“By no means, Socrates,” said Simmias.

“But what? about the pleasures of love?”

“Not at all.”

24.  “What, then?  Does such a man appear to you to think other bodily indulgences of value?  For instance, does he seem to you to value or despise the possession of magnificent garments and sandals, and other ornaments of the body except so far as necessity compels him to use them?”

“The true philosopher,” he answered, “appears to me to despise them.”

“Does not, then,” he continued, “the whole employment of such a man appear to you to be, not about the body, but to separate himself from it as much as possible, and be occupied about his soul?”

“It does.”

“First of all, then, in such matters, does not the philosopher, above all other men, evidently free his soul as much as he can from communion with the body?”

“It appears so.”

25.  “And it appears, Simmias, to the generality of men, that he who takes no pleasure in such things, and who does not use them, does not deserve to live; but that he nearly approaches to death who cares nothing for the pleasures that subsist through the body.”

“You speak very truly.”

“But what with respect to the acquisition of wisdom?  Is the body an impediment, or not, if any one takes it with him as a partner in the search?  What I mean is this:  Do sight and hearing convey any truth to men, or are they such as the poets constantly sing, who say that we neither hear nor see any thing with accuracy?  If, however, these bodily senses are neither accurate nor clear, much less can the others be so; for they are all far inferior to these.  Do they not seem so to you?”

“Certainly,” he replied.

26.  “When, then,” said he, “does the soul light on the truth? for when it attempts to consider any thing in conjunction with the body, it is plain that it is then led astray by it.”

“You say truly.”

“Must it not, then, be by reasoning, if at all, that any of the things that really are become known to it?”

“Yes.”

“And surely the soul then reasons best when none of these things disturb it—­neither hearing, nor sight, nor pain, nor pleasure of any kind; but it retires as much as possible within itself, taking leave of the body; and, so far as it can, not communicating or being in contact with it, it aims at the discovery of that which is.”

“Such is the case.”

“Does not, then, the soul of the philosopher, in these cases, despise the body, and flee from it, and seek to retire within itself?”

“It appears so.”

27.  “But what as to such things as these, Simmias?  Do we say that justice itself is something or nothing?”

“We say it is something, by Jupiter!”

“And that beauty and goodness are something?”

“How not?”

“Now, then, have you ever seen any thing of this kind with your eyes?”