Part 17

I saw the trial of a well known orator, who took the sieve with great confidence as a benefactor to his country. His harangues were placed in it, and a few of them passed through, as having enjoined what was useful; but the chief part, notwithstanding their eloquence, could obtain no passage, and some of them, as soon as they were kindled, seemed to give him great torment. I also saw three celebrated poets receive judgment. They were Anacreon, Archilochus, and Sappho. Their poems lay in the heap amongst the other actions of their lives, and were subjected to the consideration of the sieve. Those strains which had caused virtue immediately fell through, and the lays that had encouraged vice were detained to become firebrands. Many were the dissolute odes which Anacreon shook without success, though he tried every part of the sieve, as if he had imagined that some of its holes would be more indulgent than others. His debaucheries, too, were obstructed in the same manner as his poetry; and as he had lived to a great age, and continued his poetry and his enjoyments to the last, he made a large conflagration. Sappho having lived and written as voluptuously as Anacreon, was as unsuccessful in her agitation of the sieve. Archilochus, also, had many licentious poems to burn him; and many others were stopped in the sieve on account of their malevolent and unjust satire.

I shall not enumerate all the trials that I saw before I came to judgment myself. I was fully satisfied of the justice of all that I had seen, and was therefore in great terror, for I believed many of my actions to be quite disqualified for passing so rigorous a sieve. And so they proved; for though I shook them with great vigour, a considerable heap remained after the deduction of faults equal in number to the good actions. With great reluctance and horror of mind I rolled myself in them as I was commanded, and rose covered with my crimes, which burst into a blaze as soon as the torch was applied. The pain was dreadful, and I wonder that by any means I could have been made to forget it. The conducting fury drove me away to a large plain, where all the criminals were collected. There was here no light except from the flame of our own crimes, and we all wandered about in restless agony. Some rolled upon the ground in hope of extinguishing their fires, but not a crime could be smothered till it had been burned out in the manner ordained. The whole place was filled with screams and lamentations.

After some years of these dreary pains our fires evidently began to abate. At the end of twenty years three of my errors had gone out, and others were burning faintly. When fifty years had passed the flames had disappeared from all of us.

As soon as we were extinguished, several furies appeared with whips, and drove us to a distant part of hell, where we had to make choice of bodies in which to pass another life in the world. But first we underwent a singular examination. The plain where we had been burning was surrounded by a wall, and in leaving it we all passed through a gate, at which sat a minister of the place, whose name I know not. He seized every spectre that passed, and closely examined him; some he dismissed, but upon others he performed a strange operation. For when he had found one that required this remedy, he fixed his nails into the head, and tore him downwards into two parts, as a man may tear a piece of cloth. Every spectre so divided uttered a loud scream as if the separation were very painful. It was remarkable, that each part was still an entire spectre, and appeared as large as when the two were united. The operator then examined the two halves, and sometimes tore them again, each still retaining its size. Thus, in some instances, he made six or seven spectres out of one. The reason of this I afterwards discovered, and must explain to you. When this ceremony is ended, the spectres are turned into an enclosed place, where they find a crowd of bodies, being those which they had inhabited upon earth. Each has liberty to enter either his own body or any other that he can seize, a great strife, therefore, takes place; and in the contest for bodies it frequently happens that two or more souls obtain a lodgement in the same. These souls are compressed together, and pass through life as one person. This, therefore, is the cause why so many contradictory thoughts and inclinations are often found in the same man, for the two or more souls can never be united so as to make a single mind, but each preserves its own nature; and thus they are always contending together, sometimes one gaining the ascendant and sometimes another. When a man dies they go out of him as one spectre, having been pressed into each other by the body, so that they cannot separate themselves by their own efforts. They are then punished together, since their crimes have been committed in concert; but as they leave the place of punishment they are torn asunder as I have related. The executioner who divides them knows by examination whether each spectre consists of one soul or more, and never suffers a double one to pass. I was scrutinised with the rest, and being found single escaped the laceration of which I was much in dread.

I observed that when a soul had been divided, each single part was very different in appearance and character from the compound soul before separation. Thus Sappho, after being examined, was torn into two parts, when one half of her appeared a soul of elevated and solemn genius, the other half had in a previous existence been a woman of lascivious and disorderly life, who having obtained entrance into the body chosen by the woman of genius had filled her disposition and her poetry with vice. As soon as they were separate, the sublime Sappho began with great indignation to reproach her late associate with the disgraceful pleasures in which she had involved her. The other was not at all disconcerted, but received the censure with a laugh.

I heard many other souls, after separation, inveighing against their confederates, and declaring what great things they could have done had they been single. Some of the souls thus reproved denied their guilt, and affirmed that they had first been misled by the accuser, so that there were many disputes amongst the cloven spectres. We were now turned into the place where the bodies we had last lived in awaited us, and amongst these we had each to choose a habitation for another life. The bodies here presented a very singular spectacle, having no minds to animate them, but standing upright without motion, and without thought or life in the countenance. Some strange adventures now ensued amongst the souls, in haste to take possession of the bodies that pleased them. A soul enters the body by opening the mouth and crawling in, being able by a little effort and struggling to compress itself so as to be admitted. On every side, therefore, bodies were seen in the act of swallowing their souls; and it frequently happened, that when a soul had only his legs projecting from the mouth another seized him by the feet, and dragged him back again, having a desire for the same body.

I immediately saw the frame which I had last inhabited, but had no wish to return into it, for it had neither strength nor beauty. Why I had chosen it before I know not, for the draught of the Egyptian had not restored things so remote to my memory. I resolved, therefore, to provide myself with a better figure, and wandered about in search of a body to my taste.

I found that when a spectre had taken possession of a body, he was not immediately united with it so as to form one being, nor could he command it, as we living men rule our bodies; he was at first a separate creature from the body, though not at liberty to leave it when once settled within. The uniting of mind and body takes place afterwards.

Many souls were extremely desirous of being the only occupiers of a body, which gave rise to innumerable contests; for when a spectre of this solitary temper had established himself in a body that he liked, he vigorously defended it against all assailants. In many places a soul was seen on the outside of a body eagerly endeavouring to force open the mouth, which another soul within was striving to keep shut. Sometimes the possessor remonstrated loudly against the invasion, and insisted on his right to live alone. Other souls formed willing confederacies, and chose a body by agreement, in which they might live together. Sometimes he who was conscious of a deficiency in any particular quality associated himself with one who had it in an eminent degree. I saw five or six merry spectres, who purposely formed themselves into a composition of the most incongruous characters, and seemed to be much diverted with the expectation of being a very singular man. I remarked, that the souls which had been united in a former existence always took care not to become confederates again. Any spectre might enter either a male or female body, and several therefore took the opportunity of changing their sex. But in this case the former disposition still continues, which explains the effeminate nature of some men, and the masculine temper of certain women. In some instances a man and a woman settled themselves in the same body, and it is easy to discover the mixed characters which result from such a composition.

I saw a male and a female spectre, who in their last existence had been husband and wife, and still retained their love for each other. Thinking it probable that if they took different bodies they should be separated for ever, they agreed to become associates in the same. They hesitated at first whether to be a man or a woman, but decided in favour of the male sex; and having found an empty body they crawled into it, but a mischievous spectre, observing this union, crept in after them, not being discovered until he was quite established and immovable. When the husband perceived how his privacy was interrupted, he loudly reproached the intruder, who laughed heartily at finding himself so troublesome.

I shall now, Socrates, relate what I saw take place in the composition of you. I observed a thoughtful spectre wandering about, and appearing in no haste to enter a body. Another soul, which was that of a poet, proposed to him that they should become associates, saying, that the reasoning power of one and the poetical fancy of the other could not fail by combination to produce a splendid genius. The other spectre declined this offer, saying, that he was conscious of a superior intellect, which in his last existence had been rendered quite useless by a bad confederate, and he was therefore determined to be alone. He added, that he cared not what kind of body he should live in, provided he was the sole master of it. This was overheard by another spectre, who in his former life had been a public buffoon, and supported himself by wandering through Greece, telling fables to the crowd, and exhibiting the accomplishments of a monkey. He had been renowned for his satirical humour, and his success in putting some of his hearers out of countenance. This buffoon hearing the words of the philosophical spectre, said to him, "If you wish to have no companion, I advise you to enter the body now before you, for you cannot possibly have any competitors for such a dwelling." The body he recommended was that, Socrates, which you now walk about in; and as I have often heard you ridicule the shape of it, I need not fear to offend you by telling how it came to be your covering. The solemn spectre having considered this body, said, "I really think your advice is good, for I certainly shall not be disturbed by invaders as long as there is another body to be found; besides which, a philosopher has many advantages in being ugly." After a little consideration he opened the mouth, and crawled in, when the buffoon, not able to refuse the opportunity of a jest, crept after him, and had irrevocably entered the body before the philosopher perceived his unwelcome colleague. He then inveighed bitterly against the intruder, and lamented that a second time his intellect would be useless from the levity associated with it. The buffoon contradicted this, and affirmed that his vivacity would much assist the philosopher in his design of instructing the world. Thus, Socrates, were you compounded; and since to the buffoon we owe the satire and irony by which we grow wiser, I think we may rejoice that the philosophical half of you was so cheated.

After this I saw a very beautiful male form disputed by a crowd of spectres. The body was that of Alcibiades, and when I tell him how many opposite characters were finally lodged in it, he will cease to wonder at the variety of inclinations, which he finds within himself. It had first been taken possession of by the spectre of a philosopher, who thought that so noble a figure would give eloquence to his doctrines; and when I first saw it, this philosopher within was guarding the mouth against a multitude of assailants, all eager to inhabit the most beautiful of bodies. I heard him arguing against the justice of the attack, in a smothered voice from within the body, and endeavouring to prove his own sole title. But in spite of his reasoning, the mouth was forced open, and a whole crowd rushed in. The first to enter was the spectre of a debauched reveller, who was followed by an orator, a musician, a pirate, a soldier, a poet, and two courtesans, besides some other spectres, of whose genius and vocation I was ignorant. More wished to enter; but those within, thinking they had a sufficient diversity of character for one man, combined together to close the mouth against all future assailants. Since, therefore, Alcibiades, you find that in your person so many people must agree to act together, you cannot wonder that there is a frequent conflict, and that the philosopher has some difficulty in ruling his associates.

* * * * *

TRUTH RELEASED.

_Translated from a Greek manuscript lately discovered._

A LETTER FROM THRASICLES OF MILETUS TO RHODIUS OF ATHENS.

You must remember, Rhodius, that when I last visited you at Athens we fell into a dispute about the danger of truth, which was occasioned by my advising you to erase certain passages from the book you intend to publish, as being adverse to the general opinion, and against your own peace. You would by no means allow this confiscation; but defended the passages in question with all the fidelity of an author. Hence ensued a controversy between us, whether truth could ever be mischievous, in which, by your arguments against my notions, you fully convinced me that I was right, and I believe I had the same success with you. I have since been engaged in some adventures, which have pursued and decided our dispute in a remarkable manner, and I shall therefore write you a brief account of what has happened. You will probably mistake my narrative for a fiction; but whenever you visit Miletus you may satisfy yourself, from the inhabitants, that the singular events which I shall relate have really happened.

I was one day wandering alone in a wood, and had insensibly penetrated into the thickest, and most remote part of it, when I suddenly perceived myself at the very brink and danger of an opening in the earth, which I found was a well, and looking cautiously down, I saw a glimmering from the surface of water. I was leaving the place when I heard a human voice, weak by the depth, but earnestly calling for aid, the person who spoke having caught sight of me as I leaned over. I called down the well to ask what unfortunate being was below, and by what accident, though I have since thought that this inquiry into the particular method of descent was not the measure that I ought first to have used for the prisoner's release. The voice answered, that the person below was the goddess Truth, who for some centuries had been hidden and useless in that well, and entreated me to assist in her escape. It would commonly be a natural and just caution to disbelieve any person casually met, who should undertake to be Truth, but there was something more than human in this voice, which instantly convinced me: I forgot my fears of this goddess, and eagerly desired her freedom, which by ropes from a neighbouring cottage I soon contrived.

I now saw before me the real person of Truth; and if I had before doubted her divinity, the first sight of her would have persuaded me. It is impossible to describe the beauty and contemplation of her countenance. I had seen her picture by Apelles, which is so beautiful, that I had always thought it must exactly resemble her; but I now found it altogether erroneous, which, perhaps, may be from his having painted without seeing her: for while she has been buried in her well both painters and philosophers have been describing her with as much confidence as if they had been in daily intercourse with her. She thanked me for her release; and I ventured to ask why she had chosen so singular a residence, which, I conceived, would afford her no advantage for instructing mankind. She condescended to give me a short history of herself, saying that she was the daughter of Thought, the oldest of the gods, by a mother of earthly race, whose name was Experience. She had a half sister named Falsehood, from the same father, but of an unknown mother. This sister was so like her in appearance, that they were perpetually mistaken for each other; but their disposition and character were very different, she herself being thoughtful, cautious, and sincere, her sister, volatile, talkative, and deceitful. She had been sent to take possession of this earth, which she was to govern; but her sister had immediately followed her into her new dominions, under pretence of a friendly visit, and here, by her busy nature and plausible arts, she had soon usurped the whole authority. It being found, therefore, that Truth was incapable of command by her own merit, two instruments of government had been sent her from Heaven. These were a torch and a mirror, which she held in her hands when she rose out of the well. It was thought that she would be able to establish her power by these gifts, which were endued with wonderful virtue and discovery. But before she had begun to employ her new arms, having caught sight of her treacherous sister in that wood, she had so eagerly pursued her for reproach and triumph, that she had not seen the well, but fallen into it, and heard the laughter of her sister as she disappeared. I told her it had been affirmed by the philosopher Democritus that she lived in a well but I had supposed this to be a mere fable and allegory. To this she answered, that Democritus, like myself, had discovered her by accident: she had called to him, informed him who she was, and implored freedom, upon which he had endeavoured to negotiate with her, and bargain, that if released she should confirm his particular philosophy, and explode all other doctrines. She asked what were the tenets that he expected her to enforce; in answer to which he had begun to scream forth the heads of his creed. She interrupted him in this erudition, which with a great exertion of voice he was conveying down the well: she assured him that these were chiefly deceptions of her sister, and promised, at being set free, to teach him better things. It appeared, however, that he did not desire her to instruct him, but to ratify the doctrines that he had published; and finding her resolved not to become his accomplice, he had left her, first declaring that he should carefully surround the well with thorns, against the discovery of others. Since that time, a few other philosophers had come by accident to the mouth of her well, but all had refused her freedom, some like Democritus wanting to make conditions in favour of their own fancies, and others telling her that they were frightened by the very sound of her voice, that, if let loose, she would be the most pernicious being, and that the bottom of a well was the only post in which she could do no mischief. Since, however, she was at last free, she declared that she should immediately begin to put in force the arms that had been sent her, and hoped soon to gain by them her just authority. I entreated, that as a reward for my assistance she would make my native city the place of her first revelation. To this she consented, and we approached Miletus. Before we entered the town, the goddess said that her torch must be lit, since it was to be a principal instrument in undeceiving mankind. She breathed upon it, when instantly it broke into a flame, and it is impossible to describe the beauty and rapture from its light. The sudden brightness betrayed the rival sister, Falsehood, who happened then to be very near us, and invisible by her art; but she had no concealment against the torch, and now stood manifest before her offended sister. As they were now together, I could easily distinguish the superiority of Truth; but they were so much alike, that I thought had I seen only one I could not have pronounced with any certainty which of them it was. Truth walked angrily up to her sister; and a conversation ensued, which I will relate as nearly as I can remember the words.

TRUTH.

I wonder at the insolence with which you confront me.

FALSEHOOD.

Will you tell me what behaviour I ought to assume in your presence?

TRUTH.

My surprise is, that you should have the courage to meet one whom you have so basely injured.

FALSEHOOD.

What wrong can you accuse me of?

TRUTH.

That you are found amongst mankind is a sufficient proof of my wrongs. This world was bestowed upon me, and I originally occupied it, but you have supplanted me, called yourself by my name, and governed in my place.

FALSEHOOD.

Now it appears to me that your inability to keep your place amongst men is a proof that you have no such title to the world as you pretend. The wise men of every age have been engaged in seeking you, but in vain. You persist in remaining out of sight, and complain that you are not known and honoured. It is true that for some time past your situation, the bottom of a well, has not been very favourable for teaching the world; but before you made that singular choice of a home you were as much neglected and as little known as now.

TRUTH.

I am unknown, because you offer yourself to those who seek me, and call yourself by my name.

FALSEHOOD.

Am I to blame for proving the more attractive of the two? But you seem to affirm that you alone are entitled to live, and that I ought not to be in the universe.

TRUTH.

The universe would be much more prosperous without you.

FALSEHOOD.

I contend, on the contrary, that from me proceeds almost every thing that is valuable or useful to mankind.

TRUTH.

Indeed! I wish you would name some of the blessings which you bestow upon the world.

FALSEHOOD.

I will do so: my inventions are so numerous that I cannot want topics. First, then, you will grant that religion is a blessing.

TRUTH.

And are you the founder of religion?

FALSEHOOD.

Why, since out of the many religions that have ever been in the world you can certainly claim only one, all the rest must be ascribed to me. Make your choice, therefore, I will give up to you without dispute whichever you select; but the others are mine, and all the piety and virtue which they have caused must redound to my honour.

TRUTH.

A very moderate claim.

FALSEHOOD.

You must acknowledge it, unless you affirm that no virtue has ever been practised except under your one religion.

TRUTH.

I wonder you should think fit to boast of the variety of false religions with which you have deceived the world. This is the complaint I made against you at first, that you have supplanted me in the possession of a world which is by nature mine.

FALSEHOOD.