Book 1, Chapter 30

72 “For this was his belief and his argument: souls departing from the body have two paths, two different courses. Those who had defiled themselves with human vices and surrendered wholly to their desires, blinded by which they had either polluted themselves with private vices and shameful acts, or incurred inexpiable guilt by doing violence to their country, take a remote path, shut off from the company of the gods. But those who had kept themselves pure and undefiled, who had had as little contact as possible with their bodies, had always withdrawn from them, and had imitated the life of the gods while living in human bodies, find an easy road home to those from whom they came.

73 “And so he recalls the swans, sacred to Apollo not without reason, but because they seem to have received from him the gift of prophecy. Foreseeing through it the good that lies in death, they die with song and pleasure; and all good and learned people should do likewise. (Nor could anyone doubt this, were it not that when we think intently about the soul, we meet the same fate as people who, gazing hard at the failing sun, often lose their sight altogether. So the mind’s vision, turned upon itself, sometimes grows dim; and for that reason we lose our power of attentive contemplation. Thus, doubting, looking about, hesitating, fearing many dangers, as though on a raft on a boundless sea,

74 “our argument is carried along.) But these are old stories, and Greek ones. Cato, by contrast, departed from life rejoicing that he had found a reason to die. For the god who rules within us forbids us to leave this place without his command. But when the god himself has given a just reason, as he did then to Socrates and recently to Cato, and often to many others, then indeed, by heaven, the wise man will gladly pass from this darkness into that light. Yet he will not have broken his prison’s chains—the laws forbid that—but will have gone out summoned and released by a god, as by a magistrate or some lawful authority. For the whole life of philosophers, as Socrates also says, is a preparation for death.”

72 “His belief, as he explained it, was that souls leaving the body have two roads to travel, two different courses. Some people have polluted themselves with human vices and given themselves entirely to their desires. Blinded by those desires, they’ve either stained themselves with private wrongdoing and disgraceful behavior or committed unforgivable crimes by attacking their country. For them there is a roundabout route, cut off from the company of the gods. But others have kept themselves unspoiled and pure. They’ve had as little contact with their bodies as possible, have always drawn themselves away from them, and have copied the gods’ way of life while still in human bodies. For them an easy return lies open to those from whom they came.

73 “He therefore brings up the swans. They’re dedicated to Apollo for a reason: they seem to get from him the ability to foresee the future. They can see the good that death holds for them, so they die singing and happy. He says all good and educated people should do the same. (No one could doubt this, except that when we think hard about the soul, something happens to us like what often happens to people who stare intently at the sun during an eclipse: they lose their sight altogether. In the same way, the mind’s vision sometimes grows dull when it looks at itself, and that makes us give up our careful examination. So, doubtful and hesitant, looking around and fearing many obstacles, as though on a raft in an immense sea,

74 “our discussion is carried along.) But these examples are old and Greek. Cato, by contrast, left life delighted that he had found a reason to die. The god who rules within us forbids us to move out of here without his orders. But when the god himself has given a proper reason—as he did for Socrates then, for Cato just recently, and often for many others—then, by Dius Fidius, a wise person will gladly leave this darkness for that light. He won’t have broken his prison chains—the laws forbid that. Instead, he’ll have left at the god’s summons and with his release, just as though a magistrate or some lawful authority had called him out and let him go. As Socrates also says, a philosopher’s whole life is practice for death.”