat, and the Matter it self be debased, as the best Wines lose their Spirit by transfusion from vessel to vessel. But that I well remembred, that an Emi­nent Wit of Your Lordships acquain­tance, who had with severity enough declamed against verbal Translati­ons, was yet at the same time so in­genuous, as to grant some Books to be of so great and universal impor­tance, as that not only their Sense, but even their Words too ought to be reputed Sacred: and that I con­ceived these two pieces of Plato, more especialy that of the Soul, whereof the Speculations are for the most part Metaphysical or Theological, deserved to be of that number. Hereunto was conjoyned a Second consideration, viz. That by keep­ing close to the Words of the Text, even in the Ornamental parts of the [Page] Discours, I might not only the bet­ter avoid the danger of either ener­vating the Expressions, or offering such violence to the Sense of it, as might make it appear rather mine than my Authors; but also retain some impressions of the civil manner and way used by those Ancient Sages in their frank Conferences, and im­passionate Disputations concerning matters Philosophical: a thing not unworthy the serious notice of those who are strangers to the Atticism and admirable Civility of Plato; and, the Morosity and obstinacy of our Modern Disputants considered, to all Exemplary. These, my good Lord, are the Reasons that induced me to labour to shew my self, in this diverting Essay, rather fidum Meta­phrasten, than disertum Paraphrasten; rather just than polite. And as for the plainness of my style (if that [Page] be a fault) though it be the natural consequent of my fidelity; yet I have this further to plead in defense thereof, that the gravity of the Sub­ject exacted it: for, as the Prince of Roman Stoics most judiciously observes (Epist. 40.) quae veritati operam dat oratio, incomposita debet esse & simplex.

Hitherto, my Lord, I have offen­ded against your patience, by forcing you to hear my Apology: be pleas'd now to let me expiate that offens, by exercising the same a minute or two longer, while I recall into your memory some of those many Heroic Virtues of Socrates, whereof his grate­ful Disciple, Plato, hath left to us such remarkable instances, both in his Apology, and in the accurate nar­ration of the manner and circumstan­ces of his Death.

[Page]This poor Philosopher, my Lord, seems to be the man upon whom the bounty of Heaven accumulated all the various Gifts, it useth to distri­bute but singly and with a sparing hand to other Mortals: and the least of his divine Endowments hath often sufficed to render even private per­sons illustrous, and Sceptres them­selves more august.

Had you beheld him in arms, with his Sword rescuing Xenophon, and standing alone confronting a victori­ous army, when the Athenian forces fled from the battell of Delium: you would have seen Wisedom recon­ciled to Warre, Judgement moving hand in hand with Fury, and the Rational faculty of the Soul concur­ring in the same action with the Iras­cible; and thereupon concluded, that true Valour arises, not from heat of blood, nor from excess of Choler, [Page] but from strength and resolution of Mind; and that a good Philosopher may make an excellent Captain. Had you seen him in another Expediti­on, returning a Conquerour from Potidaea, and transferring all the ho­nours and rewards due to so signal a victory, upon his beloved Alcibiades, reserving to himself no other place in the Triumph but among the fol­lowers of his Friend: You might have sworn, he had fought so brave­ly rather for Conscience, than for ei­ther Glory or Spoyl; and that he desired no greater name than that of a good Patriot and sincere Friend.

When you reflect upon his fearless refusal to execute the Command he had received from the supreme Coun­cil of Athens, to fetch Leo Salami­nius from Salamine, to be put to death, according to the Sentence given against him by the Usurper Cri­tias [Page] and his Adherents: you will (I presume) acknowledge, that he fear'd nothing but to do ill, that he disdain'd to assert any power that was not just, that Athens it self might with more ease have been re­moved to Salamine, than he brought to relinquish Right and Equity; and that he was more ready to accompa­ny the oppressed in their Sufferings under Tyranny, than to be a sharer in the administration of it. Had some Roman been a witness of this virtuous obstinacy, he would have cried out perhaps, that the Capitol it­self was not more immoveable than the integrity of Socrates; and envi­ed Greece the glory of so rare an Ex­ample. What then would he have said. my Lord, had he been present at the dispute betwixt the same So­crates and his most faithful Scholar Crito, wherein he being with no weak [Page] arguments urged, to evade the exe­cution of that most unjust Sentence lately pass'd upon him, and deliver himself from violent death by an escape plotted and prepared to his hand; nevertheless not only rejected that affectionate advice, but by de­monstration convinced the Author of it, that the auctority of Law, and Decrees of Courts of Judicature, are things in their sanction so vene­rable and sacred, as to oblige men to submission, even when they are manifestly unjust; and brought him at length to acquiesce in this Con­clusion, nefas sibi esse è carcere egredi, injussu Magistratus, & contra legum autoritatem? Herein whether Socra­tes were in the right or not, let our Civilians determin: I, for my part, verily believe, he thought he was; and this is most evident, that he could never be either overcome by terrors, [Page] or won by allurements, to recede so much as a hairs bredth from what he had once defined to be just. This very Monosyllable doubtless was his whole Decalogue, equivalent to the Laws of the twelve Tables among the Romans, the basis of his Religion, the Centre of his Counsels, and rule to his actions: nor can I be easily persuaded, that Astrea left to dwell among men untill after his death. Of his obedience to the Laws and consti­tutions of his City, he gave this fur­ther testimony; that when the Athe­nian Republic, to repair their people much exhausted by warre and pesti­lence, had made an Edict, that every man of fit years should be obliged to espouse one woman, as principal wife, and have liberty to take another, for procreation: he, notwithstanding he had his hands full of unquiet Xan­tippe (whose peevishness and moro­sity [Page] was grown to be the daily exer­cise of his patience at home, and his reproch abroad) yet in conformity to the Edict, fear'd not to receive into his little house and narrow bed, another Consort also, one Myrto, daughter of that Aristides surnamed the Just, but equaly poor with him­self. This certainly could not but be somwhat harsh and disagreeable to a man already entered into the confines of old age, and understan­ding the pleasures of serenity and re­pose: and yet I must not imagin it to have been at all difficult to the wisedom of our Socrates, whose tranquillity appears to have been ele­vated, like the head of mount Athos, above the tempest of feminin conten­tions, jealousies and impertinences, and his Mind incapable of pe [...]turba­tions. However, he put not private cares into the balance against a duty [Page] to the Public: but chose to be a good Citisen, by increasing Posteri­ty, though he were sure thereby to multiply his own domestic incom­modities.

Acting by this infallible principle of Justice (which is, as Plato calls it, [...], the greatest of hu­man goods, and Mother of all other virtues) and fully persuaded of the divinity and immortality of the Soul (which is the fundament of all Re­ligion) and of future rewards and punishments: the wonder is the less, that this admirable man was able, both to trample upon all the splen­did and precious things of this mo­mentany life, and to bid defiance to all the terrible: for, secure in his own innocence, and confident of happiness to come; 'twas less diffi­cult to him either to contemn dan­gers, or resist temptations. Nay, [Page] to do him right, neither could this Temperance, nor that Fortitude be at all difficult to him, who by long use, and continual practice, had exalted them from Virtues into Habits.

In the first, he appear'd to be so perfect, that tho as a man he could not but feel the motions and sollici­tations of Corporeal Appetites, yet none of them dared to rebell against the Soveraignty of Reason, by whose power he alwaies both ruled and bounded them: nor could even a good Soul separated from its body, and delivered from all encumbrances of Matter, have acted more sedately, or been less incommodated with Passions. In a word, in his whole life, he seem'd not only unconcern'd in, but insensible of the vain appea­rance of human things.

Being thus impenetrable to Cupi­dities, it may be worth our labour to [Page] enquire also, how strong he was against Fear. That we may therefore take the true hight of his Courage, let us (if it please Your Lordship) observe his deportment at the bar, in the prison, and at his death.

At the Tribunal, we hear his Con­stancy no less than his Innocency tri­umphing over the power and ma­lice of his combined Accusers: the greatest hurt they can do to me, saith he, is to think it possible to hurt me; since God takes care of Good men, and they therefore can never be violated by wicked men. To a friend whispering in his ear, that his Judges had before resolved to doom him to death: he answers softly and with a smile (but such a smile as re­tain'd an aire of Gravity and Dig­nity) and hath not Nature passed the same doom upon them? Retiring af­ter his condemnation, Adieu my [Page] friends, saith he, I am now going to suffer death, ye to enjoy life: God alone knows, which of the two is better.

In the Prison, we find him de­spoil'd of whatever Fortune could take from him, his body covered with raggs and loaden with chains, his leggs galled and cramp'd with fet­ters, his eyes entertain'd with no objects but a wife and Infant weep­ing: and yet for all this, we hear no complaints, no lamentations, no grones, no not so much as one sigh come from him; but discourses con­solatory and divine. Good God, how great is the power of Wise­dom! how invincible the courage of a Soul armed with virtue! If this mans condition be Happy (as certainly it is) how much are Mor­tals generaly mistaken in the notion of Happiness! Here we behold a [Page] shew of Misery in extremity: but realy there is no such thing. For if you look more intently upon So­crates, you shall discern in him all the signs of alacrity, all the chara­cters of Joy. To see him so uncon­cern'd, a man would think, he were not a Sufferer, but a Comforter. There is (Your Lordship well knows) a sort of natural Authority inherent in the very Persons of some men, resulting perhaps from certain characters of a great Mind, which heroic virtue imprints upon their countenance: and this as it corrects the imperfections of nature, where it meets with any; so doth it like­wise adorn the nakedness of its owner exposed to the outrages of fortune, illuminate his dungeon, and strike fear and reverence into the heart of even Executioners; as you may remember it did into his, who came [Page] to kill that noble Roman, Caius Ma­rius. Now this indelible Character of true Greatness, do I clearly per­ceive in the face of our Hero's, with its rayes enlightning the obscurity of his prison, consecrating his disgraces, chains and raggs, and rendring his afflictions holy and venerable. Nor can his Executioner endure the flashes of it, without astonishment, vene­ration and tears: and you may hear him, after a little recollection of himself, sobbing forth this acknow­ledgement. Farewell Socrates, saith he, The most generous and best of Men that ever came into this place. Which words being imperfectly pronoun­ced, he instantly retires; and una­ble to perform the duety of his place, he sends in another with the poyson.

Which being presented to Socra­tes, behold with what calmness of [Page] Spirit, what gravity of aspect, and how steady a hand he receives it, and drinks, as if that draught were to ex­tinguish, not his life, but thirst. Nor did his Fortitude grow cold with his blood, or sink with his vital powers; for even in the extreme agony of death, in the last pulse of his heart, when the vital flame ceased to warm him: then did the flame of his Cou­rage still continue, and animated him to breath forth words that signifie, his dissolution was most grateful to him, as a deliverance from the Sickness of Mortality, and passage to immortal Happiness. Which I am verily per­suaded, he now enjoys: his whole life seeming to me, as Erasmus (in [...]) ingenuously declared it did to him, nothing but a great Ex­ample of justice, temperance and pati­ence; so that if ever any among the Ethnics came neer to the perfection [Page] of a Christian life, it cannot be denied but Socrates was the man. It is not (I profess) my custom to address my praiers to any but God alone, who (I am most certain) both hears, and hath power to grant my petitions: and yet I blush not to confess, that whenever I read what Plato, Plutarch, Diogenes Laertius, Eunapius Sardia­nus among the Greeks, and Cicero and Seneca among the Latins, have written in commemoration of the ad­mirable virtues of this righteous man; I find my self strongly inclined to ex­clame, O sancte Socrates ora pro nobis! an ejaculation expresly owned even by Erasmus himself, whom Your Lordship well knows to have been free enough from Superstition: nor rashly to be condemned; nam fortasse latius se diffundit Spiritus Christi, quam nos interpretamur; & multi sunt in consortio Sanctorum, qui non sunt apud nos in catalogo.

[Page]As the actions of our Socrates in the theatre of life were a wonder of vir­tue to even the best and wisest Philo­sophers, so was his Exit truly glorious. But how infinitely more glorious ought we to esteem it, if we assent to the judgement of those many pious & learned men, who conceive him to have died a Martyr of the Ʋnity of God? Whether he did so, or not; I have neither place here, nor will to dispute. Leaving therefore that nice question to be decided by Your Lord­ship after you have revolved his Apo­logie; and in the mean time humbly deprecating your displeasure at my prolixity: I shall add only toward the excuse of it, this brief remark; that the very ashes of things soveraignly ex­cellent are for ever august and venerable.

I am, my good Lord, Your Lordships infinitely obliged and equaly devote Servant.
January 8. 1673.

L. Annaei Senecae de Socrate testimonium.

SI exemplum desideratis, accipite Socratem, perpessicium senem, per omnia aspera ja­ctatum, invictum tamen & panpertate, quam graviorem illi domestica onera faciebant; & laboribus, quos militares quo (que) pertulit, & quibus ille domi exercitus, five uxorem ejus spectes moribus feram, lingua petulantem; sive liberos indociles, & matri quam patri simi­liores. Sic fere aut in bello fuit, aut in ty­rannide, aut in libertate, bellis ac tyrannis sae­viore. Viginti & septem annis pugnatum est: post finita arma, triginta tyrannis noxae dedi­ta est civitas, ex quibus pleri (que) inimici erant. Novissima damnatio est, sub gravissimis ho­minibus impleta. Objecta est & religionum violatio, & juventatis corruptela: quam im­mittere in Deos, in patres, in remp. dictus est. Post haec carcer, & venenum. Haec us (que) eo animum Socratis non moverunt, ut ne vultum quidem moverint. Illam mirabilem laudem, & singularem, us (que) ad extremum servavit: non hilariorem quisquam, non tristiorem So­cratem vidit: aequalis fuit in tanta inaequa­litate fortunae. Epistol. 104.

Marc. Antoninus Imperator, [...], lib. 7. Sect. 66. Ex versione Gatakeri nostrat.

UNde constat nobis Socratem clara fuisse reliquis (que) praestantiore indole? ne (que) enim hoc sufficit, quod mortem gloriosissime oppete­bat; aut quod cum Sophistis acutissime disse­rebat; aut quod in frigore summo patientissime sub dio pernoctabat: aut quod Saliminium illum sistere jussus, resistere generosissime ma­lebat; aut quod per compita fastuose incedebat (quod tamen an verum fuerit, merito dubita­veris) verum illud considerare oportet, quo­modo affectam animam habuerit Socrates; utrum hoc contentus agere poterat, quod in re­bus humanis justus, in divinis pius existeret, nec malitiae cujusquam frustra indignatus, nec cujusquam inscitiae assentatus, nec ab universo assi [...]natum quicquam, aut tanquam peregri­num quid excipiens, aut tanquam intoleran­dum sustinens, nec carunculae affectionibus mentem passus coaffici.

Quintiliani de Socratis Apologia judicium, Institut. Orator. lib. XI. cap. 1.

QƲis nescit nihil magis profuturum ad absolutionem Socrati fuisse, quam si esset usus illo judiciali genere defensionis, & oratione summissa conciliasset judicum ani­mos sibi, crimen (que) ipsum solicite redarguisset? Verum id eum minime decebat: ideo (que) sic egit, ut qui poenam suam honoribus summis esset aestimaturus. Maluit enim vir Sapien­tissimus, quod superesset ex vita, sibi perire, quam quod praeterisset. Et quando ab homi­nibus sui temporis parum intelligebatur, poste­rorum se judicijs reservavit; brevi detrimen­to jam ultimae senectutis, aevum seculorum om­nium consecutus. Ita (que) quamvis Lysias, qui tum in dicendo praestantissimus habebatur, de­fensionem illi scriptam attulisset, uti ea no­luit: cum bonam quidem, sed parum sibi con­venientem judicasset.

Advertisement Of the Printer to the READER.

THo it hath so hapned, that the Errors of this impression be for the most part only Litteral, such as every Judicious man may as easily correct as find: yet because the Book per­haps may come into the hands of some whose Understandeng is not incapable to be retarded or seduced by even the smallest Pseu­dographical rubs cast in their way by the incurious Composi­tor; I therefore think it one part of my duty, so far to prevent the offens, and assist the apprehension of Readers of this sort, as to intreat them, first to pardon the faults that shall occur to them in reading, and then to amend them (so many at least, as I have in a hasty review observed) in this manner.

Page 12. line 23. read Prodicus Ceus, p. 15. l. 22. r. how vehement, p 19. l. 1. r. Dithyrambics, p. 22. l. 11. r. de­lighted, p. 24. l. 24. r youth, p. 44. l. 14. r. recalls, p. 46. l. 10. r. assenting, p. 56. l. 9. of the margin r. [...], p. 76. l. 2. r soon leads them, p. 109 l. 58. r. neerer to sapi­ence, p. 135. l. 6 r train of his thoughts, p 135. l. 6. r. train of his thoughts, p. 139. l. 20. r. is it not clearly evinced, p. 151. l. 3. r. q [...] quoniam c [...]ss sunt, p. 157. l. 1. r. conjun­cture of, p. 168. l. 12. r. d [...]scens [...]s, p. 193. l. 19. r. relating, p. 199. l. 4. r. came thereby, & l. 6. r broad kneading-tubb, p 213. l 15. r. the ration of even, & l. 26. r. the number Three, p. 235. l. 21. r. good omens and gratulation, p. 254. l. 9. r. Sanctiones, & l. 13. r. Deos, p. 259. l. 17. r. Epocha Marmorea, p. 263. l. 6. r. [...], p 265. l. 4. r. praefatus Deum p. 266. l. 9. r. Signification and Efficacy, p. 280. l. 12. r. um­brage of irreverence. p 290. l. 18. r. volitant (que) haec littora circum, p. 296. l. ult. r. Elpenor.

As for the more venial Errors committed in either omission or misplacing of Interpunctions and other signs of Pauses; having found them to be neither very numer [...]us, nor much injurious to the Authors Sense, I leave them to the candid Correction of the competent Reader.

SOCRATES HIS APOLOGY.

The ARGUMENT Out of SERRANƲS.

SOCRATES being accused of Im­piety by Melitus, Anitus, and Lycon, before the People of Athens, by this Oration defends his Cause: And he so pleads, that he not only evinceth this their accusation to be false and malitious; but also clearly sheweth, that on the contrary, he deserved well of the Republick, and was [Page 2] therefore worthy not of punishment, but re­ward. He moreover declares, that it was a Duty divinely imposed upon him, to reprove and convince Men; more particularly such, who being puffed up with a vain Opinion of their own Wisdom, were highly conceited of themselves. The infection of which ambitious folly he affirms to be diffus'd amongst Men of all Orders: But that alone is true Wisdom, when men acknowledg their Ignorance, (that is, as he in most proper words defines, that Humane wisdom is of small value, or none at all;) and firmly hold, that God alone is wise. Hereupon he declares, that himself had been judged by the Oracle wiser than all other men, for no other reason but this, That he differently from the custom of all others, had no esteem of himself, and thought he knew nothing certain­ly, but that he knew nothing. Then he makes the Author of that his Office or Duty of reprehending and informing Men, to be God: by whose certain command he avows he did whatsoever he had done in that kind. And this Command of God he calls [ [...],] a Spiritual Intelligence, a Voice, a Sign: By those words, in way of excellency, designing not any power of Hu­man Wit, but a certain Divine and extra­ordinary signification; and (as we common­ly [Page 3] call it) Inspiration, whereby he was secretly admonished, what he ought to do, and what not. He calls it Daemonium, a spiritual In­telligence; Because he conceived that Power to come, not from Man, but from God: and otherwise terms the same, Vocem & Signum, in respect of that private admonition, which he affirms hath been given to him by a perspi­cuous Voice, by manifest and true Dreams, and by other ways of Intimation. Thus much we briefly and plainly (according to what we could collect from the words of Plato) observe concerning the Daemonium of Socrates; That we might not be obliged to amuse our selves with the Mysterious Comments of various In­terpreters. By the auspice therefore, and sug­gestions of this his Divine Dictator, Socrates avers, that even from his Childhood he had ordered and governed his whole life, and made it his grand business to convince of Ignorance, Men inflated with the ambitious confidence of Science. From this contagious Fountain he derives that torrent of hatred with which very many of his Fellow-Citizens now sought to overwhelm him; And from thence he deduces his present accusation. Nevertheless, he pro­fesses to be immovably fixed in this resoluti­on, always to obey the Counsel of God, nor ever to leave any part of that his principal duty [Page 4] unperformed, though it should be conjoyn'd with manifest danger of his life: The loss whereof he feared not, nor any thing else, ex­cept this, lest he should be found not to have conformed himself to the Dictamen of God. Resting upon this resolve, he denies that he would by Prayers and Intreaties (as was the manner of the Athenians) beg favour and par­don from his Judges: But commending the issue of his Cause to God, and to the will of his Judges, would constantly persevere in his own determinate course. Therefore when it was left to his own option, whether he would go into exile, or die; he chose rather to die: testify­ing, that even in Death it self, he should not fail of certain Felicity; being fully perswaded that God took care of him and his concern­ments. This was the Condemnation of Socra­tes; from whence Plato endeavours to demon­strate, that he was undeservedly accused of Im­piety. Thus then Socrates suffered Death, for that he refuted the false Doctrines of Men con­cerning Religion: Though it be not to be doubt­ed, but that he was ignorant of the true Reli­gion taught by the sacred word of God. Yet among Ethnics there was this clear testimony extant of an Ethnic Philosopher, to take from them all excuse of Ignorance: Since besides that natural knowledge, which God hath en­graven [Page 5] upon the minds of all men, there ap­peared in a most populous City, and the noblest School of Learning, this eminent witness, en­dowed with this peculiar Gift, that he would rowz up men, sleeping profoundly in vain opi­nion of themselves, and shew them their igno­rance, wherein they were shamefully involved: the knowledge of this matter also being at length disseminated not only through all Greece, but through the whole world, by this writing of Plato. This therefore is the Theme, and this the Oeconomy or Method of this Oration.

THE ORATION.

HOw your minds,His Exordium; wherein he weakneth the credit of his Accusers, by charging them with manifold falshoods. Athenians, are affected and in­clined by the harangue of my Accusers, I know not: but I my self am so sensibly touched with it, that I have almost forgot my self. So fitly and advantagiously for the gaining of belief and perswasion have they spoken: tho (to comprehend all [Page 6] in one word) they have spoken nothing of truth. But among many falshoods they alleaged, I chiefly admire this one, that they have admonished you, diligently to beware lest you be seduced by me; as if I were singularly powerfull in the faculty of speak­ing: and that they have not blusht to urge that, wherein they will soon be found guil­ty of palpable lying, when first I shall be found unfit to speak to you: this seems to me the most impudent of all. Unless per­haps their meaning be,He renounces all eloquence but truth: to engage the bene­volence and atten­tion of the Judges. that he is powerfull in the art of speaking, who speaks truely. For if this be their sense, I profess my self to be an O­rator, but not according to their opinion. But they (as I said) have delivered no­thing of truth; from me on the contrary you shall receive nothing of falshood. And yet I swear by Jove, you shall not from me hear a formal Oration composed of the ele­gances of words, and Ornaments of senten­ces, (as theirs was,) but plain truths ex­pressed in unstudied language and vulgar phrases. But the things I am going to speak, I believe to be equitable and just: nor let any among you expect other from me. For it is not fit that I should at these years, come [Page 7] to you, like a boy, with fiction and Ro­mances.

This one thing I earnest­ly beg and require of you, [...], or Pre-ocupation; where in he excuseth his plain and familiar way of pleading, by his being inconver­sant in Forensian con­troversies, and by his custom, which is equivalent to Law: as also by this, that a Judge ought to consider, not the e­legancy, but truth of a defence. that if you, O Athenians, hear me making my defence in the same way of speech, and manner of reasoning I have used both in the Fo­rum, and at the Tables of the Bankers, (in which, and o­ther places most of you have seen me) you neither won­der thereat, nor raise a tumult thereupon. For the truth of the matter is, this is the first time I appear at your Tribunal, being now more than 60 years of age: so that I may well be a stranger in this way of pleading causes. Allow me therefore the same favour as if I really were a stranger; seeing I shall use both the same words, and the same form of speech, wherein I have been educated. This also I beg of you (and it seems most equi­table you should grant it to me) that you consider not the manner of my pleading, whether it be rude or convenient: but di­ligently examine, and with all possible at­tention of mind perpend, whether the mat­ter or substance of it be just or unjust. For [Page 8] this is the virtue of a Judge; as the virtue of an Orator is, to deliver truths.

The Partition of his plea, according to the diversity of his accusations.First then, O ye Atheni­ans, I am obliged to answer to those lyes, that are in the first place objected to me; and so to my first Accusers: then to my last accusations, and my last Adversaries. For many have accused me to you, and long since in the space of many years; yet have they never delivered a word of truth in all their charges: and these indeed I more fear, than I do Anitus and his fellows, though they likewise press me with the weight of their enmity and malicious com­bination. Yet the others truly are more pressing and more powerful, who have even from your tender age, O men, perswaded you, that the accusations are true, which they objected against me falsly; namely, that there is one Socrates, a wise man for­sooth, and one who searcheth into the na­ture of sublime things, and enquireth into all things under the earth; who can by his Sophistical way of speaking, make a bad speech pass current with the hearers for a good one. These men, O Athenians, ha­ving spread abroad this rumor concerning me, these (I say) are vehement and preva­lent [Page 9] accusers. For they who give ear to these scandals, presently entertain a belief, that such persons as they represent me to be, conversant and curious in the study of Na­tural Causes, hold that there are no Gods. Besides this, the number of my accusers of this sort is great; and their accusations are of a long date, insinuated and ingraffed in­to your minds, in that age which is credu­lous and easie to admit any perswasions, when most of you were boys, or rather lit­tle children: so that they accused me be­hind my back, and while I had no compur­gator, no advocate to vindicate me; and (what is extremely unjust, and unreasona­ble) I was not permitted either to know, or to produce the names of my accusers. On­ly there was a confused whisper, a dark­som muttering in the general, that it was a certain Comical Poet. And they who by envy and calumny traduce me to you, and breed in your minds an odium against me; have so strongly possessed themselves with the crimes objected to me, that they draw others also into the same perswasion: but those no where appear in the light. For I can by no means obtain, that any one of them should be brought hither to confront me, that I might have the liberty and op­portunity [Page 10] to confute him: but am forced, while I make my defence against them, and endeavour to convince them of forgery; to combate as it were in the dark, no man appearing in the Lists to answer me. Know this therefore, and consider with your selves, that I have two sorts of accusers: some who have but even now accused me; others a­gain who have been long versed in this clandestine practise, of whom I speak: and think that I am obliged to make answer to those in the first place. Let it be so then, that I must form a defence for my self, and do my utmost devoir, in this short time al­lowed me, to remove and extirpate that si­nister opinion, which hath for a long time remained deeply rooted in your minds to my prejudice. This I would wish might be effected, to your and my own benefit: for in this my defence, I should desire to ef­fect somewhat more. But that I conceive to be weighty and difficult: nor am I ig­norant what will be the event of my Trial. Yet let the issue be such, as may be grate­full to God; I must obey the Law, and an­swer.

Fetching then the first rise of my wrongs from their Original, let us see in good ear­nest what is that accusation, from whence [Page 11] this Indictment drawn against me, hath proceeded; whereupon Melitus relying thus chargeth me. Let it be so. What did my adversaries charge me with? for their [ [...], i. e.] their Libel of accusation ra­tified on both sides by mutual oath, is to be throughly read.

SOCRATES,The State, and several heads of his first accusation. Contrary to right and equity, doth more curiously investigate those things that are under the Earth and in Hea­ven: and makes a bad speech, by delivering it, good: and teacheth others also the same.

This forsooth is the Libel of the Action, and form of the Indictment. The like unto which you may see in a Comedy of Aristo­phanes, [...]. where is brought in the person of one Socra­tes, who pretends to walk in the air, and playes the Droll in a Farce of many other extravagan­ces. Wherein I am,He disavows that sublime science impu­ted to him. Athe­nians, neither little nor much skilled. Which I speak not out of design to condemn that Art, or any man conversant therein; that I be not by Melitus involved in that crime, and made to undergo his punishment. But true it is, Athenians, I had never any con­verse with things of this kind; whereof I [Page 12] am able to produce many witnesses: and I would intreat you, that you inform each o­ther, and enquire among your selves, who have ever heard me discoursing of any such matters; and there are many present, who have frequently heard me in free and fami­liar conferences. Declare therefore open­ly, whether any of you have ever heard me speaking little or much of these things: and from thence you shall understand, that the like credit is due to other fictions that very many scatter abroad concerning me.

But certainly of these nothing is true.

And denieth that he ever either usur­ped the Authority of a public Teacher, or exacted reward for his private in­struction of youth.Enquire also, whether you have heard from any man, that I ever endeavou­red to teach men, and exact mony: neither is this true. Forasmuch as I ever held it a thing highly meritorious and honorable for a man to teach and instruct others in Learning and Virtue, as Gorgias the Leon­tine, and Prodicus, Ceus, and Hippias the Elean have done. For each of these are a­ble, to what Cities soever they travel, to perswade young men, (and yet it was lawfull for them frankly to converse with whomsoever they liked best of their own Citizens,) that quitting the converse of all [Page 13] others, they would intirely give up them­selves to their instructions, and moreover give them mony, in acknowledgment of the benefit received from their discipline, and to requite the favour. There is here present also another certain man, a Parian, and wise, whose residence in this City was grateful to me. For I by chance lighted upon a cer­tain person, who gave more mony to So­phists, than all others; namely Gallias the Son of Hipponichus; and of him I asked this question. Thou hast two Sons, Gallias. If those thy two Sons were Calves or Colts, doubtless we should have some one set to be their Tutor, and a reward given to him, to teach them, each according to his parti­cular Genius and capacity; (for he should be skilful in Horsmanship, or in Agricul­ture) whereas now tho they be men, thou yet takest no care to provide them a Tea­cher and Governor. Who is there know­ing and expert in this art of Humanity and Civility? I suppose, that being a Father of Sons, thou hast considered of this matter. Is there (said I) any man fit for this charge, or not? and for how much doth he teach? Evenus (answers he) the Parian, O Socra­tes; and his demand is five Attic Minae. And I presently commended Evenus, as a [Page 14] happy man, if he were really endowed with this most usefull art, and taught so studiously and dextrously. Truely I should glory, and boast my self, were I knowing in these things: but I profess my self, Athenians, alto­gether unacquainted with them. Here per­haps some one of you may object; He derives the popular hate oppres­sing him, from his frequent reprehension of men; as if he thought himself wi­ser than all the rest of mankind. but, Socrates, what is the matter then, from whence these criminations have been produced against thee? For unless thou didst often do something very remarkable, singular and very different from the custom of others; so great a ru­mor would not have flown abroad concer­ning thee. For why should this ignominy have faln upon thee, if thou hadst done nothing strange and unvulgar? Tell there­fore what it is, lest we, not understanding the matter, give a rash judgement of thee. Who urges this, may seem to have reason for it. And I therefore will endeavour to lay before you what it is, that hath procured to me both a name and blame. Hear ye then, and tho to some of you I may seem to jest and droll; yet be most confident of this, that I will declare to you the whole truth. For I Athenians, have upon no other ground, [Page 15] but that of some certain Wisdom, acquired this name. But what Wisedom? that per­haps, which is humane wisedom. For with that I seem really to be endowed. These perchance, whom I lately named, may be enriched with some greater wisedom than that which is incident to man. To this I can oppose nothing; for such wisdom I un­derstand not. But whosoever saith this, doth lie, and say it on purpose to raise an odium against me by calumny. Nor be ye Athenians discomposed, if I shall seem to declare to you something that is great and remarkable. For I will deliver nothing from my self, but refer to him who is above all exception, who will himself communicate the same things to you. For of my wisdom, if I have any, such as it is,He justifies his practice of reprehen­ding others, by al­leging the express command of God, whom he ought to obey. I will give you for a wit­ness that Delphic God. Che­rephon ye all well know. He was my familiar com­panion even from the time when we were boys together; and also your Countrey-man: who both fled, and return'd with you: and you cannot but remember of what humour and disposition he was; who vehement, whatsoever he undertok. And indeed when on a time he came to [Page 16] Delphos, he had the boldness to consult the Oracle about this matter. Be not (I beseech you) Athenians, moved to a tumult by what I shall speak. He inquired of the God, if there were any man wiser than my self: and Pythia answered, none was wiser. The truth hereof, the Brother of that Cherephon will attest: for he is dead. Now seriously consider, I pray, why I recount this to you. For I am coming to explain the cause, whence this calumny against me first arose. When I had heard of Cherephons adventure, I thus thought in my mind. What doth the God say? or what doth he signifie by these words? For I esteem not my self to be wise neither little nor much. What then can be his meaning, when he affirms that I am the wisest of men? Lye he doth not, for that is to a God impossible. And long did I remain in doubt, profoundly con­sidering his words: then not without diffi­culty I converted my self to a certain dispo­sition of this kind. I came to one of those who seemed to be wise, in hope I might here convince the saying of the Oracle, and so commonstrate that he, not I (as the God had said) was the wiser. When therefore I had together with him examined the mat­ter, (I need not name the man: he is one [Page 17] of those who are imployed in Governing the Common-wealth, and managing Affairs of State) when (I say) I had conferred with him, somewhat of the like nature, A­thenians, hapned to me. He seemed to me indeed to be accounted wise, both by o­thers, and those many, and by himself chief­ly; but was not really so. Then I endevou­red to demonstrate to him, that though he thought himself wise, yet he was not so in reality. Hereby I fell into the displeasure and ill-will of him, and of very many others who were present: But retiring thence, I thought with my self, that I was wiser than that man, because neither of us seemed to know anything Noble or Excellent: only he (thought I to my self) believes he knows something, when he knows nothing; but I, as I know nothing, so I think I know no­thing. Herein therefore I took my self to be a little wiser of the two: in that I decei­ved not my self with an Opinion that I knew that, whereof really I was ignorant. After this I addressed to another, who seem­ed yet wiser than the first: but found no difference betwixt them, as to wisdom. Whereupon I incurred his hatred also, and that of many of his Admirers. Then I went likewise to others; being sensible of my ill [Page 18] success, and grieved sufficiently therewith, as much fearing lest I might stir up hatred and envy against my self: Nevertheless I conceived my self under an absolute neces­sity of highly valuing the voice of God, and turning my self to all parts, by going to all those who thought they knew something, that in the end I might explore the true sense of the Oracle. But I Swear to you Athenians, [...]; per Canem, by the Dogg­starr; An Oath used by some Grecians, even Philosophers, but probably deri­ved from the old E­gyptians, among whom the Dogg­star, the brightest of all fixed stars was a­dored as a Divine Numen; as well be­cause the Exunda­tion of their Nile began at the rising of that Star, as be­cause they believed their Isis to have been stellified into [...], this Ce­lestial Dogg. (for I must declare the Truth) that while I persu­ed my scrutiny according to the voice of God, I met with the like Fortune; dis­covering, that such who at­tained to the greatest name and glory, seemed to come vastly short of wisdom: but others, accounted inferior to them, were more dispo­sed to, and better qualified for the acquisition of it. 'Tis fit and pertinent, that I shew you my Errors, what great pains I took, to render the Faith and Authority of the Oracle Sacred and indubi­tate with me. After these States-men and Grandees, I addressed my self to Poets, and [Page 19] Writers of Tragedies and Dithyrambios, and others of the same Tribe: as if here I should perspicuously, and by Surprise (as they say) discover, that I was more unskilful, more ignorant than they. Taking therefore their Poems into my hands, and noting those things they seemed to have written with greater subtilty, and higher strains of Wit; I diligently asked them, what they could say, that I might at the same time learn something from them? I blush to tell you the truth, Athenians: but do it I must, though very briefly: all that were present almost spake more favourably of those Po­ems, than they who had made them. So I soon found concerning Poets, that they per­form what they do, not by the power of Wisdom, but by a certain impetus of Na­ture, and fury of Divine incitement; as Prophets fore-tell things by Divine instinct or Enthusiasm, prophesying many Noble and Notable things, but not understanding so much as one word of what they deliver. With the same affection Poets appeared to me to be inspired and incited: and I disco­vered likewise, that they, upon the account of their faculty in Poetry, think themselves the wisest of all men, even in other things; whereof notwithstanding they are utterly [Page 20] ignorant. From these therefore I depar­ted, as from the former, and with the same reason too: thinking my self to excel, as the Politicians, so likewise the Poets. At length I betook my self to Artificers of Mechanic Works: conscious to my self, that in those I knew nothing at all, (I comprehend all in a word) and well understanding, that I should find those plain People to have knowledge of many and excellent things. Nor did my opinion deceive me, for they knew things that I understood not, and were so far wiser than I. Yet even the most eminent Artificers seemed involved in the very same Fault with the Poets; in that they also, because they had shewn themselves great Masters in their Mechanics, would e­very one be accounted most skilful also in other even the greatest matters; and this Fault of theirs wholly darkens the lights of their skill. Wherefore I interrogated my self also, about the sense of the Oracle, whe­ther I had rather be as I was; neither wise with their wisdom, nor unskilful with their unskilfulness: or be, as they are, compara­ted or disposed both wayes; and I answe­red my self and the Oracle, that it was more commodious and profitable to me, to be as I am. From this Disquisition, Athenians, [Page 21] many offences, and those most difficult too, and grievous, have come against me; and thence as many imputations, scandals, and criminations, and calumnies: and so it came to pass, that I was named the wise man. For they who are in my company, daily suppose me to be singularly knowing in those matters, wherein I reprehend and e­vince other mens errors.His Explanation of the sense of the Ora­cle. But it seems, Athenians, that God alone is wise: and the sense of the Oracle this, that Humane wisdom is to be very little or nothing esteemed. And the Oracle expresly nominated Socra­tes for no other reason but this, that by mis­using my name, it might propose me as an example: as if it would say, this man, O Mortals, is the wisest of ye all, who, as Socrates, well knows, that as to wisdom, he is not to be valued at all. Being then of this temper of mind, I to this very day en­quire strictly every where, and according to the words of that Divine Oracle, seek both among my Fellow-Citizens, and Stran­gers, if I can find a man worthy to be repu­ted wise: but when I discern any not to be really wise, truly out of Conformity to God, I clearly demonstrate him to be not wise. And being wholly Devoted to this [Page 22] good Work, I have no leisure allowed me, neither to Transact any public affair of mo­ment, nor to regulate my own Domestic concerns; but am cast into the streights of profound poverty, by reason of that my o­bedience to God. Besides this,Another cause of the vulgar Odium cast upon him, viz. that many Noble youths were delighted with his convincing dis­courses, and imitated him in reproving o­thers, who taking Offence thereat, re­flected upon him, as the corruptor of Youth. some Youths born of most Wealthy Families, and having leisure enough, fol­lowing me of their own Free-will, are highly de­ighted when they hear men reproved and convi­cted by me; and they also, in imitation of me, do them­selves often endeavour to refute others: nor is it to be doubted, but they find a very great multitude of such, who believe themselves to understand and know many things, when yet in truth they know few or none at all. Hereupon these who are refuted, grow angry, not with them, but me: and say, there is one Socra­tes, a man of most impure and dangerous manners, who corrupteth young men: and if any ask them, whether it be by teach­ing or doing any thing unjustifiable, that I corrupt youth; they can alledg nothing in particular, because indeed they know not [Page 23] wherein to instance: nevertheless that they may not seem to be at a loss, they charge me with those imputations that are laid up­on almost all Philosophers, and in every mans mouth, that forsooth I am excessively curious in searching into the nature of things both sublime and under the earth, that I think there are no Gods, and that I can by my So­phistical arguments turn an ill Speech into a good one. They will not (I believe) de­clare the Truth, because they manifestly ap­pear to pretend to know things, whereof notwithstanding they are altogether igno­rant. For they who traduce me, being men ambitious and vehement, many in num­ber, and furnished with Harangues artifici­ally composed to gain belief; they have fil­led your Ear, both heretofore and now, with a charge designed against me. Among these, Melitus, Anytus, and Lycon have assaul­ted me: Melitus on behalf of Poets; Anytus in the name of Artificers and Politicians; Lycon as Champion of Orators, enraged a­gainst me. I should wonder then (as I said in the beginning) if I should be able in so short a time to dissolve such a charge, which made up of so great calumnies, is grown inveterate and hard. These are truths, Athenians; so that I have concealed nothing [Page 24] from you, nor detracted or evaded any the least point, though I well knew I should in­cur their hatred. Which is an Argument, that I speak Truths, and that that is my Crimination, and those the causes of it: and whether now or hereafter you inquire into these things, you shall certainly find them to be as I have represented them to you. Thus far then let this be taken for a full an­swer before you, against the Crimes charged upon me by my first Accusers.

To Melitus, a good man, and (as he saith himself) a lover of his City,Having answered the Articles of his first charge, he now converts to the Se­cond; which he Re­cites. and to my last Adversaries, I will endevour to Answer anon. Mean-while let us resume the Libel of Accusation plotted against me, and ratified by an Oath mutually given and taken by all of the Combination (for some Accusers there are, distinct from the former) which speaks thus.

Socrates, contrary to Right and Equity, doth corrupt Touth; the Gods which the City judgeth to be Gods, he thinks to be no Gods; and introduceth new Powers Divine. This is my Accusation; the Heads whereof let us examine singly.

[Page 25]He saith first, that I do contrary to Right and Equi­ty, in that I corrupt Youth: The first Article thereof; which he dissolves: demon­strating it to be ob­jected to him by Miletus meerly out of malice, not of re­spect to the virtu­ous Education of Youth, which Meli­tus neither under­stood, nor studied. and I affirm that Miletus himself dotth contrary to Right and Equity, in that he Jesteth in a serious mat­tter: while he brings ano­ther into peril of losing his life, pretending himself to be highly solicitous, and to labour excee­dingly about these matters, which have never been any part of his care [perhaps never (unless upon this occasion) in his thoughts:] and that this is so, I will trie to demonstrate to you. Come hither, O Meli­tus, and tell me, dost thou take care of no­thing else, but that young men may become virtuous to the highest degree? Very well. Now tell these, who may make these yong men better: for this thou must needs know, since thou hast so long and deeply conside­red the matter. For me thou hast (as thou saist) taken already corrupting them: and upon that account now violently bringest me, by a studied and formal Accusation, to be judged by these. Tell us then, who may instruct and improve youth in Virtue? inform us, and shew these men who it is. [Page 26] Thou seest, Melitus, thou art silent, and hast not a word to reply: Nor doth it seem to misbecome thee; and so is a just Argument thou never troubledst thy Head with this care: yet tell me, in good earnest, who may make these better? The Laws. Of that I enquire not: but what man, who first hath known also this very thing, namely the Laws. These Judges, Socrates. How sayest thou Melitus? can these teach young men, and refine them? yes. Can all these, or some of them do that work, and others not? All. Thou sayest well, by Juno; and dost commemorate good store of those who are able to help. But what? can these Audi­tors also reform men? They can. And the Senators too? The Senators also. Well then, Melitus; we must now see whether they who make Speeches to the people, corrupt young men, or reform them. And these too. It seems then, Athenians, that all render young men good and honest, except my self, who alone debauch them. Saist thou so? I again and again affirm it. Thou imprintest upon me a brand of great infeli­city indeed: but answer me, hast thou the same Opinion of Horses also? do all men make them better, one only excepted, who corrupts them? or the contrary to this, is [Page 27] there any one who can do it: or few skil­ful in Horsemanship, but on the contrary many, who while they dress, manage and use Horses, wholly spoil them? is it not so of both Horses, and all other Animals? Cer­tainly it is, whether thou and Anytus affirm or deny it. Since young men would at­tain to a certain very high felicity, if there were only one to corrupt them, and all be­sides would improve them, But thou, Me­litus hast sufficiently demonstrated, that thou takest no care of young men: and clearly shewest thy negligence, that thou hast ne­ver laboured in these matters, whereof thou accusest me.The falsitie of the same Article evin­ced also by this; that if Socrates had corrupted Youth, Melitus ought, ac­cording to the pre­script of the Law, first to have privat­ly admonished him, before he had accu­sed him thereof to the Magistrates: but this he had never done: Ergo. Furthermore Melitus, resolve us this que­stion also by Jove; whether it is better to dwell among good and sober Citizens, or among evil and debauch? Answer me, prithee; for I ask nothing difficult. Do not evil men always bring some Evil upon those who live neer them: and on the contrary, good Neighbors bring good? most certainly. Is there any who had rather receive damage from those with whom he converseth, than benefit? [Page 28] Answer, prithee; for the Law commands thee to Answer: Is any willing to suffer De­triment? By no means. Go too then; seeing thou hast hurried me into Judgement, as a corrupter of youth, and Patron of Vice; do I this willingly, or unwillingly? Willingly, as I conceive. What then, Melitus? art thou so much Wiser than I? thou a young man, dost thou? so far excel me an old one, as to understand, that evil men bring evil upon those who chiefly converse with them; but good men bring good? and am I so great a Fool, as not to understand this, that if I debauch any Familiar, I shall be in dan­ger of suffering some Evil from him: and so shall be willing to pull this so great Evil upon my self, as thou saist? Herein, Melitus, I believe thee not, nor (I think) doth any man else. Wherefore either I do not cor­rupt youth, or I do it against my will: so that thou lyest in both. If I corrupt unwil­lingly, the Law forbids all such to be brought hither into Judgment, who have of­fended unwillingly; but commands they be privatly both instructed and admonished. For manifest it is, that upon instruction, I should cease to do what I did against my will: but thou hast avoided and declined to converse with me, and to admonish me; [Page 29] and instead of that, forcest me to this place of Judgement, whither the Law re­quires only such incorrigible Offenders to be brought, who need rather Coercion then admonition. But Athenians, this is evident, what I said before, that Melitus never had any the least care of this matter.

Yet tell us, Melitus, how thou canst prove that I cor­rupt Youth:A soft and smooth Transition to the Se­cond Article; viz. that Socrates held there were no Gods, and introduced o­thers than those the Athenians worship­ped; and a demon­stration thereof to be absurd, and re­pugnant to it self. is it from the form of the indictment thou hast drawn against me; as if I thought those not to be Gods, whom the City holds to be Gods; and in­troduced new Divinities, and by teaching this, cor­rupt Youth? all this I strongly averr. By those very Gods then, whereof we now speak, explain thy self more clearly to me, and to these here present, for I cannot un­derstand, whether thou meanest, that I teach there are no Gods, (and I hold there are some Gods, nor am I truly without God, nor do I in that offend) or that I hold not those to be Gods, that the City believes to be such, but some others. is this that whereof thou accusest me, [Page 30] that I hold there are others? or this, that I hold there are none.

Prithee, Melitus, why saist thou this? do I hold neither the Sun, nor Moon to be Gods,Tis worthy to be observed, that here Socrates doth not plainly deny the Sun and Moon and other Deities of the Ethnics to be Gods; for that had made him guilty; but wisely Eludes the danger, by Trans­ferring that Doctrin upon Anaxagoras; and by reducing his accuser to the point of proving, that he held there was no God, which is impossible. as o­ther men think them to be? Not by Jove, Judges: for the Sun he affirms to be a Stone, and the Moon Earth. Thou thinkest thou accusest Anaxagoras, my Melitus; and so contemnest these here, and supposest them unlearned, and igno­rant that the Books of A­naxagoras Clazomenius are full of such matters. Now would Young men learn from me these Doctrines, which they might sometimes pick up from the Music-room of the Play-house, for not much more than a dragm? I allow thee to laugh at Socrates, if he feigned these Opinions to be his, when they are wholly absurd and foolish. But tell me, by Jove, Melitus,; thinkest thou that I hold there is no God? I think so. Thou speakest things incredible, Melitus; such as neither thy self dost, nor canst be­lieve. This man, Athenians, shews him­self [Page 31] injurious and petulant; and to have brought this accusation meerly for Re­proach, and from impotency of Youthful Malepartness, and distemper of Brain. He seems to have proposed a kind of Riddle, or darksom saying, out of design to tempt me; whether forsooth that Wise man Socrates (saith he) will perceive that I jest, and con­tradict my self: or I can deceive both him and those who hear me? For, this man ap­pears to speak things repugnant each to o­ther, in his very Libel of Accusation: as if he said, Socrates offends in that he thinks there are no Gods. This truly is the part of a mocker.

Consider with me, how he seems to speak this contradiction; and do thou Melitus, an­swer us: and ye remember (as I besought you before) not to be disordered to a Tumult,Another answer from the Hypothesis of his Adversaries. They Object, he pretended to Divine inspiration; and yet charge him with denying Divine pow­eis; which is a mani­fest contradiction. if I speak to you after my usual manner. Is there among Mortals any one man, Melitus, who thinking there are Humane things, can at the same time not think there are Men? Let him answer, Athenians; and let there be no disturbance. Is there any man, Melitus, who holding [Page 22] there is such a thing as Horsemanship, can hold there are no Horses? can he think there are Ministries of Pipers, and Modes and Tunes, but no Pipers? certainly there is no man so void of all sense and reason. If thou refusest to answer, I will answer for thee and others. But answer me this further; is there any who confesseth there are things Divine, and can yet deny the being of Gods? No man. How slow thou art? thou hast hardly afforded an answer, though forced thereunto by these. But dost thou say, that I hold and teach there are Daemoniae [i. certain Divine Powers] whether New or Old? if then, as thou confessest, I hold there are Divine Powers, and I Swear the same in the Bill of my Answer, 'tis of unde­niable necessity, that I hold also there are Daemones, i. e. Gods. Is not this necessary? 'Tis so, for I take thy silence for Confession. But these Daemones, An amplification of the same Argument from hence, that all Relatives imply the Existence each of other. do We conceive them to be Gods, or the Sons of Gods. Dost thou affirm, or deny this? I affirm it. If then I hold there are Daemones, as thou affirmest, if some Gods be Daemones; this is the very thing, wherein I affirm thou dost Jest in obscure Words: when thou saist, I [Page 33] think not that there are Gods, and on the contrary think there are Gods: seeing thou grantest, that I think there are Daemones.

And if these Daemones be the Sons of Gods, Bastards begotten upon either Nymphs, or some others, such as are vulgarly talked of; what man can hold them to be the Sons of Gods, and yet hold that the Gods them­selves are not? for it would be equally ab­surd, as if a man should affirm there are Sons of Horses, or of Asses, Mules; but deny Horses & Asses themselves to be in rerum natura. But Melitus, thou hast formed this Accusation against me, either that thou mightest Experiment my skill in Reasoning, or certainly because thou hadst nothing to object to me as a true crime. Couldst thou perswade any man who hath but a spark of sense and understanding, that the same man can hold there are [ [...], & [...]] Divine things, and yet at the same time deny there are either Daemones, or Gods, or Heroes? this cannot be possible. And so, Athenians, it is not necessary for me further to de­monstrate, that I am not in the least point guilty of the charge contrived by Melitus against me: seeing these particulars seem abundantly cleared and proved.

[Page 34] Having refuted Me­litus in all parts of his Indictment, so that he need not doubt of Absolu­tion from impartial Judges: he yet shews his danger from the prejudice and inve­terate hatred of the people, always insense to good men.Now ye may take it for an evident Truth, that (as I said afore) among the multitude also there was raised up very great hatred against me: and that is it which if any thing do, will take away my life; not Melitus, nor Anitus, but the very Crimination and Odi­um of the people; which hath destroyed many other good men, and will likewise destroy many in times to come; for there is nothing of incommodity, if this plague en­ded in me. But some one may here ask, Art not thou ashamed, Socrates, to undertake this so great an Enterprise, which may bring thee into present danger of Death? and I think I may return him this just Answer. Thou art grosly mistaken whoever thou art,That a virtuous and valiant man is not, even by death it self, deterred from doing his duty; which he confirms by Examples. if thou thinkest that a brave and valiant man makes any dif­ference betwixt, or is at all concerned in life or death, where any, though but little Utility may from thence result: and that he doth not, when he undertakes any Enterprise, throughly consider this, whether he there­in [Page 35] performs Things just or unjust, whether he doth the work of a Good or Ill man. For according to that thy reason, all the Heroes, or Half-Gods who dyed at Troy, were wicked and profligate; as well others, as the Son of Thetis, who that he might suffer nothing of dishonor, so far contemned death, that after his Mother, the Goddess her self, opposing his desire of killing He­ctor, had assured him that if he to Revenge the slaughter of his Friend and Kinsman Patroclus, should kill Hector, he should him­self be slain; in these very words (if I be not mistaken.)

Hector once killed, thou too shalt surely die:

He nevertheless persisted in his Resolu­tion, despising death and danger; he rather feared, lest Surviving, he should be held dis­honest and unfaithful, if he vindicated not the injuries of his Friends; and thereupon instantly retorts. Let me dye punishing an injurious man, lest here exposed to the Laugh­ter and scorn of the Greeks, I sit on Ship-board an unprofitable Burthen of the Earth. Think­est thou that he was concerned in death, or any other danger. Thus it is, Athenians: in what place soever any man is set, either by his own Judgment that it will be best, [Page 36] for most commodious for him, or by com­mand of the Magistrate, he is oblieged therein constantly to persist, whatever dan­ger threatens him; nor is he to consider a­ny other thing so much as this, how he may avoid Dishonor. Truly Athenians, I should in­volve my self in a very great Wickedness, if having hitherto, even to the Hazard of my Life, constantly maintained my station in that place, n which they whom you had constituted my Generals, have set me, whe­ther in Potidaea, or in Amphipolis, or in Deli­um: He argueth a mi [...]o­ri ad wajus, if the Authority of a mor­tal General, be so great, as to oblige all under his Com­mand, to maintain their stations with invincible constan­cy, what ought we to think, of the au­thority of God. I should now at length when God hath ordered and constituted me in that degree [as I have hitherto conceived, and with full perswasion of mind enter­tained that Judgment] that it behoves me to spend my life in Philosophizing; and so to search and throughly examine both my self and others: commit a very hainous sin, if for fear of death, or any other terror, I should abandon my stati­on, and desert my office. And then certainly any man might drag me to judgment with­out injustice, for that I, from fear of death, disobeying the command of the Oracle, [Page 37] held there are no Gods; and for that I thought my self to be wise, when I am not so. For to fear Death, O ye men, is nothing else but for a man to think himself wise, who is far from being so, for he thinks he knows what he doth not know. For no mortal knows, whether Death be not mans great­est good: and yet they fear death, as if they certainly knew it to be of all Evils the greatest. And who sees not, that it is an infamous and shameful ignorance, to think ones self to know that, whereof he is utter­ly ignorant? But I, Athenians, herein very much differ from many men: and if I durst affirm my self wiser than any other in any one thing, it should be in this, that I under­stand nothing concerning the state and con­dition of those below; nor think I know it. This one thing I certainly know; that to do injury to any man, or to rebel against our Superiors, whether God or Men, is sinful and shameful. But as for those things, which I know not whether they be good or evil; certainly I never will either fear or avoid them, rather than those which I certainly know to be evil. If therefore repudiating the 1 [Page 38] Counsel of Anytus, who saith, that either I ought not to have been brought to this judgment at all; or that since I am come hi­ther, you are in prudence obliged to adjudg me to capital punishment: and subjoyns this reason, that if I escape condemnation, it will come to pass, that your Sons eagerly, and with zeal pursuing the Lessons I teach them, will all be wholly corrupted: if (I say) ye should acquit and dismiss me, and say to me, Socrates, at this time we give no credit at all to Anytus, but acquit and discharge thee; yet on this condition that henceforth thou never again meddle with this Disqui­sition, that is, never more Philosophize; and if thou art found to do it, thou shalt cer­tainly be punished with death: if (as I said) ye would acquit me upon these conditions; I should tell ye, that indeed I acknowledg and thank ye for your good will and fa­vour, but choose rather to obey God than you, and that while I live, and am able to do it, I will never cease to Philosophize, and to teach and exhort every one of you whom I shall meet, and after my manner to incul­cate thus. And thou, who also art a Ci­tizen2[Page 39] of Athens, a City both exceeding great, and most renowned, as well for wisdom as power; fearest thou not to undertake the menage and conduct of an affair of importance, and to acquire Honor; that those [advantages] may be accumulated upon thee; and yet takest no care, no consideration of prudence and verity, i. e. of thy own mind, to ren­der it most accomplisht and noble? If any man should desire contentiously to oppugn this my admonition, and affirm, that he doth take care also of those [most excellent] things, [prudence and truth:] I would not presently dismiss him, and go my way; but would interrogate, and by strict examinati­on sift him, and so convince him. If I concei­ved him to be unfurnished with virtue, though he should never so confidently own himself to be therewith adorned; I would rebuke him, and severely tell him, that he hath no esteem for things of greatest mo­ment, but puts too great value upon things vile and contemptible. And this will I do to every man, young or old, Citizen or stran­ger, whomsoever I shall meet: but more stu­diously to Citizens, as you are more neerly related to me. For so (believe me) God commands me to do. Nor do I think a [Page 40] greater good can come to your City,After the divine authority of his commission to re­form men; he here asserts the excellent utility of it. than that I per­form this service to God, For, addicting my self in­tirely to this work, and pre­termitting all other affairs, I walk up and down with no other design but to perswade you, young and old, to esteem neither bodies, nor riches, nor any thing else, before, nor so much as your mind, that it be with all possible speed re­fined to the last degree of goodness. And I give this reason: that Virtue hath not its being from riches; but from Virtue flow both riches, and all other goods, as well privatly as publickly to men. Now if I cor­rupt youth by saying these things, let them be hurtful: but if any one avouches, that I say other things besides these, he saith no­thing. In fine, I shall answer to these things, do ye, Athenians, believe Anytus, or not; discharge me, or not; do according to your pleasure: I will never do any thing but this, though I were to suffer many deaths. Be not disturbed, Athenians, but continue the calm attention I begged of ye; lest you excite a tumult by reason of what I shall speak: but hear me patiently. Which if ye shall do ye will (I think) receive from thence [Page 41] no little emolument. Other things besides I shall speak, that perhaps will move ye to exclame: but pray, forbear to do so. For be well assured, that if ye shall put me to death, me, such a man as I describe myself to be: ye will bring greater loss to your City, to your selves, than to me: for nei­ther shall Melitus, nor Anytus hurt me in the least, nor could they. Since I think it impossible, that a good man should be violated by a wicked man. He will murder me per­haps, or expel, or disgrace me; and he, and some others will account those to be great evils: but I think them not to be such. Nay I rather hold, that to do the actions that he doth, is a great evil indeed: for he attempts to inflict punishment unjustly up­on an innocent man. Now therefore Athe­nians, I am so far from making a Defense for my self (as some may expect) that I will speak rather for your sakes; lest by giving sentence against me, ye hainously sin a­gainst the gift of God that is in me: [...]. Que verba ipsemet Sa [...]ctas Apo­stolus Paulus alicubi emphatice reciuit. for if ye kill me, ye shall not easily find such a­nother, one who (that I may speak truly and can­didly, though bluntly and ridiculously) being by God appointed to [Page 42] the care and oversight of this your City, am constituted supervisor thereof, and Mode­rator; that I might sit upon it, as upon a Horse great and generous indeed, but by reason of his huge bulk, dull and slow, and to be excited by sharp pricks. Exactly so God seems to me, to have placed me over the City, that I may incite ye, and perswade ye, end reprove every Mothers Son of ye, ceasing not daily to sit by [and admonish] every one in every place. Such another [monitor] Athenians, will not easily come to ye: and therefore (if ye believe me, spare me. Though ye perhaps, filled with in­dignation, as men rouzed up from profound sleep, and following the Counsel of Anytus, rejecting mine, shall without remorse put me to death: yet be most confident, you shall spend the remainder of your life in drowsiness, unless God, taking care of ye, shall send some other [to excite ye.] And that I am such a man, by the special favour and bounty of God given to the City, ye may collect from hence. It seems not con­sentaneous 3 [Page 43] to Humane reason, that I, casting away all care of my own private affairs, have so tempered my self, as to endure so many years together in that contempt of my domestic concernments; and wholly ap­ply my self to the administration of yours, by catching hold of, and going unto every one, and as a Father, or elder Brother, incul­cating to ye, that ye should studiously addict your selves to Virtue. If from these advi­ses of mine I received any emolument, or a­ny reward, to my own private uses, and gave them to that end; that would seem to rely upon some probable reason; but ye see, that my very Adversaries themselves, who have impudently forged so many lies against me, could not yet to their highest improbity adjoyn that shameless boldness, either to accuse me, or oppose any witness to me, as if I had exacted or asked a reward from any one at any time. And of this truth, I might bring my poverty as a compe­tent, and (I think) a convincing wit­ness.

Now it may perhaps seem absurd, that I running to and fro to several men, and with extreme diligence busying my self, should give counsel to each one apart; but not dare to address my self in public to the [Page 44] people, to give the same advises to the City.

The reason why he had not addressed his Counsels to the City in general, but only to particular men, viz. that he was forbidden to meddle with the public, by his Dae­monium; (vide Apu­leium de Socratis Daemonio.)The cause of this, is what most of ye have heard from me, oftentimes, in various places. I have something Divine, and a Daemonium, a certain Voice: at which Me­litus indeed in his accusati­on railed expresly. This be­gan with me from a Boy, namely a certain voice, which when it hath been perceptible, al­waies recals me from that thing I was going to do; but never impells me to undertake any thing; this is that which forbids me to interest my self in matters of the State, or of public concernment to the City. And in­deed it seems with admirable prudence to oppose me [therein.] For Athenians, That he might decline the danger im­pendent over all good men, who inte­rest themselves in the administration of State affairs; and so the longer per­form his duty, in reprehending men. if in times past I had taken upon me the administration of Civil af­fairs, truly I had long since perished; so that I could not have been any way useful either to you, or to my self. Be not inflamed with indignation against me speaking the [Page 45] truth; for there is no man, who if he shall ingeniously and boldly oppose either you, or any other people, and hinder the doing of many acts of injustice and impie­ty in a City, can ever be preserved in safe­ty: and whoever sincerely contends for the maintenance of Justice, must be obli­ged, if he desire to live any the least time in peace and safety, to lead a private life, without interessing himself in the admini­stration of public businesses. Hereof I will give you very strong arguments, not words, but (what ye more value) realities and matters of fact.He artesteth his constant adherence to Equity and Ju­stice, even when he thereby incurred present danger of death; and that by many instances yet fresh in the memo­ry of some of his Judges. Hear therefore what hapned to me, that ye may understand, that I have in no respect yeilded to any in the de­fence of what is just, for fear of death; no not when I seemed to incur present danger of destruction, by refusing to yield. I will tell ye things Of­fensive, and pertinent to this way of plead­ing causes in Court, yet true. For, I, Athe­nians, never bore Office in the Common­wealth, yet attained to the dignity of Sena­tor; and our Tribe Antiochis obtained the Lieutenancy of the Supream power, when [Page 46] ye censured ten Military Officers to be con­demned to death, for not burying the slain in a Naval fight, and this against Law, as ye after judged. Then I being one of the Council of Athens opposed you, that ye might not give a judgment contrary to Law; and made a decree contrary to yours, the Orators then ready to call me to the Bar, and appoint a day for my Trial, ye also senting, and by acclamations approving their Indictment: yet I chose rather to be in danger with Law and Justice, than assent to your unjust votes, notwithstanding the terror of imprisonment or death. And these things fell out at that time, when the City was governed by equal Democracy: but when it afterward fell under the domi­nation of a Few, the thirty Tyrants sent me the fifth man to Tholus, that we should bring from Salomine, Leontes, Salaminius, to be put to death, as they commanded many others also, to the end they might derive the envy of their [own] many crimes upon the heads of many others. Then I not by words, but actions, demonstrated, that the fear of death (that I may speak a little roughly and clow­nishly) touched me not: and that my grand care and concernment was, that I might com­mit nothing unjust and impious. Nor truly [Page 47] did the command and government of those Tyrants, however violent and cruel, so ter­rifie me, as to make me do any unjust act. But after we departed from Tholus, four [of the Embassadors] went on to Salamine, and brought away Leontes; and I went home: and perhaps I should for this cause have been put to death, had not that Tyranny been soon after subverted and destroyed: and of these traverses I have many witnesses. Now whether do ye think, that I could have continued safe so many years together, if I had imployed my self in matters belonging to the State: and so deporting my self, as became a good man, had vindicated and maintained just causes, and thereunto seri­ously and studiously devoted all my de­voirs? It had been impossible, Athenians; nor any men else. But truly through the whole course of my life, both publickly if I acted any thing, and privatly, I still have kept to the same rule, never to yeild to any man, neither to other, nor to any one of these, whom my accusers individuously call my Disciples, in any thing contrary to right and equity. Nor have I ever been Precep­tor to any man: but if any were desirous to hear my discourses, whether he were young or old, I never denied him this; nor do I [Page 48] dispute to get money, or if mony be want­ing, less: but with equal freedom offer my self to be interrogated, to the rich and to the poor, and whosoever pleases, hears my answers. If by these my answers and con­ferences, any man hath become either so­ber, and of good and honest conversation, or debaucht and vitious; tis not just, that I should bear the blame thereof; seeing I nei­ther taught, nor promised to teach any man. And if any shall say, he hath learned, or heard from me in private, any thing, that all might not with equal freedom hear: be ye most assured, he speaks most untruly. But the reason why some are delighted with fre­quent and long conversation, ye have heard Athenians. 'Tis wholly this, as I declared; that those who are admitted to my confe­rences, are much pleased to hear such who think themselves to be wise, but are not so, examined and refuted; for this is not un­pleasant. And that I should thus confute such, I affirm to be a duty imposed upon me by God, both by Vaticinations, and by Dreams, and all other waies, whereby Ora­cles are wont to deliver commands. These things, Athenians, are both true, and such as may be easily proved. For if I now of late corrupt some young men, and have long [Page 49] since corrupted others;He appeals to the testimony of some present, who had of­ten heard his mo­ral discourses, whe­ther he had ever endevoured to cor­rupt their minds, or not. it would be probable, that some of those who have arrived at years of more maturity, and the borders of old age, when they come to understand me to have been to them author and adviser of some certain evil, would now rise up against me, and accuse me, and re­quire me to be delivered up to punishment: and if they would not, yet it were fit that some of their Kinsmen, Fathers, or Bro­thers, or others, whether by Affinity or Al­liance nearly related to them, should in case their Kinsmen had suffered any thing of detriment from me, remember the injury, and demand punishment to be inflicted up­on me; but here are many whom I see. First this Crito here, my equal in years, and my Country-man, the Father of this Crito­bulus: then Lysanias the Sphettensian, the Father of this Aeschines: and Antiphon the Cephisensian, Father of Epigenes. These others then, whose Brethren lived with me in this way of conversation familiarly, Nicostratus Son of Zotidas, Brother of Theodotus (but Theodotus is dead, so that he cannot now ask his Brother to impeach me) and this [Page 50] Paralus, Son of Demodicus, whose Brother is Theages; and Adimantus of Ariston, whose Brother here is Plato; and Ae­antidorus, whose Brother is Apollodo­rus, and many others I could shew, of whom it was fit some one at least should have been named as witness by Melitus in his accusation; and if he forgot to do it then, let him produce any one of them now, I will give him leave freely; let him declare whether he hath any matter of this kind. But ye shall find the contrary, Athenians; namely that all these are ready to help and vindicate me, who (say Melitus and Anytus) corrupt and wrong their Kinsmen. Truly, if those whom I have corrupted and infe­cted, should endevour to assist and vindicate me, that would carry a plausible face of rea­son: but if those who have felt no conta­gion of my corruptions, antient men, and by consanguinity neerly related to those whom I have corrupted, stand for and de­fend me; they can seem to be impelled to that defense, by no other reason but what is right and just; that is, because they are conscious that Melitus lyeth, and I speak truth. Let therefore what I have hitherto said, Athenians, and other the like reasons be sufficient for my defense.

[Page 51]But now some one may be offended at me,He professeth not to court the favour, nor to excite the commiseration of his Judges, by the usual arts of pusillani­mous men, when standing at the Barr to receive their sen­tence. if he call to mind, that he being brought into less danger than this of mine is, petiti­oned and courted the Judg­es with many tears, and brought his children hi­ther, to excite pity and commiseration to the height, and brought also to the same purpose many of his Kindred and Friends; but observes me to do no such thing, tho brought into extreme peril of my life: and considering this with himself, become the more inraged and more embittered against me, and so in anger give his vote or sentence for my condemnation. If any of you be thus affected, I will not address to him with prayers and supplications, to mitigate his displeasure; yet think I may with equity and fair reason speak thus to him. I also, O thou very good man, have some Kinsmen; for (as Homer saith) I am not born from an Oak, nor of a stone, but from men. I then have Kinsmen too, Athenians, and three Sons; one a young Lad; two little Boyes; yet I have brought neither of them hither, to begg of ye for their sakes to be favorable to me, and absolve me. What then? will I do none [Page 52] of those [submissive] things? Not of per­tinacious arrogancy, Athe­nians, Yet not out of ob­stinate arrogancy, nor of contempt of his Judges; but only to conserve his own and their honor and dignity. or in contempt of you (& whether I have courage and constancy to suffer death, or not, I shall else­where declare) but to as­sert both my own and your honor and reputation, and so that also of the whole City. It seems to me indecent and dishonest, that I should do any of those [ungenerous] things; I who am of this age, and have acquired (whether deservedly or not) so great a name [for wisdom.] This then I most firmly resolve upon, to do my devoir that Socrates may differ from other men Were those who among you seem to excel, whether in sapience, or in fortitude, or in any other virtue whatsoever, such as ye would have me to be, [afraid of death;] certainly no small disgrace would be there­by fixed upon your City. Some such I have beheld, when they stood here expecting the sentence of death to pass upon them: who though they thought themselves brave fel­lows, yet brought into those streights, com­mitted things dishonorable, even to admi­ration, as thinking they should suffer some grievous misery if they dyed; as if (for­sooth) [Page 53] they should be immortal, if ye put them not to death. These seem to me to bring a shameful mark of ignominy and reproach upon your City: forasmuch as any stranger will hence take occasion of think­ing basely of us, namely that among the A­thenians, even those who as more excellent in virtue, are preferred to places of highest dignity and power in the State, nothing differ from [timorous] Women. These things, Athenians, 'tis not fit ye should do your selves, who have acquired honor and renown, and are highly esteemed [both at home and abroad:] nor ought ye to permit them to be done by us; but rather to make it appear by effect, that ye will rather con­demn him who shall introduce those The­atrical fopperies, and devices to raise com­miseration, into your judgments, and so ex­pose your City to scorn and derision; than him who calmly expects the event of your judgment. Now besides this care we ought to have of the Honor of our City,And because 'tis in­consistent with the duty and oath of a Judge, to admit of supplications for mercy. there is this also ad­joyned, that to me it seems not equal and just, that we should with supplications court the Judg, and by the force and efficacy of those prayers, decline [Page 54] the rigor of his sentence, and so be absol­ved: I think, he is only to be rightly infor­med, and by certain arguments perswaded. For the Judge sits not here, to confer grace and favour, and to shew indulgence; but to judge righteously. To this he is bound by solemn Oath, that according to the best of his understanding, he shall not by grace and favour pervert right, but judge accor­ding to the prescript and form of the Laws. 'Tis not therefore fit, that either ye should accustom your selves, or we be accustomed to perjury: for neither could do it without violation of piety and religion. Do not then, Athenians, require this from me, that I should in your presence perform things which I take to be neither honest, nor just, nor pious; and the rather because I stand here accused by this Melitus of impiety; for should I by begging and intreating endea­vour to induce ye to absolve me, and by [fawning] words as it were compell ye so strictly bound by Oath; truly I should con­vince you to be of opinion, that there are no Gods; and while I defend my self from that false accusation, effectually accuse my self to be guilty thereof, as if I thought there are no Gods. Whereas truly I am far from being of that [absurd] opinion; for I hold [Page 55] Athenians, more certainly than any of my accusers, that there are Gods: and to you, and to God I freely leave the issue of my judgment, that he may determine of me as may be both for my good, and yours.

A new Speech after his Condemnation.

That I may with the less regret and disquiet of mind bear this my disaster,He comforts him­self, both with his prevision of the e­vent of his judge­ment, and with the paucity of Votes con­demning him. name­ly that I am by your Votes condemned; very many things concur to afford me help and consolation; among the rest this chiefly, that this hath not hapned to me o­therwise than I believed and expected; but the number of Votes given on both sides, I more admire. For, I thought I should have been condemned, not by so small, but a much greater excess of Balls: now it ap­pears, that if only thirty Balls had been o­therwise cast, I should have been absolved. From the accusation of Melitus therefore (if I be not mistaken) I am free and clear: nor only that, but this likewise is evident to all, that if Anytus and Lycon had not risen up with a new supplement to accuse me, he had been fined in the sum of a thousand [Page 56] dragms,By the Athenian law a man condem­ned to capital pu­nishment, might chose either exile, or perpetual impri­sonment, or a pecu­niary mulct; which was called [...], a substi­tution, or commuta­tion of punishment. This Socrates refu­seth, and resolves rather to die; as Xenophon also recor­deth of him. Yet briefly recounting his own merits, he affirms himself to deserve from the Athenians, not pu­nishment, but some ample reward an­swerable to his age and office; in parti­cular a pension for his life from the State. for that he had not on his side so much as a fifth part of the Votes. He then hath my life for a Mulct. Let it be so. And with what punishment shall I on the other side think it equal to be mulct'd my self, Atheni­ans? 'tis clear, with that whereof I am worthy. What then? what have I deserved to suffer, or pay, because in my whole life, I have not by idle silence concealed what I knew; but contemned the pursuit of those things that others with all possible contention of mind covet and hunt af­ter, riches and great estates, military commands, public assemblies, and other dig­nities and sodalities confirmed by oaths, fa­ctions also and parties which are frequently made in the City: conceiving my self de­stined to nobler studies, than that flying to the helps and defenses of those [uncertain] things, I should from hence draw the hopes of conserving my self: in fine, I applied not [Page 57] my self to the attainment of such things, which if I had attained, I should have rea­ped from them nothing of utility either to my self, or to you; but made it my chief business, and constant labour, by addressing to every one, to oblige all, by the greatest and noblest of benefits; namely by perswading everyman of you to make it his first care to become virtuous and prudent to the last degree; nor to take greater care about affairs belonging to the City, than the City it self; and that by the same reason, care was to be taken of other mat­ters in the same manner. What therefore is it, that I, being such a man, have deserved to suffer? Some great good certainly, Athe­nians, if ye estimate things according to the dignity, verity, and nature of them, and return a just reward. And in truth there is due to me such a good, as may be suita­ble and convenient to my person. And what is convenient to a man poor and be­nefic, who gives himself wholly up to ad­monishing and urging you on to virtue, and therefore hath need to be exempted from other businesses, that he may freely and without distractions attend that good work? Nothing doubtless is more conve­nient, Athenians, than that he be nourished [Page 58] in theThe public Gra­nary or Storehouse of Corn in Athens. Prytaneum: and this certainly with greater rea­son, than if any of ye had in the Olympic games brought home Victo­ry either from the Horse-race, or Chariots, whether of two or four Horses apiece. For he can but make ye to appear happy; but I, to be really so: and he wants not a relief of aliments or food, but I do. If then, as equity and justice require, a due reward be to be defined and assignd to me; this truly will be my reward, to be fed at the charge of the State in the Prytaneum.

For this his freedom of claiming a main­tenance from the City, he gives this reason; that he can­not assent to an act of injustice, though done against himself.While I say this, perhaps I seem to speak as vainly, as I was thought to speak arrogantly and obstinately afore, when I declared a­gainst that way of moving Judges to commiseration by prayers and supplications. But this, Atheni­ans, is not so: but rather thus. My constant perswasion and resolve is, not to do injury willingly and knowingly to any man living; but I prevail not upon ye to believe this my profession, for the time we speak toge­ther, is but short. When if ye had among ye a Law, such as is in force among other Nations, concerning giving sentence of [Page 59] death, that the space of not only one, but very many daies, should intercede betwixt the hearing of the cause, and pronouncing of Judgment in causes capital: doubtless ye would approve of my reasons and plea: but now in so short a time 'tis not possible to wash off the accusations of so great crimes.

Now being fixed in this resolution,Reasons why he chooseth neither ex­ile, nor imprisonment, nor fine; but death. not to do injury to any, I am very far from doing it to my self; that is, from pronouncing my self guilty of this evil, and assigning to my self some other punishment in lieu thereof. What? shall I, as if I feared to suffer the pu­nishment to which Melitus adjudgeth me, (which I profess not to know whether it be good or evil) choose instead thereof that which I certainly know to be evil, & adjudg and condemn my self to suffer it? Imprison­ment? To what end should I live in prison, perpetually in slavery to the will and com­mand of the Eleven? A pecuniary mulct? and remain in prison until I have paid it? But, as I even now told ye, I have not mony where­with to pay a fine. Shall I suffer Exile? for to this punishment ye will perhaps addict me. Certainly I were much in love with life, Athenians, were I so inconsiderate, as not [Page 60] to be able to see, that if ye my Fellow-Ci­tizens cannot endure the way of my conver­sation and discourses, but think them so of­fensive and hateful to ye, that now ye seek to be freed from them; others will less pa­tiently endure them. I am far from this, Athenians. Wisely should I order my life indeed, if at this age departing from my City, and wandring to and fro in banishment through various Countries, I should prolong a miserable life. So certainly the case stands; wheresoever I shall come, young men will hear me discoursing, as here they do. If I repel them, they will on the other side ex­pel me, and bring their Elders to do so too: if I not repel them, their Parents and Kin­dred will for their sakes expel me. Some man will say perhaps, what? Socrates; be­ing expulsed the City, canst thou not live silent and quiet? What I shall say, is of that na­ture, as hardly to be insinuated into the be­lief of some of ye; for if I tell ye, that for me to be silent, is to resist God, and there­fore it is not possible I should live in quiet; ye will not believe me, as if dissembling the matter in jest. But if I say this also; that it is the supreme happiness of man-kind, dai­ly to discourse of virtue, and of those other [excellent] things, concerning which ye [Page 61] hear me disputing, and examining both my self and others, (for without such scrutiny and examination, life is not life) ye wil not give credit to me; and yet these are most certain truths, Athenians; though such as cannot easily be wrought into your belief. And with the same difficulty truly am I per­swaded to pronounce my self worthy of a­ny punishment. For if I had monies by me, I would condemn my self in such a fine, as I should be able to pay (for that I should account no detriment to me) but I have no mony: unless ye should proportion my fine to my ability; perhaps I should make a shift to pay down a mina The Mina Attica of silver, conteined 25 sicles; and the sicle conteined half an ounce; so that 12 ounces & half make a mina: a sum equal to 25 staters, or Belgic Florens, each of 20 stufers. of silver; and therefore I fine my self at that rate. Plato here, Athenians, and Crito, and Critobulus, and A­pollodorus bid me offer the price of thirty minae; and promise to be sureties for the paiment thereof. This sum therefore I propose for my redemption, and they will be assiduous and competent sureties for the paiment of it.

But now, Athenians, ye shall ere-long suffer ignominy and reproach, brought upon your City by those who desire to defame [Page 62] it;He freely reproach­es the Athenians with their ingrati­tude, and inhumanity towards him. namely that ye have murdered Socrates, a wise man. For tho I be far from a wise man, yet they who seek to cast this disgrace upon ye, will say I am one. Would ye have expe­cted but a little time, I should have preven­ted this your infamy, by dying of my self by the course of nature; for ye see my age, how far it is from [possibility of long] life, how nearly approaching to death. These things I say, not to all of ye, but to those only who have by their Suffrages doomed me to death: and to those I again and again pro­claim the same. Ye think perhaps, Atheni­nians, that I have lost my cause for want of words,And rejoyceth in the Justice of his cause, and of his de­fense. by which I might have incli­ned you to approve of my defense, had I resolved to leave nothing in this matter unalledged, that I might escape punishment; but 'tis not so. I have lost my cause indeed for want, not of words, but of boldness and impudence, and that I was unwilling to speak things that would have been most grateful and pleasant to your ears: in particular, that ye might hear me wailing, and howling, and doing and speak­ing what I think highly unworthy of me; [Page 63] such as ye are accustomed to hear from o­thers. But I even then thought, I was ob­liged to do nothing indecent and dishonest, in order to my evasion from danger: nor doth it now repent me, that I made my de­fense in that manner. Nay I had rather die, having made my defense in this manner, than live by making it in that, [abjectly and poorly.] For neither in Judgement, nor in War,An honorable death is to be preferred to a dishonorable life. ought any man to endea­vour to avoid death by any way or means whatsoever; for in many Battels this is clearly evident, that death may be easily avoided, if a man, throwing away his arms, cast himself a suppliant at the feet of the victorious and pursuing enemy, and begg his life. There are also very ma­ny other arts and shifts of declining danger in all occurrents, and of avoiding of death; if a man will adventure to say and do any thing, [however indecent and dishonora­ble.] To avoid death, is not difficult, Athe­nians: but 'tis very difficult indeed, to avoid improbity, which runs on swifter than death. And now truly I, old and slow, am catcht by one that is slower [by death:] but my accusers, who are vehement and fierce, are overtaken by that which is swifter, by im­probity. [Page 64] And now I go away, by your com­mand to suffer the penalty of death: but these men are by truth it self condemned in the mulct of improbity and injustice. I stand to the punishment appointed for me: and they stand to theirs. And these things ought so to be; and they have, in my opi­on, succeeded conveniently and oppor­tunely.

Now ye who have con­demned me,Converting his Speech to those who had condem­ned him, he predicts the evils to come upon them, for their putting an innocent man to death. Con­cerning the event of which predicti­on, read Diogen. La­ertius, in vita Socra­tis. I desire to fore-tel you, as by Oracle, the calamities that shall come upon ye: for I am now arrived at that [criti­cal] time, wherein men are most able in the faculty of Divining things to come; namely when they are dy­ing. I say then, O ye men, whosoever shall put me to death, that soon after my death, punishments shall overtake ye, much more grievous than the death ye inflict upon me: for thereby ye now design to free your selves from the labour of gi­ving an account of your life: but the e­vent shall be altogether contrary to your expectation, as I affirm. There shall rise up to reprove ye, many, whom hitherto I have [Page 65] repressed, nor have ye felt them: and they shall so much the more severely rebuke ye, by how much the younger ye are; and ye shall be vehemently offended even to in­dignation. For if ye think, by killing men, to restrain and keep under those, who are minded to upbraid and convince ye, that ye take a wrong course to prevent that trouble; and to reproach ye for your dis­honest life: ye are grosly mistaken. For that way of freeing your selves, is neither suffi­ciently efficacious, nor honest: but the best, most honorable, and easiest way is this; not to hinder others, but to render your selves virtuous to the highest degree. Having then thus prophesied to those who have condemned me, I leave them.

But to ye who have ab­solved me,To his Friends, he avows his confi­dence of happiness in his death, and the presignification th reof by his Dae­monium. I shal gladly speak of what hath just now hap­ned; while the Magistrates stay here imployed in other affairs, and I have a short respit, before I depart to the place where I must die; and for so short a time do ye, Athenians, expect me; for no­thing hinders but we may speak together, while we have the liberty. To you who are my Friends, I will declare, what is the [Page 66] signification of this my disaster. For, Judges, (and in calling ye Judges, I do ye but right) there hath hapned to me an accident well worthy admiration. That presaging and prophetie Voice of my Daemonium, frequent to me at several times of my life past, was wont to check and countermand me, even in things of the least moment, if I were a­bout to enterprise any affair imprudently: but now these Occurrents, which ye see, have hapned unto me, which any one might imagine to be evils in extremity: and yet that sign of God hath not contradicted me, neither in the morning when I came forth, nor when I ascended into the Pulpit [or pleading chair] nor in my speech, what­soever I was delivering. In other speeches, it did often interrupt me: but now in this action, it no waies opposed me in any thing I said or did. And what do I conceive to be the reason of this? I will explain it to ye. This event [of my condemnation] is very happy to me. We are not just Estimators of things, whoever of us think death to be an evil. Hereof, this hath been to me a great argument; for doubtless that usual sign would have resisted me, if I had gone about any thing but what was truly good. Thus we may with certain judgment deter­mine [Page 67] of the matter.That to good men, there can be nothing of evil in death; he proves by this Di­lemma. Either all sense is extinguished by death; or mens Souls remain after death. If there be no sense, there must be eternal quiet; if the Soul survive, then there must be a state of extreme felicity to the Souls of good men, in the society of the Blessed. Hence Seneca seems to have borrowed that two edged ar­gument against fear of death: Mors nos aut consumit, aut emittit; emissis me­liora restant, onere detracto; consamptis nihil restat. Epist. 24. A strong hope possesses me, 'tis happy for me, that I am sent to death; for one of these two is absolutely ne­cessary; Either death utterly deprives us of all sense, or by death we pass from hence to another place. Where­fore, whether all sense be extinguished, and death be like that sleep, which some­times brings most calm qui­et, without the [deluding] phantasms of Dreams; good Gods, what advantage it is to die! for I think, if any man were obliged to take particular notice of, and set apart that night, in which he slept so profoundly and quietly, as not to be sensible of any the least disturbance from dreams; and then comparing it with all other nights, yea and daies too, of his whole life past, would ob­serve, which of all those nights or daies he had passed more sweetly and pleasantly; I am of opinion, that not only a man of pri­vate and humble condition, but even the [Page 68] greatest of Kings, would find such nights to be easily numerable, in comparison of other whether daies or nights. If then death be but like such a sound and undisturbed sleep, I call it gain or advantage: for all time seems to be nothing more than one night. But if it be true (as [wise] men have affirmed and taught) that death is a passing hence into those places or regions, which the deceased inhabit: 'tis more happy for thee, when thou shalt have escaped from those who will have themselves to be accounted Judg­es, to come to those who are rightly called Judges, and who are said there to sit in judgment, Minos, and Radamanthus, and Aeacus, and Triptolemus, and all other Demi­gods, who lived justly and with faith. Is such a change, such a migration as this, to be va­lued at nothing? Then to converse with Orpheus, and Musaeus, and Hesiod and Homer; who of us would not prefer such a state of life to that of this? For my part, I would die, if it were possible, many times over, to find the satisfactions I speak of. How much shall I be delighted, when I shall meet with Palamedes, with Ajax the Son of Tela­mon, and others circumvented by judgment of unjust men, and compare their cases with my own? This, I think, will not be unplea­sant: [Page 69] but this will be most pleasant, there al­so to find one who examines and tries every one who is wise; and who thinks himself wise, but is not so: how much rather, Judg­es, will a man find out him, who brought a numerous Army against Troy, or Ʋlisses, or Sysiphus, or very many others both men and Women? with whom freely to talk and converse, to compare opinions, and make inquiries, is a thing of vast and infinite wisdom. And yet they who are there, are not put to death for so doing; and are in many other respects far happier than these our Citizens, and for ever after immortal: if at least those things that are said [of the state of the Soul after death] be true.

But it becomes you also,This he saith, not from doubt, but from the supposition of the people with whom he had then to do. For, as to his own perswasion, he held nothing so firm and certain, as the immortality of mens minds or souls. With the same cau­tion Seneca also saith; & fortasse (si­modo sapient on vera sama est, recipita; nos locus aliquis) quem putamne perisse, premissas est. Epist. 63. O ye Judges, to conceive noble hopes of death, and to be fully perswaded in your minds of the verity of this, that nothing of evill can e­ver come to a good man, nei­ther living nor dead: and that his concerns are never neglected by the Gods. Nor [Page 70] have these things hapned to me by chance: but certain and evident it is to me, that to die, and to be freed from businesses, is better and more conducible to me. And for this reason, that Divine sign hath not at all aver­ted me: Nor am I angry either with my Judges who condemned me, or with my Accusers; though they condemned and ac­cused me not with design to render my con­dition more happy and tranquill; but thinking thereby to bring some great in­commodity or calamity upon me; wherein I have just cause to complain of them. But this only I begg of them,In fine he recom­mends to his Judges the tuition of his Sons; with this re­quest, that they might be instructed rather to seek after virtue, than to accu­mulate riches. that if my Sons, when they are grown up, be trouble­some to them in the same matters wherein I have disquieted and offended them, they would severely punish them: chiefly if they seem to take more care either of riches, or the like [transitory] thing, than of virtues they seem to be something, when they are nothing; I would have ye reprehend and convince them, as I have reprehended you: if they neglect things necessary, to be soli­citous about things unnecessary, and pre­tend to be what they are not; sharply re­prove [Page 71] them. Which if ye shall do, both I and my Sons shal obtain from you a just and lawful benefit. But 'tis now time to de­part; I to my death, ye to life; and whe­ther of the two is better, I think is known only to God.

The End of Socrates his Apology.

AXIOMS MORAL. Collected out of Socrates his Apology.

1. A Judge is to consider, not the Elegancy, but Truth of what is said before him.

2. The good Education of Youth, is of very great Importance to the Common-wealth.

3. Humane wisdom is not to be much valued▪ because God alone is truly wise; and among men, he only deserves to be reputed wise, who con­scious of his own ignorance, profes­seth [Page 72] to know nothing certainly, but that he knows nothing.

4. The Station and Office that God hath assigned to us in this Life, we are to defend and maintain, tho we thereby incur the greatest incom­modities and dangers: and we ought to have no consideration either of death, or any other terror, when Shame and Dishonour is to be avoi­ded. Nor are those things to be fea­red, which we do not certainly know to be Evil: but only those which we do certainly know to be Evil, name­ly not to obey the Commands of God, and to do unjustly.

5. To be conversant in Affairs of State, A precept deli­vered also by Epicu­rus, [...], non ad rem publicam accessurum Sapientem, and in­culcated even by Cicero himself; Omnia suâ causâ facere sapientes; Remp. capessere hominem non oportere, &c. Orat. pro Sext. is full of dan­ger.

6. It is both indecent and unjust, for Judges [Page 73] to be moved and seduced by the Charms of Eloquence or Tears: for they ought to be [ [...] & [...]] no respecters of persons, and without passion: and so to give judg­ment, not from their own affections, but from the merit of the Cause, and according to Law.

7. An honorable Death is alwaies to be preferred to a dishonorable Life.

8. Since God takes care of human Affairs, and chiefly of Good men: no Evil can come to Good men, neither living nor dead.

9. We are not to be immoderate­ly angry with our Enemies, nor to hate them, although guilty of Crimes against us, and certainly to suffer the punishments reserved for them.

A DIALOGUE Concerning the Immortality of Mans Rational Soul. AND Admirable Constancy of SOCRATES at his Death.

The ARGUMENT Out of SERRANƲS.

PLATO here introduceth Phedo, re­counting to Echecrates, the Philoso­phical Discourses delivered by Socra­tes, the very day wherein he suffered death by a draught of poyson: wherein he shewed both his invincible magnanimity in embracing death with perfect tranquility of mind; and his most certain perswasion of the immortality of the Rational Soul. By this eminent Ex­ample then, and from the mouth of that true Hero at that time encountring that Gyant [Page 75] of Terrors, death (when the judgment and sayings of men much inferior to Socrates, in point of wisdom, are commonly reputed Ora­culous) Plato proves the Humane Soul to be immortal, and declares his opinion concerning the state and condition thereof, after its separa­tion from the body.

The Thesis therefore, or capital design of this Dialogue, seems to be two-fold: first to evince, that death ought to be contemned; and then that the Soul is, by the prerogative of its nature exempt from the power of death. And from the latter, as the more no­ble and august part, the whole Dialogue bor­rows its Title [ [...]] de Animo, of the Soul.

The Contents thereof are partly moral; in that it teaches the contempt of death, and con­stant adherence to virtue; partly Metaphysi­cal, or Theological; for that it treats of the excellency of the Soul, and of God. To these are added also Ornamental parts, viz. a de­cent Introduction, and accurate Narration of the remarkable manner and circumstances of Socrates his death.

Of these so various parts, the Oeconomy or Order is concisely this. Some Philosophers, Friends to Socrates, visiting him in the pri­son, the last day of his life, and talking fami­liarly [Page 76] together: the clue of their conference oon leads them to this useful question; Whe­ther a wise man ought to fear death? Of this, Socrates first disputing with less cogent Reasons, and transiently determining that other doubt, Whether it be lawful for a man to kill himself? opportunely, and after his grave way of arguing, resumes & proceeds in the former enquiry about despising death. Concern­ing which the summe of his reasoning is this. Since the principal duty of a Philosopher is, daily to meditate upon Death, i. e. to with­draw and divide his Mind or Soul from his body, and the exorbitant desires thereof, (and death is defined to be only a separation of the Soul from the Body) and that after this frail and mortal life is at an end, there remains a full and solid felicity to be enjoyed by those who have here truly and sincerly embraced the study of Wisdom: there is no reason why he should fear death, but good cause rather why he should wish and long for it: because being thereby freed and secured from all importune and insatiable lusts of the body, wherewith the Soul is here intangled and fettered; he should instantly pass to a second and better life, and therein attain to a full and perfect knowledg of Wisdom. Which he now remonstrates, he most assuredly expected to enjoy immediatly after [Page 77] his death, and so, his body being dissolved, to become consummately happy: So from the con­sequence of this conclusion, there naturally a­riseth a new dispute, about the Souls surviving the Body. For, if the Soul exist not after death, all dissertation concerning future feli­city or infelicity, must be vain and ab­surd.

Of this most important conference about the immortality of the Soul, there are three parts: One positively asserts the Soul to be essentially immortal: the Second refutes the contrary opinions: the Third teaches the use and ad­vantages of the belief of the Souls immor­tality.

The FIRST part then of this excellent Do­ctrine of Plato (and of Socrates too, from whom he seems to have learned it) concerning the Souls immortality, is Apodictical or De­monstrative. And yet he so prudently and circumspectly manages his forces, as to begin the combat with a Forlorn of lighter Reasons; and then bring up as it were a phalanx of stronger and more pressing arguments, to assure the Victory: which indeed is his proper and peculiar method of convincing. His lighter Reasons he advances, partly from the Doctrine of the Pythagoreans, of the transmigrati­on of Souls into new bodies, which they cal­led [Page 78] [ [...]] Transanimation, and [ [...]] Transcorporation: partly from his private conceipt, that knowledge is but memory, and to learn only to remember. From these opinions (I say) conjoyn'd into one complex argument, he concludes, first that the Soul was existent by it self, before it came to be guest or inmate to the body; and then that the same will exist also apart, when separated from that its Lodging or Inne, and is therefore immortal. His more solid and Nervous ar­guments, by which he more accurately and con­vincingly demonstrates the Souls eternal subsi­stence, are drawn from the very essence of the Soul it self, viz. that being simple or void of composition, it must by necessary consequence be also indissoluble or incapable of destruction. For, presuming it to be made after the Exem­plar or Image of God, who is Simple, Pure, Immutable, Invisible: he thence infers, that the Soul is [ [...]] congenial and homogenial to God, i. e. likewise uncompound, invisible, immortal: in fine, that it is (suo tamen modo) of the same nature with the Su­pream Being, which he calls [...], that is God. Hence he concludes, that though the Soul, while obliged to sojourn in the Body, be necessitated to use the ministry and service of its various Organs; and [Page 79] so be neerly affected with the passions and other alterations incident thereunto, by reason of the close conjunction betwixt them: yet notwith­standing, upon the dissolution of that ligue or conjunction, it doth instantly fly away, and re­turn to that its primary and cognate Idea, God: in the mean time still conserving its own simple, incorruptible nature. And this is the substance of the first part of this sublime dispute.

The SECOND is a Refutation of Opinions impugning the immortality of the Soul: which are chiefly two; One, that affirms the Soul to be an Harmony, that is originally composed, and resulting from the conformation and sy­stem of the corporeal senses: and therefore as it hath its beginning from, so it must also pe­rish together with the body. Another, which allows the Soul to be indeed more lasting than the Body, and so to survive it; yet will not have it to be indissoluble, but to decay by de­grees, and at length utterly to perish, from its own natural weakness. This last Error Plato, in the person of Socrates, solidly refutes; fur­ther alledging, that the Immortality of the Soul is clearly manifest even from the true no­tion of Causes, i. e. of a Primary cause, namely God; and of Second or proxim cau­ses, by right reason duly investigated. Where [Page 80] he opportunely evinceth it to be highly unreaso­nable, so to acquiesce in the re-search of se­cond causes, as to relinquish the first and prin­cipal: and then proceeds to teach, that there are two kindes of Causes; one, principal, or Supreme, and in truth cause of all Causes, which gave both being and efficacy to all o­thers; Others, Secondary, which are not truly [ [...]] Causes, but only [ [...]] Adjuvants, impowred, disposed, and regulated by the first, all such as God hath made subordinate to him­self, to the end that the virtue and energy of his power might extend even to us. From the Reasons therefore of these different Causes, Pla­to infers the Soul to be immortal. Whence by a genuine transition, he proceeds to the

THIRD part of the Disputation or Confe­rence, which concerns the state or condition of the Soul, after this shaddow of life is vanish­ed, or (as he saith) apud inferos; thereby un­derstanding [ [...]] a second Life, whereof he treats more amply in Timaeo; in this arguing thus. Seeing that in this tumul­tuous Life, there every day arise infinite disor­ders in Humane affairs, and events apparent­ly inconsistent with Equity and Justice; so that good and pious men suffer various affli­ctions and oppressions; and on the contrary, unrighteous and impious men flourish in de­lights [Page 81] and prosperity: reason requires, that af­ter this scene of Inequality is withdrawn, after this Life (the use whereof is in common to all men, both good and evil) is expired, there should succeed another, wherein is to be made a just distinction of the good from the bad, that so these may be adjudged to condign punishment, and those rewarded with felicity, according to their deserts. And hence he collects, that there are but two paths wherein all Mor­tals walk: One leading to eternal happiness, the other to endless misery. Thus much this our wise Ethnic plainly discerned by the meer light of nature, by right reason: more he could not perceive without rayes of light supernatu­ral. We are not therefore to arraign him of ignorance, but rather to applaud his singular modesty, in that in the close of his discourse about rewards and punishments after death, he adventures upon no conjectural descriptions of the places, qualities, degrees, &c. of either: but leaving all such to Poets, ingeniously professeth, he thought it not to be the part of a man endow­ed with sound Judgment, to affirm any thing concerning those inscrutable secrets, and re­serves of Divine Justice. Only he held it ne­cessary, that the minds of men be deeply im­bued with established and certain perswasions of rewards and punishments to come: that [Page 82] so they may be inflamed with love of Virtue, which he defines to be the true and only way to future felicity; and reclaimed from Vice, the high way to future infelicity. And this he declares to be the use and advantage of his Doctrine of the Souls immortality: namely, that we may be induced to learn, and assidu­ously fellow the way that leads to that happy life; and carefully avoid that of misery. The former he defines to be true and solid know­ledg of Wisdom: the Noblest part whereof is this, that Divorcing and Alienating our mind from all commerce with corporeal affections, and sensual pleasures; we fix it intirely upon the contemplation of God, and hold it per­petually exercised in that Divine Medita­tion.

This being the great duty of man, and most satisfactory imployment of a Reasonable Soul; he opportunely admonisheth every one, to make it also his principal care and study, to be dili­gently conversant therein: alwaies animating himself with this noblest of hopes, that after the short and anxious race of this life is finished, he shall infallibly attain unto that immortal Happiness, of which he hath now discoursed. And to fringe this his long Web of Speculations Philosophical, with a grateful reflection upon the Heroic Virtues of his martyr'd Master, [Page 83] Socrates; after a concise Historical Narra­tion of the manner and circumstances of his Death; he concludes with this glorious Cha­racter of him; that notwithstanding he had been Oppressed and Condemned by the envy and inhumanity of the Athenians, he was in truth the Wisest, and most Virtuous of all Man-kind.

PHEDON. Persons of the Dialogue; Echecrates, Phedon, Apollodorus, So­crates, Cebes, Simmias, Crito, Ex­ecutioner.

EChecrat.

The Proem, wherein Plato, observing the Decorum proper to Dialogues, and by natural consequence of the discourse, ler­ding the mind to his grand argument here discussed. first recounts the circumstances that are per­tinent thereunto, viz. when Socrates was put to death, who were then pre­sent, and upon what occasion this Dispute concerning the Soul arose.Were you, Phedon, present with Socrates, that very day wherein he drank the poyson in the Prison? or have you heard it from some other?

Phe.

I was then present, Echecrates.

Ech.

And what said that [brave] man before his death? what end made he? for that I would willingly hear. But yet none of the Phliasians hath of late gone to Athens, nor any stranger [Page 85] come from thence to us, who could relate any thing of certainty concerning these matters; only they report him to be dead by a draught of poyson; but nothing more.

Phe.

Have ye not heard what men said of his Judgement, how that was ordered and managed?

Ech.

That we have indeed heard; for a certain man gave us a narration thereof: But this seemed wonderfully strange to us, that his arraignment and condemnation be­ing past a good while since, he should be re­ported to suffer death after so long a respit. What was the reason of this, Phedo?

Phe.

A certain accident intervened, Eche­crates; it hapned, that the very next day af­ter Judgment had been given upon him, the stern of the sacred ship, which the Athenians annually send to Delos, was with usual pomp and solemnity Crown'd.

Ech.

What Ship is that?

Phe.

That wherein (as the Athenians say) Theseus long ago brought those fourteen young men into Crete, and saved both them and himself: and they then made a Vow (as the tradition goes) that if they returned in safety, they would yearly celebrate a Feast, and offer Sacrifice to Apollo in Delos, in me­mory [Page 86] of their preservation, which they call [...], the Sacrifice of Inspection, and every year Solemnize, by sending that ship thither. Now when they have begun the celebra­tion of this Feast of Inspection, 'tis by law provided, that the City be in the mean time expiated, and no man put to death by pub­lic decree, until the Ship hath been at Delos, and is returned home again: in which Voy­age sometimes long time is spent, especially when they meet with contrary Winds. The beginning of this Inspection is, when the Priest of Apollo crowns the stern of the ship: and this fell out to be performed upon the very day wherein (as I said) Judgment was given upon Socrates. Which is the reason why so long a time intervened betwixt his condemnation and death; he being all that while kept in prison.

Ech.

But what of his death, Phedon? what were his speeches and actions? were any of his Kindred and Friends with him? did the Magistrates permit them to be present, or died he alone, deprived of their com­pany?

Phe.

They did permit them: and there were with him some, yea many of his Friends.

Ech.

Well then, I pray, do your devoir [Page 87] to recount us the whole matter fully and plainly; if at least your leisure will per­mit.

Phe.

I have leisure, and will endeavour to give ye the best account I can, of all pas­sages. For to remember Socrates, and to speak my self, or hear another speak of him, is the most delightful entertainment in the world.

Ech.

And you shall find us also, Phedon, in the same manner affected and disposed to hear you. Wherefore go on, and do your best to relate the whole story.

Phe.

Truly being then present, I was affe­cted in a very strange manner: For commi­seration moved me not at all, as being pre­sent at the death of a man nearly Related to me: For to me he seemed happy, Eche­crates, both by his deportment, and by his serene conformity, and also by his discour­ses: so undauntedly and bravely he submit­ted to death, that it then came into my mind that he descended not to the shades below, without some Divine power, and therefore would when he came thither, live in happi­ness, if ever any man else did. I did not then much pitty him, as became one that was spe­ctator of so sad and doleful a Tragedy: nor was I on the other side sensible of that plea­sure, [Page 88] wherewith we were wont to be affe­cted, when we were seriously imployed in Philosophical conferences, though at that very time also we were earnestly occupied in such: but was variously agitated by a disagreeable and contrary passion. A certain unusual pleasure mixt with grief, surprised me, thinking he was so soon to die. And all we who were present, felt the same confusi­on of opposite affections, now smiling, now weeping, especially Apollodorus: you know the man, and his manners.

Esch.

I know him well.

Phe.

In this manner was he then disposed: but truly I and others were perturbed.

Elch.

Who were there, Phedon?

Phe.

Of our Citizens, there were this Apollodorus, and Critobulus, and his Father Crito: Hermogenes also, and Epigenes, and Aeschines, and Antisthenes, with Ctesippus the Paeanian, and Menexenus, and some other of the Natives: but Plato, I think, was sick.

Ech.

Were there any strangers with him?

Phe.

There were. Simmias the Theban, and Cebes, and Phaedonides: and Euclid, and Terpsion, Megarensians.

Ech.

What? was not Aristippus there, and Cleombrotus?

Phe.
[Page 89]

No; 'twas said, they were in Aegi­na.

Ech.

Was any other there?

Phe.

Those whom I have named, were all.

Ech.

Well, what discourses passed among them?

Phe.

I will endeavour to recount to ye all that passed from first to last. In the daies precedent, I and some others were wont to visit Socrates frequently: meeting toge­ther early in the morning, in the Judgment Hall, where his cause had been tried, for it stood next to the prison. There we daily expected, until the prison doors were ope­ned; passing the time in walking and talk­ing together the while, for 'twas pretty late before the prison was opened. When the doors were unlocked, we went in to Socrates, and many times passed the whole day with him. On the day of his Suffer­ing, we came to visit him earlier than we used: for the day before, when we retired from the prison in the evening, we had heard, that the sacred ship was arrived from Delos: and thereupon agreed among our selves to come to Socrates sooner than our custom was, and indeed we did so: but the Door-keeper, who formerly used to obey [Page 90] us, came forth, and bid us have patience a while, nor to enter till he called us. For now (saith he) the Eleven Officers are taking off Socrates his Fetters, having commanded that he Die this day. So after a short stay, he returned, and gave us admittance: Being entred, we found Socrates unfettered, and Xantippe (whom you know) holding an In­fant in her arms, and sitting by Socrates. Ha­ving seen, and saluted us, and said some such things as Women use to speak [out of ci­vility] now Socrates, saith she, this is the last time your Friends shall speak to you, and you to them: and he turning his eyes upon Crito, I desire Crito, said he, that one of you would lead away this Woman into some other place. Her therefore weeping and lamenting, the Servants of Crito led away. But Socrates sitting upon a little Bed, with one legg resting upon his other thigh, rub­bed his legg, saying the while; how absurd dos that seem, which men call pleasant!Socrates, upon oc­casion of the plea­sure he felt in his leggs, soon after his Fetters had been ta­ken off, reflects upon the affinity betwixt pleasure and pain, and their vicissitude; intimating, that the condition of human life is such, as to be led in a round of pleasure and pain alternately succeeding. and how won­derfully strange is the na­ture of whats unpleasant, so as to be perceived contra­ry [Page 91] to what's pleasant! so that nature would not have a man affected with both at once; but if any man pursue, and take one of them, he is compelled for the most part to take the other also; as if they were both fitly contained in one head; and I believe that Aesop, if he had taken notice of the thing, would have composed a Fable of it, namely, that God, when he attempted to re­concile these two Enemies, Pleasure and Pain, making War each against other, but could not effect it, bound their heads toge­ther, so that where either comes, the other also must follow, as seemed to me even now; for while my Fetters were upon my leggs, I had pain there, and the pain vanishing away upon the remove of my Fetters, pleasure seems immediatly to succeed it. And you have opportunely put me in mind of this, answered Cebes, by Jove, Socrates; for a good while since many have asked me, and Eve­nus lately, concerning the Poems you have of late made, particularly the Fables of Aesop, you have turned into Verses, and a Hymn to Apollo: for what reason you com­posed those Poems, since you came into this place, when you never before addicted your self to Poetry. If therefore you will have me give an answer to Evenus, when he [Page 92] shall again interrogate me (as I am confi­dent he will) tell me, I pray, what answer I shall make to him. Tell him, replies So­crates, Another occasional reflection touching some poetical Es­saies made by So­crates, during the time of his impri­sonment; whereof he gives this reason, that having been by Dreams frequently admonished, to learn Music; and be­ing doubtful, whe­ther the music of philosophy, to which he had alwaies stu­diously addicted himself, or that of poetry were thereby meant, he thought it his duty, before his departure, to compose Verses, lest he might offend, by omitting to fulfil that Divine com­mand in this sense also. the truth, Cebes: that I have done this, not out of design to emulate him and his Writings, (for that I know would be extream­ly difficult) but to make tri­al, what might be the sense of some Dreams, and to know if they injoyn'd me this kind of Music. For very often heretofore in my life, the same Dream occurred to me; when appearing to me sometimes in this, some­times in that figure or re­presentation, it still inculca­ted to me the same thing: alwaies saying, study Music Socrates, and practise it. And I thought what I did in the past time of my life, to be the very thing that my Dream commanded, and by reiterated Injunctions urged: and as they who by repeated shouts incite men running a race, so I thought my Dream did the same to me, by frequent admonitions [Page 93] inculcating its command, that I should ap­ply my self to Music; for as much as Philo­sophy is the noblest and most excellent Mu­sic. While I did this, and sentence of death had now been pronounced against me, and the Feast of Apollo forbad me to die: I thought fit by no means to disobey the in­junction of my Dream, even though I inter­preted it to concern the vulgar Music: but to do according to the prescript thereof. For I thought it safer, not to depart from hence, before I had in that manner also, to some degree performed my Vow; obeying my Dream, by making Verses. The first Poem I made therefore, was to that God whose Feast this was.The beginning of this Hymn. Diogen. Laertius recites, in vita Socrat. Af­ter that devout care of God, conceiving it decent for a Poet, if he ought to be reputed worthy of that name, to compose Fables, not Orations; and being my self unskilful in the art of inven­ting Fables: I therefore made an Essay up­on the Fables of Aesop, which I had by me, and knew, of those that first came to hand.

This, Cebes, The occasion of the following dispute, deduced naturally from the clue of the conference. Let Eve­nus folfow me (saith Socrates) in death; for being he is a philosopher, he ought neither to kill him­self, nor to fear death. Hence are started two Questionr; Whe­ther Self-murder be a crime? and how a philosopher stands ob­liged not to fear death? Now this Evenus was a So­phist, fond of the pleasures of this life, and an adversa­ry to the Doctrine of Socrates; and therefore fit to be answered by him thus ironically, after the usual manner of Socrates. I would have you report to Evenus: and wish him health, bidding [Page 94] him, if he be wise, to fol­low me; for I go hence, as I think, this very day, the Athenians so commanding. Here Simmias interrupts him, saying, what advice is that, Socrates, you give to Evenus? I have had con­versation with him a long time; but as much as I can fore-see, he will not be ve­ry forward to follow your counsel in this particular. What, saith Socrates, is not Evenus a Philosopher? He seems to be one, replies Simmias: and therefore saith Socrates, he & whoever else embraceth the study of Philosophy, as he ought, will not decline death, and yet will not think himself ob­liged to lay violent hands upon himself; for this they say, is no waies lawful. And say­ing this, he let down his leggs from the lit­tle Bed to the ground, and sitting in that posture, pursued the remainder of his dis­course. Cebes asked him then, what say you, Socrates? that it is a crime for a man to lay violent hands upon himself; and yet [Page 95] that a Philosopher is willing to follow him who dies? To whom Socrates; what, Cebes? have ye, you and Simmias, heard nothing concerning these matters, after so familiar conversation with Philolaus? Nothing, So­crates, I assure you. What I have heard, it will not be ungrateful to me to recount, see­ing nothing seems more agreeable to him who is ready to set forth towards some place, than to meditate upon, and speak of what concerns either his Journey, or the condition he expects to be in at the end of it, such as we are able to conceive before­hand: and of what Subject can we more usefully discourse, until the setting of the Sun? Now as for what they say, that it is criminal to kill ones self; that indeed I have long since heard, not only from Philolaus (as you asked me) when he lived among us, but from some others also, that it is a ne­farious act: but why it should be such, I have understood nothing of certainty from any.The first question, Whether self-murder be criminal, or not; argued Socratically, that is pro and con; and then determined by these two fundamental reasons; God takes care of us; and we are his by right of possession; there­fore tis double impiety to lay violent hands upon our selves. But be of good cou­rage [replies Socrates] per­haps you shall hear the rea­son by and by. Mean while [Page 96] this perchance may seem strange, that this among other things should be universally true, without exception; that no calamity can befal a man so great and intollerable, as that it may be better for him to die, than to live: and to men in such a case, is it incon­venient to affirm, that it is impiety in them, rather to confer this benefit upon them­selves, than to expect it from the hand of a­nother? And Cebes gently smiling, be it known to Jove, said he in his own Dialect, [...], pro [...]. you have said well. So it seems, saith Socrates, to be inconsistent with reason. That darksom and abstruse speech which is carried about concerning this matter, viz. that we men are placed in a certain station and guard, from which we ought not upon any pretext whatever to free our selves, nor to abandon our charge, seems to me to be truly great, and such as cannot easily be understood and comprehended: and yet notwithstanding I conceive it to be very truly said, Cebes, that both God takes care of us, and that we are his possession. Do not you conceive so too, Cebes? I do indeed, saith Cebes. But, saith he, if any one of your slaves should kill himself, without your command, would you be angry with him, [Page 97] and if it were in your power, revenge it? I would, saith Socrates: and therefore this also seems grounded upon no less reason; that no man ought to be author of his own death, before God hath brought some ab­solute necessity upon him, such as he hath now imposed upon us.

This also seems consenta­nious, saith Cebes. Coming here to the second Query, viz. Whether a Phi­losopher ought to de­sire death? First, he shews reasons for the Negative, viz. that the Gods are both Despots, or Lords of men, and gracious or good Lords to good men; ergo, good men ought not to desire death; it being evi­dent and confest, that all are to desire to continue in the fruition of good things; and he assu­ming that we re­main with the Gods, so long as we remain in this life. Wherein lieth concealed a parasyllogism; for in truth, while we live here, we are as it were pilgrims from God, as Socrates will in due place remon­strate. But in good truth, what you said even now, that Philosophers are easily inclined to die, seems next to absurd: if what we have here said, be said consentaneously, name­ly, that God takes care of us, and we belong to him, as a Free-hold and certain possession. For to affirm, that even the wisest of men are not displeased and trou­bled in the least, when they depart from this procura­tion and trust which the best Lords and Guardians of things, the Gods, com­mitted unto them; seems in no measure agreeable to reason. For that Wise [Page 98] man thinks not, that if he should be at his own liberty and dispose, he can provide better for himself than God doth: but a fool will think, that he is to fly from his Lord; nor will he think he ought to fly from a good thing, but constantly to conti­nue therein; and so he flies away, without any fore-going knowledg of reason. But a prudent and circumspect man will rather desire to continue still in that which is more advantageous and profitable to him; which certainly, Socrates, seems plainly repugnant to those things that have been by us just now explicated; and yet it appears to be more like truth, that wise men when they die, ought to be troubled; and fools to re­joyce. This Socrates hearing, seemed to me to be highly pleased with that subtile disquisition of Cebes; and turning his eyes upon us, Cebes, saith he, alwaies hunts after some [amusing] reasons; nor will he pre­sently give assent to what is said by any man. But I also, saith Simmias, am in this point of the same opinion with Cebes. For when Wise men desire death, what else do they propose to themselves, than to fly from Lords better than themselves, and to be freed from them? And Cebes seems to me to aim his discourse at you, who can so ea­sily [Page 99] relinquish both us, and the Gods, (as your self confesses) the best Lords. Ye have reason, saith Socrates; for I think ye require me to make my defense before ye, as in the Judgment-hall. We do so, saith Simmias. Well then, saith he, I will endeavour to de­fend my self with more convenient and more probable Arguments before ye, than before my Judges. For ISocrates going to prove, that death is not only not to be feared, but also wish­ed by a Philosopher; layeth down the fundamentals of his future probation, ap­plying the matter to himself; namely, that he was sustained by a stedfast hope, that after death, he should go, not from the Gods, but to them: because there re­mains something af­ter death, and it will be well with good men. Which are the two Heads of the subsequent disputa­tion, viz. that our Souls are immortal, and that felicity is reserv d for good Souls after death. saith he, Simmias and Cebes, if I did not think I should come, first to other Gods wise and good, and then to men deceased, better than those who are here: truly I should do very ill, not to be offended and troubled at my death: but now (be­lieve me) I am confident I shall come to good men. This (I confess) I will not positively affirm: but if I affirm any thing for certain, it shall be this, that I shall come to Gods, the best Lords. And this is the true reason why I am not at all discomposed or troubled, but sustain my self with a strong hope, that [Page 100] something remains in reserve for the dead after death; and as they long ago said, that it will be much better with good men, than with wicked. What then, saith Simmias? since relying upon this cogitation, you have a mind to depart, will you not communicate to us the cause of it? for that seems to be a good common to us also, and if you shall convince us of the truth of what you say, that will be also your full defense. I will endeavour it, saith Socrates: but first let us see what Crito here would have. What else should I desire to say to you, Socrates, an­swered Crito, but this, that a good while since, the man who is to give the poyson to you, bad us advertise you, that you ought to speak very sparingly; because much spea­king puts men into a heat, and therefore ought not to precede the poyson: for tha from thence it may come to pass, that the draught of poyson must be repeated twice or thrice. Wish him good health, saith So­crates; let him take care only of what be­longs to his own duty [and provide enough] as if he were to give the dose twice, and if need be, thrice. This I knew before, an­swers Crito; but the Fellow hath been troublesom to me a good while: suffer him saith he. But I will render an account to [Page 101] ye, my Judges, by what right I became pos­sessed of that my opinion, that he who truly and seriously addicts himself to Philosophy, or the love of wisdom, doth die with undaunted courage, and stedfast resolution, furnished with that noble hope, that immediatly after his death, he shall certainly attain unto the grea­test Goods, [or supreme felicity.] How this is, Simmias and Cebes, I will endeavour to ex­plain to ye.

They who have rightly embraced the study of Phi­losophy,First argument; the great duty and busi­ness of a Philoso­pher, is continually to meditate upon death; therefore he ought not to dread it when it comes. seem to excel in this one thing; that living in obscurity and retirement from vulgar conversation, they intirely and with all possible contentation of mind, devote them­selves to the meditation of death. If this be true, it will be absurd, to addict our study and devoirs to the consideration of this one thing, all our life long; and at last when death it self comes, to be offended and preturbed at it, after so long and familiar a converse therewith in our thoughts.* Here [Page 102] Simmias smiling, Socrates saith he, by Jove you have forced me to smile, who was no­thing inclined to such gayety of humor; for the vulgar if they had heard this, would (I believe) be of opinion, that it is extreme­ly suitable to Philosophers: and the greatest part of our men would consequently assent, that all Philosophers ought in good earnest to die; and that themselves are not ignorant they very well deserve to die.Whereunto he gravely replies, that it is no wonder if the ignorant vulgar give a rash and im­portune judgement of what they under­stand not. This (replies Socra­tes) they might say, Simmi­as; and truly too; this one thing excepted, that they themselves are not ignorant how far those who are tru­ly Philosophers, both medi­tate upon death, and are worthy of it: [for the vulgar are really ignorant thereof, and cannot judge of what they understand not.] Wherefore securely pretermitting those vulgar [Scoffers] let us seriously pursue our discourse.

A Second, and in­deed an artificial ar­gument drawn from the nature of death it self, which he defines to be a delive­rance of the Soul from the Body; and puts that for the first proposition of a Syllogysm.Do ye think, that death is any thing? Yes, answers [Page 103] Simmias. Do ye think death to be any thing else but a freeing of the Soul from the body: and that to die, is this, when the Body being freed from the Soul, remains by it self; and the Soul likewise freed from the Body, hath existence apart by it self? or is death any other thing besides this? No­thing but that, answers Simmias. Consider then, I beseech ye, whether your judgment be not the same with mine: for thence I conceive light will be derived to the argu­ment now under our consideration.Assumption; but the main care of a Phi­losopher is, to alie­nate and divorce his Soul from his Bo­dy, and the cupidi­ties thereof. Do ye take them to be Philo­sophers, who imploy them­selves in pursuit of those pleasures (as they call them) of the body, as of eating and drinking, and other the like sensual delights? By no means, So­crates, saith Simmias. What then? in Ve­nerial pleasures? Neither. Hath a Philoso­pher any care or value for other things that appertain to the delicacy and ornament of the body? as of rich cloaths, fine shooes, and other gaudy ornaments; doth he desire to be furnished with store of these toyes? Whether do ye think he esteems, or con­temns those things, unless so far as there may be great necessity of using them? My opini­on [Page 104] is, a true Philosopher contemns them all. Then your opinion is, that the whole study, care and labour of such a Philosopher is, not in pampering and adorning his body, but in with-drawing (as much as he can) his thoughts from his body, and converting them intirely upon his mind. I confess it. Doth it not then evidently follow from thence, that the Office of a Philosopher doth chiefly appear in this, that he renders his Mind free and absolute from community of his body? It doth so. But yet, Simmias, most men think, that he who takes no plea­sure from those [sensual] things, deserves not the use of this life, but comes nearer to death, being insensible and careless of those delights that belong to the body. You are in the right. The first circum­stance of his proba­tion, from the ef­fects of the corpore­al senses; that they being not sufficient­ly pure and perfect, cause the Soul, by contagion and sym­pathy, to be dull and pore-blind in the disquisition and discernment of truth. What then? when wisdom it self is to be acquired, will the body prove an impediment, if a man take it along as a com­panion in that disquisition? for example, the sight it self, or hearing, have they any truth in men? or do Poets speak truth, when they say, that we neither see nor hear any thing clearly and intirely? [Page 105] and if these senses of the body be not per­fect, or sufficiently quick and perspicuous; certainly the others, which are all weaker and duller than the sight and hearing, must needs be less perfect and sincere. Do you not think so? I do, saith he. When then doth the Soul attain truth? for when it endeavours to discern any thing clearly and distinctly, by the help of the body; 'tis ap­parent, that then it is seduced and circum­vented by the body it self. You are in the right. Doth not the Soul, by reasoning, or some other way of discerning, comprehend this perspicuously? Certainly it doth. And then it reasoneth best, when no sense of the body offends it, whether hearing, or seeing, or pain, or pleasure; but it converseth in­tirely & undisturbdly with it self alone, con­temning and repudiating the body, and (as much as lies in its power) retiring from all community and commerce therewith, with certain premeditation and counsel desires things, and pursues them. No doubt on't. Doth not therefore the Soul of a Philoso­pher even in this also highly contemn the body, and retreat from it: and by its self inquire into the nature of things, satisfied only with its own conversation? So it seems. Now this Operation, or work of [Page 106] the Soul, Another proof, from the proper and pe­culiar operation of the Soul; wherein withdrawing it self from commerce with the Senses, it is exercised in pure and abstracted Rea­soning. shall we say 'tis just, or not? Just, without doubt. Is it fair and good? Why not? But have you ever beheld with your eyes any thing of those? None, saith he. Have you with any other of your corporal senses attained to these things, (I speak of all, as of magnitude, health, strength; and in a word, the like, which are of such a nature, as they have all a real being) is their most true and certain nature considered, and ful­ly discovered by the body? Or is it thus, that he who is most fitly and exquisitely comparated or disposed to comprehend by cogitation, the nature of that very thing, in the disquisition whereof he is versed; shall come nearest to the knowledge and understanding of the nature thereof? No doubt of it. He then will perform this most purely and clearly, who by that edge of his Wit, by that accuteness of Spirit, pierceth into everything, neither making use of his sight while he thinks, nor drawing any other sense into counsel together with his reasoning: but imploying only his pure and simple faculty of reasoning, endeavours thereby to investigate and discover the na­ked [Page 107] and true nature of the things them­selves: free and separated from his ears, and eyes; and in a word, from his whole body; as that which may perturb the Soul it self, and hinder it from acquiring to it self veri­ty and wisdom, when it is imployed in con­versation and commerce therewith. Will this man, think you, if any other doth, at­tain to understand the true nature of things? you speak truth, Socrates, over and over, saith Simmias: Is it not then conse­quently necessary, that to those who are truly Philosophers, there be a constant and established Opinion, that they may confer among themselves about these things? there seems to be a plain way as it were paved to our hands, which leads us with reason to the consideration of things; but while we carry about this body, and our Soul is immersed in so dark and incommodious a sink of evil, we shall never attain to what we desire. This we affirm to be truth. For this body creates to us an infinity of businesses, trou­bles, and disquiets, meerly for the nourish­ment and necessary supplies of it. Besides, if diseases chance to invade us, they likewise hinder us from the investigation of various things: and that fills us with loves, desires, fears, various imaginations and Chimera's, [Page 108] and many foolish whimsies; so that it is a very true saying, that the body will never per­mit us to be wise. For nothing but the body raiseth wars, seditions, combats, and the like mischiefs, by its inordinate lusts: and we are forced to provide monies for mainte­nance of the body, being slaves and drudg­es to the necessary services of it. Now while we are thus imployed in these meaner Offi­ces, we have no leisure to apply our selves to the study and search of wisdom. And what is the greatest of all incommodities, if we do by chance get any thing of leisure and vacancy from the cares of the body, and address our minds to the serious considera­tion of any thing; presently the body in­trudes, and while we are busied in that in­quiry, raiseth commotions and tumult, and so disturbs and confounds the mind, that it cannot possibly discern truth. But we have already demonstrated,The former assump­tion repeated, and illustrated by a Di­lemma. Whence flows a certain con­clusion; since the grand design of a Philosopher is, to discern truth, his duty is to separate his Soul from his Body; and so as it were to anticipate death in this life. that if we desire to perceive any thing purely and clearly, we must withdraw from the body, and imploy only our mind, which alone is [Page 109] capable to discern the nature and proper­ties of Objects, in the contemplation there­of: for then at length, as appears, we shall attain to the fruition of what we desire, and with love and diligence seek after, namely wisdom; when we have passed through the [refinement] of death, as our precedent discourse intimates: but not whilst we remain in this life. For if it be impossi­ble for us to perceive any thing pure and intire, in conjunction with the body, one of these two [propositions] must of necessity follow: either we shall never attain to sapience; or not until we have passed out of this life. For then will the Soul be intirely divorced and separate from the Body, but not before. While we live here, we approach indeed never to sapience, if we have as little com­merce and conversation with the body, and be as little infected with the lusts thereof, as the condition and necessities of our frail nature will permit: but preserve our selves pure from the contagion of the same, until God himself shall discharge and free us wholly from it. And being once thus deli­vered, and pure from the madness and se­ducements of the body; as is reasonable to believe, we shall both be associated to the like pure beings, and by our selves know [Page 110] all purity and integrity; which perhaps is truth it self. For it is not possible for him who is himself impure, to touch what is pure. These things, Simmias, I conceive it necessa­ry for all, who are possessed with a right desire of understanding things, both to hold, and to discourse of among themselves. Are not you also of the same opinion? Al­together, Socrates. If then these be true proceeds Socrates; there is truly great hope,The second conclu­sion from the pre­mises, viz. if we then only live well, i. e. exercise our faculty of reasoning, when we abdicate our sen­ses: it necessarily follows, that we shall then be happy, and perceive truth plain­ly, when we shall be wholly separated from the body, i. e. after death. that who shall arrive at the place whither I am now going, will there, if any where, a­bundantly attain to the en­joyment of that, for which we have in the whole course of our life past, been seek­ing with extreme labour and study. This peregrina­tion therefore now appoin­ted to me, is finished with good hope; and so it will to any other, who shall have once perswaded himself, to prepare his mind, by rendring it pure and clean. No doubt of it, saith Simmias. Is therefore what we said even now, to be held a purification and purging of the Mind; viz. as much as is possible, to divorce it from the Body, and [Page 111] to accustom it to be by it self congregated and retired from the same, and to dwell as it were by it self: both in this, and in the future life, single by it self, and freed as from the chains of the body? Yea certainly, saith Simmias; Is death then rightly called a so­lution and separation of the Soul from the Body? It is so, saith he. And do they on­ly, who study Philosophy rightly, most en­deavour to divorce their Souls from their Bodies, as we have said? is not this the constant meditation of Philosophers? It seems to be so. What there­fore we said in the begin­ning,A third conclusion. Since the principal design of a Philoso­pher, is to attain unto truth; and that he cannot attain un­to it, until after death: it is incon­sistent for him to fear death. So the whole question is determined, that to a wise man, death is not only not formi­dable, but also desira­ble. would it not be ridi­culous, if a man who hath all his life long made it his constant study, and princi­pal care, to anticipate death by rendring his life as near­ly like to it, as is possible; should yet when death re­ally comes, be afraid of, and troubled at it? Why not? In truth then, saith he, they who Philosophize seriously and rightly, me­ditate most upon death, and to them of all men living, death is least formidable; which is evident from this argument.

[Page 112]
Funera non metuit sapiens suprema; nec illi,
Qui contemplando toties super astra levavit
Carnoso abstractam penitus de carcere mentem,
Corporis at (que) Animi faciens divortia tanta;
Quanta homini licuit, mors formidanda venire
Aut ignota potest. Nam mors divortia tantum
Plena haec, quae sapiens toties optasse videtur,
Et toties tentasse, facit, Superos (que) petenti
Libertatem animae claustris concedit apertis.
Majus noster, in Supplemento, Lucani, lib. 4.

For if at all times they contemn and vilifie the Body, and strive to have their Soul a­part by it self; and when the hour of their real and final separation comes, fear and be disquieted: what could be more alien or remote from reason, unless they willingly and freely come thither, where there is hope they shall, at their arrival, obtain whatever they in this life desired? and they desired Wisdom, and to be delivered from all com­merce of the body, with which they are offended. Have many been willing, out of ardent affection to their Friends, Wives, and Children deceased, to descend to the shades below, led by this hope, that there they should see, and converse with those whom they loved: and shall he who is really in love with Wisdom, and hath conceived a strong and certain hope, that he shall no [Page 113] where obtain and enjoy it, but in the other world, as is decent and consentaneous; when he is at the instant of death, be vexed and grieved, and not rather voluntarily and freely meet and embrace it? for so we are to hold, that a genuine Philosopher will conceive; that he shall never meet with true wisdom, but only apud inferos, among the dead. Which if true, how inconsistent with reason were it, for such a man to fear death? Highly inconsistent, saith he, by Jove. 'Tis then a fit argument, that he whom you shal see dying with reluctancy and fear, is not [ [...], sed [...],] a lover of Wisdom, but a lover of his Body; not a lover of verity, but of Riches, and the Pleasures of this life. It is just so as you say. To those therefore who are in this manner disposed and inclined,A new Theorem, re­sulting from the precedents; that those who neglect­ing the study of phylosophy, pursue not truth, as politi­cians and the vul­gar, have not true Virtue, but only the shadow and resem­blance of it. is not that [Virtue] which is named Fortitude, most agreeable and proper? It is, saith he. Is not Temperance, which many define to be this, not to be disquieted or afflicted With lusts, but to despise them, and to regulate ones life by modera­tion: does not this properly and peculiar­ly [Page 114] belong to those who both contemn the Body, and continually exercise themselves in the study of Philosophy? Of necessity. For, saith he, if you consider the Fortitude and Temperance of other men, you will discover them to be nothing but an im­portune and absurd ostentation of Virtue. How so, Socrates? You know saith he, that all other men account death to be one of the greatest Evils. They do so indeed, re­plies he. Do then men of courage and for­titude endure death bravely, for fear of greater Evils? They do, answers he. Then are all, except Philosophers, said to be Vali­ant only from fear; though it be truly some­what absurd [and a kind of contradiction] to call any man valiant upon the account of fear and cowardise. I grant it to be so. What? as for those of the vulgar who are reputed to be Temperate, are not they so out of some intemperance? Tho we have de­clared that to be impossible: yet the like affection falls upon them, in that their sense­less and foolish temperance; for while they fear to be deprived of some pleasures, and still coveting them, abstain from others; they are carried away by those they covet, without restraint. Now they call it In­temperance, to be governed by the tyran­ny [Page 115] of pleasures: and 'tis their case, to be overcome by some pleasures, whilst they conquer others. So that what we said even now of vulgar Fortitude, holds true also of these men, that they are Temperate from some Intemperance. But, my Simmias, That the firmament of true Virtue, is wisdom; without which the politic virtues are vizards and disguizes. So that to Plato, true Virtue, is wisdom; Wisdom truth; and Truth, Expurgation. this is not the right way to Virtue, to exchange pleasures for plea­sures, pains for pains, one fear for another, greater for less, as we do money. That is at last the true money, for which all things else are to be exchanged; Wisdom, for the sake whereof, and for which alone, all things are to be sold and bought: that fortitude, and temperance, and (in summe) every true and genuine Virtue may exist with wisdom; while pleasures, and fears, and all of the same Tribe come and go. But if they be separated from prudence, and exchanged one for another by turns; such Virtue will not amount to the shadow of Virtue, but be meerly servile and base; it will have nothing of true, nothing of sound and so­lid in it. Now Truth it self is the expurga­tion and refinement of all these: not tempe­rance, nor justice, nor fortitude, no nor [Page 116] Wisdom it self can be the expurgation. And indeed those who first ordain'd our Cere­monies, seem not to have been silly and vile men; but to have prudently designed that wrapt up in the veyls of words, when they said, that he who should descend to those below, not being initiated, and expiated ac­cording to the use of Sacri­fices;Hence that of Vir­gil. (Aeneid lib 6, ea. prima piacula sunto, Sic demum lucos stygios, regna invia vivis aspicies, &c. Concerning which Expiation, derived from the antient E­gyptians, consult Servius Honoratus upon the place. should be rowl'd in mudd: but he who des­cended to the shades, being first ritely expiated, and ad­mitted to the Sacrifices, should have his habitation with the Gods. For in the Ceremonies themselves (as they say) you may see [...]. Multos Thyrsigeros, paucos est cernere Bacchos, an old Greek a dage. many that bear Lances covered with leaves, but few Bacchuses. The importance of all the precedent Arguments, acco­modated by Socrates to his own justification, for that re­jecting the counsel and aid of his Friends, who strove to perswade him to avoid death, (as Plato hath left upon Re­cord, in a precedent Dialogue, intitled Crito) he still re­mained fixed in his judgement, that he sought rather to embrace it. These are, in my opinion, no other but they who study Philo­sophy [Page 117] rightly. From which institute I for my part have never in my whole life departed: but have with all possible con­tention of mind laboured to be one of them. But if we have done our devoirs rightly, and profited any thing in that study, when we come thither, we shall certainly understand, if God be so pleased, a little af­ter, as I think. These then Simmias and Cebes, are the reasons I bring for my defense, that I leave you and these Lords who are here, not only upon just motives, but with­out trouble or regret: being fully perswa­ded within my self, that I shall there find as good Lords and Friends as here. The things I have said, are indeed of that [abstruse] nature, that they may be by very many e­steemed incredible: but if I shall appear to you to have made now a more pertinent & decent defense, to engage your assent, than I did before those Athenians who were my Judges; 'tis very well.

When Socrates had said this,A new disputation of the Immortality of the Soul; but the basis of the former. For if the Soul survive not the body, all dispute concern­ing future felicity or infelicity, must be vain and idle. Cebes taking up the discourse; some things, [Page 118] saith he, seem indeed to be excellently well said by you: but what you have delivered concerning mans Mind or Soul, seems whol­ly abhorrent from Humane belief: nay they believe rather,To make way for this dispute, first is proposed the con­trary opinion of those who held, that the Soul dies with the Body; but so proposed, that in the words of this opinion, lie conceled the seeds as it were of more solid Ar­guments. For things compounded are said to be dissipated. He therefore being a­bout to demonstrate the Soul to be a things, not com­pound, but most simple; makes it most evident, that a Soul is uncapable of de­struction by dissipa­tion; as will appear from the dispute it self. that the Soul, so soon as it goes out of the Body, doth no lon­ger exist; but in the very day wherein a man dies, utterly perish; more plain­ly, that departing from the Body, as a breath or smoke, it is dispersed, and flies a­way, nothing of it after­wards remaining. Now if it continued intire, and had a being apart by it self, deli­vered and freed from the e­vils you recounted; then I confess, there would be a noble hope [beyond death] if the things you have said, Socrates, be true. But this wants no little probation of Arguments to prevail upon belief:The state of the Question, Whether after the d ssolution of the Body, the Soul be likewise dis­solved, and hath no longer a being. namely that the Soul existeth after a man is dead; and what faculty it hath of perceiving and un­derstanding. [Page 119] You are in the right, Cebes, replies Socrates. But what do we? Will you that we discourse further of this mat­ter, whether it be reasonable, or not? I would gladly hear, saith Cebes, your opini­on concerning these [abstruse] things. Nor do I think, saith Socrates again, there is any man living, though he be a Comedian, when he shall hear me disputing about them, will say, I trifle and speak of things impertinent and undecent. If you please therefore, that this matter be fully debated among us; let us consider it in this manner, namely whether the Souls of men deceased, be in the infernal habitations, or not.The first reason, drawn from the Py­thagorean opinion, of the transmigrati­on of souls. For if souls go from bo­dies into another life, and return thence hither to a­nimate other bodies; it follows both that they do and will exist hereafter; be­cause they are sup­posed [...] pass through many bo­dies. For this is a very antient Tradition, which we here commemo­rate, that the Souls of the dead go from hence thi­ther, and return from thence hither, and are made of the dead. Now if it be so, that the living are made out of the dead; our Souls truly can be no where but there: for if they were not, men could not be made again of them. And this would be a strong Argume [...]t, that the thing is so, in [Page 120] case it were manifest, that the living are not otherwise animated than by the Souls of the dead. But if this be not evident and certain, other reasons are to be sought for, that may be more convincing. They are so, saith Cebes. Proof of this Py­thagorean Hypothe­sis; that this circu­lation is performed, not only in the bo­dies of men, so that the living are made out of the dead; but in all other crea­tures; namely that contraries are made out of their contra­ries, as he teacheth by various examples. Do not then, saith he, consider this in men only, if you would easily understand it; but in Animals and Plants also; in summe, in all that have being by Generation: that we may enquire whether they be all produced from no other original than as contraries from contraries, (whatsoever have their contraries) as Beautiful or Honorable is contrary to ugly or shameful, just to unjust, and infinite o­thers in the same manner. Let us see there­fore if it be necessary that any contrary can have no being in nature, unless from its contrary: for example, that when a grea­ter thing is made, it be necessary it should be made of a less first, and then greater. Let us examine this. If a less thing be made out of that which was greater before, will it af­terward be made less? Yes, saith he. And of a stronger, a weaker; o [...] a slower a swifter? [Page 121] It will so. What? if any thing worse be made, is it out of a better? if any thing more just, is it out of what is more unjust? Why not? This then is clear, saith he, that all things are thus made, contraries out of contraries. 'Tis so. What more? Is there a­ny medium betwixt two contraries; so that where there are two contraries, there must be also two generations or originals of be­ing produced, first from one to the other, and then from that to this again? for betwixt a less thing and a greater, there is augmen­tation and diminution, of which one we call to increase, the other to decrease. Right. Therefore to separate, and compound; to grow cold, and to grow hot, and all in the same manner; though we use not names sometimes, yet in reality it is necessary, that some things be made out of others, and that there be a mutual generation and beginning of some to others. I grant it, saith he. Is any thing contrary to life, as sleep is contra­ry to waking? Yes. What? Death, saith he. Are these then made mutually each out of other, seeing they are contraries, and their generations made by some thing intermedi­ate betwixt two contraries? Why not? One therefore of the two pairs I just now menti­oned to you, I will explain, and their gene­rations: [Page 122] do you shew me the other. To sleep, and to awake: for out of sleep comes waking, and out of waking, sleep. The ori­gins or generatipns of these are, of sleep, to be in a deep sleep, of waking, to be raised up from sleep. Is this sufficiently explained, or not? Sufficiently. That death is contrary to life, and life to death; whence is collected, that the dead are out of the living, and the living out of the dead; and therefore the souls thus passing from body to body, still are in Being; for o­therwise they could not transmigrate. Do you then tell me with equal plainess, of life and death: whether is life contrary to death? It is so. And are some things generated out of others. They are. What then is made out of one living? A dead one, saith he; and what out of a dead? A living, I must confess. Of the dead therefore, Cebes, are made the living. Clearly so, saith he. Are then our Souls in the Mansions below? It seems so. Of the two generations or orgins therefore, which we have demonstrated to be in these things, is not one at least perspicuous? For to die, is manifest to all: is it not? yes, saith he.The same conclu­sion further explica­ted, thus; tho this new life appear not to us, yet since no man can doubt of death, which is known to all; from the nature of con­traries, that cannot be understood one without the other, it is necessary that [ [...]] or re­viving, or [ [...]] second ge­neration to life, be. What then shall we do? shall we com­pose some other contrary to this, or will this nature rather be maimed and im­perfect? or shall we deter­mine, [Page 123] that some other generation is to be rendred contrary to death? yes, saith he. What shall that be? Even to revive [that is a new life. If then there be a new life, will that be a certain generation out of the dead to the living? Doubtless. That therefore shall be confessed and esta­blished betwixt us, that the living have ex­istence out of the dead, no less than the dead out of the living. Which being so, is a con­venient argument, that it is plainly necessa­ry, the Souls of the dead be somewhere, from whence they may again exist. This indeed, Socrates, seems to me to be proved from [Propositions] granted and given. Observe this also, Cebes, that we have not confessed that without good cause.Another Argu­ment, ab incommo­do; if contraries were not thus pro­duced out of con­traries, all Genera­tions would inevi­tably cease; which being absurd, he thence collects and evinces, that out of the living, are made the dead, and out of the dead the living. Which is the first conclusion. For unless those things that are made, were composed some of others by turns; so as they come round again as in a circle; but there were only a generation in a right line from one to its oppo­site, [Page 124] not reflecting again to the first, nor making a return or regress: assure your self, it would come to pass, that at length all things would have the same figure, be in the same manner affected, and consequently would cease to be made. How's that? saith he. 'Tis not difficult, answers Socrates, to comprehend what I say. For Example; if this very thing, to sleep (if I may so speak) that is sleep, were existent; but to awake, were not, on the reverse, composed of the man sleeping: we were obliged to conclude, that all would at length represent the Fable of Endymion, and appear no where; be­cause the same would happen to all, that hapned to that Endymion, namely to sleep. And if all things were mixed and com­pounded into one, without discretion or distinction; then that of the Anaxagoreans would come to pass, all things would be at once. In the same manner, my Cebes, if all things that now participate of life, should die, and then remain dead in that figure, nor revive again; is it not clearly necessa­ry, that at length all must die, and nothing be left alive? for if the living have ex­istence out of others, and the living should die; how could it be possible but all would be consumed by death? By no meanes, So­crates, [Page 125] quoth he; for all you say, appears to me to be true. 'Tis even so, Cebes, saith he. Nor do we seem to confess things, as being imposed upon, and circumvented by error: but this is really demonstrated by us, that there is a return and restauration of a certain new life; that the living are made out of the dead; that the Souls of the dead exist; and that good Souls are in a better con­dition, and wicked ones in a worse.

Here Cebes answering,A second Reason to prove the Im­mortality of the Soul, drawn from that Hypothesis, that to learn, is only to remember. For if in this body, the Soul remember the things it knew before it came into it, it hath had a Being before it was married to the same. Socrates, saith he, what you now said, ariseth from the reason of that opinion which you frequently have in your mouth (if at least it be true) that to learn, is on­ly to remember. And from this opinion indeed it seems to be necessarily concluded, that we some time hereto­fore learned, what we now recal into our memory. But this could not be, unless our Soul were in being, before it came into this human form. So by this reason also, the Soul seems to be a thing immortal. But Cebes, saith Simmias taking up the Dis­course; pray, recal to our memory those your demonstrations: for I do not well re­member [Page 126] them at present. The thing may be demonstrated by one, and that a remar­kable Reason;A proof of that Platonic Hypothesis, that science is Remi­niscense, from the effects themselves; viz. that men being asked rightly, an­swer fitly of things otherwise (than by reminiscense) un­known to them, yea and of such as are indeed obscure and abstruse, as in Ma­thematics. This Pla­to more copiously explicates in his Di­alogue called Me­non: here touching it only en passant. namely, because men being asked, they deliver the whole matter as it is: but this cer­tainly they could not do, if there were not Science and right reason in them. Again if a man bring a matter to Geometrical Figures, or Di­agrams, or the like eviden­ces: this most manifestly proves and demonstrates the same to be true. But if by this way, saith Socrates, that be not proved to you; consider well, whether when you by this reason seriously examine the matter, it seem to you so clear, as that you ought to assent thereunto. Do you not believe, how that which is called to learn, is really nothing but to remember? I do not indeed refuse to believe it: but de­sire to have recalled into my memory, that of which we began to discourse: and from those reasons Cebes hath endevoured to al­ledge, I almost remember and believe it al­ready. Nevertheless I would now gladly [Page 127] hear, by what way you are provided to de­monstrate it. By this, saith he. Upon this we are already agreed, that if a man record and recal to his memory any thing whatso­ever, he must have known it before. True, saith he.A further proof of the same supposition, whereof this is the summe: that from the parity or impa­rity of the thing we have known, we come to understand other things, while we mark what is like, what unlike; which he asserts by many Examples. Do we then confess this also, that when there is knowledge by this way, that knowledge is re­miniscence? I say, by this way [by this example] as if a man had perceived a thing either by sight, or by hearing, or any other sense, he hath not only known that thing, but thought up­on some other thing also, whereof that very knowledg is not, but of another: might we not say, that he hath remembred the thing, the understanding and knowledg whereof he hath perceived? How say you this? Let this be an example; is not the knowledge of a Man, one; and the knowledge of a Harp, another? Why not? Know you not that it is usual to Lovers, when they behold either the Harp, or Garment, or any other thing, which their Paramours or Mistresses are wont to use; to know that Harp, and to have in their mind the image of the [Page 128] Youth whose the Harp is? Now this [their Knowledg] is Remembrance: as a man ha­ving seen Simmias, often remembers Cebes; and there are found infinite other examples of the same kind. There are so, saith Sim­mias, by Jove. And is not that, saith he, Re­membrance? and most of all, when the same hapneth to us in those things, which when we have not lately seen them, through length of time, and discontinuance of use, we have forgot? yes, saith he. Doth it not happen, that if one see the Picture of a Horse, or Harp, he presently remembers a Man: and if he see the picture of Simmias, he instantly remembers Cebes? It doth. And if he see Simmias his picture, doth he not remember Simmias himself? It doth so hap­pen, saith he.Whence it fol­lows, that Remini­scense is from the parity or disparity of things compared among themselves. Doth it not then come to pass, that in all these instances Re­membrance is exercised; partly from things alike, partly from things unlike? It doth.* But now, when a man remembers [Page 129] a thing upon sight of the like, ought he not to be so qualified or disposed, as to un­derstand whether there be any defect of re­semblance in what he so remembers? Of ne­cessity, saith he. Consider then, saith he, if these things be so. Do we say, that there is any thing Equal? not wood to wood, nor stone to stone, nor any thing of that kind: but besides all these, some other thing, viz. Equality it self? shall we hold, there is any such thing in nature, or not? yes, by Jove, saith Simmias; but exceedingly admirable. Do we know what that thing, Equal, is? We do, saith he. Whence shall we derive the knowledge of it? shall we not from those things we just now mentioned, when we behold woods or stones, or any other the like Bodies equal; from these (I say) shall we not in our thoughts comprehend that, which is quite another thing, different from them? or doth it not seem to you to be quite another thing? Now consider this also. Do not those very equal woods, and equal stones, which are the same still, seem to you sometimes to be equal, sometimes une­qual. They do so. What? Do they some­times seem to you equal or unequal: or the very Equality it self seem Inequality? Not at all, Socrates. Are not then, saith he, E­quals, [Page 130] and Equality the same thing. Not, as I conceive, Socrates. But saith he,Another Supposi­tion, to the support whereof the rest are applied, viz. that we come to know things Equal and Unequal, by a certain Divine power (which Plato here calls [ [...]] the E­qual) from the rea­son of the compari­son made, under­standing this sim­ply, that in our Soul is a Divine vir­tue or faculty, by which the operati­ons of both Memory and Science, and o­ther the like, are per­formed. tho the Equals be different from the Equality, yet you have both understood and perceived the know­ledge thereof. You speak most truly, saith he. Is it not the same thing, whether the object understood be like or unlike to that which occasioned the thoughts of it? It is. That truly makes no difference, for having seen one thing, and from that very sight con­ceiving in your mind ano­ther, whether like or un­like: necessary it is, saith he, that [Conception] be Remembrance. Very well. What then, saith he? are we to hold the same concerning those things of which we newly spake, woods, stones, and the like? Do the Equals seem to be so a­mong themselves, as the Equal it self is? or doth something seem to be wanting therein so as they are not such as that equal is, or nothing? Much is wanting. Do we not admit this also, as certain and perspicuous; [Page 131] when a man having beheld something,From these sup­positions given and granted, he infers (toward the expli­cation of the que­stion under debate) that the Soul un­derstands both like and unlike things, wherein the parity or disparity consist­eth; which is Sci­ence, and from Re­membrance; as being from comparison of par and impar. comprehends the same in his mind, and will have it (for example, what I now look upon) to be exactly such as some o­ther thing: but yet it fails, i. e. it cannot be such, but comes short of the other to which he likened it: is it not of absolute necessity, that he who so reasoneth, hath before seen that, to which he said the other is like, but yet there is wanting therein somewhat to complete the simili­tude or resemblance? It is necessary. What? are we in the same manner affected, in the consideration both of the things that seem equal, and of the equality it self? Altogether. Necessary it is therefore, that we have first seen that Equal, before that time wherein having first beheld the Equals, we compre­hend them in our mind, and conceive, that all things affect to be such as that Equal, but cannot reach to a full and perfect simi­litude or resemblance thereof. So it is. And that al­though our Soul doth in this life, act by meanes of the corporeal Senses, and so is obliged to make use of them as her instruments; yet that very facul­ty of perceiving by them, is to be dedu­cted from a higher and nobler princi­ple, namely that Divine power essen­tial to the Soul, which he calls [ [...]] the Equal, so that by that name he seems to intimate God himself, to the end he might con­clude, that the Soul also is Divine. But let us grant this also; that no man could compre­hend in his mind that Equal [Page 132] it self, from any other [in­timation:] and that it is not possible, that any should comprehend it, o­therwise than from the sight, or touch, or some o­ther of the Senses. For I hold the same of all: the case being one and the same in all, Socrates; as to what concerns the explication of this Discourse. But from the information of the Sen­ses themselves we are to un­derstand that all things that are subject to their preception, continually affect, and desire to be referred unto that which is Equal, and to yield thereunto; as being in themselves less perfect. Shall we grant this? Yes. The Reason of that assertion. Un­less that Divine power were in us, whereby we per­ceive; certainly we could discern no­thing by the help of our Senses. Divine then is that Faculty whereby the Soul understands by benefit of the senses, re­members, and reasons; yea and hath a knowledge even of God himself, of Good, Beautiful, Holy, Just. For be­fore we began to see, or hear, or have any faculty of Sense, 'twas necessary for us to be endowed with knowledge of that Equal, what it was: if we would refer to that Equal, the E­quals [Page 133] that occur to our senses; as if all things were by a certain potent instinct in­clined to aspire to be such as that is, tho they be much, yea infinitely inferior there­unto. This, Socrates, is evidently necessa­ry from the things mentioned by us before. When we were newly born, did we not See and Hear; had we not all our Senses? We had. It must be therefore, that before that, we were endowed with knowledge of the Equal. Certainly. Before we were born therefore (it seems) 'tis necessary we should have the knowledge thereof. It seems so. Conclusion; see­ing that from the example of things most known to us, it hath been pro­ved, that we know that which by com­paring like and un­like, or equal and unequal, we remem­ber; and seeing that the soul doth even now it is in the bo­dy, know so great things; it follows of necessity, that the soul long before knew the same things, which it now, by the ministry of the senses, knows and understands, as it were by certain degrees. Yet that knowledge is to be attributed, not to the ministry of the senses, but to that efficacious seed of Reason and Science which is inherent in the Soul it self; and only excited by the suggestions of the senses. If we were endowed therewith, before we had existence; did we not understand even before we were Born? and when first we were born, did we not know, not only Equal, and Greater, and Less, but all other the like [Re­spects?] for the design of [Page 134] our discourse is no more concerning the E­qual, than concerning the Beautiful, the Good, Just, and Holy; in summe, concerning all, by which both in our interrogations, when we interrogate our selves, and in our answers, when we answer, we sign and seal the Being of a thing: so that of necessity, we were endowed with the knowledge of all these things, before we were born. It is of necessity. Now if there had never been induced upon us an Oblivion of these Know­ledges perceived, we must certainly have still been skilful in them, and through our whole life alwaies endowed with Science. For, to know, is constantly to retain the knowledge of that thing we have percei­ved, and never to lose it. Do we not call Oblivion, a loss of Knowledge? We do, So­crates. What if being endowed with that Knowledge, before we were born; we have lost it, since we were born: and afterwards being conversant in those things by the help and service of our Senses, retrive those Sci­ences we had before: do not we then call to Learn, to recover our own Science? and if we call it, to Remember; do we call it rightly, or not? Rightly. For by experi­ence it hath been demonstrated to be possi­ble, that he who hath perceived a thing by [Page 135] sense, i. e. seen, or heard, or by any other sense perceived it, may in his mind compre­hend some other thing different from that which he had forgot, namely that to which the other, like or unlike, should succeed [in the brain of his thoughts.] Wherefore of the two, one (as we have said) is a necessa­ry consequent; for either we were born knowing these things, and all know them through the whole course of our life; or certainly those whom we call Learners, do nothing else but Remember: and so, to Learn, will be only to remember. And without all doubt, Socrates, this is even so. Whether of the two will you choose, Sim­mias? That we are born knowing; or that we afterward recal to mind the things we knew before. I know not at present, Socra­tes, which to choose. What? in this exam­ple have you not judgment to choose, & to determine certainly of it? A prudent and knowing man, cannot he give a reason of the things he knows? He can, Socrates. Do you think that all are able to give an ac­count of those whereof we just now treat­ed? I wish they could, saith Simmias; but fear lest to morrow no man may be left a­live able to do it. Do not all, think you, know these things, Simmias saith he? No. [Page 136] Therefore they remember those they have sometimes known.How the soul is said to have former­ly known the things which being in the body; it recalls to memory. Where we may [...]o save, that according to this Socratic Hypothesis, the soul is created long before the bo­dy is formed, and as a Ghest infused into it, by God. Which is his first position. Certainly. And when did our Minds receive their knowledge? Not from the time we were born men. No doubtless. Before there­fore. So it seems. Our Souls then were, before they put on the shape of man; and they obtained the power of understanding, while they yet had existence apart by themselves. Unless perhaps, So­crates, we receive these Sciences at the time of our birth: for that time yet remains. When then do we lose them? for we have them not when we are newly born, as was before agreed upon betwixt us. Do we lose them at the same time when we receive them? or can you assign any other time? No. But I perceived not that I say nothing. Then, Simmias, the thing is clearly so.A second position, that our soul is Di­vine, not by decisi­on from Divinity it self, nor by issuing, or propagation, or generation of sub­stance, or any other gross manner of production from Di­vinity; yet divine; so that the Divine energy of perceiving and knowing, is essential to it, which distingueshes it from all other Animals. If at least there be those things which we have al­waies in our mouths, Beau­tiful, [Page 137] and Good, and every such essence; and we thereunto refer all things that come from our Senses: for that by investigating our own Essence, we find to be, namely exi­stent, and we compare these things to the exemplar thereof; So it is necessary, that as these also are, so our Soul too be, before we were Born, and came into the light of this life. If these were not, truly this discourse would seem to be made in vain: but they are so, and there is an equal necessity, both that they be, and that our Souls were exi­stent, before we were Born. If those be not, neither are these.Conclusion; that this created and di­vine Soul hath had prae-existence with God, then knowing more things, than since it came a Pil­grim into the dark­som lodging of the body. So that this Doctrine about Re­membrance, may be reduced to this one Syllogism. That is learned which is perceived from remembrance of the like: the Soul, before it came into the Body, could not but know many things, by that Divine power wherewith it was endowed; therefore what it learneth in the body, it understandeth from re­membrance of the like; and so Learning is nothing but Re­miniscense; which was the thing to be demonstrated. Tru­ly, Socrates, saith Simmias, absolute necessity seems to urge these things beyond all dispute: and reason seems excellently to con­duct us to this conclusion, that as well our Soul, as that Essence whereof we speak, have been existent, before we were born. For [Page 138] I hold nothing so certain and evident, as that all these are, and chiefly both Beautiful and Good, and the rest of which you now treated: and I am abundantly convinced of their verity. What? and is Cebes so too? for he also ought to be perswaded. I con­ceive, saith Simmias, the whole matter hath been sufficiently proved to him too, tho he be a man of most hard and most slow be­lief, beyond all others; yet I think, it hath been clearly enough demonstrated to him, that our Souls were pre-existent to our Nativity. But whether they also survive our death, and continue their Being after the dissolution of our Bodies; this I think hath not been yet demonstrated: and that vulgar opinion, which Cebes mentioned, yet remains unrefuted; namely that so soon as a man is dead, his Mind or Soul is dispersed, and destroyed, so that it can no longer ex­ist. For what should hinder, but it may derive its origin and creation from some o­ther principle, and have Being long before it enter into a human body: but when it departs, and is freed again from the body, then it both die, and be utterly abolished? You say well; Simmias, quoth Cebes: for only the half of what was required, seems to be demonstrated, viz. that our Souls [Page 139] were, before we were born. There remains to be remonstrated the other part, that the demonstration may be full and perfect; namely that after our death, our Souls will be, no less than they were before our birth. This part of the Demon­stration,The second part of the former Thesis, of the immortality of Souls; where So­crates, after lighter arguments, comes to allege more solid and cogent Reasons, to evince, that the Soul being perfectly simple, or void of all composition, is ther­fore naturally inca­pable of dissolution or dissipation; as Ce­bes had objected. Simmias and Ce­bes, saith Socrates, is now fi­nished; and if ye please to conjoyn and compose this reason, with that upon which we all agreed be­fore, namely, that whatever lives, hath its existence out of the dead. For if the Soul be pre-existent, necessary it is, that when it comes to life, and is truly in Being, it derive that existence only from death. How therefore is not clearly evinced, that it doth exist so soon as a man is deceased: see­ing it is necessary that it exist again? This also then is already demonstrated, as is ap­parent.

And yet notwithstanding both you and Simmias seem willing to be again exercised more accuratly in this argument, and to be astonished with that childish fear, lest the wind blow out and dissipate the Soul going [Page 140] out of the Body; and the more, if a man die, not in a close room secured from winds, but in an open place where winds blow strongly. And when Cebes had smi­led; endeavour not, Socrates, saith he, to incourage us, as if we were astonisht with fear; but endeavour rather to demon­strate the thing to us, as free from all fear. Yet perhaps there is here among us some Boy, who is afraid at the mention of this. Let us therefore do our devoir to perswade him not to dread death, as a Goblin. 'Tis fit, saith Socrates, to mitigate and animate him daily with Verses,Alluding to the Magic of Inhcantati­on, first used by the Egyptians, and from them derived to the Grecians by Orphe­us, who thereby ha­ving cured his Wife Eorydice of the ve­nemous bite of a Serpent, was there­upon feigned to have reduced her from Hell. Of the antiquity of this kind of Magic, and the traduction of it, consult Sir John Mar [...]ham in Chronic. Canon. pag. 142. till he be perfectly restored. But where, saith he, shall we find a man skilful e­nough in the Art of In­chanting: since you say, you desire to leave us? Greece is wide, Cebes, saith he; and in it are good and skilful men, and many Barbarous Nations, which are all to be surveyed, that there may be found out a man pow­erful in that Art of Charm­ing; neither money nor labour ought to be spared: [Page 141] for ye can expend your money in nothing that's more necessary. And now he is to be sought after among your selves: for perhaps ye will not easily find any man more able than your selves to perform it. This shall be done, saith Cebes; but in the mean time let us, if you please, return to our argument, from which we have digres­sed. With all my heart; why not? You say well quoth he.The beginning of the grand dispute about the Souls im­mortality; the fun­dament whereof is this proposition; that the soul is most pure and simple, and therefore indissolu­ble. Ought we not then, saith Socrates, to ask of our selves, and with the best of our under­standing to enquire, to what thing this affection [of Dissipation] may be convenient and incident; and for what we ought to fear, lest it suffer Dissipation, and by what reason, and in what part thereof: then to consider diligently whether that thing be a Soul, or not: and in fine, matters being thus stated, either to hope comfortably of the Soul, or to fear for it, accordingly? You say well, quoth he.First position; whatsoever is com­posed, is obnoxious to dissolution. Is it agreeable to a thing which is either actually mixt, or compounded, or by nature so constituted, as to be capable of mixture or [Page 142] composition: is it agreeable, I say; to such a thing, in as much as it is compounded, to be dissolved? But if there be such a thing, of whose nature it is, to be wholly simple or uncompounded, is it convenient to this thing, to suffer no dissolution? It seems to me to be so, saith Cebes. Second Position; Things that are al­waies the same (that is Eternal) are void of Composition; things not alwaies the same, (that is, moral [...]) are com­pounded. Those things therefore, which are alwaies in one manner, and equally comparated, 'tis highly consentaneous, that they be simple or void of composi­tion: but those that are sometimes in one manner, sometimes in another affe­cted, that is subject to alterations; 'tis con­sentaneous, that they be compounded. I think so. Let us then return to those we noted in our precedent discourse. That very Essence, which by the force of questi­ons and answers we have defined to be re­ally existent [namely God] is that equally the same at all times [with­out alteration] or not?Third Position; God who gives Being to all creatures, and is not only Good, but Goodness it self; not only wise, but wisdom it self, &c.) is neither compounded, nor subject to any mutation, but [ [...]] uniform, know­ing no [ [...]] shadow of change. namely the Equal it self, the Beautiful, the Single, (that [Page 143] is, what really existeth) doth it never re­ceive any the least alteration? That Essence, saith Cebes, must of necessity be ever the same, without alteration. What shall we deter­mine of many Beautifuls, as men, or horses, or garments, or others however the like, e­qual and beautiful, or all that are compre­hended under the signification of the same name: are these alwaies the same, or is any thing contrary to them, nor they to them­selves, nor among themselves, that I may so speak, are they alwaies the same? These tru­ly, saith Cebes, are never exactly the same. These therefore you may perceive either by your touch, or sight, or any other sense: but those that are alwaies the same, you can­not by any other way, but by reasoning of your Mind, comprehend; for they are in­visible, and fall not under the power of sense. You speak truly, saith he, in every point. Fourth position; there are two kinds of things or (as he speaks) [...], two forms of Beings. Those that are alwaies thesame, which are invisi­ble: and those that are mutable, which are visible. Will you there­fore, that we make two Kinds of things; one, visible; the other, invisible? Let us lay down these two Kinds [for a foundation] saith he. Let us also put the invisible to be that which is alwaies the same: the visible, that [Page 144] which is never perfectly the same. And that too, saith he. Now, saith he, do we consist of any other things but Body and Soul? Of no other, saith he.Application of all these four positions to the present ar­gument. There are in Man, two distinct things. One, visible, not alwaies the same, but obnoxious to various mutati­ons, and so compound and mortal: the o­ther, invisible, al­waies the same, and so incompound and immortal, namely the Soul; whence it is evinced, that the Soul is [ [...]] indissoluble, and consequently immortal. To which of the two Kinds shall we decree the Body to be more like, and more al­lied? 'Tis evident to every man, saith he, that the body is more of Kin to the Visi­ble. But the Soul, is that visible or invisible? Invisi­ble, to men, saith he, cer­tainly. But those things that fall under sense, and those that do not; did we not refer them to the nature of men, or are they to be referred to any other na­ture, think you? To Human nature. And what is to be concluded of the Soul, that it is visible, or that it is invisible? Invisible. This therefore is to be fixt, that the Soul can by no meanes be perceived by the sight. Right. Therefore the Soul is more like to that Invisible Kind, than the Body is: and the Body more like to the Visible. Of necessi­ty, Socrates. Impediments of the Soul from its so close conjunction with the body. We said a [Page 145] while since this also, that the Soul, when it useth the service of the Body to consider any thing, either by seeing, or hearing, or any other sense (for, to consider a thing by the body, is to consider it by sense) is then drawn by the body to those things that are never the same; and that it errs, and is amused, and giddy, as a Drunkard is giddy by a vertigo in his brain. Altogether so. But when the Soul doth contemplate by it self, it aspires to what is pure, to what alwaies existeth and is immortal, to what is ever the same: and as being of Kin there­unto, is alwaies conversant therewith, after it is of its self and by it self, and hath pow­er, and ceaseth from error, and is wholly in those things that are alwaies the same, so far forth as they occur to it. And this affecti­on of the Soul is called, Wisdom. You speak rightly, Socrates, in every word. To which Kind therefore, both of these we mentio­ned above, and those we now describe, is the Soul more like, and more allied?Conclusion that the soul is Divine and Immortal; the Body, gross and mortal. Any man (in my opinion, saith he) even the most ignorant, will from this way and me­thod of reasoning, grant, that the Soul is more alike, and more cognate to the All and Whole, that [Page 146] is, to what is ever the same; than to what is never exactly the same. And what the Body? To that which is never the same. Thus observe also, after the Soul and Body have come together into the same [man] that nature commands the body to be servant thereunto,The Affections and Offices consigned by the institute or law of Nature, that is, of God acting by his servant Nature, to both soul and body; that the Soul is to rule, the Body to obey. and to obey the dictates of its su­perior, the Soul; and ap­points the Soul to rule and give law to the Body. From the reason of these things, which of the two seems to you to be like unto the Divine; and which to the Mortal [being?] or is that Divine by nature qualified and made to command and go­vern: but the Mortal, to be subject, and to serve? I conceive so. To which is the Soul like? Truly, Socrates, the Soul is like to the Divine; the Body, to the Mortal. Observe, I pray, saith he, whether from all we have already alledged, it be certainly e­vinced, that the Soul is most like unto the Divine, and Immortal, and Intelligent, and Ʋniform, and Ʋnalterable: but the Body is most like unto the Human, and Mortal, and Non-intelligent, and Multiform, and Disso­luble, and Alterable. Can we oppose any [Page 147] thing to these, as if they were not right and convincing? We cannot. These things then being thus established,Grand Conclusi­on; that the Soul be­ing indissoluble by death, survives e­ternally. is it not proper and peculiar to the body, to be capable of Dissolution: and to the Soul, to continue indisso­luble; or somewhat next to this? Why not? You clearly see therefore, saith he, that when a man is dead, the visible body, (which we call dead, and to which it be­longs to be dissolved, and to fall asunder, and be blown out) doth not incontinently suffer any of these, but remain some consi­derable time, if a man hath by pleasantness and moderation treated his Body to the time of his death. For when the dead Bo­dy is fallen, and enbalmed, [...]s they who are enbalmed in Egypt, it continues almost in­tire, for a very long and indeterminable time; and though some members thereof shall have suffered corruption, yet the bones, nerves, and all of the more compact sort, endure (if I may so say) for ever. Do they not? Certainly. * But here the Soul; [Page 148] [...]n invisible thing, goes away into another place, a place noble, pure, not to be seen by the eyes of Mortals, among the infernal shades, really to a good and provident God; whither indeed (if God be so pleased) my Soul is presently to go. For the Soul it self being in this manner qualified and freed from the Body; will it, think you, pre­sently vanish into air, and perish? as many men say. No, Cebes and Simmias; it is ve­ry far from all possibility of being dissol­ved. But truly, in that manner we have explained, the matter is rather dispar aged than illustrated; for the nature of it is more noble: if at least the Soul depart pure, car­rying along with it nothing from the con­tagion of the body: as that which did, whilst it remained in this life, willingly and of choice hold no communication with the Body, but declined and avoided it; and re­tired into it self, imployed all its powers by cogitation to avoid it. Which is nothing else but to Philosophize rightly, and in good earnest to anticipate death by familiar con­versation of thoughts. Is not this a meditati­on of death? Wholly. * Doth not there­fore

[Page 149]
[Felices posthac Animae, quas corpora nullis
Faedarunt vitiis, nulla (que) libidine morsas
Detinuere olim, quae, dum sub carne latebant,
Contemplatrices abstracte a carne volarant
Saepius ad Caelos, Caelis post fata, quibuscum
Faedera sanxerunt viventes sacra, locantur,
Eterna (que) illic Laetantes luce fruuntur.]

the Soul being so comparated, go to that Divine Being like unto it self? Di­vine, I say, and Immortal, and Wise? To which when it comes, it becomes perfectly happy, being freed and exempted from er­ror, from ignorance, from terrors, wild Loves, and all other Human Evils; and as men are accustomed to speak of such as have been by solemn expiations purged, and initiated to Sacred Rites, living eternal­ly with the Gods. Shall we speak thus, Ce­bes, or otherwise? Thus in all points, by Jove, saith Cebes. But if the Soul depart out of the Body polluted and impure, as having hitherto conversed wholly with the Body, and slavishly served it, and being both by its own errors, and by the lusts of the Body fascinated, esteemed nothing true but what's corporeal, namely that gross matter hat is touched, seen, drunk, and used to Venereal pleasures: and on the contrary,[Page 150] that which is to the eyes dark and invisi­ble, but may by the power of understand­ing be perceived, and by the institutes and discipline of Philosophy be comprehended: this, I say, having been accustomed to hate, and abhor, and dread; can we imagine that a Soul thus disposed and vitiated, shall de­part pure, and intirely collected into it self? By no means, saith he.From the popular Opinion of Ghosts, and Spirits, he adds that Souls loaden with gross & earthy affections, wander in grief about mo­numents and Se­pulchres; for a certain time only; that is, (according to the Pyth [...]gorean Dream) they light upon o­ther Bodies suitable to their former af­fections, inclinati­ons, and manners. I think, we ought rather to decree, that such a Soul departs involved in, and contaminate with the stains and infection of the corpo­real mass, which the very conversation and familiari­ty of the Body, because that Soul hath so continu­ally and intirely conversed therewith, and with much [At tenebrosae animae, nimium quae carnibus olim Demerjae jae ueresuis, quos tetra libido At (que) voluptates, solum quas sensus alebat, In terris notae, posthac de carne solutae, Aspectum Caeli, cum quo commercia nulla Viventes habuere, timent, nec luce fruuntur: Sed tenebris dilecta nimis prope corpora semper Ferales errant Ʋmbrae, maestae (que) Sepulchra Busta (que) faedacolunt: Hinc noctu spectra videntur, Quae terrent homines; animae sunt ista malorum, Quae quaeniam crassae sunt, corporea (que) videntur. Majus noster, in Supplem. Lucani lib. 4.] [Page 151] care and cogitation imployed it self in pursuit of such things, hath as it were in­grafted into it, and made a part of its na­ture. Certainly. This we are to hold, to be with a kind of burden, gross, heavy, ter­rene, visible: wherewith when such a Soul is inveloped, it is weighed down and car­ried to a visible place, by fear of that invisi­ble one, and (as it is vulgarly said) it wan­ders about Monuments and Sepulchres; where have been seen certain darksom Ima­ges of Souls; which Apparitions such Souls represent, that have not departed pure, but yet retain something of that gross and visible matter, and are therefore be­held. 'Tis very probable, Socrates. Nor is it less probable, Cebes, that those are not the Souls of good men, but of Wicked and Im­pious, that are compelled to hover and flagg about those places, suffering the punish­ment of their former vicious Education; and restlesly wandring until by desire of that corporeal following, they are again in­tangled in, and bound to a Body. And [Page 152] bound they are (as is probable) to one of such inclinations and manners, as they in life had imployed their thoughts upon. What are these things you speak, Socrates? How it is probable, that those who have minded gluttony, railing, wantonness, &c. nor cautiously abstained from them; p [...]on the forms of Asses, and of other wild Beasts. Do not you think it probable? You speak with great probability. And that they who highly valued and honoured injustice op­pression, tyranny, rapine; are turned into the Kindes of Wolves, Hawks, Kites, and o­ther Beasts of Prey? or shall we say▪ that their Souls go to some other place? Truly, saith Cebes, to no other. We are therefore to hold, that all Souls strive to go, whither the similitudes of their cogitations and incli­nations carry them. 'Tis very perspicuous truly; A consectary of the former Doctrin; that the arme way to that conjunction with God, is not by Poli­tic and Theatrical virtues, which are but shadows, but by the serious study of wisdom. and why not? Are then they the happiest of men, who upon deliberate purpose exercise civil pru­dence in a popular way of life, which they call tempe­rance, and justice, contract­ed meerly from conversa­tion and cogitation, without the precepts and discipline of Philosophy? and do they [Page 153] go to the best place? How can these be most happy? Because 'tis likely, that they come again into some civil and tame kind of Ani­mals, as Bees, Drones, Pismires; or return into men, and become moderate. Very like­ly. But to pass into the kind of Gods, is pos­sible to none but who hath duly exercised himself in the study of wisdom: for he ha­ving been all his life possessed with desire of learning, departs out of this world pure and undefiled. And 'tis upon this account, that Cebes and Simmias, that good and genuin Philosophers; abstain from all pleasures of the Body, and constantly and firmly con­tain themselves, not permitting their appe­tites and passions to carry them away in pursuit of sensual delights; nor fearing the subversion of their private Estates, and the invasion of poverty, as the vulgar and ava­ricious do; nor dreading the ignominy and reproach of mean spirited men, as the ambitious and lovers of great Honours do: but abstracting and alienating their minds from all such [splendid trifles.] Nor would it be consentaneous to them to do otherwise, Socrates, saith Cebes. No, by Jove would it not, saith he. Therefore Cebes, saith he again,A lively and re­markable descripti­on of that Philoso­phical life, the ground whereof is the contemplation of God, and its work, to instruct men to renounce all exor­bitant affections of the body, &c. all who take care of their Souls, and im­ploy [Page 154] not their life in pam­pering and adorning the body; neglecting and re­pudiating all those things, they walkt not in the way of those we mentioned be­fore, who are wholly ignorant whither they are to go. But Philosophers being perswaded, they ought to do nothing con­trary to the precepts of Philosophy, or to the solution and expiation thereof; [leave the common road of the multitude] and proceed in the way that [Wisdom] hath shewn to them, and follow the conduct thereof, as of their Leader. How? Socra­tes. I will tell you saith he: Men studious of Discipline know, that Philosophy, when it undertakes their Soul really bound and glewed to the body, (which Soul is con­strained to contemplate things themselves through the body, as through a Bride-well, and not single by it self able to contem­plate it self: and when it wallows in all ignorance, and perceives the power and ef­ficacy of that bond, which exserts it self even by lusts themselves; namely that the Soul thus bound and imprisoned doth im­ploy all its force and powers to be by lusts and desires more closely enchained) I say, [Page 155] men studious of Discipline know that Phi­losophy, when it hath found their Mind or Soul so disposed, is versed chiefly in this, by degrees to mitigate and compose [the Soul] and to deliver it [from those Fetters;] teach­ing, that that consideration which is perfor­med by the service of the eyes, is full of error; and that the information of the Ears and all other senses, is likewise full of error, perswading it to retire from them, and not to use them, unless when necessity compels: and declaring and exhorting it, to recollect and congregate it self; and to give credit to none but it self, seeing that it self alone can by [...]self understand and comprehend that which existeth by it self; and that what it considers by other things, because subject to alteration, it ought not to account true, but only such as the Senses represent it; but that what it self clearly perceives, is intelli­gible, and unperceivable by Sense.Description of a profane and vicious life. Whereof the greatest Evil is, that such men are insen­sible both of their sins, and misery. When therefore the Soul of a man truly a Philosopher con­ceives, that it ought not to oppose this deliverance and infranchisment, comes thus to abstain from pleasures and lusts, and as much as it is able, from griefs also and errors: thus casting up its [Page 156] account; When a man is possessed, and even transported with great joy, or astonish­ed with excessive grief, or inraged by the stings of Lusts, he doth not by those [passi­ons] suffer so much of evil, as one would by common and vulgar judgment think: whe­ther (for example) that he should pursue those Lusts, feel those Diseases, and undergo loss of his Estate in vain: but, what is the highest of all Evils, he suffers this, that he perceives not, nor takes notice that he suf­fers. What mean you, Socrates? saith Ce­bes. Because every mans Mind is constrai­ned to rejoyce and delight vehemently up-an occasion of some things, and to esteem that wherein he suffers that [affection] to be most manifest and most true; though the same be not such. Now are these things discernable by the sense, or are they not? Wholly. But in this affection, is not the Soul obliged to sympathize with the Body? In what manner? Because every pleasure, and every grief, as if armed with a nail, af­fixeth, and as it were with a buckle fastneth the Soul to the Body, and makes it corpo­real, thinking all things to be true, that the body dictateth. For, that it is constrained to agree with the Body in opinions, and to be delighted at the same time with it (as [Page 157] I conceive) comes from the conjecture of the one with the other: and thence the Soul is carried about by the common force of education and customes, so as it cannot go to the shades below, i. e. to a second life, pure and undefiled, but departs polluted with stains and infection derived from the body, and then presently falls into another body, and as if sowed therein, grows to it, remaining void of that divine, pure, and uni­form conversation. You speak great truths, Socrates, saith Cebes. Conclusion moni­tory. With what care and circumspe­ction a Philosopher ought to beware, lest he be intangled in the snares of Lusts and Corporeal plea­sures, against which by his profession he proclaims open War. By reason of these things, Cebes, they who are truly studious, are modest and valiant; but not by rea­son of those that are in the opinion of the vulgar. What think you? Not by reason of vulgar things, certainly. For the Soul of a Philosopher will not hold it self obliged to free it self from the insti­tutes of Philosophy, and letting loose the bridle of its precepts, give it self up to the desires either of pleasures or pains, and per­mit it self to be again chain'd to the body, and so render its work imperfect; weaving and unravelling its web, like Penelope (as they say) but will resolve it to be most de­cent, [Page 158] to compose all those desires, and follow the conduct and mandates of reason, and to be alwaies conversant herein, to contem­plate things true and divine, and such as may not be carryed about by temerity of opinions; and being bred up and nourished with them, conclude, it ought in this manner to live, while life lasteth: and when death comes, to go to a place agreeable and cog­nate to its nature, and be delivered from hu­man evils. From this Education, it can fear nothing grievous, by its own institution stu­diously labouring in this matter, Simmias and Cebes; not fearing, to be, in the moment of its departure from the body, dissipated, and blown out by winds, and so to vanish, as to have no longer existence any where else.

The second part of the disputation; wherein Plato pro­poses the chief Opi­nions impugning the Immortality of the Soul; observing the circumstances con­ducing to the grace of the Dialogue. Socrates having thus spoken, there succeeded a long silence. And he was plainly observed profound­ly to revolve in his mind the discourse he had deli­vered; and thereupon ma­ny of us appeared to medi­tate upon this matter. But Cebes and Sim­mias conferred a little betwixt themselves. Whom Socrates beholding, what, saith he, is [Page 159] the subject of your conference? Doth any thing seem to be deficient in my discourse? There remain truly many doubts and ex­ceptions, if one would with due strictness examine and pursue things more particular­ly. If your private talk be of any other matter, I ask nothing; but if ye doubt of the verity of ought delivered in my dis­course, delay not either to declare your scruples, if ye think they may be more com­modiously and satisfactorily solved; or to admit me to bear a share in the conference, in case ye believe any thing of light or uti­lity may arise from my assistance. And I, saith Simmias, will ingeniously confess the truth. Each of us remaining in suspense, have been urging one the other, out of de­sire of satisfaction, to propose our Queries to you: but fear restrains us, lest we might give you trouble, and our interrogations prove importune and unpleasant, in this your calamity. At this Socrates mildly smiling, O strange! saith he: how hard a task shall I have, to perswade others that I am far from esteeming this my present case a calamity, since I cannot prevail upon you to believe I am so: but ye fear, lest my condi­tion be now more afflicted, and sad, than at any time heretofore in my whole life. Truly [Page 160] ye seem to think me to be inferior to Swans, in the way and faculty of divining.Socrates, in way of preface, first posi­tively professeth his own stedfast belief of the Souls immor­tality; alluding to the vulgar tradition of the singing of Swans (concerning which he shews him­self somewhat su­perstitious;) and then declares the disquisition to be of so high moment, that we ought not to be exercised therein without due attention of mind, and caution, lest we admit error instead of truth. They, when they first perceive they are to die, as they sang before, so they sing most at that time, re­joycing that they shall forthwith come to that God, whose servants they are. But men, being them­selves afraid of death, feign lies in disparagement of Swans, and report, that they lamenting their own death, for very grief strain their voice more vehemently at the approach of it; not ob­serving, that no Bird ever sings when he is displeased or pinch'd with cold, or af­fected with any pain whatever; no not the Nightingal, nor Swallow, nor the Hooper, which they say, are wont to sing for sor­row: but neither these, nor Swans seem to sing for grief; but, as I think, because they are Sacred to Apollo, and so being endowed with some instinct of divining, when they fore-see the Goods that are reserved apud inferos, they chant forth their joy, and are [Page 161] more delighted that day, than in their whole life before. And for my part, seri­ously I conceive my self to be conjoyned with these Swans in consort of the same mi­nistry, and consecrated likewise to the same Deity: and that I have received from that my Lord and Master, no less power of Divining; and that I depart out of this life with equal quiet, and calm submission. Wherefore nothing remains to hinder you from speaking and interrogating whatsoe­ver ye please, concerning our former argu­ment, whilst the Eleven [Officers] of the Athenians permit. Socrates, saith well, replied Simmias. I will freely declare my doubt: and Cebes here will likewise let you know how far he doth not embrace what you have delivered. For I think my self to have as certain and confirmed knowledg of these things, as you Socrates; that either they are in the number of impossibilities, or extremely difficult. But as for what things are said concerning them, not to ex­amine them with every reason, and all mo­ments of arguments alledged, or wholly to reject them, and to leap back from them, before you have endeavoured with all pos­sible contention and equity of mind, even to the last effort, and to weariness, to per­pend [Page 162] them: this I think to be the part of an effeminate and incurious spirit. And herein, this one thing is to be studiously en­deavoured, that either we may learn, or find out how these things are; or if that cannot be done, choosing and fixing upon such a reason, among those that occur to hu­mane understanding, as may be more firm and convincing, i. e. as may be less subject to refutation; set up our rest therein: that being thereby, as by a ship, carried safely a­long, we may escape the dangers and diffi­culties of this life; unless any can be waf­ted and transmitted over in some firmer ve­hicle, i. e. some Divine Word. Truly I shall not be ashamed to ask, since you say this: nor will be a cause of accusing my self here­after, that I had not ingeniously explained to you what my opinion is concerning this matter. For, Socrates, when I both by my self, and with another, by comparing rea­sons, enquire into it: I do not find your ar­guments to be perspicuous and convincing. Perhaps, saith Socrates, this is your opinion: but tell me freely, how far, and wherein my discourse fails of being perswasive. Thus far, saith he:* that any man may say the [Page 163] same, with equal reason, both of Harmo­ny, and of a Harp, and of other instruments of Music: namely that Harmony is a some­thing invisible, and incorporeal, and most beautiful, and divine, in a well tuned and concordant Harp or Lute: but the Harp it self, and the strings, are bodies compound, and terrene, and of Kin to that Mortal [na­ture.] And when any one hath broken the Harp, or cut the strings; if another should assert, and by the same reason you urged, that of necessity that Harmony doth still exist, and is not destroyed, (for it would be no difficulty at all, that the Harp is still in being, and that the strings being broken, are mortal; but that the Harmony, which was by community of nature, and by cognation conjoyned with that Divine and Immortal [Being] died and vanished, before the Mortal,) but continue in Being some where; and that the wood and strings would rot and fall to dust sooner than the Harmony decay, or suffer any thing of destruction. For truly, Socrates, I conceive that you also have thought our Soul to be something like this [Harmony:] as if our body being ex­tense, were hold together by hot and cold, dry and moist; and from the mixture of these, results a certain temperature and con­sent, [Page 164] which is the Soul; and this, after those Elements or Ingredients have been exactly and in due proportions mixed and tempered together. If therefore the Soul be a kind of Harmony, namely when our Body shall be infinitely extended, and so freed from diseases and other evils: that then it is absolutely necessary, the Soul (how Divine soever) should perish, as other Har­monies, that 'are either in Sounds, or in all the works of Artificers: and there the re­liques of every body endure a long time, until it be burned, or dissolved by putrefa­faction. Observe then what we should an­swer to this discourse, if any should affirm, that the Soul is a certain temperament ari­sing from the ingredients of the body; and that in that dissolution which is called death, it first perisheth. Here Socrates, after he had, as he used often to do, cast his eye round about, and smiled; Simmias hath reason, saith he. If therefore any of ye be more copious, and better furnished with argu­ments, than my self, why doth he not an­swer? for Simmias seems not lightly or rashly to have touched that discourse. Yet before I answer, I hold it convenient, we first hear Cebes, what he also reprehends in my discourse, that gaining time for thoughts, [Page 165] we may well consider what to reply; then, that having fully understood their objecti­ons, we may either yeild to them, or by ob­serving their impertinency, so defend and make good our own Doctrine. But go to, Cebes, saith he; declare to us what troubles you in this argument, so that you cannot as­sent and give credit to my words.

I will tell you,The Second con­trary opinion; that the Soul, tho more firm and lasting than the Body; be­cause more excel­lent: doth yet at length, after it hath animated and worm out many bodies successively, decay, and through weak­ness perish; which Cebes illustrates by an example. saith Ce­bes: To me your discourse seems to be involved in the incommodity, and to be guilty of the same fault I observed before. For, that our Soul existed before it came into our Body, I deny not: for that hath been fairly, and (if it may be said without offence) abundant­ly demonstrated. But that any thing remains to us after death, seems to me not sufficiently proved: For, that the Soul is stronger and more lasting than the Body; I so hold, that I shall not grant that Exception of Simmias to be true; because the Soul seems to be far more noble and excellent than all these. Why therefore (saith Reason it self speaking to me) do you yet doubt and refuse to believe? since [Page 166] you see, that when a man is dead, what of him was more infirm and weak, yet remains: do you not conceive it to be necessary, that what is more firm and lasting, must at the same time remain conserved? But now do you perpend and consider this also, if I shall say any thing considerable: for I want as much as Simmias did (it seems) some I­mage or similitude. For, to me these things seem to be spoken, just as if one should, an old Weaver being dead, say thus of him; the man is not destroyed, but remains safe somewhere: and should bring this argument for it, the garment of his own weaving wherewith he was cloathed, which is yet extant. And if another should, after refu­sal of assent to that argument, ask, whether of the two is more lasting, man or a gar­ment, which may indeed be consumed by the very use of wearing: and a third should answer, that man is much more lasting; and so should think it demonstrated, that that man doth by so much the rather remain safe, because what is less lasting, hath not perished. This I conceive not to be so. Observe also what I say; for any one may think it to be said foolishly and imperti­nently. For this Weaver having worn out and woven many such garments, died the [Page 167] last of these many, but before the last: and yet man is notwithstanding neither worse, nor more infirm, as for what concerns that matter. This very Image (I think) the Soul shall receive by reason of the Body. And he who shall say the same of them, may seem to me to speak soberly and moderately, if he conclude the Soul to be of long durati­on; but the Body less firm, and of shorter duration. But I would say rather, that the Soul consumes and wears but many Bo­dies, though they all live many years. For if the Body be dissolved and perish, the man yet surviving, and the Soul alwaies weaves a new what is worn out: it will be wholly necessary, that the Soul at that time when it shall die, have the garment it last wove; and that it perish before that last garment only. But when the Soul once dies, the Body then soon demonstrates the imbecility of its nature, and quickly rot­ting vanisheth. Wherefore according to this reason, it would be highly extravagant for us to grow proud upon this perswasion, and to be confident, that after we are dead, our Soul doth still remain some where. For if a man shall grant more than what you affirm; namely, that our Soul was pre-exist­ent before it entred into the Body; yea that [Page 168] nothing hinders but the Souls of some may, after they are dead, survive and continue; and that they are often born, and die again, that is, they often come and go (for that such is the virtue and power of the Soul, as that it conserves it self through the various moments of its birth) though, I say, a man shall grant all this, he would yet be forced to confess this, that the Soul doth not only endure vast labour in all those many accessi­ons, or approaches of generations; but also at length is by one of those decensions or dislodgings, that is by some one death, whol­ly destroyed and abolished. But this death, and this dissolution of the Body, which brings destruction at last to the Soul, let no man say he understands. For it is im­possible, any of us should comprehend it by sense. This being thus, it is absurd for any man living, who cannot prove it, with a certain foolish and ignorant security to be confident, that his Soul is immortal, and ex­empt from destruction. Besides, 'tis neces­sary for a man drawing near to his death, to fear for his Soul, lest in that very present disjunction of his Body, it utterly perish, and be abolished.

[Page 169]When we had heard them speak thus,Here Phaedo pau­seth a little; oppor­tunely intimating, that the immortali­ty of the Soul is a thing both so im­portant, and so ab­struse, as that it ought not to be by an empty and unad­vised credulity em­braced, but stedfast­ly rooted in the mind, upon the conviction of solid and convincing ar­guments. we were all cast into very great perplexity of thought, as afterwards some confessed to others; for that having been strong­ly perswaded by the prece­dent discourse of Socrates, they seemed to trouble us, by destroying that belief, and by raising scruples in our minds; so that we not only doubted of what we had embraced, but inclined also to deny our assent to the like argu­ments in the future: as if either we were not competent judges of these things, or the things themselves were of that improbable nature, as not to admit belief.

Ech.

I excuse you, Phedo, by the immortal Gods: for it came into my head to revolve the very same thing in my thoughts, whilst I heard your recital of their [uncomforta­ble] exceptions and scruples. To which rea­son therefore shall I give assent? for that discourse of Socrates, which to me seemed the more probable, hath now lost its title to my belief. For that opinion, that holds the Soul to be an Harmony, hath alwaies won­derfully [Page 170] prevailed, and doth now prevail with me: and the present rehersal recalls to my memory, that the reasons thereof have heretofore pleased me. And I again stand in need of some other discourse (as a repetition from the very beginning) to per­swade me, that when the Body dies, the Soul doth not die too. Tell me therefore, by Jove, how Socrates pursued that dis­course; whether he, as you have confessed, were observed to be more offended at the opposition; or whether with a mild and composed mind, he brought relief to his distressed assertion: and whether that re­lief were effectually strong and prevalent, or weak and destitute of solidity: all which (I pray) recount to us as particularly and plainly as you can.

Phe.

An opportune re­flection upon the admirable modesty, and exemplary hu­manity of Socrates, shewn in Disputa­tion.Truly, Echecrates, I have alwaies much admi­red Socrates; but never so much as at that time. It was no wonder, he was provided of an answer: but well worthy the highest admiration, that he first received and solved those Objections of the Young men plea­santly, benignly, and sweetly; and then shewed himself sensible of, and concerned [Page 171] in our dissatisfaction and perplexity. After­ward he administred Physic most oppor­tunely to our doubting minds, recall'd us as overcome and flying away, and made us turn our faces again [with courage and hope] that we might follow him, and with recollected thoughts more attentively con­sider his Discourse.

Ech.

How effected he that?

Phe.

I will acquaint you how; for I sate at his right hand, near the little Bed, on a low stool, so that he was much above me. When therefore he had rubbed his head a little, and pressed down his hair, (for he used sometimes in that manner to play with his hair) to morrow, saith he, Phedo, you will perhaps cut off these fine locks. That, So­crates, is convenient. No, saith he, if you believe me. Why? quoth I. This very day, saith he again, both I will cut off mine, and you shall cut off yours, if our discourse be dead, and we not able to revive it. Were I you, and had lost my discourse, I would make a vow, as the Argives did, I would never let my hair grow, till I had vanquish­ed and subdued the Harangue of Simmias and Cebes. But, quoth I, Hercules himself is said not to be sufficient to encounter with two at once. But saith he, encourage me [Page 172] as Jolaus, while the day lasteth. I do en­courage you, said I, not as if I were Hercu­les, and you Jolaus: but as if I were Joa­lus, and you Hercules. No matter which saith he; but first let us beware lest we be circumvented by some chance. By what? said I. That we be not, saith he,A previous caution, that we entertain no prejudice against words, as some do against particular persons: because Hu­man reason may in­vent various excep­tions in this sublime Argument, to elude the force of verity. haters of words, as they who pursue men with peculiar and personal ha­tred: for a greater evil cannot fall upon any man, than to be involved in that kind of Odium and Aversi­on. And both sorts of ha­tred, of men and of dis­courses, flow from the same Fountain. For hate towards mens persons flows, and as it were steals in from hence; that if a man hath without due circumspection given full credit to another, taking him to be perfectly vera­cious, and upright, and faithful: and after­ward find him to be a knave, faithless, a turn-coat and time-server; and this happen often to the same man, and from those whom he took for his most loving and most familiar friends; at length he feeling the shock of his wrongs, and as it were bruised, grows to hate all, and to conclude within [Page 173] himself, that there is nothing of integrity or sincerity in any man. You are in the right, say I. Is not that therefore shameful and odious? and manifest it is, this man would, without skill in Human occurrents, and the practice of the World, hold a com­merce with men. For if he made use of men with discretion and art, and estimated things according to their nature; he would find, that there are some men good, and o­thers bad: not many very good, nor very bad; but every man of a middle order be­twixt both. How say you that? said I. As of things, replied he, that are great or little in extremes; do you think any thing more rare, then a man extremely great, or ex­tremely little; or a Dogg, or any thing else? or than one that is swift, or slow, or beauti­ful, or deformed, or white, or black to the last degree? Do you not observe, that all extremes are very rare: and that middle-rate things are frequent and numerous? They are so, said I. Do you then think, that if there were appointed a combat of improbi­ty, that men of the highest rank therein would be found to be but few? 'Tis likely they would, said I. It is so, said he. But in this manner discourses are not like to men (for you going before me, I tread in your [Page 174] foot-steps, and follow you (but thus far the resemblance and cognation betwixt them is to be observed, when a man hath firmly assented to a discourse as true, without any arguments of that art whereby belief is usu­ally obtained; and afterward the same dis­course seem to some to be false, and to others to be true:Against the Scep­tics, who disputed of things problema­tically, concluding of nothing, but this, that nothing should be certainly known. By this very place they may be undeceived, who having not read, or at least not under­stood Plato, have yet been so bold as to accuse him of Scep­ticism, as if he taught nothing of certain­ty. and this come to pass chiefly from those men who are versed in that kind of discourse which is called [ [...]] an ac­count of Causes, (i. e. when upon examination of the causes of things, what argu­ments can be alledged on either part, are urged and debated) they forsooth at length think themselves to be the wisest, and alone to have understood, that there is nothing of truth and certainty in things or words; but that all are carried and tum­bled up and down tumultuously, as by some Euripus, never continuing in the same state and posture. You speak truth, said I. Were it not then (saith he) a deplorable calamity, if when a discourse is true and certain, and such as may be commodiously comprehen­ded [Page 175] and understood: yet afterward any man should fall from the truth of it, and waver in uncertainty, because in those ve­ry reasons, which being alledged on both parts, may seem one while true, and another while false, he hath been curiously versed? Would not he, I say, accuse himself? He would not confess his own dulness, but growing at length discontented, would transfer his fault upon the discourses them­selves, and during the remainder of his life, pursue them with perpetual hatred and de­testation: because it had by their fault hap­ned, that he had been deprived of the just power of Verity and Science. By Jove, answered I, it would be very sad and deplo­rable.Socrates addeth, that when in a Phi­losophical inquisiti­on, we come to that point, that we can­not understand why a thing is so or so constituted: we ought to accuse, not the Reasons them­selves, but our selves and our [own infir­mity; and so in this] very Argu­ment. First therefore, continued he, let us avoid this danger, and not per­swade our selves of the wrong through prejudice, as if we thought there were nothing of solidity or soundness in discourses themselves: but this rather let us believe, that we our selves are not of sound and upright judgment; and that we are to endeavour with courage and re­solution [Page 176] to render our selves more discern­ing and judicious: you and others, for the remainder of your lives, and I, for my death. But methink, I am not now treating of this Subject, as becomes a Philosopher, but ra­ther contentiously and obstinately, as the grosly ignorant are wont to argue. For they, when they doubt of any thing, take little care of what properly belongs to the nature and investigation thereof: but ap­ply their whole study and diligence only to this, to perswade others to think as them­selves think. And I seem to differ from them only in this. I am not solicitous to convince others of the truth of what I say (unless so far forth as it comes in my way occasionally and by the by, to do it) but ra­ther that the same things may appear to my self to be really such as I represented them to be. Thus, my Phedo, I reason: and do you look with how great accession of pro­fit and emolument [to others.] For if the things I say, be true; 'tis happy for me that I believe them: but if nothing remain to me after death, yet at this time that inter­cedes before it, I shall be the less unpleasant to those who are present, than otherwise I might be, in case I lamented and deplored my death. But the ignorance of this mat­ter [Page 177] will now no longer persue me (for that would be evil) but be soon blotted out. And thus prepared, Simmias▪ and Cebes, I address my self to speak. Do ye the while so govern your assent, as to have little con­sideration of Socrates; and all you can of truth. If I seem to speak truth, give me your assent: if not, oppose me with all your power of reason; being chiefly in­tent upon this, that I may not through this my vehement study and ardor of thoughts, lead both my self and you into error, & de­part, like a Bee, leaving my sting behind me.

To come therefore to the thing in dispute;Coming now to the Refutation of the contrary opinions objected; for more perpiscuity sake, he first rehearseth them faithfully. first do ye recal into my memory what things ye have said, unless I shal appear to you to remem­ber them of my self. Simmi­as, as I think, diffident of of what I alleged, doubts and fears, that the Soul, though more divine and excellent than the Body, may yet perish before it, as arising from, and depending upon a kind of Harmony or consent [of the organs of the Body.] But Cebes seems to grant this, that the Soul is indeed more lasting than the Body: uand yet holds it to remain uncer­tain, [Page 178] whether the Soul after it hath passed through, and worn out many Bodies by use, doth not at a certain time, it self also, leaving its last body, perish and vanish a­way; and whether that death be not the destruction and abolition of the Soul, for as much as the body never ceaseth to perish. Are not these your Opinions, Simmias and Cebes? Both assented that they were.Refutation of the first contrary Opini­on, that the Soul being only Harmony, as it ariseth from the Body, so it pe­risheth with it. But, saith he, whether do ye reject all my precedent discourses: or do ye repu­diate only some, and admit others? Some, say they, we reject, some we approve. What do ye resolve con­cerning that part of my discourse wherein I affirmed, that Discipline or Learning is Reminiscence? which being established, it would necessarily follow, that our Soul hath existence some where, before it is conjoyn­ed to the Body. I confess, saith Cebes, both that when you delivered that Doctrin, I suffered my self to be perswaded: and that now I wholly adhere to it, if to any other opinion. But you must be or another judg­ment, replies Socrates, if you yet continue in that perswasion of yours, that Harmony is a thing compounded; and the Soul a cer­tain [Page 179] Harmony, constituted of those things that are extended and diffused through the Body. For otherwise you would contra­dict your self, as having said, that this Har­mony was made before those parts and or­gans of the Body, of which it ought to be composed, were in being. Will you admit this? By no means, Socrates, saith he.An Argument from an Absurdity, thus. If the Soul were Harmony, then would it be necessa­rily consequent, that the Soul was not prae-existent to the Body, which yet was before granted and proved. And this Argument is indeed firm, as to its form; but infirm as to its ground, namely the supposi­tion of the prae-ex­istence of Souls. Do you conceive then, saith he, that these two affirma­tions can stand together: namely, that the Soul hath existence even before it takes possession of a Human Body; and that the same Soul consisteth of two things that are not yet in being? For you have no such Harmony to which you liken it: but first the Harp, and the strings, and the sounds, and so the con­sonances and tunes by certain Musical modes composed, are made: and the Har­mony as it is last formed, so it first perish­eth. And how can this Opinion of yours agree with your other? By no means, saith Simmias. And yet notwithstanding, saith he, it is highly reasonable, that if it consist [Page 180] and agree with any tenent, it must be chiefly with this concerning Harmony. It is so, saith Simmias. That discourse therefore is disa­greeable to you: but see which of the two you will take; this, that Discipline is Re­membrance; or this, that the Soul is Harmony. Rather the first, saith he, Socrates. For this hath pleased me, without any firm demon­stration, only by indication of a probable and elegant example: whence it hath been approved by many others also.Because this Opi­nion deserded by Simmias, relieth on­ly upon a probable Example; there­fore Socrates occa­sionally admonishes, that we are not ea­sily to resign up our belief to Exam­ples. And I, out of conscience of my own experience, saith So­crates, am of opinion, that those discourses which en­deavour to teach by things only like unto truth, are fitted meerly to ostentati­on: and that if a man be not very considerate and cir­cumspect, they are highly fallacious, both in Geometry, and in all other Arts and Sci­ences. But that Doctrine concerning Re­miniscence and Discipline is propt up by the solid firmament of an Hypothesis certain and worthy of belief. For it hath been said, that the Soul is somewhere so existent, before it comes into the Body, as that the Essence of it is qualified to obtain the true [Page 181] appellation of what it is, [i. e. of a Human Soul.] And this position, as I first admitted it into my thoughts, and perswaded my self of the verity thereof, so have I rightly and fully embraced it. For from the force of these arguments, it seems to me clearly ne­cessary, that neither my self, nor any man else ought to give credit to him who holds the Soul to be Harmony. A second Argu­ment, strong and co­gent, from a double Absurdity. What? saith Simmias, doth it not seem consentaneous both to this Harmony, & to ny another composition, to be of some other nature, than the things are whereof they are composed, or from which they result? By no meanes. First position; that compounds alwaies are the same, in their affections, or acti­ons and passions, with the things whereof they are compounded. Nor can any other thing, I think, do or suffer ought, but what the principles of it do or suffer. To this he assen­ted. For it is absurd, the Harmony shoul go before the things out of which it is made or composed, but necessary it should come after them. To this also he yielded. Very far then it is from possible,* [Page 182] that Harmony should by a contrary resist­ence be moved, or a sound, or by any other way be repugnant to its own parts. Very far indeed, saith he.From these two positions, ariseth a Theorem; that Har­mony cannot be more or less Harmo­ny. What? is it not of the Essence of Harmony, that it be so for a Harmony, as it consenteth? I understand you not, saith he. If that Harmony be more and more adjusted and compo­sed, will it then be more and more a Har­mony? and on the contrary, if it be less and less adjusted and composed, will it be less and more scarcely a Harmony? Yes doubtless. Is it then incident to the Soul, to be more and more, and less and less a Soul, from the most minute parts of it self [in­creased or diminished? Not at all, saith he. Go to then by Jove. That Theorem accomodated to the Soul. Is one Soul said to be good, and to be endowed with understanding and virtue: and another, to be evil, and polluted with folly and improbity? and are they truly said to be so? Truly without doubt. But of those who hold the Soul to be an Harmo­ny, who hath affirmed, that these things, Virtue and Vice, are in Souls themselves? Hath any said, that in them are also Con­cord [Page 183] and Discord? and that the Good is composed of a certain concordant consent, and in the concord it self, containeth a­nother concord: but the Bad is both dis­cordant, and containeth not another discord in it self? This in truth, saith Simmias, I can­not affirm: but manifest [...] be who hath laid down this opinion for truth, will affirm it. But that, replies Socrates, hath been already granted, that one Soul cannot possibly be more or less a Soul, than ano­ther: and this was the grand article of our common assent, that one Harmony cannot by any meanes be more or less a Harmony than another. Was it not? I confess it. And that this is nor more nor less a Harmo­ny, nor more nor less fitted and adjusted to the ration of Harmony. Is this so? It is Now that which is nor more nor less adjusted, hath that at sometimes more or less of Con­cent: or equally? Equally. Therefore one Soul, as it is a Soul, is not more or less a Soul, than another Soul▪ and consequently cannot be, by a certain concent, more or less conformed. Right. Being thus affected or constituted, can it be no otherwise partici­pant of concord and discord? No truly. Being thus affected, can one Soul receive more or less of Virtue or Vice, than ano­ther: [Page 184] seeing that Vice will be Discord, and Virtue Concord? Nothing more one than a­nother. Nay rather, Simmias, from the rule of right reason, no Soul will be participant of Vice, if it be Harmony; for Harmony excludes all Discord.That Virtue is the Harmony, and Vice the Discord of the Soul. From whence he collects, if the Soul be Har­mony; since Virtue and Vice in the Soul undergo the ration of Concord and Dis­cord; it must follow, that no Vice can have place in the Soul, and so no soul be vicious; that is, the difference of Good and Evil would be wholly taken away; than which there cannot be a greater absur­dity. Nor can a Soul, perfectly a Soul, receive Vice. How can this be evinced from our for­mer concessions? for by this reason also the Souls of all living creatures will be equally good; if at least they be all equally compa­rated. It seems to me, saith he, they are so, Socrates. And doth that, saith he, seem to be rightly said; and that these Reasons are pertinent to this discourse, and con­sentaneously demonstrated, if this be a true Hypothesis, that the Soul is Harmony? Not at all, saith he. What then? saith he; of all the parts of man, doth any bear rule, and possess an Empire over the rest, besides the Soul, espe­cially if it be prudent? No truly. Whether doth it rule, if it indulge and favour the affections of the Body, or oppose and con­tremand [Page 185] them? for Example: If when the Body suffers heat or thirst, the Soul incline it to abstain from drink; and when hun­ger presseth the Body, the Soul divert it from eating; and in infinite other occasions we observe the Soul resisting and giving law to the senses and appetites of the Body. Doth it not? Yes doubtless. A second abs [...]rdi­ty; seeing it is evi­dent, that both vir­tue and vice are in­cident to the Soul, (as appear [...] from the ra [...]ional and irra­tional cupidities thereof) if the Soul were Harmony, it would inevit [...]bly follow, that the Soul is not a Soul, that is, the [ [...]] things plainly inconsistent woul [...]d be compounded; as if a man should ab­surdly imagine to mix Discord with Harmony. And have we not in our precedent en­quiry granted, that the Soul, supposing it to be an Har­mony, cannot possibly have affections contrary to the organs of the Body by which its presumed to be strain'd up to a higher, or let down to a lower pitch; or repugnant to the passi­ons of the instruments of which it is composed: but must inevitably obey their dictates and commands, not prescribe and give law to them? This we have gran­ted, saith he; why should we not? Now then, doth not the Soul appear to do quite contrary, when it exerciseth Dominion o­ver, and dispenseth commands to the vari­ous members and organs of the body, out [Page 186] of whose combination and system you sup­pose it to result; and when for the most part during life, it strives to control all their inclinations and appetites, with absolute So­veraignty ruling and moderating them: more severely chastising some, by the rules of strict Diet and Medicine, and more gent­ly and mildly correcting others; with me­naces and advices composing the lusts, an­ger, and fears of the Body; as if in man himself there were two distinct natures, or as it were persons, one speaking to the o­ther [as Prince and Subject? as Homer also imagined in his Odysses, where he saith of Ʋlisses,

Knocking his breast, to's Heart he thus did speak.
Be not thou, Heart, in these afflictions weak:
But bear them bravely, in thy self secur'd.
Thou heretofore hast greater ills endur'd.

Think you that the Poet feigned this out of opinion, that the Soul it self was an Har­mony, and such a frail thing, as to be at the will and conduct of the corporeal affecti­ons, and unable to lead and rule them: or rather out of a full perswasion, that the Soul was a thing much more noble and divine, [Page 187] than a Harmony? He seems to me, by Jove, Socrates, to have signified, that the Soul is, not a Harmony, but something incomparably more Noble and more excellent. Conclusion; that the opinion of the Souls being Harmo­ny, is to be explo­ded, as many waies absurd. We can­not therefore (believe me) hold the Soul to be an Harmony: for manifest it is, that if we do, we shall both dissent from that Di­vine Poet, and contradict even our selves. You are in the right, saith Simmias.

Well then, saith Socrates; we have com­modiously (I think) appeased and silenced the reasons of the Theban Harmony: but, Cebes, how shall we, in the next place, solve those of theBoth Simmias and Cebes being Thebans▪ it seems that Socra­tes here facetely al­luded to the fable of Cadmus the Thehan, of armed men grow­ing out of the earth; because Cebes had many times contra­dicted and opposed him with fresh for­ces. Cadmean? You, saith Cebes, are most likely to find out that: for you have admirably, and beyond our expectation, discoursed against that Har­mony [which Simmias de­fended.] For when I heard him proposing his doubts, I thought it strange even to wonder, if it were possible for any man living to find a reasonable so­lution of them: and it seemed admirable [Page 188] to me, that he was not able to sustain the very first charge of your speech. 'Twil there­fore be less admirable, if the Cadmean opi­nion [proposed by me] meet with the same fate. Good Cebes, saith Socrates, speak not those magnific things of me, I beseech you; lest envy rise up, and disturb our following discourse. But let God alone with that care also; while we encountring (as Homer saith) hand to hand, try the force of what you can allege.

He first recites, and sta e the second con­trary opinion.Of all your Enquiries, this is the grand and capi­tal one. You judge it fit to be demonstrated, that the Soul of man is free and exempt from destruction and death: and this, lest a Phi­losopher, when at the near approach of death, he is of a resolved and undaunted courage, and believes that after death, he shall be far happier than in the short race of this life; should out of an ignorant and foolish confi­dence, triumph and exsult. Now to affirm, both that the Soul is a thing firm and di­vine, and that it existeth of it self, before we are born: this, I say, hinders not but all your arguments may come short of the main question in hand: they may serve to evince indeed, not the immortality of the Soul, but [Page 189] only the duration of it: for that an immense time before its entrance into the Body, it hath existed; and then both knew and did many things: and yet notwithstanding all this, we are under no necessity of conclu­ding from thence, that it is immortal: nay rather on the contrary, it seems reasonable, that its very entrance into, and conjuncti­on with the Body, is the beginning of its destruction, and a kind of sickness; so that it lives a sad and miserable life here, torment­ing it self with the sense of [various] cala­mities; and at last perisheth by that end which is called death. But you say, that as to our security from fear of death, it makes no difference, whether the Soul come only once into one Body, or into many suc­cessively. For in truth, no just cause of fear is given to any, unless he be very silly, and unable to give a reason why the Soul is immortal. And (this I take it) is the summ of what you said, Cebes: which I industri­ously recite, and more than once inculcate, that nothing may escape us, and you may add and detract what you please. But I, saith Cebes, at present demand neither to detract, nor to add any thing: and you have faithfully recounted what I said.

[Page 190]Then Socrates, after he had a pretty while recollected himself from intent and fix­ed thoughts: the thing you seek, saith he, is not to be contemned, Cebes: as being that, for the sake whereof it may concern us, ex­quisitely to enquire into the causes of Gene­ration and Corruption. I will therefore, if you please, pursue my discourse, declaring what are my sentiments concerning the same. Let it be so, saith Cebes. Attend you then diligently, while I explain my thoughts.Accomodating his Answer to the order and method of the opinion he designs to refute; he first removes the prejudices upon which it was groun­ded; and then teach­eth, that the true cause of the Souls immortality, is to be sought in God, who is [ [...]] the very form and fountain of life. I have saith he, even from my Youth, been strangely enamour'd and inflamed with the study of that part of Wisdom which they call the History of Nature. It seemed a magnific and no­ble thing, to understand the causes of all things, why this or that particular was made, why it should be a­gain destroyed, and by what reason it had exist­ence: and I very often tur­ned my self up and down, first revolving these things in my mind. Why Animals, after hot and cold have undergone a cer­tain sort of putrefaction (as some say) are [Page 191] nourished: and whether the Blood be that by which we have the power of Ʋnderstan­ding and growing Wise; or Aire, or Fire, or none of all these; but rather the Brain. which gives us the senses of hearing, seeing, smelling, &c. Whether out of these, Me­mory be made, and Opinion; and from me­mory and opinion setled by quiet, Knowledg be made, in the same manner. Perceiving clearly the corruptions of these, and obser­ving the contingents both in the Heavens, and on the Earth: I at length thought my self to be so unfit for these contemplations, that nothing can be more unfit. Whereof I will bring a just and convenient argument. So far was I amused and blinded by this way of considering, that what things I had be­fore clearly and certainly (as I my self, and others also thought) known; that was I obliged to unlearn and forget, and to doubt of very many others also, and chiefly of this, why a man grows and increases in stature and strength: for this I before thought to be evident to every one, that he was nourished, because he eat and drank: and that so he came to be increased in bulk and stature: and when from meats, particu­larly from flesh, there comes an addition of flesh, and bones are added to bones, and so [Page 192] in the same manner to all other parts their own proper nourishment is brought and as­similated: I thought that by this means a man was increased, from a little tiny infant; to his full stature. These were my thoughts then; and do you think them reasonable and satisfactory? To me, saith Cebes, they seem to be so. Now consider also what re­mains: I also thought the matter to be suf­ficiently evident, when a great man stood by a little man, that he was greater by the head; and one Horse greater than ano­ther, and what's yet more evident, that ten were more than eight, because two had been added to eight, and that two cubits were more than one, because of double the length. And now, saith Cebes, what think you of these things? Far, by Jove, saith he, very far I am from thinking, that I under­stood the cause of them: so that now I can­not satisfie my self, whether if one be ad­ded to one, the first one be two; or whether that which hath been added, and that to which it is added, be made two, by the ad­dition of one to the other: for I wonder, if when each of them was single and apart, both were one, and not two; but after their growing neerer one to the other, that very coming together hath been the cause why [Page 193] they were made one. Nor if a man by cut­ting divide one into two, can I yet under­stand, how this cutting asunder of one thing, hath been the cause why they are two: for that cause is then contrary to their being two: for then when they were pla­ced neerer together, and one was put to the other: and now when they are remo­ved and separated one from the other; I cannot perswade my self, that I know, that one is made. Nor do I know any thing else (to speak all in a word) why it is, or why it ceaseth to be, or whether things be made in that manner and order [that Natu­ral History hath delivered:] but I lightly mix therewith some other mode; and this I in no sort embrace.Here accomoda­ting his last dis­course concerning the unreasonablenes of acquiessing in se­condary and remote Causes, to his pre­sent subject, he reprehends Anaxagoras; first for that put­ting a certain Universal Mind (as he called it) for the First Cause of all things, he had notwithstanding by searching more curiously into second Causes, and ascribing more to them, than was fit, destroyed that First Cause or Mind, by himself supposed; then for that in assigning second Causes, he had sixed upon Remote ones, such as could not shew, what was Best; that is, what is proper and peculiar to every things▪ But when on a time I heard one reading and relaving out of a cer­tain Book (as he said) of Anaxagoras, that there is a certain [ [...]] Mind that [Page 194] disposeth and governeth all things in order, and is the cause of all things: I was much delighted with the Universal Cause, and thought it to be in some degree rightly com­parated, namely that a Mind is the cause of all things; and I thus determined with my self, that if there be such a Mind that go­verns and disposes all things, then certainly it doth dispose all things to the best advan­tage, and place every thing where it is most convenient it should be placed. I added, that if any man would desire to investigate the causes of singular things, how they are made, and how they perish; he would be obliged to enquire also, by what reason, and in what manner it hath been best for them to be, or to suffer or act any thing; and that from this reason, nothing is to be under­stood by man, both concerning himself, and of other things, but what is best and most excellent; and in fine, that it is necessary also that he understand what is Worst: [...] There is the same Science of them. for that of contrary things there is the same Know­ledg, When I considered this Doctrine, I with very great pleasure thought, that now I had found a Master, who would ac­cording to my own hearts desire, teach me [Page 195] the causes of things, Anaxagoras; and that he would explain to me first whether the Earth were flat and broad, or round; and then would adjoyn also a more copious ex­plication of that first Cause, and of Necessity; that is, what is Best [for every singular na­ture] and why that should be best. Where­fore if he should affirm the Earth to be pla­ced in the middle, he would more-over give Reasons why it was best for it to have that position. And if he should have suffi­ciently explained these things to me, I had resolved with my self to lay down no other Theory, or Form of Causes. And now I had prepared my self to enquire of him con­cerning both the Sun, and the Moon, and the rest of the Planets and Stars; namely of their celerity and conversions, and mutual re­spects, and other Affections and Apparen­ces; how far it was most commodious for every one of them, to do and to suffer, what they did and suffered. For I did not think, that he who taught, that all things are composed and governed by a Mind, would allege any other cause of them, than this, that it was Best for them to be as they are. And so when he attributed and as­signed a cause to every thing in particular, and in common to all things; I conceived he [Page 196] would not assign that for a cause to every thing in particular, namely what was pro­perly and peculiarly best for each particu­lar thing; and to all in general, what was their common and universal Good. Thus my hopes were great, and I pleased my self with mighty expectations, such as I would not have parted with for a very great sum of money; and with earnest study I took those Books into my hands, and with as much speed as I could, I read them quite through; that I might quickly understand the Best and the Worst. But (believe me) I soon fell from that lofty hope: for when I had made some progress in reading those Books, I perceived the man to use neither mind nor judgment, nor to assign any Causes to the composition and order of things with conveniency: but putting cer­tain Aerial and Ethererial [influences] and many other absurd [Chimera's] for the true Causes of things.An Example fitly remonstrating the folly of assigning Se­cond Causes. And me thinks, the same fortune be­falls him, that belongs to a­ny other who should say, Whatsoever Socrates doth, he doth with a Mind, and with judgment: and then designing to explicate the causes of the particular actions I do, should further [Page 197] say, first that I sit here, because my Body consists of bones and nerves; and that my bones are solid and firm, and have their dif­ferences and intervals of joynts betwixt them; and that my nerves are so contrived and formed, that they may be extended and relaxed again, and environ and bind the bones together with the flesh and skin, which contains and invests them. When therefore the bones are raised up in their joynts, the sinews which are one while up­on the stretch, and by and by relaxed, cause me to have the faculty of moving, bowing, and extending my limbs: and that by this cause I come to sit bowed forwards in this posture. And that he might explicate the causes of this my conference with you, should affirm them to be certain words or voices formed of aire, and hearing, and infi­nite others equally remote, but should neg­lect the true and certain cause; namely that the Athenians having been pleased by gi­ving their suffrages to condemn me: I am likewise pleased to sit here; and it seems more just, that I should suffer the punish­ment they have doomed me to suffer. Since, by the* Dogg-starr, those bones of mine [Page 198] had long ago been carried (as I think) a­mong the Megarensians or Baeotians, Here Socrates is made to reflect up­on, and occasionally justifie his refusal to fly to the Megaren­sians, or to the Beo­tians, when Crito would have perswa­ded him to escape, and assisted him therein; as at large is recorded by Pla­to in his Dialogue intitled Crito. by order of that Best; if I had not judged it more just and honorable to undergo, and patiently endure the pu­nishment which the City hath decreed for me; than to live a fugitive or exile in another Country. But to call these things, Causes, is extremely impertinent. Whereas if one should say, that unless I had both bones and sinews, I could not do what actions I had a mind to do, he would indeed speak truth. And yet notwithstanding if any man should affirm, that by reason of my bones and nerves, I do the actions I do, and that I so far do them with understanding and a Mind, but not upon choice of the Best; tru­ly he would reason but negligently and su­pinely. For this in truth, is not to be able to distinguish and discern, that really there is another cause; and another something, without which a cause is not a cause. In which error they seem to me to be involved and amused, who groping as it were in the dark, and abusing the propriety of that [Page 199] name, call that Second a Cause. Some there­fore, while they place about the Earth a great gulph of Waters beneath the Hea­vens, will have it that the Earth come there­by to consist and remain firm: others prop up the Aire, its fundament, as with a b [...]d Kneading-tubb. But that virtue or power which hath been able to constitute things themselves in the best manner, what it is, and how it doth consist; this (I say) they en­quire not, nor conceive it to have a Divine force and Energy: but imagine they have found a new Atlas stronger than the first, and by a kind of immortality much more lasting, and more comprehensive of all things; and think that that Good and Beauti­ful [Being] doth bind together, and contain [and support] nothing. For my part, I would gladly learn from any man, the nature and proprieties of that Cause, whatsoever they be. But since I have not been able, ei­ther of my self to find it, or to understand from any other, what it is: are you, Cebes, willing I should give you an account of the Second Voyage I with exquisite study de­signed and attempted, for the finding of that Cause? I vehemently desire to hear it, saith he.

[Page 200]When my mind was grown weary and faint with considering things intently, I per­ceived my self obliged to beware, lest that might befal me, which usually happens to those who gaze upon the Sun in an Eclipse. For their faculty of seeing would be taken from them, unless they beheld the image of the Sun in Water, or in some other the like [Diaphanous and Specular] body. Some­thing like this came into my mind, and I feared lest my understanding might be wholly blinded, if I looked upon things themselves with my eyes, and attempted to touch them with my senses.What way So­crates took in his re-searches of the First cause; coming to knowledg there­of by certain de­grees; viz. by Rea­sons and Discourses; which yet he saith were efficacious and powerful, lest we might conceive some imaginary know­ledg to be thereby signified, Plato ther­fore affirms, that as God is the most potent cause of all things, so he is also the sole and most certain Cause of the Soul. Which fundament is to be laid down as necessary to this disquisition, before we come to other reasons nearer to us. I held it therefore very well worth my labour, to have recourse to Reason, or at least to that discourse which retains the prints of reason; and therein to contemplate the nature and verity of things. But perhaps this Simile or Ex­ample whereby I have en­deavoured to represent this matter, will not be exactly [Page 201] fit and consentaneous. For I do not fully grant, that he who contemplates things in the [mirror of] reason or discourse, doth contemplate them rather in images than in works Nevertheless I took this course, and laying for a foundation, that reason which I judg to be most valid and most firm; what things appear to me to have congruity therewith, those I put for true, both as to Causes, and to all others: and on the con­trary, what have no congruity therewith, those I conclude to be untrue. Which ha­ving thus noted in general, I will explain it more fully to you: for yet, I conceive you understand it not. Not very well, by Jove, saith Cebes. Yet replies he, I here speak no­thing a new; but the very same I have, both at other times, and in my precedent dispu­tation perpetually declared. For I am go­ing to shew to you the image of that Cause, in the re-search whereof I have thus long been versed: and I again return to those [ [...]] renowned [Excellencies] and from them deduce my beginning; lay­ing this down for a principle, That there is a something Beautiful, Good and Great, and every way perfect in and by it self. Which if you grant, I hope I shall, from those at­tributes of perfection, first shew you an [Page 202] image of that Supreme Cause, and then con­vince you, that the Soul is immortal. But saith Cebes, supposing I grant this [your Fundamental] there is no need of a longer preface to support your conclusion. Consi­der then, saith he, what are the consequen­ces of those Perfections? if at least your opinion be the same with mine. For thus I think, if there be any other Beautiful be­sides that self-beautiful, that it is Beautiful no otherwise, than as it is participant of the same self-beautiful; and the same I affirm of all. Do you embrace this Cause? I em­brace it, saith he. I therefore, saith he a­gain, understand no more; nor can I com­prehend those wise Causes: but if any en­quire of me, why any thing is beautiful, or why it hath a florid colour, or elegant fi­gure, or any other the like fair quality; I securely pass by and neglect all other Cau­ses, (with all which truly I am amused and perplexed) and simply, and genuinely with­out any Sophistry, and perhaps also foolish­ly, determine with my self, that nothing makes that thing beautiful, but either the presence, or communication of that self-beautiful, by what reason or way soever that hath come to it. For that I do not yet affirm: but this above all things I maintain, [Page 203] An Axiom, cer­tain and evident, that whatsoever is in the University of Nature, hath both its existence and form from God a­lone, who is the first and true Cause of all things. And that is the first funda­ment of the Souls immortality, viz. that God hath en­dowed man with an immortal Soul; which was before demon­strated by Socrates, who therefore in this place, only brings Examples for illustration. that by the sole virtue and efficacy of that Beauti­ful, all things are made beau­tiful: for this I take to be the safest answer I can give both to my self, and to o­thers: and firmly adhering to this truth, I believe I shall never be divorced from it; and think it safe to answer both to my self and others, that by that Beautiful alone all things that are beauti­ful, are made so. Do you think so too? I do. Like­wise by Magnitude, that those things that are great, are made great; and those that are greater, are made greater; and those that are less, are made less by smalness. Certainly. Nei­ther would you admit, if any should say that some other is greater by the head, and another less by the head: but profess that you say▪ nothing else but this, that whatever one thing is greater than another, comes to be so by no other cause but magnitude: and whatever is less, comes to be so only by smalness, and therefore is less by reason of smalness it self. Fearing, I think, lest, if [Page 204] you should have said, that such or such a man is greater or less by the head; another might contradict you, opposing this, that a man otherwise little, is bigger in the head than another otherwise bigger. Besides, that you say, the greater is greater by t e head, (which is but a small thing) that is some Monstre, that you should affirm a thing to be great by that which is little. Are you not afraid of this answer? Yes, saith Cebes smil­ing. Are you then afraid, saith he, to say that ten are more than eight by two, and exceed two by that ration, but not by reason of multitude: and that two Cubits are greater than one Cubit by the half, but not by magnitude? for there is the same fear. There is, saith he. And what? if one be put to one, will you say that that putting or accession is the cause why they are made two: or if one be divided, are you not a­fraid to affirm that division to be the cause why one is made two? may you not cry out aloud, that you are ignorant by what other reason things exist, unless so far as every thing is participant of its own proper na­ture: and so you have no other reason, why two are made, than (that I may so speak) the participation of Duity or Two­ness. So that it is necessary, that those things [Page 205] which are to become two, participate of that Duity: and those that are to be one, partake of Ʋnity? But as for those cuttings asunder, those puttings together, and other the like witty trifles; you may very well omit them all; and leave the honor of an­swering them, to those that are wiser than your self. But you fearing your own sha­dow (as they say) and diffident of your own ignorance, would you, certainly ad­hering to the firmness of that Position, in good earnest answer so? and if any man should rely upon that same position, would you neglect him, and not answer, until you had considered the consequents, whether in your judgment some of them agreed or disagreed with others. And when you should be obliged to render a reason there­of, would you in like manner, laying down another Hypothesis, grant those of the pre­mises that seemed best, until you should ar­rive at what is just and fit? At the same time you would not confound things them­selves (as the Contentious use to do) dispu­ting both of the principle resolved upon, and of the consequents arising naturally from that principle: at least if you desired to find out some of those things which truly are; for those perhaps have no consideration, no [Page 206] care of these things: but are endowed with so singular a faculty, that they are able by their wisdom to commix and confound all things, and yet please themselves at the same time. And as for you, if you be one of those Philosophers, you will (I think) do what I say. You speak very great truths, an­swer Cebes and Simmias.

Ech.

They answered rightly, by Jove, Phedo; for it seems to me, that he spake ad­mirably well, and perspicuously to the sense and capacity of a man, even of a vulgar wit.

Phe.

He did, Echecrates; and so all that were present, judged.

Ech.

We who were not present, are of the same judgment, hearing only the re­hearsal. But what were his Discourses af­terward.

Phe.

Another Socratic Argument of the Souls immortaiity, taken from the proxim reasons of Second Causes, from whence follows the same Conclusion; af­ter requisite Positi­ons. These, as neer as I can remember: When these things were granted, and it was agreed upon among us, that single Species or I­mages are something, and that other things which communicate with them, do challenge to themselves their Sirname: he then proceeds to interro­gations. [Page 207] Seeing you say so, saith he; do you not in saying that Simmias is greater than Socrates, but less than Phedo; imply, that in Simmias are both Greatness and Smalness at once? I do so. But saith he, you confess in that that Simmias exceeds Soerates, it is not in reality so, as it is expres­sed in words.First Position; that in the collation of things, the things themselves are not to be considered simply, but their Relations or respects one to another. For you think not that Simmias is so comparated by nature, as he is Simmias; but only in respect of the magnitude wherewith he is endowed: nor that he exceeds Socra­tes, as he is Socrates, but that Socrates hath smalness, being compared to Simmias his greatness. Right. Nor that Simmias is exceeded by Phedo, as he is Phedo; but be­cause compared to the smalness of Simmias, Phedo is endowed with greatness. Right a­gain. Thus then Simmias hath the appella­tion of both great and little, since placed in the middle of them, he exceeds the one in greatness, and by reason of his smalness, yeilds to the others greatness. And at the same time smiling, I seem, saith he, to be de­lighted with words like an Historian. Is it not as I say? He assented. This I say out of desire, that you may be of the same opinion [Page 208] with my self.Second Position; that contraries, as contraries, are nei­ther made, nor ca­pable of existing to­gether; but either give place each to other, or perish, when one comes upon another. For I con­ceive, that Magnitude it self is not only never willing to be both great and small at once; but also that the magnitude which is in us, never receives smalness, nor wills to be exceeded: but of the two, one either va­nishes and gives place, when its contrary, namely smalness, approaches; or is destroy­ed, when the other appears: for when it hath once received and put on smalness, it can be no longer greatness, nor is it willing to be other than what it then is. As I, when I have received and put on smalness, and am yet the same that I am; or am this same little I. But that hath not dared, since it is great, to be little. In the same manner also that little that is in us, would not be made great: nor will one of two contraries, while it is what it is, become what the other is; but ei­ther it gives place, or perishes in this passi­on. Very right, saith Cebes, as I conceive.* Then one of those who were present [Page 209] (who it was, I do not well remember) by the Gods, saith he, was it not granted in the precedent disputation, that one contrary may have being out of the other, viz. that a greater hath existence out of a less, and a less out of a greater: and that this is the ge­neration of Contraries out of Contraries? and now it seems tome to be said, that that never is done. Here Socrates having in­clined his ear to the speaker, you have, saith he, manfully remembred what was delive­red: but you understand not the diffe­rence betwixt what is now said, and what was said before.That Objection solved, by reconcili­ation of the two Positions seemingly repugnant. Where he also distinguishes betwixt the form of a contrary, and the Subject that is su­sceptible of a con­trary; making good his Thesis by various examples. In the precedent dispute it was said, that out of one contra­ry is made another: but here 'tis said, that a contra­ry cannot be contrary to it self; neither that which is in us, nor that which is in nature. Then we spake of those things that have con­traries, giving these the Sir­name of those: Now we speak of Contra­ries themselves, whose Sirname those things wherein they are, obtain. And these con­traries we could never affirm to be willing to receive mutual generation one from the [Page 210] other. And converting his eyes upon Ce­bes, he said, doth any of these things trouble you, Cebes? Neither am I discomposed, saith Cebes, nor doth what you say trouble me.He returns to his Second Position; and both proves and il­lustrates it by Ex­amples. We are then agreed saith he, that a contrary can never be contrary to it self. We are so, saith Cebes. Consider this therefore with me, saith he; whether you can assent to it. Do you call any thing hot and cold? yes. What? as Snow and Fire? No. Is any other thing hot, but fire: any thing cold, but Snow? yes certainly. But this you conceive (I think) that Snow, while it con­tinues Snow, will never receive heat (as we said above) but at the accession of it, either yield to it, or be abolished. Right. And that fire, at the accession of Cold, will likewise go out, or be destroyed; but never dare, after the admission of Cold, to be what it was, namely fire and cold. You say true, saith Cebes. ToIn Numbers, and their various forms. some of this sort also it usually happens, that they not only perpetu­ally account and design the same Species by the same name, but some other thing too, which indeed is not that, though it alwaies hath the form thereof, when it existeth. But [Page 211] now perhaps what I say, will be more easi­ly explained in this manner. Ought an Odd number to have this name wherewith we now mark it, or not? Yes doubtless. This a­lone of all things (for this I ask) or somewhat else, which though different from Odd, ought nevertheless alwaies to call it by its own name; because the nature of it is such as never to defect from Odd? This I say, is that very thing, as the number of three, and many other numbers suffer. Now consider this in the number Three; are Three to be called both by their own name, Three, and by that of Odd also, though Odd be not the same with a Triad, or Ternary? But thus comparated is also a Ternary, and Five, and every half of a number; so that though it be not the same as Odd, yet al­waies every one of them is Odd. Two like­wise, and Four, and again every other Series of number, though it be not the same as E­ven; yet must alwaies be Even. Do you grant this, or not? Why should I not? saith he. Observe then saith he, what I design to de­monstrate; it is this.A Third Thesis dependent on the precedents. That what admits a con­trary quality, is One thing; and the con­trary quality admit­ted another, The Contrary Subject therefore remains, while contrary qua­lities are variously induced; but so, that contrary quali­ties cannot be in the same mode. But so long as a contrary quality is present, it communicates its nature and name to the subject; as while an Odd number shall be present, that number will be, and be called Odd▪ while Heat shall be in a body, the body will be, and be called hot, &c. It seems, that not only those Contraries are incapable of mutually receiving each o­ther, but all other things [Page 212] whatsoever, which though they be not contrary among themselves, yet alwaies have contraries: nor do they seem capable to put on that form which is contrary to the Species wherein they are: but when that contrary form once intervenes, they presently either perish, or give place. Shall we not say, that Three will sooner pe­rish, or suffer any thing else, than endure to be made E­ven? Yes, saith Cebes. And yet, saith he again, the number Two is not contrary to the number Three. It is not, truly. Therefore not only contrary Species admit not the accession of one to another mutual­ly; but some other contraries also abhor, and are incapable to suffer that mutual accessi­on. You speak with great probability, saith Cebes. Will you then, saith he, that, if we be able, we define of what quality these things are? With all my heart, saith he. Will they not be such, Cebes, which so conform what­soever they possess, as not only to force it to retain its own Species of form, but also [Page 213] suffer it not to admit and put on the Species or form of any Contrary whatsoever? How say you to this, saith Cebes? As we said a little before: for you know it to be neces­sary, that that which contains the Species of Three, is not only Three, but also Odd. Right. For this reason we said, that the Spe­cies contrary to that form which makes this, can never be induced. By no means. Hath the Species of Odd perfected that form? Certainly. And is the Species of Even con­trary to the Species of Odd. It is. Therefore the species of Even shall never force it self upon Three. Never. Are Three then free from she ration of Even? Free. Therefore tste number Three is odd. Certainly. What therefore I undertook to define, I have now defined; namely,He repeateth what he had above distinctly applica­ted, viz. that contra­ry qualities cannot be together in the same subject; but one of necessity ex­pelleth the other. But the subjects themselves admit contraries succes­sively. that of what sort those things are, which being contrary to none, yet admit not a Con­trary; as now the number Three is not at all contrary to Even, and yet is never­theless incapable thereof. For the number Two al­waies infers a contrary to Odd, and Fire a Contrary to Cold; and the like of very many others [Page 214] But consider whether you agree that the matter ought to be defined thus; That a Contrary doth not only not receive its con­trary; but that also which may adfer any contrary to that, to which it self may come, namely that which adfers it, doth never ad­mit a form contrary to the form of that which is adferred. But again rub up your memory; for 'tis no incommodity to hear the same again. The number Five never admits the ration of Even; nor the number of Ten (the duple of five) the ration of Odd. This therfore, being it self contrary to ano­ther, will yet never admit the ration of Odd. Nor will that number and half that number, or half a number admit the ration of the whole, nor a third part, &c. at least if you comprehend my meaning, and assent unto me. I both understand your sense, saith he, and assent without the least doubt or scruple.

Here recomoda­ting his precedent Suppositions; and treating of second Causes; he first evin­ceth this, that we are to seek, not re­mote, but proxime causes; not (as his Interpreters speak) Accidentary, but substantial ones; as he teaches by the Ex­amples alleged.But tell me again, reflect­ing upon our precedent po­sitions; (yet I would not have you answer to the questions I ask, expresly [Page 215] and in the same prints of words [as before.] For besides that certain way of answering, of which I have treated before, I find ano­ther naturally arising from the things said by us just now, and this certain and firm; for example, if you ask me what that is, which if it be in a body, the body will be hot; I will not give that gross and ignorant answer, that it is Heat; but a more elegant and polite one, from our last conclusions, namely that it is fire. Nor, if you ask, what that is, which if it invade the body, the bo­dy will be sick: will I answer, that it is a disease, but more precisely, that it is a Fea­ver: and if you ask me what is that, which if it intervene to a number, the number will be Odd: I will not say, it is imparity or Oddness, but Ʋnity: and of others in the same manner. But look if you sufficiently understand me. Very clearly, saith he. An­swer me then, what is that which if it be in the body,First Theorem, the Soul is the proxim cause of life in man. the body will be alive. The Soul, saith he. And is not that alwaies so? Why not, saith he? The Soul therefore alwaies brings life to the Body it embraceth, whatsoever the Body be? It doth alwaies bring life, saith he. Is any thing contrary to Life, or not? Yes, saith [Page 216] he.Second Theorem; death is contrary to life, and therefore contrary to the Soul, which is the cause of life: and conclusi­on; therefore the Soul admits not death; from the con­ceded supposition, that one Contrary never admits of a­nother. What? Death. The Soul therefore shall never receive the contrary to that which it self alwaies indu­ceth, as hath been granted from our late conclusions. True, saith Cebes. What then? That which admits not the Species or ration of Even, by what name do we now call it? Odd, saith he. And what do we call that which admits not Ju­stice, or Music? That we call Ʋnjust; this Immusical. Consummation of that Conclusion, from adjuncts: the Soul receives not death; therefore it is immortal. What do we call that which is in­capable of Death? Immor­tal, saith he. Is not the Soul capable of Death? No. Therefore the Soul is a thing immortal. It is immortal. Well then, saith he, shall we acknowledg this to be thus demonstrated? or what think you of it? Demonstrated perfectly, Socrates, saith he.* What therefore, saith he, if it were [Page 217] necessary, that Odd be free and exempt from all destruction, would not Three also be free and exempt from all destruction? Why not? Therefore, if it were necessary, that that which is wholly void of Heat, be likewise free and exempt from all destructi­on; when a man should induce Hot upon Snow, would the Snow go out safe and un­melted? for it would not then perish, when it had once admitted and received heat. You say true, quoth he. In the same man­ner, I opine, if that which is void of Cold, were free from all destruction; when any cold thing should be brought to fire, it would not be destroyed or perish, but go away safe and intire. Of necessity, saith he. We are therefore by necessity obliged to conclude the same of an Immortal. For if what is immortal, be free and exempt from all destruction, 'tis impossible the Soul should perish, when death comes to it. For from our late Positions, it will not suffer or un­dergo death, and so not dye: as a Ternary will never (as we have said) be Even; nor will Odd be by any means Even; nor Fire be Cold, nor the Heat which is in fire, be coldness. But some may Object, What hin­ders that Odd may not be made Even, if Even be added, as hath been granted: and Odd [Page 218] being extinct, Even succeed into the room thereof? To him that should thus argue, we could not (I confess) deny, but that Odd may perish; for Odd it self is not ex­empt from all destruction: Since, if that were not agreed upon among us, we might easily evince, that when Even comes in place, Odd and the Ternary instantly fly a­way; and so we might firmly determine of fire and hot, and the rest. Might we not? Yes. Last conclusion; that the Soul is both immortal, and free from all de­struction, which is certainly demon­strated from the gi­ven and proved Hy­pothesis of proxim and cognate cau­ses. Now therefore of an immortal also; since we are now agreed, that an Im­mortal is absolutely free and exempt from all de­struction; it is demonstra­ted beyond all doubt or dispute, that the Soul, since it is immortal, is free and immune from all destruction: but if that be not granted, it will require another disputa­tion. But, saith he, in good truth there is no need of further dispute, as to that point. For it is impossible, that any thing whatever should escape death, if this immortal and sempiternal undergo corruption and destru­ction.

A confirmation of the Immortality and indissolubility of the Soul, from the first and principal Cause [God] which being [...], the very form of life, the Soul also must be sempiter­nal; because Divine? and made after the Exemplar of that primary Idea, which is confessed in the former disputation.That God, saith Socrates, the very form of life (as I [Page 219] conceive) and if there be a­ny other Immortal, can ne­ver dye; is confessed by all men. By all, by Jove, saith Cebes, not only men, but Gods too I believe An Im­mortal therefore, being in­capable of Corruption; what else ought we to con­clude, than that the Soul, since it is certainly immor­tal, must be also free and exempt from all destruction? It is absolutely necessary. When therefore death comes to a man, what is in him mortal, doth (as is manifest) die: but what is immortal, departs safe and free from all corruption, giving place to death. It seems so. Then without all doubt, Ce­bes, the Soul is a thing immortal, and free from destruction: and certainly our Souls will eternally survive apud inferos. I can say no more to this, saith Cebes; nor any way deny my assent to your Reasons. But if Simmias, or any other hath any new matter to object, he shall do well not to conceal it: since I do not see to what more convenient time he can differ the handling of these things, if he desire either to speak, or to hear any thing concerning them. I also, [Page 220] saith Simmias, have nothing that detains me from submitting my faith to all you have explained in your former discourse. And yet by reason of the Grandure and Excel­lency of the things commemorated, while I think Human infirmity not at all worthy of so great Endowments and Prerogatives, I find my self constrained, not yet intirely to resign up my belief to your later conclusi­sions. You speak with good reason, Sim­mias, saith Socrates, and modestly: for those our first Suppositions, though we be per­swaded of their verity, are yet more dili­gently and accuratly to be considered: But if ye shall, after they have been decently and with just reason examined and explica­cated, once receive them: ye will under­stand the whole matter, as far as mans intel­lect is capable to comprehend things of that [abstruse] nature: and if that be once made clear and evident, ye will require no more. You have reason, saith he.

The Third part of the discourse, arising from the conclusi­sion of the Souls immortality, and concerning the state of it after death; which Socrates blindly describes, from the opinion of the vulgar and superstitious fictions of Poets.But my Friends, saith he, 'tis fit we make diligent in­quisition into this also; that [Page 221] if the Soul be immortal, we are highly concerned to take care of it, not only in respect of this short time, which we define by the name of life, but of Eternity that re­mains after this life: and the danger now seems to be great, if any man shall neglect his Soul. For if Death be a separation and dissolution of the whole, it were to be re­puted an advantage and emolument to dis­solute and wicked men, that when they are dead, they might be freed from their Bo­dy and Soul, and improbity all at once: Whereas now it is manifest, that the Soul is immortal; a man hath no other way to a­void Evils, and acquire security from future dangers, but to become as wise and virtuous as is possible. For the Soul departing hence to the Mansions of Ghosts, carries along with it nothing but its former manners and education, which are said to be of very great moment, either to the importance of Utility, or aggravation of loss to him who is dead, when he first arrives there. And Tradition tells us, that every one of the dead is by that very Demon that attended on him living, purposely led into a certain place, where it is ordained, all Ghosts as­sembled together, must receive their Doom, and according to the form of Judgment ra­tified [Page 222] and constituted, go to the Infernal Mansions, with that Guide, to whom com­mand is given to conduct those who are at those places. But when they have obtained those things they ought to obtain, and re­mained there the time appointed; another Leader brings them back again, after many and long periods of time. But this Jour­ney is not such as Telephus in Aeschylus de­scribes to be; for he affirms, there is but one way, and that Uniform too, that leads to the Infernal Mansions: whereas to me it seems more probable, the way is neither Uniform, nor Single: for if there were but one way, neither would there be any need of Guides, nor could any Soul go out of it. But now this seems to have many by­wayes, diversions, and intricate windings: whereof I make a conjecture from Sacrifi­ces, and other Rites and Ceremonies belon­ging to Religion, which are here perfor­med. Further, a moderate and prudent Soul, both follows his Guide willingly and chearfully, and knows things present: but a Soul fetter'd with sense of Lusts, and com­merce with the Body (as we formerly de­clared] still hankering after the Body with an affrighting and tumultuary error, and striving much, and suffering much about a [Page 223] visible-place; is not without extreme diffi­culty at length led away by that Demon, to whom the care of it was committed. And when it comes to that place where other Souls are; from this impure Soul, which hath either committed Murder, or polluted it self with some other crime; or perpretra­ted some other villanous act of kin to that wickedness, such as are the works of impious Souls: from this Soul, I say, every Soul flies away with detestation, and will be neither Companion, nor Guide unto it; while it self wanders up and down, hardly pressed and hemmed in with the greatest streights im­maginable, until certain prefixt moments of time arrive; which being elapsed, it is then by a certain necessity hurried to that place which hath been destined for its habitation. But the Soul that hath led a life of purity and moderation, having obtained the Gods for both companions and Guides, inhabits that place, which hath been peculiarly and properly assigned unto it.

There are many and wonderful places of the Earth:Coments of men concerning the man­sions of departed souls, vain and un­certain. which yet is nei­ther such, nor so great as it is thought to be by some, who are wont to speak of it, as I have heard [Page 224] from one. And here Simmias interrupting him, saith, how say you this, Socrates? for I also have heard many things concerning the Earth: but not the same perhaps that that man hath perswaded you to believe; and therefore I desire to hear from you his opinion. But Simmias, saith Socrates, the art of Glaucus it self seems insufficient to ex­plain those so great and abstruse things; and to prove by convincing arguments, that they are true, appears to me more difficult, than that Glaucus should be able by all his skill to perform. To render so great and reserved mysteries intelligible by discourse, I perhaps may be unable: and if I under­stood them, yet would not the short remain­der of my life suffice to so prolix and copi­ous an Argument. Yet nothing hinders but I may adventure briefly to describe to you the form of the Earth, and its places, such as I have received them to be. And this, saith Simmias, will be enough, the nar­rowness of our capacity considered. This then, saith he, I have fixed and established in my belief; first, if the Earth be placed in the middle of the Universe, on all sides en­compassed by Heaven equally distant from it; then it needs not the defence or guard of any thing, either of the Aire, or of any [Page 225] other prop or support, to secure it from fal­ling; but is able to sustain it self, since Hea­ven that environs it, is in all its parts the same, and the Earth it self equally ballanced, and placed in the middle of another thing whose parts are all the same and equidistant; can neither more nor less swerve or decline to any side: and what is alwaies in the same manner disposed, is constantly per­manent in the same place, without the least or tendency or inclination to any other. This (I say) is my first perswasion, And a right one it is, saith Simmias. My next is, that the face of the Earth is broad and large: and that we inhabit the places from the Ri­ver Phasis to Hercules his pillars, in a very small spot, as Pismires about the extended plain of some wide field, or as Froggs about the Sea: and various other Nations dwell in other places. For, that there are through the whole Earth, many and various Conca­vities, from both the form it self, and bulk of its magnitude, into which both Aire, and Darkness, and Water have followed toge­ther. But that the pure Earth it self is sea­ted in a pure Heaven, wherein are the Stars, and what very many of those who are wont to speak of these matters, call Aether: the dreggs and sediment whereof these [Page 226] things are, and flow together into the hol­lows of the earth. Yet that we who inha­bit in these Hollows, know not that we do so, but imagine that we dwell upon the higher parts of the Earth; as if a man dwel­ling at the bottom of the Sea, should think he dwelt above upon the Surface, and be­holding the Sun and other Stars through the Water, conceive the Sea it self to be Heaven: and by reason of the slowness and infirmity of his understanding, having never come up to the top of the Sea, nor beheld it, nor risen up, and put his head above Water into this our place, could not know how much more beautiful and pleasant this lightsom Region is, than that obscure and deep one is, where he resides: nor heard from any other who had seen our place. This (I say) is exactly our case: For, inhabiting in some Hollow of the Earth, we conceive, that we are seated upon the eminent pla­ces thereof, and call the Air, Heaven: as if the Stars really moved through the Air, as Heaven; and we beheld their motions and wayes. And that herein we are so amused and confounded, that by reason of our slowness and infirmity, we cannot penetrate to the highest air. Since, if any should ar­rive at the top of it, and as with wings fly [Page 227] up thither, when he had gotten his head once above it, he would behold all these things clearly: just as if Fishes mounting up out of the Sea, should behold our pla­ces, so would he. And if he were by nature qualified for contemplation, he would soon know, that it is the true Heaven, and true Light, and true Earth; for both the Earth, and the Stones, and all this place are cor­rupted and eaten away; as things in the Sea are, by the saltness thereof. Nor is any thing of value, any thing perfect bred com­monly in the Sea; but Caverns, and Sand, and an infinite quantity of mud and filth are in it, and where Earth is: which are in no respect to be compared to our Beauties. But those Above seem to excel ours. Now to describe what kind of Countries there are in the Earth, I shall think it no trouble to relate to you a Fable pleasant, and wor­thy your attention. That, saith Simmias, would we fain hear. In the beginning therefore, they say the face of the Earth appeared to the sight such, as (if a man looked down from on high, and survey'd it) our little Balls made up of twelve square pieces of Leather put together, various in­deed, and distinguished by several colours; not unlike the colours Painters use, as sam­ples, [Page 228] here with us: That there all the Earth doth consist of these various colours, much more splendid, bright and pure then ours are: one, purple, exceedingly fair and deep; another, shining like Gold; but that which is white, is whiter than Chalk or Snow, and composed of other colours also, both more and more beautiful than have ever been seen by our eyes. Then that those very Cavities of the Earth, being full of Water and Air, represent a certain kind of colour, shining through in a variety of other co­lours, so that the form thereof may be per­ceived both simple and various at once. That herein thus constituted, the same things are in the same manner produced, Trees, Flowers, Fruits: and Mountains and Stones have the same forms and qualities, in perfe­ction, in perspicuity, and in colours, far more beautiful than our pretious Stones are, which are but thin particles of those; Sardo­nixes, and Jaspers, and Emeralds, and all o­thers of great price: and that there is no­thing there, but what vastly excells all our finest Rarities of the same sort. That the cause of this vast difference is, because the Stones there are pure, not (as ours are) fret­ted and eaten by putrefaction and saltness, from the things that flow in together hither, [Page 229] and that produce diseases and decayes in Stones, in Plants, and in Animals of our Earth. That the Earth it self is every where adorned with such fine productions, and moreover with Gold and Silver, and other Mettals: which naturally shine in a won­derful manner, as being both very many, very great, and dispersed through the whole Earth: so that to behold it, is a most de­lightful sight to the happy Spectators. That there are in that Earth, living Creatures al­so of very many Kinds, and Men too: of whom some live in Mediterranean places, o­thers about the Air, as we about the Sea; others in Islands, which the Air invirons, as scituate in the very Continent. In summe, in those places, the Air is to them, what the Sea is to us, and serves them for the same uses: only this, their Air is our Aether. And the seasons of the year are with them so admirably constituted in point of temper, that the men there live both free from Dis­eases, and much longer than ours: and in see­ing, hearing, understanding, and other the like faculties, they as far excel us, as Air ex­cels Water, and the Aether, Aire, in purity. That there are likewise Groves and Tem­ples of Gods, who reside in them, and give Answers and Prophesies from Oracles; and [Page 230] the men hold familiar conversation and commerce with Gods themselves. That the Sun, and Moon, and other Stars are behe d by them clearly and distinctly as they are, and that they have this one felicity more to accompany them. That this is the form and constitution of the Earth, and the things that are about it. That there are places therein, and in the Hollows, and in the cir­cumference thereof, many, some deeper and wider, in which we dwell; others dee­per indeed, but of narrower mouths than that wherein we dwell: others again less profound than ours, but wider. That all these Cavities every where perforated one into another, and communicating by under­ground passages, have both by turnings and diversions, as well in narrower as in broa­der places; so that a vast plenty of Water flows out of some into others, as into Ci­sterns: and very great currents of Rivers, and perpetual springs of Waters, both cold and hot. Much fire also, whole Rivers of fire, and many streams of Water, Muddy, and Pure, and Dirty: as those Rivers in Si­cily, which flow from the Torrent called [ [...]] the muddy River; and the Tor­rent it self. That every one of those places are filled, according to the quantity of Wa­ter [Page 231] every day brought in; and that all these are moved up and down, like some hanging Vessel upon the Earth. But this Pensil Ves­sel, by reason of some such nature, is some one of the Gapings or Chasms of the Earth; and the very biggest of all, piercing from side to side through the whole Earth; which Homer himself intimated in that Verse, ‘Far hence in th' Earth there gapes a pit immense:’ Which both he elsewhere, and other Poets call Tartarus; and into which all Rivers have their confluence, re-flowing out of it by turns: But all Rivers are of the same nature as the Region is through which they run: and this is the cause why all both issue from thence, and return thither again: because that Humid hath neither bottom nor foun­dation; but is lifted up, and wavers upward and downward; and the air and breath a­bout it, doth the same: but follows it, both when it ascends, and when it descends to us. And as in living Creatures endowed with Respiration, the Spirit or Breath is in­spired and expired alternately: so here the Breath being raised up with moisture, yeilds winds, strong, & in ungoverned force almost infinite, while it rusheth in and out. But the Water, when stirred up by some impulse, it [Page 232] runs to that place, which is called Below; both flows into those gushing Lakes, and fills them; as those who drink full bowls: and when it runs out from thence, in its cir­culation tending thither again, it repleni­shes the places here. They thus replete, it flows on through passages and channels of the Earth. When all Fountains and Streams arrive at those places, whither Seas have more expeditely and opportunely flowed: they produce Lakes, Rivers, and Fountains. Thence going under ground again, some when they have travelled and compassed greater and more places, precipitate them­selves again into Tartarus, or the bottomless Gulph. some more deeply than whence they were exhausted; others less deeply: but all flow in more deeply, than whence they flowed out. Some pour in themselves through a part contrary to, and disparate from that out of which they had their ef­flux; others through the same. Some whee­led about in a circle, and once or often, in serpentine windings, Sires and spiral Mean­ders, infolding the Earth, as much as was possible; bowing downwards, impel them­selves forward, to descend where way is gi­ven them, to the very middle on each side, and no farther: for at each extreme Con­fluence, [Page 233] each part is impervious. There are besides these, many other Confluents of Wa­ters great and various: among all which are four, whereof the greatest and deepest flowing in a round, is called the Ocean. By a motion contrary to this, flows Acheron; which comes in through other desert places, and indeed running under ground, passes on to the Acherusiad Marish, where crowds of departed Souls have their common rendez­vous; and whence, after certain periods of time predestined by Fate, to some longer, to others shorter, they are remitted hither again to the generation of Animals. Betwixt these two runs the third River, and not far from its Sours, disembogues it self into a cer­tain great place, that burns with much fire, and there stagnating, makes a Mere or Lake greater than the Sea with us, and perpetu­ally boyling with water and mudd: hence it gusheth forth with violence, running in­to a round, troubled and full of filth; and having often fetched a compass under ground, pours it self into the deepest part of Tartarus; passing to the Extremes of the Acherusiad Marish, but not mixing with the Waters thereof. This is that River which they yet call Pyriphlegethon, the Burning Ri­ver of Hell; whose Rivulets with violent [Page 234] force making way through the broaken Earth, rise up wheresoever they can drill themselves a vent. Opposite to this, the Fourth River falls first into a place horrid with mouldiness and stinking damps, wild and savage (as they say) of a blew colour, which they call the Stygian place, that is the dismal seat of hate, fear, and grief; and the River flowing into it, makes the Stygian Lake; and falling in there, with mighty strength re-inforcing its Torrent, and thru­sting it self under ground, with a contrary flood, and various eddies, it throws it self against the Burning River, and goes forward till it meets it in the Acherusiad Marish: but mixes streams with no other Waters, and here revolved in a circle, dischargeth it self into Tartarus, just opposite to the Burning River; and the name of it is (as Poets say) Cocytus, The Purgatory of the antient Hea­thens described, with their Repen­tance in Hell, and three parts thereof, Contrition, Confessi­on, Satisfaction,; all which they saw to be necessary, by the light of Nature. i. e. Sorrow. These things being thus constitu­ted, when Ghosts have ar­rived whither the tutelar Demon of every one con­ducts them, first they are examined, tryed, and judg­ed, both they who have li­ved well, righteously, and justly, and they who have lived in vice, in­justice [Page 235] and impiety; they also who have lived in a middle way, going on to Acheron, and mounting into Waggons prepared for them, are therein carried to the Marish: where they both remain, and suffer punish­ments appointed for the expiation and ex­purgation of their sins. After they are thus expiated, they are absolved and quitted: and every one receives rewards for their good deeds, according to their merits. But if for the greatness of their Crimes, they be found incurable, having committed either many or great Sacriledges, or unjust and unlawful Homicides, or such execrable Wickednesses; a just lott casteth them into Tartarus, from whence they never get out. Whereas they who stand convicted of, and obnoxious to sins great indeed, but not in­expiable; as they who have, in heat of an­ger committed any violence against Father or Mother, and truly repented of it all their life after; or who have been Homicides through immoderate passion: upon these is imposed a necessity of falling into Hell. But when they have been there a year in Torments, the Waves cast them forth: Ho­micides, by Cocytus; Killers of Father or Mo­ther, by the Burning River. And when they come to the Acherusiad Marish, then with a [Page 236] loud voice they by name call, some those whom they have killed, others, those whom they have wronged, and begg and beseech them to be satisfied with their unfeigned penitence, and grievous sufferings, and to give them leave to depart out of that Marish. If they prevail, they retire thence, and are freed from those miseries: if not, they are carried back again into Tartarus, and so re­turned to the other rivers, not ceasing to suffer their renewed torments, untill they have obtained pardon from those to whom they have been injurious; for this punish­ment is appointed for them by the decree of the Judges. Now they who have been rightly purged by Philosophy, live ever af­ter without bodies, and come into other habitations fair and delightful; which to describe, is too difficult for my understan­ding, and too long for the short remainder of my life.

Commodious ad­monitions, conclu­ding the descripti­on of Hell; that we are not obliged to give credit to those Poetic fictions; and yet it is useful to reflect upon them, that we may be incited to aim at felicity after death, and to follow the only path that leads to it, viz. Wisdom and Virtue.But as for the concern­ment and importance of what we have here rela­ted, Simmias; we ought to labour with all possible stu­dy [Page 237] and care, that we may follow the con­duct of Virtue and Wisdom, in this life. For the reward is great, and the hope good. That the descriptions I have recounted to you of the places and conditions of Souls after death, are true; becomes not a wise man to affirm. But that there are some such, or the like, as for what concerns the state and condition of our Souls, and the places whither they are to go for habitati­on; seeing it is evident that our Souls are immortal, this also seems both consentane­ous, and worthy the danger, to believe they are such. For the danger is honorable and glorious; and we are obliged to inculcate, and as it were inchant these things into our minds; wherefore I have been the more prolix in commemorating that Fable. But yet, as to what concerns a mans own Soul, he ought to be with full confidence per­swaded of these things, who while he hath lived, hath repudiated corporeal pleasures, and outward Ornaments, as alien and un­necessary, and so hath resolved to addict himself to any thing rather than to lusts of the body: and hath made it the grand bu­siness of his life, to furnish his mind with learning, and to render it polite and brave, not with strange, but its own proper orna­ments; [Page 238] namely with Temperance, Justice, Fortitude, Liberty, Truth. Thus armed, let him expect the time, when he is to take his Journey ad inferos, to the Mansions of Souls departed, and let him so prepare and address himself, as to set forward redily and chearfully, whensoever Fate shall call him. And for your parts, Simmias and Cebes, and the rest that are here, ye shall all go this Journey, each in his appointed time: Fate (as the Tragedian saith) calls me now. But perhaps it is time for me to go and wash my self; for I think it more decent to be wash­ed, before I drink the poyson, that I may give the Women no trouble in washing my Body, after death.

Be it so then, saith Crito to him.An Historical Nar­ration of the man­ner of Socrates his death, which was perfectly agreeable to his Life and Do­ctrine. But do you, So­orates, give to those here, or to me, any command, ei­ther concerning your Chil­dren, or about any other matter, wherein we may chiefly gatifie you? No truly, saith he, Crito, I leave no new command with you, besides what I have alwaies told you, namely, that if ye take due care of your selves, you will perform your duty to me, and to mine, and to your selves also, whatever ye do, though [Page 239] now ye make no promises, nor enter into new engagements: but if ye neglect your selves, and will not order your life accor­ding to the prints as it were, of what I now remonstrate to you, & what I have hereto­fore enjoyned ye; though ye should even with vehement asseveration promise to do many, and great things, for my sake, ye will do (I am sure) nothing more. This, saith Crito, we will with courage and alacrity of mind endevour to perform. But in what manner shall we Bury you? Even how ye please, saith he; at least if ye can catch me, and I not fly out of your reach. And when he had sweetly smiled, and turned his eyes upon us; my Friends, saith he, I cannot perswade Crito here, that I am that Socrates who just now disputed, and pursued all parts of the discourse in order: but he thinks me to be the same whom after a few hours ye shall behold dead; and asketh me how I desire to be Buried: not remembring, that a good while since, I made a long dis­course to this very purpose, that after I have drank the poyson, I shall be no longer with you, but go away to the Felicities of the Blessed. This seems to have been spoken by me in vain, while yet I endevoured to consolate both you and my self. Do ye [Page 240] therefore undertake for me to Crito, in an obligation quite contrary to what he en­tred into on my behalf, before my Judges. He was surety for me, that I should remain: but be ye my sureties to him, that I shall not remain after I am dead, but fly away; to the end that Crito may more easily bear my de­parture, and seeing my Body to be burn'd or committed to the ground, he may not be troubled or grieved for me, as if I had suf­fered any great calamity; nor say at my Funeral, that Socrates is exposed to sight, or carried forth, or put into the Grave. But be assured of this, my Crito, that to speak of these [important] matters without due cir­cumspection, is not only a great offence, but brings detriment also to mens Minds. It be­comes us rather to be of good courage and resolution: and I will command that my Body be buried, and buried so as shall be grateful to you, and you shall judge to be most consentaneous to the Laws.

Other Circumstan­ces conducing to the saith of the Histo­ry.Having said this, he arose and went into an inner room to wash himself: and Crito following him; en­joyn'd us to stay and expect his return. We therefore expected, discoursing among our selves of the things that had been comme­morated [Page 241] by him, and conferring our judg­ments concerning them. And we frequent­ly spake of the calamity that seemed to im­pend on us by his death: concluding, it would certainly come to pass, that as Sonns deprived of their Father, so should we dis­consolately spend the remainder of our life. After he had been washed, and his Children were brought to him (for he had two Sonns very young, and a third, almost a Youth) and hisThat Socrates had indeed Two Wives, is plainly de­livered by Diogen. Laertius, who saith, the first was Xan­tippe, upon whom he begat Lampro­cles; the other Myrto, the Daugh­ter of Aristides the just, who brought him Sophroniscus and Meneximus. Wives also were come; he spake to them before Crito, and gave them his last commands: so he gave order to his Wives and Children to retire. Then he came back to us. By this time, the day had declined almost to the set­ting of the Sun; for he had staid long in the room where he washed himself. Which done, he returned, and sate to repose himself, not speaking much after that. Then came the Minister of the Eleven, the Execu­tioner; and addressing himself to him, I do not believe, Socrates, said he, that I shall re­prehend that in you, which I am wont to re­prehend in others; that they are angry [Page 242] with me, and curse me, when by command of the Magistrates (whom I am by my Office obliged to obey) I come and give notice to them, that they must now drink the poyson; but I know you to be, at all times, and chief­ly at this, a man both generous, and most mild and civil, the best of all men that ever came into this place: so that I may be assured you will not be displeased with me, but (you know the Authors) with them rather. Now therefore (for you know what Message I come to bring) Farewell, and endevour to suffer as patiently and calmly as you can, what cannot be avoided: Then breaking forth into tears, he departed. And Socrates converting his eyes upon him, and Farewel thou too, saith he: we will perform all things. Then turning to us again, How civil this man is, saith he! all this time of my mpri­sonment, he came to me willingly, and some­times talked with me respectfully, and hath been the best of all that belong to the Pri­son; and now how generously doth he weep for me! But Crito, let us spare him; and let some other bring hither the deadly Draught, if it be already bruised: if not, let him bruise it. Then Crito, I think, saith he, the Sun shines upon the tops of the Moun­tains, & is not yet quite gone down; * and [Page 243] I have seen some delay the drinking of the poyson much longer: nay more,By the Athenian Law, no man was to be put to death, un­til after Sun-set; lest the Sun, for which they had a singular veneration, might be displeased at the sight. after notice had been gi­ven them that they ought to dispatch, they have Sup­ped, and drank largely too, and talked a good while with their Friends: be not then so so hasty; you have yet time enough. Those men of whom you speak, Crito, saith he, did well; for they thought, they gained so much more of life; but I will not follow their ex­ample: for I conceive, I shall gain nothing by deferring my draught till it be later in the night; unless it be to expose my self to be derided, for being desirous, out of too great love of life, to prolong the short re­mander of it. But well; get the Poyson prepared quickiy, and do nothing else till that be dispatch'd. Crito hearing this, beck­ned to a Boy that was present; and the Boy going forth, and imploying himself a while in bruising the Poyson, returned with him who was to give it, and who brought it rea­dy bruised in a cup: Upon whom Socrates casting his eye, be it so, good man, said he; tell me, (for thou art well skill'd in these matters) what is to be done? Nothing, saith [Page 234] he, but after you have drank, to walk, until a heaviness comes upon your leggs and thighs; and then to sit: and this you shall do. And with that he held forth the Cup to Socrates, Socrates, with ad­mirable constancy, receives and drinks off the Poyson. Which appears to have been the Juice of Hemlock, both from the auctority of Diog. Laertius in vita Socrat. where he expresly names it [...], i. e. Cicura; and from the man­ner of its operati­on, whereof consult Dioscorides; As also from that of Seneca, Epist. 13. Cicuta magnum Socratem fecit. which he rea­dily receiving, and being perfectly sedate, O Eche­crates, without trembling, without change either in the color, or in the aire of his face, but with the same aspect, and countenance in­tent and stern, (as was usu­al to him) looking upon the man: what saist thou, saith he? may not a man offer some of this Liquor in Sacrifice? We have brui­sed but so much, Socrates, saith he, as we thought would be sufficient. I understand you, saith he: but yet it is both lawful, and our duty to pray to the Gods, that our transmigra­tion from hence to them, may be happy and fortunate. Having spoke those words, and remaining silent [for a minute or two] he easily and expeditely drank all that was in the Cup. Then many of us endevo­red what we could, to contain our tears: but [Page 235] when we beheld him drinking the Poyson, and immediatly after; no man was able lon-her to refrain from weeping: and while I put force upon my self to suppress my tears, they flowed down my cheeks drop after drop. So covering my face, I wept in se­cret: deploring not his, but my own hard fortune, in the loss of so great a Friend, and so neer a Kins-man. But Crito no longer a­ble to contend with his grief, and to for­bid his tears, rose up before me. And Apollo­dorus first breaking forth into showres of tears, and then into cries, howlings, and la­mentations, left no man from whom he ex­torted not tears in abundance; Socrates himself only excepted: Who said, what do ye, my Friends? truly I sent away the Wo­men for no other reason, but lest they should in this kind offend. For I have heard, that we ought to die with good mens and gratulation: But recompose your selves, and resume your courage and resolution. Hearing this, we blush'd with shame, and suppressed our tears. But when he had walked awhile, and told us that his thighs were grown heavy and stupid; he lay down upon his back: for so he who had given him the poyson, had directed him to do. Who a little time after, returns, and [Page 246] feeling him, looked upon his leggs and feet: then pinching his foot vehemently, he asked him, if he felt it? and when he said no, he again pinched his leggs; and turning to us, told us, that now Socrates was stiff with cold: and touching him, said he would die so soon as the Poyson came up to his heart; for the parts about his heart were already grown stiff. Then Socrates, putting aside the Garment wherewith he was covered; we ow, saith he, a Cock toIntimating, that death was most grateful to him; for which, and for his deliverance now granted to him, he would have a Sacri­fice offered to Aes­culapius. See Eras­mus, Chiliad. 3. cent. 3. pag. 1. Aesculapius: but do ye pay him, and neglect not to do it. And these were his last words. It shall be done, saith Crito: but see if you have any other Command for us To whom he gave no answer: but soon after fainting, he moved himself often [as if suffering Convulsions.] Then the Servant uncovered him: and his eyes stood wide open; which Crito perceiving, he closed both his mouth and his eyes.A most august testimony given by Plato, of his Master Socrates, to vindi­cate both his person and Doctrine from the prejudice of an ignominious death. This, Echecrates, was the end of our Friend and Fa­miliar, a man as we in truth affirm, of all whom we have by use and ex­perience [Page 247] known, the Wisest, and most Just.

Quid dicam de Socrate? cujus morti illa­chrimari soleo, Platonem legens. Cicero de natura Deor. lib. 3.

Quidni ego narrem, ultima illa nocte Cato­nem Platonis librum legentem, posito ad caput gladio? Duo haec in rebus extremis inst umen­ta prospexerat, alterum ut vellet mori, alterum ut posset, &c. Seneca Epist. 24.

Sic longa virtute fuit mens sancta Catonis
Purgata; at (que) illi vitae immortalis honorem
Jam contemplanti, divini fata Platonis
Phaedonem tradunt. Cum laetus talia fatur.
Salve sancte liber, superis demisse Catoni:
Dirige tu cursum, vitae (que) extrema meantis
Instrue: non alium moriturus quaero magi­strum;
Nec restare alias voluerunt Numina curas, &c.
Tho. Maius, in Supplemento Lucani, lib. 4.

Quid Ambraciotes ille (Cleombrotus vi­delicet) qui cum Platonis illum Phaedonem perlegasset, praecipitem se dedit, nullam aliam ob causam, nisi quod Platoni credidit? Lactantius.

Certain General AXIOMS Collected out of the Precedent Dia­logue concerning the Soul.

1. Axioms Moral.

1. PAin and Pleasure are of Kin, and so linked together, that they close­ly succeed each other by turns.

2. No man ought, upon what ac­count soever, to desert the station wherein God hath placed him: but to persist in the duties thereof, contemning all opposition.

3. Self-murder is a great Crime.13

4. A Wise man ought not only not to fear Death, but also to desire it; with submission to to the Divine Will.

5. Philosophy is the perpetual meditation [Page 249] of Death; that is, to recal and divorce the Soul from commerce with the Senses, and alie­nate it from Corporeal lusts and pleasures. Which is an anticipatton of Death, that is de­fined to be, a solution and separation of the Soul from the Body.

6. The Virtues of Politicians are not true Virtues, but only faint resemblances of the true.

7. Philosophy is the way to true Felicity: and the two grand Duties of it are (1) To contemplate the perfections of God, and (2) to alienate the Soul from the allurements of the Senses, and from indulgence to the Body.

8. Hope of future Felicity, is a very great Reward; that is, the best way of passing through both the Temptations and Adversities of this Life, with satisfaction of Mind.

9. Decent Burial, such as is ordained and prescribed by good Laws of the Country, ought not to be neglected by a Wise man: nor Fu­neral Pomp, affected.*

II. Axioms Natural.

1. COntraries are produced out of Contra­ries: but cannot possibly subsist the same in one subject, at the same time.

2. To learn, is to remember what the Soul knew, before it came into the Body: or there are naturally and congenially in the Soul, the seeds of all Sciences; which are only culti­vated and matured by method of Discipline, not implanted or ingraffed at first, as Aristo­tle taught.

III. Axioms Theological.

1. GOd takes care of Men, for that they are his own Possession.

2. God, according to Plato's definition here, is not only the Cause of his own Being, but gives both Being and Well-being to all things else.

3. The Soul of Man is the Off-spring of God, in a peculiar manner participant of the Divine Nature, incompound, without figure or shape, Incorruptible, immortal, as God.

4. The Soul in this Life, doth indeed use the service of the Body: yet is not composed or­ganically of the Senses, and other Faculties [Page 251] thereof; but simple, and existeth apart by it self, after separation by Death▪ whereby the Bo­dy, being compound, is dissolved; but the Soul goes away untouched and void of all Cor­ruption, into another Life, and there lasteth Eternally.

5. Of our Souls departed, there is a Two­fold state: some are happy, others unhappy.

6. Seeing that in this Life things are car­ried on intemperately, and in confusion; there must be in the next Life [ [...]] a cer­tain and just Judgement of God the Supreme and Ʋniversal Judge, whereby Good men may be distinguished from Wicked: this being an Axiom evident by the very Light of Nature, that God will reward every man according to his works in this life. 15

7. Positively and with confidence to des­cribe the places whither the Souls of the Dead go, and to define what are the Rewards and Punishments they there receive; is the part of a man extremely ignorant and superstitious: though it be most certain, there are Rewards and Punishments appointed, and absolutely ne­cessary [Page 252] for every man here to have his cogitati­ons seriously exercised in the contemplation of them.

8. True it is also, that the Souls of Good men, by Death delivered from the chains of the Body and its Senses, go immediatly to a place, invisible indeed by Human eyes, but of complete felicity, where they are conjoyn'd to God for ever: while on the contrary, the Souls of Wicked men suffer the punishments justly due to their crimes, in places convenient.

9. Ʋnreasonable it is, and unworthy a Phi­losopher, to pretermit the Principal and Prima­ry Cause, God, who is in truth not only the most Potent Cause, but Cause of all secondary Causes: to acquiesce in Second Causes, which really are no more but concurrent and instru­mental: and in second causes themselves, to omit the Proxime, while he rambles in search of remote, namely Constellations and Etherial influences, and such like Chimera's; as do those injudicious Professors of Judicial Astrology, and as did Anaxagoras, who held the great Mind of the Ʋniverse to be utterly void of un­derstanding and judgment; as Plato af­firms.

[Page 253] 10. The use of this most excellent Doctrine of the Immortality of the Soul, is to induce us to put our selves into the way of Virtue, as that which alone leads to Eternal Happiness: and to abhor Vice, as the direct Road to end­less Misery.

REFLEXIONS Upon the Athenian Laws mentioned in the Apoligie and Dialogue Precedent.

I.

THe Law which Socrates was accused to have Violated, and by which he was Condemned, yet extant un­der the first Title of Athenian Laws collected and explained by the Learned Monsieur Petit; seems to be this: Lex esto antiquissima, aeteruae (que) auctori­tatis in Attica, venerandos esse Deos, at (que) Heroas pa­trios & indigenas, publice secundum patrias sanctionos, privatim vero bonis verhis, frugum (que) primitiis, libis annuis; pro facultatum modulo.

By this Law was provided, ne quis novos habessit Deo., that no man should introduce new Gods; and the Transgressor was called into question before the Areopagites; whereof we have two eminent Ex­amples: one in St. Paul, who was hurried to the most severe Tribunal of the Areopagites, [...], quod pere­grinorum Deornm videretur annunciator. esse (Act. Apostol. cap. 17. vers. 18.) the other in Diodorus sur­named [Page 255] the Atheist, whose Indictment upon the same Statute, and convention before the same High Court of Justice, are recorded by Diogenes Laertins.

How came it then that Socrates, accused to have both denied the Divinity of the Old Gods of the Athenians, and endeavoured the insinuation of new; was not likewise tried by the Areopagites, but by other Judges, contrary to the tenor of this Law?

I answer with Monsieur Petit, (Commentar. in leges Atticas, pag. 3.) that perhaps the jurisdiction of the Arcopagites extended not to the Citizens of the Attick Republic, such as Socrates was; but was limited only to Strangers, such as was that ill-con­joyn'd pair, St. Paul and Diodorus.

II.

Socpates (you may remember) in his defense dis­solving that part of his Charge which concerned the Corruption of Youth, puts his Adversary Meli­tus in mind of a certain Law, whereby he was obli­ged, not to have brought an Impeachment against him to the Magistrates, but privately and in a friendly manner admonished him of that his error, supposing him to be really guilty thereof, not out of malice, but incogitancy. Now the Law it self where to he then had respect, was this; Peccantes invite in jus ne rapiuntor, sed privatim officii admonen­tor: and the reason of it is obvious, Talibus enim non poena opus est, sed institutione. Which is to be understood of Errors of no great moment, nor likely to bring detriment to the Common-wealth; such as those objected to Socrates, in that article of [Page 256] his Indictment, [...]; Socrates doth contrary to right and equity, in that he curiously enquires into things both subterranean and sublime, and by his sophistry turns falshood into truth, and teaches the same to others. For granting him to be guilty hereof, the fault was but light and venial: In his enim ne (que) sitae erant opes Greciae, ne (que) ex iis detrimenti quicquam Respublica capere potuit. Wherefore he had right to the favour and indul­gence of this Law, which his malicious Adversary had, by omitting the private admonition thereby required, violated.

III.

By the Religion of the Athenians, no Deity was held more potent and venerable than Apollo; none had so many sacred Buildings erected in their Ci­ty to his Worship, none so many solemn Sacrifices, and public Feasts instituted to his Honor, as he had: and among their Festivals, none were celebrated with more ceremonious Joy, than that of Inspection mentioned by Plato in Phaedon. Concerning which they had this peculiar Law; Deliornm festos dies, dum Delum itur, reditur, damnatorum suppliciis ne funestato. And the observance of this Law hath been noted both by Xenophon and Plato, as the rea­son why Socrates was detained in Prison thirty daies after his Condemnation, before he was put to death: the Athenians esteeming it piacular, to darken the publick rejoycing and solemnity of that Feast, by [Page 257] the death of any condemned, however notorious a Malefactor. So much was given to the Honor of Apollo Delius, whom not only the Grecians, but even Foreiners from the remotest parts of the Earth, while in Greece, were obliged to Worship with Oblations of their First Fruits; as appears from the History of Abaris, a Scythian, who is said to have lived in Greece about the 52 Olympiad, and wrote de Oraculis; and from the example of the Tyrians al­ledged by Euripides (in Phoenissis) whose Verses in the Chorus are worthy the serious remark of Anti­quaries, as giving much of light to what hath been obscurely delivered by Geographers and Historians, concerning the Colonies of the Tyrians in Africa, and the neighbouring Islands.

X.

From the same religious respect to Apollo it seems deducible, that within the Attic Territories, no condemned person suffered death until after the Sun was gone down: The Law it self, I confess, I have not yet found among all those with such vast labour collected by Monsieur Petit: but that they had such a Law, may be inferred from the Example of Socrates, and from what we read in Stobaeus (Sermone 1. who saith expresly enough; [...].

Mythological Reflections UPON Some Ancient Rites and Traditions concerning the Soul, mentioned by Plato in the precedent Dialogue.

1. Of Lustration.

AMong the ancient Grecians who travelled into Aegypt, on pur­pose to pry into and learn the Sacred Rites, and mysterious Ceremonies used by the Priests of that Superstitious Nation; Orpheus is ce­lebrated as the first, by Diodorus Siculus: who (Lib. 4. pag. 162.) saith thus of him; Orpheus in Aegyptum profectus, multa ibi di­dicit; ita ut tam Initiationibus & Theolo­gia, quam Poesi & Melodia esset Graecorum praestantissimus, &c. Now this Poet return­ing into Greece, brought with him [ [...]] [Page 259] most of the mysterious Rites used by the Egyptians, and the Orgies of Bacchus, and the Mythology of the Infernal Mansions: and recommen­ding them to his Countrymen, so far pre­vailed, that not long after, the very same were introduced as religious institutes a­mong them also, and by most with devote observance embraced.

Of all these thus transplanted Rites, none were held more grateful to their Deities, or of more sacred importance to the Votaries, than those of Initiation or admittance, more espececially the [ [...]] Lustration: which according to the computation of our Se­cond Selden, Sir John Marsham, from the au­thority of the Epicha Marmorea cited in his lately published Chronic. Canon (a work of profound Learning, and vast labour) was first instituted in Greece, when Pandion the Son of Cecrops ruled at Athens, about the year 257. of the Attic Aera.

This Lustration was double: either an Expiation from Humane blood spilt by slaughter, or a Preparation to Sacrifice, and other religious worship. Of Expiation, we have illustrious Examples in Apollo himself, who, as Pausanias relates (Lib. 10. pag. 620.) was thereby solemnly purged from the stain [Page 260] of blood by Carnanor: in Hercules, whom Diodorus Siculus reports to have been in like manner purified by Musaeus the Son of Orpheus, both at his initiation to the Eleusi­nian Sacrifices, and before his descent into Hell, thence to fetch the only Hel-hound Cerberus: and in Theseus, who, as Plutarch in his life hath left upon Record, required the same Expiation after the Homicides he had committed.

To the other kind of Lustration, among the Egyptians, and old Hebrews, were requi­red Washing, Fasting, and Abstinence from Women. Of Washing, let Moses be a wit­ness, who when he was to receive the De­calogue from Almighty God, sanctified the people, and commanded them to purge themselves by washing, and not to come near their Wives. Of Fasting, we are cer­tified from the very form of the solemn Respons and Profession to be made by the Votary; which Clemens Alexandrinus (Pro­treptic. pag. 13.) delivers to be this; [...], Jejunavi, ebibi cyce­onem. And as for Castimony; we have an authentic testimony from Arrianus (in Epi­ctetum lib. 3. cap. 21.) Hominem ad sacra rite accessurum, [ [...], post sacrificium, & post preces, [Page 261] & premissa castitate. The High Priest there­fore alwaies abstained from Matrimony: and those of Ceres Eleusina were anointed with the juice of Hemlock, to extinguish the heat of Concupiscence, as the old Scholiast upon the 5th. Satyr of Persius observes; and St. Hierome (contra Jovian. lib. 1.) remembers, that the Hierophantae among the Athenians were castrated by frequently sipping the same juice of Hemlock, losing their virility to obtain the Pontificate. A custom re­pugnant to the Mosaic Law, by which none but perfect men are capable of Priesthood: and to the Constitutions also of the Papacy, none having been (as they say) for many Ages together heretofore admitted to sit in St. Peters Chair, until he had undergone the Scrutiny of the Sella Perforata, now laid aside as unnecessary; whereof a witty Poet made this Tetrastich.

Non poterat quisquam reserantes aethera claves
Non exploratis sumere testiculis.
Cur igitur nostro mos hic jam tempore ces­sat?
Ante probat sese quilibet esse Marem.
In ancient times, none was Elected Pope,
Till he had pass'd the Sex-discerning grope.
Why is that scrutiny now us'd no more?
Now Priests approve their Man-hood long before.

But not further to digress, evident it is, that this inaugural Lustration with its Ceremonies, was common to all Religions; though perhaps not without some diffe­rence in the instruments, or outward means: it being a remark of the most learned Sir John Marsham, out of Procopius Gazaeus, (in Deuteronom.) that the purifications ordained in the Levitical Canons, differed from those of the Grecians in this, that these were per­formed usually with incantations, salt, bay leaves, barly, sea-water, and passing through fire; but those not.

Of these three parts of Lustration inau­gural, that accounted most efficacious, seems to have been Baptism or Washing: a thing of sacred esteem in all ages, and in all reli­gions; and among the Hebrews, strictly en­joyned by their wise Law-giver Moses. For we read (Exod. 19. v. 14.) that when the Israelites were to be initiated to the holy Disciplines by him instituted, he came down to the people, and sanctified them, and they [Page 263] washed their Garments: and by this ab­lution of their cloaths, Interpreters unani­mously understand the washing of their bo­dies also; according to the very letter of that precept given, (Levit. 15. ver. 11. [...], Lavabit vestimenta, & lavabit corpus aqua. Hence the Jews at this day deduce the origine of their Baptism; which that Nation hath ever since used with solemn Reverence, not only to the purgation of their external impuri­ties, or to the ablution of their sins; but also to the Regeneration of their Proselytes, when they give up their names to Judaism; of whom Jethro, the Father-in-law of Moses, is accounted the first. For, the three rites of initiation to be observed by a Gentil converted, at his admission into the Hebrew Church or Congregation, are well known to be Circumcision, Baptism, and Oblation. Concerning which our Prince of Antiqua­ries, Mr. Selden professedly discoursing, proves by many credible testimonies, that the Baptism of a Proselyte was celebrated in the presence of at least three Elders, so soon as the wound of Circumcision was healed, and in some river or fountain of living water, not in any vessel or artifici­al Bath, and never but once (on that occa­sion) [Page 264] either by the Proselyt himself, or by any of his posterity. Hereof the Effect was this, that a Proselyt thus inaugurated, was held perfectly regenerate, and a new man, as an infant born of a new Mother, and in­spired with a new Soul from Heaven: so that being utterly devested of all former cogna­tion, he was thenceforth reputed to have no kindred, no affinity, either in right of Es­pousal, or succession to the goods of the de­ceased, besides those who likewise had the character of Baptism. Upon which distin­guishing character it was, that Arrianus re­flected, when (in Epictetum, lib. 2. cap. 9. he said; quum quispiam induerit sibi affectum Baptizati & inter sectatores asciti, tunc & est revera, & appellatur Judaeus.

Now though the Hebrews may have deri­ded this Lustration by Baptism, from the in­stitute of Moses: yet it is not improbable, but he might first derive it from the exam­ple of the Egyptians, among whom he had so long lived, and in whose Learning as well sacred as civil, he had been from his child­hood educated. For, Apuleius Metamor­phos, Lib. 9.) being himself to be initiated to the Mysteries of Isis, expresly declares, that washing was in use among the Egypti­ans, in all their sacred Admissions: and de­scribing [Page 265] the ceremonies of his own admis­sion, Sacerdos (saith he) stipatum me re­ligiosa cohorte deducit ad proximas balneas; & prius sueto lavacro traditum praefarus Deum veniam, purissime circumrorans abluit, &c. Nor is it to be doubted, but this was then done to him, de more antiquo, according to the most ancient use of that Nation. Which while the Israelites remain'd in bondage among them, were much more likely to give Examples to them, than to receive any from them: it being seldom observed, that Lords imitate their Slaves. But this is confirmed by Tertullian (de Baptismo cap. 5.) where he writes,; Nationes sacris quibus­dam per lavacrum initiantur, Isidis alicujus, aut Mithrae [summi apud Persas numinis] ipsos etiam Deos suos lavationibus efferunt, &c. And whencesoever Moses borrowed this rite, we have it under the hand of Di­odorus Siculus (lib. 1.) that it was tradu­ced from Aegypt to Athens by King Erech­theus.

Nor is there just cause, why the tradu­ction of the like Baptism from the Jews to Christians, should be urged to the dispa­ragement of our Mystical Ablution at the font, when by the Church we are admitted to Christianism: as well because ours was [Page 266] changed from a mere rite to a blessed Sa­crament, by Christ himself, the Author of our faith, honored by his Example, and sanctified by his Benediction, and the Di­vinity of its constitution confirmed by the miraculous descent of the most Holy Spirit, in form of a Dove; as because, tho the Ex­ternal act of washing continue still the same, yet the Signification and Effiacy thereof is become infinitely more noble and excellent. Again, if it be true (as some very learned men have held) that those Articles of faith, and those religious Rites and Ceremonies, that are embraced by men of all Religions, and as it were seal'd by universal consent of Mankind, in all Ages, be less obnoxious to exceptions and dispute, than others that are proper and peculiar only to some one Reli­gion, Age, or Nation. then certainly by how much more antique and common to various Religions and Nations, this Rite of Expurgation by Water hath been; by so much more sacred ought it to be esteem'd. But this is only a Digression from my Theme, the Lustration of Ethnics, and more particularly of the Grecians.

Whereby those who were legitimately initiated, were esteem'd not only more ho­norable then others in this life, but more [Page 267] happy after death. For, their Wise men taught, and the Vulgar therefore believ'd, that by virtue of such Lustrations, the Souls of men were rendred more defecate and pure from the contagion of the body, re­fined as it were from the dross of sensual affections, and made more fit and expedite for contemplation of Divine things. Whence Sophocles the Tragedian, writing of Myste­ries, is said by Plutarch (de audiendis Poe­tis) to have composed these verses.

— [...]
[...],
[...]
[...].
—Felices nimis
Initia quotquot ista cum conspexerint,
Eunt ad Orcum. Nam (que) eos solos manet
Ibi vita: reliquos, miserias praeter, nihil.

and the Chorus in Aristophanes's Comedy na­med the Froggs, was made to sing these;

Solis nobis Sol
Et lux hilaris est,
Qui initiamur, &
Piam degimus vitam, &c.

[Page 268]This persuasion therefore being so univer­sally diffused among the Grecians, and ren­dred so plausible by Superstition; no won­der if Plato, in this Dialogue, put this as an Axiom into the mouth of Socrates: Who­ever not expiated, nor with due rites initiated, shall descend to the Mansions of Souls depar­ted; shall there lye rowling in mudd: but who shall after expurgation and initiation, come thither, shall for ever dwell with Gods. Nor this altogether without reason, because the Initiati were both obliged to newness of life, and reformation of man­ners; and instructed in Philosophy as well Natural as Moral.

II. The Antiquity and Traduction of the opinion of the Souls Immortality.

THough Strabo (Geograph. lib. 15. pag. 713:) speaking of the Indian Brach­mans, be so rash to say of them [ [...]] that they, as Plato, compose fables of the incorruptibility of the Soul, and of judgements in the infernal shades: [Page 269] yet to me it seems not to be doubted, but the belief of the Immortality of mans Ra­tional Soul, is fully as ancient as Mankind it self. For, methinks, the Excellency of its own Faculties and Operations, above all Material Agents, should be alone sufficient to afford to every contemplative man, cer­tain glimpses of both the divine Original, and Immortality thereof: and the desire of posthume glory, an affection congenial and natural (Arist. 2. de Anima, calls it [...], most natural) to all noble minds, together with a secret fear of future unhap­piness, common to all; to give pregnant hints of its sempiternal Existence after death.

And yet notwithstanding, such has been the cruelty of Time, in the destruction of Books and other Monuments; and so far hath Oblivion swallowed up the Tenents and Doctrines of the yonger World: that of this so reasonable and comfortable an opinion, we can find no prints remaining, but what the Grecian Sages observed among the Aegyptians, and from them transmitted down to posterity. From them alone therefore, we are to trace the tradition thereof.

[Page 270]Consentaneous it is, that the Eleusinian Mysteries and other sacred Rites so solemn­ly observed and celebrated by the ancient Aegyptians, more particularly that of Lu­stration just now explicated, were grounded upon a belief of, and had their chief re­spect unto a future life, and the different state of good and bad Souls therein. For, to what end could that religious Ablution and Expurgation serve, but (as they were persuaded) to rinse away the stains of guilt from the Soul, or (as Tertullian de Baptis­mo cap. 5. expresseth it) in regenerationem, & impunitatem perjuriorum suorum: if they were not possessed with a belief even to con­fidence, of the Eternal Duration of the Soul after death; and that in a condition of Felicity or Misery, according to its vir­tuous or vicious Affections and Actions in this life? Had they admitted the extinction thereof by death, vain certainly, and ab­surd had been all their care and sollicitude about the purification of it from the pollu­tions of Sin, and from the dreggs of sen­sual inclinations, before death. The same may be by like genuine consequence infer­red from their most magnificent Sepulchres, their exquisite Embalmings of the dead, and their Amenthes or subterraneous place [Page 271] into which they held the Souls of the De­funct to be received. But what need we range into their Mythologies in search af­ter evidence of their being strongly posses­sed with this opinion; when we have proofs from Authority unquestionable, that their Priests and other Learned men expresly taught it?

Hear then Herodotus (lib. 2. cap. 123.) saying, Aegyptij primi sunt, qui Animam hominis immortalem esse dicerent, [...]: ejus transmigrationem in alia animalia terrestria, marina, volueria, rur­sum (que) in corpus humanum, docuerunt: hunc cir­cuitum ab ea fieri intra 3000 annos, &c Upon which he elsewhere reflecting, hath this pertinent remark: Hinc tantum condi­endi cadaveris studium, tantae in struendis repositorijs impensae.

This Doctrin being brought from the Aegyptian Schools by Orpheus, and from him descended to Homer; he thence taught, that Eternal Souls are from Heaven con­veyed into human bodies, and that after death they return to the Gods; for a Sym­bol of this region of Corruption, feigning his Antrum Nympharum, wherein —

— [...], &c.
Janua duplex:
[Page 272]Haec Boream spectans homines de­mittit:
Odyss. 13. v. 109:
at illa
Respiciens Austrum divinior, in­via prorsus
Est homini, praebet (que) viam immor­talibus unis.

Of which Poetical fiction Porphyrius giving the Mythology, wrote an excellent Book, published by Holstenius, de Antro Homerico: wherein he tells us, that the Cave it self car­ries [ [...]] an image and symbol of the world: that the Naiades. or Nymphs, are Souls [ [...]] entered into bodies newly generated: that one Gate is for the admittance of Souls descending into bodies; the other for, not Gods, but Souls ascending from bodies to the Gods again. Wherefore he call'd it the road or way, not of the Gods, but [ [...]] of Souls, which are by their very Essence Immortal.

From this commonly embraced Existence of Souls departed, arose the [...] or Image-making of the Ancient Ethnics; whereby they attributed to Souls separated from their bodies, Effigies quasi Corporeas: whereunto Virgil seems learnedly to allude, where he makes Dido, as she was dying, say,

[Page 273]
Et nunc magna mei sub terras ibit imago: and Lucretius (lib. 1.) in these verses;
—Esse Acherusia templa;
Quo ne (que) permanent Animae, ne (que) corpora nostra;
Sed quaedam Simulacra, modis pallentia miris.

From the same fountain, and at the same time also, were derived into Grece the Comments concerning the Mansions of Souls delivered from their bodies, and the Re­wards and Punishments to come. For Dio­dorus Siculus (lib. 1. pag. 61.) hath left this record thereof: Dicunt Orpheum, dum impiorum palmas apud inferos, & piorum prata, & pervulgatas spectrorum fictiones introduxit, funebres Aegyptiorum ritus imi­tatum fuisse: adding, that from the old in­stitute of the Aegyptians, Mercury was made [ [...]] the Conductor of Souls ad inferos. Wherein Homer long after carry­ing on the tradition of Orpheus, promotes the credit of the fiction, by inserting it in­to his immortal Poem (in initio Odyss. ῶ.)

[...]
[...], &c.
The Souls of Hero's, Mercury the God
Calls forth [and guides t' Elysium] with his rod.

[Page 274]But leaving the most ancient Grecian Poets, who yet were then the only Theo­logues, let us persue this tradition of the Souls Immortality, among their most emi­nent Philosophers, as men less prone to Credulity, and therefore more worthy of credit.

Of these, the eldest we can find, is Thales Milesius, who (as Plutarch. de pla­citis lib. 4. cap. 2. attesteth) first defined the Soul to be [ [...]] a nature perpetually moving, and self-mo­ving. Which argument Cicero indeed af­terward borrowing from Plato's Phaedrus, most judiciously explained, in the first book of his Tusculan Questions: but fathers the opinion it self upon Pherecydes Syrius, in these words. Credo equidem etiam alios, sed (quod literis exstet) Pherecydes Syrus (Syrius rather, from Syros, an Island of the Aegean Sea, the place of his birth) primum dixit, Animos hominum esse sempi­ternos: hanc opinionem discipulns ejus Pytha­goras maxime confirmavit.

But (by Cicero's favour) Pythagoras, who seems to have been yonger then Homer by almost 400 years, (for he was among the Aegyptians carried away captive by Camby­ses, as appears from that place in Apuleius [Page 275] Florid. lib. 2. Pythagoram aiunt, inter captivos Cambysae Regis, doctores habuisse Persarum Magos; ac praecipue Zoroastrem, omnis divini arcani antistitem) drew this Doctrin, not out of the streams of either Orpheus, or Homer, or Phercydes, but from the very spring-head of Aegypt. And he taught, that the Soul was [ [...]] a self-moving Number, and [ [...]] in­capable of destruction, returning after its departure from the body, to its original the Universal Soul of the world: as we find in the records of Plutarch, de placit. lib. 4. cap. 2.

Next comes Heraclitus the Ephesian, whom Porphyrius (de Antro pag. 257.) makes the Author of that memorable sentence con­cerning our Souls [ [...]] that this our life is the Souls death, and our death the Souls life; that the Soul descended from Heaven to animate the body, suffers Exile in this lowest and darksom region, and remains as it were dead, during its imprisonment in flesh.

Then Empedocles Agrigentinus, a Pytha­gorean; who (as Plutarch de Exilio com­memorates) speaking likewise of the des­cent of his Soul, as a Banishment from its [Page 276] Celestial home; Ego jamdudum (saith he) eo exul a Deo, & vagus: and of the Eternal Society of the just, that they should be after death, immortalium aliorum contubernales, & convivae, expertes humanarum miseriarum, incorruptibiles, immortales. Whence it may be with good probability conjectured, that Pindar took the main argument of his 2d. Olympic ode; wherein he sings, that the Just enjoy eternal light, and life exempt from cares and labour among the Gods: where­upon Plutarch excellently descanteth, de facie in luna.

And at length our Plato, whom our best Antiquaries and Chronologists agree to have flourished about the 100 Olympiad, in the reign of Artaxerxes Mnemon over the Persians. This Father of the Academics, though he would have Homer ejected out of his Common-wealth, as a Poet; yet both embraced his doctrin of the immortal Exi­stence of the Soul, and added no little au­thority to his description of the Infernal Mansions; especialy in this Dialogue, where he introduceth Socrates discoursing most profoundly of the Immortality of the Soul. Whereupon Cicero perhaps reflecting (in lib. 1. Tusculan.) saith; Platonem ferunt, ut Pythagoraeos cognosceret, in Italiam venisse; [Page 277] & in ea cum alios multos, tum Architam Ti­maeum (que) cognovisse, & didicisse Pythagorae om­nia; primum (que) de Animorum aeternitate, non solum sensisse idem quod Pythagoras, sed rati­onem etiam attulisse.

From Plato down to his Disciples and Successors the Academics, we need not fur­ther deduce this constant Doctrin: it being of it self sufficiently manifest to all men not inconversant in the writings of the ancient Philosophers devolved to our late hands, that whatsoever either the Author of that laudable Dialogue entitled Axiochus (vul­garly adscribed to Plato, and inserted into his works) or Cicero in his noble Dialogue de Senectute, & Contemnenda morte; or Se­neca in his Epistles, and elsewhere; or in­deed St. Augustin and Tertullian, or any other hath written of this Subject, either ex professo, or only in transitu; hath been borrowed from him. And yet notwith­standing, it may not be thought imperti­nent, nor vulgar, if we observe; that among the Jews, the Pharises (whose original our universally learned Sir John Marsham hath most plainly traced out, in pag. 151. of his Chronic. Canon) imposing only new terms upon the Philosophy of the Academics, con­sented to the common opinion of the Greeks con­cerning [Page 278] the Soul; as Josephus himself at­testeth (Belli Judaici lib. 2. cap. 7.) who there delivers the belief of the Essens, con­cerning the happy state of Good Souls se­parated from their bodies, in the very words of Homer. Nor is it obscure, that the Jews themselves believed the [...], or Transmigration of Souls from one human body into another: when some thought our blessed Saviour Jesus Christ to be St. John the Baptist, some Elias, others Jeremias, or one of the Prophets (Math. 16: v. 14.)

DIGRESSION. How far the Souls Immortality may be proved by human Reason.

BUT is it not of more importance to know, how strong and reasonable this Opinion of the perpetual duration of separate Souls appears to be, than to investigate the age and tradition of it? Certainly yes, and should my Reader here require my estimate of the force and vali­dity of the various Arguments or pretended De­monstrations brought by Plato in the precedent Dialogue, to evidence the verity thereof: I might justly enough make use of the licence thereby given me, to examine what I designed only to translate. But because it may be thought an indecency, if not ingratitude in a mere In­terpreter, to censure the power and extent of the reasonings used, and the conclusions thence drawn by his Author, and because this lauda­ble curiosity of the Reader (whom I presume to be possessed with such) may perhaps be more fully gratified, by a frank communication [Page 280] of my sentiments concerning that more general Enquiry, viz. How far the Immortality of the Soul may be proved by simple reason, or the sole light of Nature, without the illumination of sacred Writ, or revelation Divine: I shall therefore with the freedom belonging to a Philosopher, and due submission to more elevated Wits, adventure to acquaint him briefly with those my thoughts; choosing rather to expose them to his severest scrutiny, than by animadversions upon the arguments of Plato in particular, to shew the least umbrage or irreverence towards his memory.

I confess then, that tho I have read, and with due attention of mind considered the ut­most rigor of many Discourses professedly com­posed for, and speciously promising a sufficient eviction of the sempiternal Existence of the Rational Soul after death, by reasons drawn only from her own excellent nature, faculties, affections, operations, &c. yet I could not per­ceive, that any one of them taken single, or all put together, had the force of a perfect Demon­stration; so that were not the Light of the Ho­ly Scriptures infinitely more clear and convin­cing, as to that among many other important truths concerning the Soul, I should still remain unassured of the endless Duration of my noblest part. For

First, as to the Origine of this excellent Be­ing; the Doctrines of Natural Philosophers con­cerning this, are no less various then their Sects; and all but darksom opinions, or precarious [Page 281] conjectures. Nay even those few among them, who held it to be of Divine Original, tho there­in they hit the very white of truth, appear notwithstanding to have shot wide, when they conceived it to have been Eternal ex parte ante, a particle of the Divine Essence it self, and pre-existent to its conjunction with the body. Whereas that sacred Oracle, the Word of God plainly teaches, that the Soul of the first man was created immediately by God himself, and united to the body then already perfectly formed and prepared to receive it.

Secondly, As to the grand Difficulty, the na­tural Exemption of it from the power of Death, when thereby divorced from the body; the Arguments brought from Physical Mediums for probation hereof, do indeed suffice to convince us of the Spirituality and Seperability of the Soul: but suffice not (in my judgement at least) to demonstrate the impossibility of its destruction, or that absolutely it shall survive the dissolution of the body for ever the same.

I grant, that some, and chiefly that most rigid of Physico-Mathematicians, Des Cartes (in me­ditat. Metaphysic. de Anima, & respon. ad object. secund.) have gone so far, as fairly to convince any man of competent understanding, that the Soul, tho in this life obliged to act for the most part, by the Organs of the Senses, doth yet discover its excellency, by actions proper and peculiar to her spiritual nature, wholly indepen­dent upon, and distinct from the Senses: and thence by genuine consequence inferred, that the [Page 282] same Soul, tho by a strict and intimate conjun­ction with the body, united into one Composi­tum therewith, is yet nevertheless a thing or substance distinct from the body. I grant also, that by this very Argument the Immortality of the Soul may be sufficiently proved against Epicureans and Atheists. For these men taking the Soul to be, not formally and truly a Sub­stance, but only a certain Modisication of body; thereupon concluded, that it must of necessity perish, or cease to be the same, when the fa­brique or frame of the body, from whence it resulted, is destroyed by Death. If therefore from some intellectual operations of this Soul, such to which matter or body, however mo­dified, or organized, cannot possibly reach; it be made appear (and Des Cartes seems to have done it) that she is a Substance distinct from, and independent upon the body: there will re­main no reason, much less an absolute necessi­ty, why the dissolution of the body should in­fer the destruction of the Soul, as they imagine; more especially if the latter be conceived to be (what most certainly it is) a simple and spiri­tual substance, as incapable of destruction, as them­selves hold matter to be.

But I dare not grant, that this Cartesian De­monstration holds good, as against Epicureans and Atheists, who exclude God from having any hand in the creation and conservation of the Soul; so likewise against those who acknow­ledge God to be the sole Creator and preserver of all things. For, admitting the Soul to be [Page 283] both a substance distinct from the body, and immediately created, and continualy conserved by God: yet can we not lawfully infer from thence, that it is not possible for such a Soul ever to cease to be. For what assurance can sim­ple reason give us, that God hath not ordained, that this Soul, as it had a beginning when it was created to be infused into the body, so at the time of its separation from the body, shall lose its being, and vanish into its primitive no­thing? That the duration thereof necessarily de­pends upon Gods conserving power and influ­ence, is undeniable: and it seems consentaneous, that as the Union or Association of the Soul to the Body was at first made, not by any Agents meerly Natural, but upon conditions depending solely upon Gods free and arbitrary institution▪ so (for ought we can learn from the weak light of Nature to the contrary) one of the Con­ditions may be, that at the dissolution of that Union, both Body and Soul should cease to be. Especially since to the Souls relapsing into its first nothing, no more is required, but Gods withdrawing his conserving influence, by which alone all his Creatures are supported, and their Being is preserved. Here then we find our selves left in the dark by human reason; so that were it not for the brighter beams of Re­velation Divine, how fair soever our hopes might be of Immortality, we should want a full assurance of it. To conclude therefore this Pa­rergon, with the concordant judgement, and in the most elegant words of that most excellent [Page 284] Philosopher and Christian, the noble Mr. Boyl; In Pag. 30. of his Book concerning the Excellency of Theology. all that meer Reason can demonstrate con­cering this Subject, may be reduced to these two things: One, ‘That the Rational Soul being an Incorporeal substance, there is no necessity that it should perish with the body; so that if God hath not otherwise appointed, the Soul may survive the body, and last for ever: The Other, That the Nature of the Soul, according to Des Cartes, consisting in its being a Substance that thinks; we may con­clude, that tho it be by death separated from the body, it will nevertheless retain the power of thinking.’ To more then this Des Cartes was both too circumspect, and too conscious of the dimness of human reason to pretend, tho some of his Sectators, mistaking the design and scope of that his discourse, have conceived it to ex­tend even to an eviction also of the Souls abso­lute Immortality. For (in artic. 7. respon. ad object. 2.) he makes this ingenuous profession. Cur de immortalitate animae nihil scripserim, jam dixi in Synopsi mearum meditationum; quod ejus ab omni corpore distinctionem satis probaverim, su­pra ostendi. Quod vero additis, ex distinctione animae a corpore non sequi ejus immortalitatem; quia nihilominus dici potest, illam a Deo talis na­turae factam esse, ut ejus Duratio simul cum dura­tione vitae corporeae finiatur; fateor a me refelli non posse. Ne (que) enim tantum mihi assumo, ut quic­quam de ijs quae a libera Dei voluntate dependent, [Page 285] humanae rationis vi determinare aggrediar. Docet quidem naturalis cognitio, mentem a corpore esse diversam, ipsam (que) esse substantiam, &c. Sed si de absoluta Dei potestate quaeratur, an forte decreverit ut animae humanae iisdem temporibus esse desiuant, quibus corpor a quae illis adjunxit, destruuntur; solius est Dei respondere. Cum (que) jam ipse nobis re­velaverit, id non futurum; nulla plane, vel minima est occasio dubitandi.

III. Of the Comments of the ancient Ethnics, con­cerning the infernal Mansions of Souls departed.

THo the description of Tartarus and Elysium here in the latter part of this grave Dialogue made by Plato, be by him­self declared to have been borrowed for the most part from the Fictions of others, chiefly Poets; and that he expresly af­firms, that to deliver any thing positive­ly concerning the future state of Souls, and the qualities of Rewards and Punish­ments in the next life, is the part of a rash, not a wise man: yet forasmuch as the design and utility of those fictions, is not more conspicuous, than the first in­vention of them is to men inconversant in the monuments of Antiquity, obscure; and because there are, even at this day, not a few who entertain and promote as gross, and in many things the like superstitious conceipts of Hell: I think it worth the expence of a few vacant minutes, to deduce them briefly from their original, as high at least as my little reading reacheth.

[Page 287]The first Natural Philosophy, whereof the envy of Time hath spared some little fragments to be handed down by tradi­tion to this our so distant age; seems to be that which supposed two Contrary Princi­ples of all things that had beginning. Of these, one was God the Maker, in the Grecian Theology named [...] (concer­ning the Etymology of which name, t'will be no lost labour, nor impertinent, to consult the most learned Vossius, in Ety­mologico Linguae Latinae, in verbo, Juvo) and the Author of Life: The other, Matter, call'd [...], which hath the power of Dis­solution or Death. To the First was as­cribed Light and Day; to the Latter, Dark­ness and [...], Non-apparence: for [...] signifieth privation of Light. Under the Empire of Zeus or Jove, was placed the upper part of the World: the inferior was assigned to the dominion of Pluto: the middle betwixt these two contrary Prin­ciples, was imagined to be agitated by per­petual reciprocations, or alternate changes; so that Life and Death, Light and Dark­ness, Good and Evil rule by turns. Congru­ous whereunto is that assertion of the Prince of Physicians, Hippocrates (lib. de Diaeta) ni­hil gigni, ne (que) prorsus interire, That as to [Page 288] Matter, nothing is either generated or destroyed: and that to be generated, is to grow out of Hade into light; men thinking that to perish, which from light decreased into Hade or darkness again. For, it hath been an universal Axiom of ancient Philosophers, nihil ex nihilo fieri, aut in nihilum redigi: and therefore they who allowed the World to have had a beginning, held the Matter of it to have been pre-existent from all Eternity.

Now this which the Grecians named Hades, the Aegyptians call'd Amenthes, which signifies a place giving and recei­ving, viz. Souls; as Plutarch (de Iside) interpreteth it. Which notion, together with the opinion of the Souls Immorta­lity, and future rewards and punishments, being by the Aegyptian Priests communi­cated to Orpheus: he from thence, after his return into Greece, feigned a Hell, in imitation of the Funeral Rites he had observed among them, as is expresly a­verred by Diodorus Siculus (lib. 1. pag. 71.) formerly quoted: who addeth, that the other Comments of the Grecians de inferis, were in most things conformable to the manner and place of Obsequies performed by the Aegyptians, even in his [Page 289] own time. For (saith he) the boat where­in dead bodies are usually carried to bu­rial, is call'd [...], and a half-penny is given for a fare to the Boatman, who in the tongue of that Nation is call'd Charon: not far from the Ferry, there stands (they say) a Temple of Hecate the Darksom; and the gates of Cocytus and Lethe, made fast with brasen barrs; and other gates of Verity, by which stands an image or statue of Justice, without a head, &c.

And Servius (in Virgil. lib. 6. ad hunc versum; sic demum lucos Stygios, regna invia vivis, aspicies) delivers, that Sene­ca in a certain book he wrote de ritu & sacris Aegyptiorum, reports, that about Sienes, an extreme part of Aegypt, is a certain place which they call Philas, that is, the Female Friends; because there Isis was appeased and attoned by the Aegyp­tians, after her displeasure conceived for that she had not found the limbs of her husband Osiris, whom his brother Typhon had slain. Which being afterward found, when she desired to bury them, she chose the safest place of a neer Marish, where­unto the access was extremely difficult, [Page 290] and embarrass'd; the Marish being full of Mudd and Papyr-flaggs. Beyond this is a short Island, inaccessible to men: whence it was call'd Abatos, and mentio­ned by Lucan; Hinc Abatos, quam nostra vocat veneranda vetustas. This Mere is named Styx, because it raiseth Sadness and Sorrow in all that pass over it: and hither on certain daies, come such who have been initiated to the sacred Rites; and that it had been written, that the neighbouring people carry over their dead to the other side of the Lake: but if any chance to perish in the difficult passage, and his body be not found; his Funeral Obsequies are to be deferred untill a hun­dred years be expired. Whence that dream, Centum errant annos, volitan (que) haec littora circum.

Farther, well known it is, even to yong Students of Homer, that his [...] is divided into Tartarus (described at the 13th. Iliad v. θ) and Elysium (described Odyss. ♌ v. 563.) and both according to the doctrin of the Aegyptians, who pla­ced both the Bridewell of the wicked and the Mulberry Gardens of the Just' [...], in a subterraneous place or region' [Page 291] But where to fix his [...], hath puzzled all his Commentators. Strabo (Geograph. lib. 3. pag. 150.) thereby un­derstands the remotest part of Spain, and contends for the placing his Elysium there. More recent Poets take the [ [...]] Islands of the Fortunate, for the seats of the blessed: whereof see He­sychius, ad verbum [...], where you shall read this also. ‘Some say, Elysium lyes in Aegypt, some in Lesbos, others in a place guarded with thunder and light­ning, and not to be approached by Mortals.’ So that a man would think, Eden to be turned into Elysium, nor doth it seem to be either more or less than what Diodorus just now related from the Aegyptians, that the gates of Cocytus and Lethe were secured by brasen barrs. But Plutarch removes this Paradise from the Hollows of the Earth, into the globe of the Moon (lib. de facie in Luna.) So various are the conjectures of men, so un­certain their imaginations, so easie their credulity; especialy when they are blin­ded by superstition. What pleasure o­ther [...] may find in reading these various Comments upon Fictions, I cannot divine: [Page 292] but this I will adventure to confess, that to me they appear as idle and extrava­gant, as the works of Didymus a Gram­marian did to Seneca, Who (in Epist. 88.) derides him for writing 4000 Volumes, wherein he chiefly enquires about the na­tive Country of Homer, the true Mother of Aeneas, whether Anacreon were more addicted to wine or women; whether Sappho were a common prostitute, and other the like ridiculous impertinences, which were to be forgotten, if you knew them. Wherefore leaving these dissenting Expositors, let us resume our clue, and follow the trace of the Fiction it self.

Though Homer constituted Rhadaman­thus and his brother Minos Judges in the infernal Arches (Odyss. 4. v. 567.) and fetch'd those names from Crete: yet the ground or example was derived from Aegypt, as appears from this relation of Diodorus Siculus (lib. 1. p. 58.) ‘Among the Aegyptians (saith he) when a dead body is to be interred, the Kindred of the deceased give notice of the day to the Judges, and to the friends and ac­quaintance of the defunct; and proclam that he is at that time to be wafted [Page 293] over the Lake. At the day prefix'd, more then 40 Judges assembled toge­ther, seat themselves in a Semicircle or Half-moon, on the brink of the Lake: and a Boat ready prepared for that use, is lanched, with a man therein to row it, whom they in the Aegyptian language call Charon. Then, before the body is put aboard, it is permitted to every man present, to bring in what accusations he thinks just, against the party deceased. If any prove, that he lived an evil life, the Judges immediately give sentence upon him according to the nature and quality of his transgressions: and the body is forbidden to be buried. But a false and malicious accuser is obnoxious to to great penalties. When no just im­peachment is brought in, the kindred laying aside the mourning and laments, praise the defunct, in their laudatory harangues, not mentioning the nobility of his blood and extraction (as the the Grecians use to do) because they hold, that all in Aegypt are equaly no­noble; but his good Education in youth, and the piety, justice, continency, and other virtues of his maturer age, all [Page 294] which they particularly recount and celebrate.’ This funeral Oration en­ded, they address their Oraisons to the infernal Deities, beseeching them to re­ceive him into the Society of the Pious: with no small devotion making this pray­er, the form whereof hath been preser­ved and transmitted down to us by Por­phyrius (de Abstinentia lib. 4. Sect. 10.)

‘O Lord Sun, and all ye Gods who give life to men, receive me, and deliver me a companion to the immortal Gods. For while I lived here in this age, I piously worshipped the Gods whom my Parents taught me to worship: and ho­nour'd those who begat me: nor have I killed any man: nor defrauded any that trusted me: nor committed any inexpiable evil. But if at any time of my life, I have offended by eating or dtinking any thing forbidden; I offen­ded not by my self, but by those bowells of mine there (pointing to a little Coffin wherein the stomach and gutts are reposed apart.’)

Which said, the speaker throws the lit­tle Coffin into the water, as containing [Page 295] the offending parts; and the whole assem­bly with loud and ingeminated applauses recommending the defunct (that is, him who had performed all the dueties of life) as one that shall enjoy the ever­lasting conversation of pious Souls apud inferos; the body is put into the Boat, and ferried over the Lake to be inhumed.

Here reflecting upon this Aegyptian praier, or Apology rather, made in the name of the dead, we may en passant ob­serve, both a touch of Pharisaical arro­gancy and self-justification; and precepts exactly concordant with those given, first (as the tradition of the Talmudical Rab­bines teacheth) to the Sons of Noah, and afterward by Moses to the Hebrews, in the second Table of the Decalogue, and from them descended down to us. So that that saying of Salomon, that no­thing is new under the Sun, was true many hundred of years before his daies, yea and before Moses's too. But I have made a digression of a praier; and must return into the little remainder of my way.

From these Aegyptian obsequies it was (as the same Diodorus in the same place [Page 296] observes) that Orpheus having, while he sojourned among their Priests, curiously remarked them, first invented his fiction of Hell; in some things keeping close to the original he copied, and adding others from the mint of his own Poetical phan­cy: and so divulging the same to his admirers in Greece, transmitted it to po­sterity, as matter of Faith.

From their belief, that Good Souls were after death advanced to the honour and felicity of conversing with the Gods, first arose the [...] of the Ancients: and first of all Hercules was, for his He­roic virtues, accordingly Deified. Whence Homer describing the transcendent happi­ness of his condition, saith, apud Deos immortales oblectatur in convivijs, & habet pulchris talis Hebem: by assigning him Hebe or Youth for a Wife, intimating his Immortality.

And from the Aegyptian custom of in­terdicting sepulture to the bodies of men convicted of great crimes, came the opi­nion of the Grecians, that the Souls of men whose bodies want interrment, are repulsed by Charon. Whence in Homer, the Ghost of Elpinor appearing to Ʋlisses, [Page 297] complains of his repulse, because his body yet remained unburied. So doth that of Patroclus to Achilles, begging the human office of inhumation: sepeli me quam citis­sime; ut intrem portas Plutonis.

To these remarkable instances of Simi­litude betwixt the old Aegyptian rites of burial, and the Grecian fictions de inferis; I might, were not my pen already blunted with the drudgery of transcription, add many others collected by Diodorus Siculus. But from what I have alleaged, it seems clearly evident, that the original of the Grecian traditions and doctrin concerning Hell, was fetch'd from Aegypt: and that the grand pipe through which they were transmitted and diffused, was the pen of Ho­mer, who flourished about the year 676 of the Attic Aera.

Nor is it less manifest, that some Philoso­phers also, and those too of great name and autority in their times, laboured by their Writings to propagate the belief of the same Phantastical comments in the minds of the superstitious vulgar. For, Diogenes La­ertius, in the lives of Democritus and his Scholar Protagoras, of Antisthenes and He­raclides Ponticus, expresly delivers, that [Page 298] each of them wrote whole Volumes [ [...]] of the regiment and judicial proceedings apud inferos: the loss where­of, the Common-wealth of Letters hath no great reason to lament. And as for Plato, we have already perused his ample Chorography and description of the same infernal regions, in this Dialogue of Phoe­do; wherein whoever is not sat [...]sfied, let him at his leisure have recourse to the sixth book of Virgil's Aeneids; where he shall find even the Topography of Hell and Elysium most accurately painted, according to the patterns of Homer and Plato. More particularly, at verse 327. he shall find Charon refusing to transport the Souls of bodies unburied: at verse 426. he shall behold the Limbus or apart­ment or Infants: at verse 430. the receptacle of men condemned unjustly: at verse 434. the Newgate of Self-murderers: at verse 440. the melancholy walks of unfortunate Lovers: at verse 540. the Campus Martius of Warri­ours: at verse 548. the burning river and other torments of the impious: at verse 638. the Paradise of Mahomet, at verse 738. a most cruel Purgatory, wherein pol­luted Souls being cleansed and whitened, by [Page 299] aire, fire and water, are after a long tract of time, removed into Elysium, there with impatience to expect [ [...]] Rege­neration. All which being compared with the descriptions of the same places, extant in Homer and Plato: he will at length be convinced, that Virgil therein imitated them most exactly; and that Purgatory is no such modern invention as the unlearned take it to be. The Sandy foundation whereof ly­ing so exposed to all eyes not blinded with the mist of Bigotism: I cannot but applaud the Wisdom of our Divines assembled in the Convocation house by K. Henry VIII. in the year 1536. Who among some Eccle­siastical Constitutions then made, delivered their judgement concerning Purgatory, in these memorable words.

‘Forasmuch as according to due order of Charity, and the book of Macchabees, and divers ancient Writers, it is a very good and charitable deed to pray for Souls departed: and forasmuch as such uses have continued in the Church even from the beginning, that all Bishops and Preachers should instruct and teach the people not to be grieved with the con­tinuance of the same: But forasmuch as [Page 300] the place where those departed Souls be, the name thereof, and the kind of pains there also, be to us uncertain by Scripture, that therefore this and all other such things were to be remitted to God Almighty, un­to whose mercy it is meet and convenient to commend them, trusting that God ac­cepteth our praiers for them; referring the rest wholly to God, to whom is known their state and condition. And therefore that it was necessary that such abuses should be clearly put away, which under the name of Purgatory have been advanced, &c.’ As is recited by the Lord Herbert, in the life of K. Henry VIII. pag. 468.

FINIS.

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