Phaedo (79-80)

Phaedo. And you can see these and touch them and perceive them by the other senses, whereas the things which are always the same can be grasped only by the reason, and are invisible and not to be seen? Certainly, said he, that is true. Now, said he, shall we assume two kinds of existences, one visible, the other invisible? Let us assume them, said Cebes. And that the invisible is always the same and the visible constantly changing? Let us assume that also, said he. Well then, said Socrates, are we not made up of two parts, body and soul? Yes, he replied. Now to which class should we say the body is more similar and more closely akin? To the visible, said he; that is clear to everyone. And the soul? Is it visible or invisible? Invisible, to man, at least, Socrates. But we call things visible and invisible with reference to human vision, do we not? Yes, we do. Then what do we say about the soul? Can it be seen or not? It cannot be seen. Then it is invisible? Yes. Then the soul is more like the invisible than the body is, and the body more like the visible. Necessarily, Socrates. Now we have also been saying for a long time, have we not, that, when the soul makes use of the body for any inquiry, either through seeing or hearing or any of the other senses—for inquiry through the body means inquiry through the senses,—then it is dragged by the body to things which never remain the same, and it wanders about and is confused and dizzy like a drunken man because it lays hold upon such things? Certainly. But when the soul inquires alone by itself, it departs into the realm of the pure, the everlasting, the immortal and the changeless, and being akin to these it dwells always with them whenever it is by itself and is not hindered, and it has rest from its wanderings and remains always the same and unchanging with the changeless, since it is in communion therewith. And this state of the soul is called wisdom. Is it not so? Socrates, said he, what you say is perfectly right and true. And now again, in view of what we said before and of what has just been said, to which class do you think the soul has greater likeness and kinship? I think, Socrates, said he, that anyone, even the dullest, would agree, after this argument that the soul is infinitely more like that which is always the same than that which is not. And the body? Is more like the other. Consider, then, the matter in another way.

Phaedo.When the soul and the body are joined together, nature directs the one to serve and be ruled, and the other to rule and be master. Now this being the case, which seems to you like the divine, and which like the mortal? Or do you not think that the divine is by nature fitted to rule and lead, and the mortal to obey and serve? Yes, I think so. Which, then, does the soul resemble? Clearly, Socrates, the soul is like the divine and the body like the mortal. Then see, Cebes, if this is not the conclusion from all that we have said, that the soul is most like the divine and immortal and intellectual and uniform and indissoluble and ever unchanging, and the body, on the contrary, most like the human and mortal and multiform and unintellectual and dissoluble and ever changing. Can we say anything, my dear Cebes, to show that this is not so? No, we cannot. Well then, since this is the case, is it not natural for the body to meet with speedy dissolution and for the soul, on the contrary, to be entirely indissoluble, or nearly so? Of course. Observe, he went on, that when a man dies, the visible part of him, the body, which lies in the visible world and which we call the corpse, which is naturally subject to dissolution and decomposition, does not undergo these processes at once, but remains for a considerable time, and even for a very long time, if death takes place when the body is in good condition, and at a favorable time of the year. For when the body is shrunk and embalmed, as is done in Egypt, it remains almost entire for an incalculable time. And even if the body decay, some parts of it, such as the bones and sinews and all that, are, so to speak, indestructible. Is not that true? Yes. But the soul, the invisible, which departs into another place which is, like itself, noble and pure and invisible, to the realm of the god of the other world in truth, to the good and wise god, whither, if God will, my soul is soon to go,—is this soul, which has such qualities and such a nature, straightway scattered and destroyed when it departs from the body, as most men say? Far from it, dear Cebes and Simmias, but the truth is much rather this—if it departs pure, dragging with it nothing of the body, because it never willingly associated with the body in life, but avoided it and gathered itself into itself alone, since this has always been its constant study—but this means nothing else than that it pursued philosophy rightly and really practiced being in a state of death: or is not this the practice of death?