This story is the last of our little trilogy of ancient Greek near death experiences. It differs from more modern accounts by the extreme moralism of the storyteller, and this makes me suspicious that the story may have been improved upon before being set down in writing. Yet numerous interesting points are made in this story, which make it unlikely to be completely made up, among them the very first reference to the so-called ‘silver cord’ to be found anywhere in world literature. It was left to us by Plutarch, and is found in Clough's edition of Plutarch's collected works. I give it here for what it is worth.
There was one Thespesius of Soli, the friend and familiar acquaintance of that Protogenes who for some time conversed among us. This gentleman in his youth led a debauched and intemperate life, in a short time spent his patrimony, and then for some years became very wicked, but afterwards repented of his former follies and extravagances, and pursuing the recovery of his lost estate by all manner of tricks and shifts, did as is usual with dissolute and lascivious youths, who, when they have wives of their own, never mind them at all, but when they have dismissed them, and find them married to others that watch them with a more vigilant affection, endeavour to corrupt and vitiate them by all the unjust and wicked provocations imaginable. In this humour, abstaining from nothing that was lewd and illegal, so it tended to his gain and profit, he got no great manner of wealth but procured to himself a world of infamy by his unjust and knavish dealing with all sorts of people. Yet nothing made him more the talk of the country, than the answer which was brought him back from the oracle of Amphilocus. For thither it seems he sent to inquire of the god whether he should live any better during the remainder of his life, to which the oracle answered, that he would live better after he had died. And indeed, not long after the thing came true. For he happened to fall from a certain precipice upon his neck, and though he received no wound nor broke any limb, yet the force of the fall knocked the wind out of him. Three days after, being carried forth to be buried, just as he was about to be let into the grave, suddenly he came to himself and recovered his strength, and so altered the course of his life, that it was almost incredible to those who knew him. For by the report of the Cilicians, there never was in that age a more just person in common dealings between man and man, or more devout and religious as to divine worship, or more an enemy to the wicked, or more constant and faithful to his friends.
For that reason, those who knew him well wanted to hear from him the cause of such a great alteration, not believing that such a thing could come about by mere chance, though it seems that it did just that, as he related to Protogenes and others of his closest friends.
For when his sense left his body, he felt as he would if he had been a pilot flung from the helm of his ship and into the sea by the force of a storm. Afterwards, rising up again above water by degrees, so soon as he thought he had fully recovered his breath, he looked about him every way, as if one eye of his soul had been opened. But he beheld none of the things which he formerly had been wont to see. Instead, he saw stars of vast magnitude, at immense distances from one another, and sending forth a light most wonderful for the brightness of its colour, which shot itself out in length with incredible force, on which the soul, riding as it were in a chariot, was most swiftly, yet as gently and smoothly, dandled from one place to another. But omitting the greatest part of the sights that he beheld, he saw, as he said, the souls of such as were newly dead, as they mounted from below, resembling little fiery bubbles, to which the air gave way. These bubbles afterwards broke insensibly and by degrees, the soul coming forth from them in the shapes of men and women, light and nimble, as being discharged of all earthly substance. However, they differed in their motion. For some of them leaped forth with a wonderful swiftness, and mounted up in a direct line. Others, like so many spindles of spinning-wheels turned round and round, some-times whirling upwards, sometimes darting downwards, with a confused and mixed agitation, that could hardly be stopped in a very long time.’
‘He did not know most of these souls, but, perceiving two or three of his acquaintance, he endeavoured to approach and talk to them. But they neither heard him speak, nor, for that matter, did they seem to be in their right mind, fluttering and out of their senses, disdaining either to be seen or felt. They frisked up and down at first, alone and apart by themselves, till meeting at length with others in the same condition, they clung together. But still their motions were with the same giddiness and uncertainty as before, without steerage or purpose. And they made sounds like the cries of soldiers in combat, intermixed with doleful yells of fear and lamentation. Others towered aloft in the upper region of the air, and these looked gay and pleasant, and frequently accosted each other with kindness and respect. They shunned the troubled souls, and seemed to show discontent by crowding together, and joy and pleasure by expanding and separating from each other. One of these, said he, being the soul of a certain kinsman, whom he did not know well, the person having died when very young, drew near him, and saluted him by the name of Thespesius. At this he was amazed, and said that his name was not Thespesius but Aridaeus, whereupon the spirit replied, “It was true that you were once called that, but from now on you shall be called Thespesius, which is to say, ‘divine.’ For you are not numbered among the dead yet, but by a certain Destiny and permission of the gods you are come here with only your Mind having left the rest of your soul, like an anchor, in your body. And that you may be assured of this, observe that the souls of the dead do not cast a shadow or open and shut their eyelids.” Thespesius, having heard this, was so much the more encouraged to make use of his own reason. And looking around to perceive the truth of what he had been told, he saw that a kind of obscure and shadow-like line followed him, whereas the other souls shone like a round body of perfect light, and were transparent within. And yet there was a very great difference between even those. For some yielded a smooth, even, and continuous lustre, all of one colour, like the full moon in her brightest splendour, and others were marked with long scales or slender streaks. Still others were covered with black speckles like the skins of vipers, and there were yet others who were marked by faint scratches.’
‘At this Thespesius's kinsman told him several things, how that Adrastea, daughter of Jupiter and of Necessity, sat in the highest place of all, to punish every sort of crime. And that in the whole number of the wicked and ungodly, there was not one—great or little, high or low, rich or poor—who could escape by force or cunning the severe lashes of her rigour. But as there are three sorts of punishments, so there are three Furies, or female ministers of Justice; and to each of these belongs a particular office and degree of punishment. The first of these was called Speedy Punishment [Poine], who takes charge of those who are to receive punishment while still in the body, and who she manages in a gentle manner, ignoring many offences which need expiation. If a greater labour is required, they are delivered to Justice [Dike], and if Dike has given them up as incorrigible, then the third and most severe of all Adrastea's ministers, Erinnys, takes them in hand. And after she has chased them from one place to another, flying, yet not knowing where to go for shelter or relief, plagued and tormented with a thousand miseries, she plunges them headlong into an invisible abyss, the hideousness of which no tongue can express.’
‘Now of all these three sorts that which is inflicted by punishment in this life resembles the practice among the barbarians. For as the Persians take off the garments and turbans of those they would punish and tear and whip [the garments] before the offender's faces, while the criminals beg for mercy with tears and lamentations so corporal punishments, mulcts, and fines, have no severity, and do not take hold of the vice itself, but are inflicted mostly with regard to appearances and the senses. But if anyone comes hither who has escaped punishment while he lived upon the earth, and before he was well purged from his crimes. Justice takes him to task, naked, with his soul in full view, and with nothing to conceal his criminality, but on all sides and to all men's eyes exposed, she shows him first to his honest parents, if he had any, that they may see how degenerate he was, and how unworthy of his progenitors. But if his parents were also wicked, then are their sufferings rendered yet more terrible by the mutual sight of each other's miseries, and this continues for a long time, until every crime has been effaced with torments which as much surpass the miseries of the flesh, as these surpass a mere idle dream. But the weals and stripes that remain after punishment appear more obvious in some, less evident in others.’
‘See there, he said, the colours of different souls. The black and sordid hue is the colour of avarice and fraud. The bloody and flame-like colour betokens cruelty and lust for revenge. Where you see the bluish colour, it is a sign that the soul will hardly be cleansed from the impurities of lascivious pleasure and voluptuousness. Finally, the dark, violet, and venomous colour, which resembles the ink spewed up by a cuttle fish, comes from envy. For as during life the wickedness of the soul, being governed by the passions and in turn governing the body, occasions this variety of colours; so here it is the end of expiation and punishment, when these are cleansed away, and the soul recovers her native lustre and becomes clear and spotless. But so long as these remain, there will be some certain returns of the passions, accompanied with little pantings and beatings, as it were of the pulse, in some remiss and languid and quickly extinguished, and in others more quick and vehement. Some of these souls, being born again and again chastised, recover a due habit and disposition, while others, by the force of ignorance and the enticing show of pleasure, are carried into the bodies of brute beasts. For while some, through the feebleness of their reasoning ability, are compelled by their active principle to seek a new incarnation, others, lacking temperance, wish to gratify their desires. Here [on the astral plane] there is nothing but an imperfect shadow and dream of pleasure which cannot be realized.’
‘Having said this, the spirit carried Thespesius to a certain place, where it appeared to him there were wide open spaces, yet so gently, that he seemed to be borne upon rays of light, as if upon wings. At last he came to a gaping chasm which appeared to be bottomless, and there found himself deserted by the extraordinary force that brought him there. He saw other souls there in the same condition as myself. They hovered in flocks like birds, flying around and around the mouth of the chasm, but not daring to enter. Within, the chasm resembled the groves of Bacchus, fringed about with the pleasing verdure of various herbs and plants, and yielding a delightful prospect of all sorts of flowers, interrupting the greenness with a wonderful variety of colours, and at the same time offering a gentle breeze, which graced the air with perfumes as delightful to the souls as the fragrance of wines is to us on earth. The souls which partook of these fragrances were almost all dissolved in raptures of mirth and caresses. There was nothing to be heard for some distance but laughter, and all the sounds of merriment which are common among those who pass their time in sport.’
‘The spirit said that Bacchus ascended by this route to heaven, and afterwards returning fetched Semele the same way. It was called the Place of Oblivion [Lethe]. He would therefore not suffer Thespesius to tarry there, and carried him away against his will, instructing him by this experience how easily the mind is carried away by pleasure, and that the irrational part, having thus been awakened, revives the memory of the body. From this proceeds desire and an appetite for reincarnation. It occurs when the soul is weighed down with too much moisture.’
‘After he had been carried the same distance in the other direction, Thespesius thought he saw an enormous goblet, into which several rivers emptied. Among them was one which was whiter than snow. Another resembled a rainbow. The tinctures of the rest were varied. As he drew nearer, the air became more rarefied and the colours disappeared, so that the goblet was perfectly white, and he saw three daemons sitting together in a triangular formation, mixing the rivers together in certain measures. Thus far, said Thespesius's guide, did Orpheus come when he sought for the soul of his wife. When he returned to earth, he remembered what he had seen only imperfectly, and popularized a false conception. Orpheus said that the Delphic oracle was common to Night and Apollo, whereas Apollo never had anything to do with Night. But, said he spirit, the oracle is common to Night and the Moon which is not within the earth's boundaries, and has no fixed or certain seat, but wanders among men in dreams and visions. For it is for this reason that dreams are confused, compounded as they are of truth and falsehood intermixed. But concerning the oracle of Apollo, said the spirit, you neither see it, nor can behold it. For the earthbound part of the soul cannot let itself loose, and therefore cannot ascend to sublimity [Devachan], but tends earthward, being fastened to the body.’
‘With that, leading Thespesius nearer, the spirit endeavoured to show him the light of the Tripod, which, as he said, fell upon Parnassus after shooting through the bosom of Themis. Thespesius wanted to see this, but could not since he was dazzled by the extraordinary brilliance of the light. Passing by, he heard the shrill voice of a woman speaking in verse, and, as he thought, foretelling the time of his own death, among other things. This, the spirit told him, was the voice of a Sybil, who was whirled about in orbit across the face of the Moon, and who continually sang of future events. He wanted to hear more but he was tossed in the opposite direction by the motion of the Moon, as by the force of rolling waves, so that he could hear very little, and that only in bits and pieces. Among other things, he heard prophecies concerning Mount Vesuvius, and the destruction of Dicaearchia by fire, together with a fragment of verse concerning an emperor of his time,
‘Who, though so just that no man could accuse,
However, his empire should by sickness lose.’
‘After this, they passed on to see the torments of the dammed, and they did indeed see some dismal sights. Thespesius unexpectedly found himself among his friends and relatives, who were groaning and who called him by name. At length he saw his father ascending from a certain abyss, covered with stripes, gashes, and scars. He was not permitted to keep silence, but was compelled to make confession by his tormentors, and stretching out his hands, admitted that he had poisoned some of his guests for the sake of their gold. He had gone undetected in life, but was convicted in death and had already undergone some of his punishments, and was being summoned to a place where he would undergo even more. Thespesius was so frightened by this that he did not dare intercede on his father's behalf. He wanted very much to leave, and looked around for his guide, but he was nowhere to be seen.’
‘He was pushed forward by deformed and grim-faced goblins, and found that the shadows of those who had been notorious criminals in this life and had been punished in life, were not punished so grievously as the others, nor even in the same manner, for their tendency toward vice comes from an imperfection in the irrational part of their soul. As for those who concealed their vice with an outward show of virtue, their tormentors turned them inside out, causing them great pain, like the sea scolopenders, which, having swallowed a hook, throw out their bowels and lick it in again. Others they flayed and terrified, to bring their secret hypocrisies and latent impieties, which possessed and corrupted the principal part of their souls, into the open. Still others he saw, who were intertwined in twos and threes, and who devoured each other, either because of ancient grudges, or else in revenge for injuries suffered while on earth.’
‘Moreover, he said that there were certain lakes, equidistant one from the other, one of boiling cold, another of frozen lead, and still another of scaly and rugged iron. By the sides of these stood certain daemons with instruments, who lowered and raised the souls of avaricious and greedy men like smiths in a forge. For the flame of the golden furnace having rendered these souls of a fiery and transparent colour, they plunged them into that of lead, where, after they were congealed and hardened into a substance like hail, they were thrown into the lake of iron, where they became black and deformed, and being broken and crumbled by the roughness of the iron, changed their form. In all these transformations they endured the most dreadful torments. But they who suffered the most were those who believed that the divine vengeance had no more in store for them, and were seized and dragged to further execution. And these were those for whom their posterity suffered. For when any of the souls of those children meet those of their parents or ancestors, they fly into a rage, and accuse them and show them the marks of what they have endured. The parents try to hide themselves, but the others follow them and lay such bitter taunts upon them, that their tormentors lay hold of them and take them to new torments, howling and yelling at the very thought of what they have endured already. He said that as they murmured their complaints some of these souls of posterity swarmed together like bees or bats.’
‘The last things he saw were the souls of those who were destined for reincarnation. They were bowed, bent, and transformed into all sorts of creatures with tools and anvils which certain workmen, appointed for the purpose, used without mercy, bruising the limbs of some, breaking those of others, disjointing others, and pounding still others to powder, to render them fit for other lives. Among them he saw the soul of Nero being grievously tortured in many ways but especially by being transfixed with nails. This soul the workmen took in hand, but when they had forged it into the form of one of Pindar's vipers, which eats its way to life through the bowels of the female, suddenly a conspicuous light shone forth, and a voice was heard out of the light, which ordered the soul transfigured again into some other, more gentle, creature, and so they made it to resemble one of the creatures that sing and croak at the sides of ponds and marshes. For indeed he had been punished in some measure for his crimes, and besides, the gods owed him some compassion. He restored the Greeks to their liberty, and the Greeks were of all his subjects the most beloved of the gods.’
‘As he was about to return [to his body], a woman admirable for her form and stature, took him by the arm, saying, “Come hither, that thou mayest the better be able to retain the remembrance of what thou hast seen.” With that, she was about to strike him with a small fiery wand, similar to the kind painters use, but another woman prevented her. And then he thought himself whirled away by a strong and violent wind and forced as it were through a pipe. And so, lighting again into his own body, he awoke and found himself on the brink of his own grave.’