property, but a possession of the gods, and has no right to make away with
that which does not belong to him. But why, asks Cebes, if he is a
possession of the gods, should he wish to die and leave them? For he is
under their protection; and surely he cannot take better care of himself
than they take of him. Simmias explains that Cebes is really referring to
Socrates, whom they think too unmoved at the prospect of leaving the gods
and his friends. Socrates answers that he is going to other gods who are
wise and good, and perhaps to better friends; and he professes that he is
ready to defend himself against the charge of Cebes. The company shall be
his judges, and he hopes that he will be more successful in convincing them
than he had been in convincing the court.

The philosopher desires death--which the wicked world will insinuate that
he also deserves: and perhaps he does, but not in any sense which they are
capable of understanding. Enough of them: the real question is, What is
the nature of that death which he desires? Death is the separation of soul
and body--and the philosopher desires such a separation. He would like to
be freed from the dominion of bodily pleasures and of the senses, which are
always perturbing his mental vision. He wants to get rid of eyes and ears,
and with the light of the mind only to behold the light of truth. All the
evils and impurities and necessities of men come from the body. And death
separates him from these corruptions, which in life he cannot wholly lay
aside. Why then should he repine when the hour of separation arrives?
Why, if he is dead while he lives, should he fear that other death, through
which alone he can behold wisdom in her purity?

Besides, the philosopher has notions of good and evil unlike those of other
men. For they are courageous because they are afraid of greater dangers,
and temperate because they desire greater pleasures. But he disdains this
balancing of pleasures and pains, which is the exchange of commerce and not