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diff --git a/old/14328-8.txt b/old/14328-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..08ca143 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14328-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5907 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Consolation of Philosophy, by Boethius + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Consolation of Philosophy + +Author: Boethius + +Release Date: December 11, 2004 [EBook #14328] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSOLATION OF PHILOSOPHY *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Karina Aleksandrova and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +[Greek: +homôs de kai en toutois dialampei to kalon, +epeidan pherê tis eukolôs pollas kai megalas +atychias, mê di analgêsian, alla gennadas +ôn kai megalopsychos.] + +Aristotle's 'Ethics,' I., xi. 12. + + + + +[Illustration: Diptych representing Narius Manlius Boethius, father of +Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius. The inscription in full would run +thus:-- + +NARIVS MANLIVS BOETHIVS VIR CLARISSIMVS ET INLVSTRIS +EXPRAEFECTVS PRAETORIO PRAEFECTVS VRBIS ET +COMES CONSVL ORDINARIVS ET PARTICIVS + +(_For description vid. Preface, p. vi_)] + + + + +THE CONSOLATION OF PHILOSOPHY OF BOETHIUS. + +Translated into English Prose and Verse + +by + +H.R. JAMES, M.A., CH. CH. OXFORD. + + + Quantumlibet igitur sæviant mali, sapienti tamen corona non + decidet, non arescet. + + Melioribus animum conformaveris, nihil opus est judice præmium + deferente, tu te ipse excellentioribus addidisti; studium ad pejora + deflexeris, extra ne quæsieris ultorem, tu te ipse in deteriora + trusisti. + +LONDON: +ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW. + +1897. + + + + +PREFACE. + +The book called 'The Consolation of Philosophy' was throughout the +Middle Ages, and down to the beginnings of the modern epoch in the +sixteenth century, the scholar's familiar companion. Few books have +exercised a wider influence in their time. It has been translated into +every European tongue, and into English nearly a dozen times, from King +Alfred's paraphrase to the translations of Lord Preston, Causton, +Ridpath, and Duncan, in the eighteenth century. The belief that what +once pleased so widely must still have some charm is my excuse for +attempting the present translation. The great work of Boethius, with its +alternate prose and verse, skilfully fitted together like dialogue and +chorus in a Greek play, is unique in literature, and has a pathetic +interest from the time and circumstances of its composition. It ought +not to be forgotten. Those who can go to the original will find their +reward. There may be room also for a new translation in English after an +interval of close on a hundred years. + +Some of the editions contain a reproduction of a bust purporting to +represent Boethius. Lord Preston's translation, for example, has such a +portrait, which it refers to an original in marble at Rome. This I have +been unable to trace, and suspect that it is apocryphal. The Hope +Collection at Oxford contains a completely different portrait in a +print, which gives no authority. I have ventured to use as a +frontispiece a reproduction from a plaster-cast in the Ashmolean Museum, +taken from an ivory diptych preserved in the Bibliotheca Quiriniana at +Brescia, which represents Narius Manlius Boethius, the father of the +philosopher. Portraiture of this period is so rare that it seemed that, +failing a likeness of the author himself, this authentic representation +of his father might have interest, as giving the consular dress and +insignia of the time, and also as illustrating the decadence of +contemporary art. The consul wears a richly-embroidered cloak; his right +hand holds a staff surmounted by the Roman eagle, his left the _mappa +circensis,_ or napkin used for starting the races in the circus; at his +feet are palms and bags of money--prizes for the victors in the games. +For permission to use this cast my thanks are due to the authorities of +the Ashmolean Museum, as also to Mr. T.W. Jackson, Curator of the Hope +Collection, who first called my attention to its existence. + +I have to thank my brother, Mr. L. James, of Radley College, for much +valuable help and for correcting the proof-sheets of the translation. +The text used is that of Peiper, Leipsic, 1874. + + + + +PROEM. + +Anicus Manlius Severinus Boethius lived in the last quarter of the fifth +century A.D., and the first quarter of the sixth. He was growing to +manhood, when Theodoric, the famous Ostrogoth, crossed the Alps and made +himself master of Italy. Boethius belonged to an ancient family, which +boasted a connection with the legendary glories of the Republic, and was +still among the foremost in wealth and dignity in the days of Rome's +abasement. His parents dying early, he was brought up by Symmachus, whom +the age agreed to regard as of almost saintly character, and afterwards +became his son-in-law. His varied gifts, aided by an excellent +education, won for him the reputation of the most accomplished man of +his time. He was orator, poet, musician, philosopher. It is his peculiar +distinction to have handed on to the Middle Ages the tradition of Greek +philosophy by his Latin translations of the works of Aristotle. Called +early to a public career, the highest honours of the State came to him +unsought. He was sole Consul in 510 A.D., and was ultimately raised by +Theodoric to the dignity of Magister Officiorum, or head of the whole +civil administration. He was no less happy in his domestic life, in the +virtues of his wife, Rusticiana, and the fair promise of his two sons, +Symmachus and Boethius; happy also in the society of a refined circle of +friends. Noble, wealthy, accomplished, universally esteemed for his +virtues, high in the favour of the Gothic King, he appeared to all men a +signal example of the union of merit and good fortune. His felicity +seemed to culminate in the year 522 A.D., when, by special and +extraordinary favour, his two sons, young as they were for so exalted an +honour, were created joint Consuls and rode to the senate-house +attended by a throng of senators, and the acclamations of the multitude. +Boethius himself, amid the general applause, delivered the public speech +in the King's honour usual on such occasions. Within a year he was a +solitary prisoner at Pavia, stripped of honours, wealth, and friends, +with death hanging over him, and a terror worse than death, in the fear +lest those dearest to him should be involved in the worst results of his +downfall. It is in this situation that the opening of the 'Consolation +of Philosophy' brings Boethius before us. He represents himself as +seated in his prison distraught with grief, indignant at the injustice +of his misfortunes, and seeking relief for his melancholy in writing +verses descriptive of his condition. Suddenly there appears to him the +Divine figure of Philosophy, in the guise of a woman of superhuman +dignity and beauty, who by a succession of discourses convinces him of +the vanity of regret for the lost gifts of fortune, raises his mind once +more to the contemplation of the true good, and makes clear to him the +mystery of the world's moral government. + + + + +INDEX + +OF + +VERSE INTERLUDES. + + +BOOK I. +THE SORROWS OF BOETHIUS. + +SONG PAGE + I. BOETHIUS' COMPLAINT 3 + II. HIS DESPONDENCY 9 +III. THE MISTS DISPELLED 12 + IV. NOTHING CAN SUBDUE VIRTUE 16 + V. BOETHIUS' PRAYER 27 + VI. ALL THINGS HAVE THEIR NEEDFUL ORDER 33 +VII. THE PERTURBATIONS OF PASSION 38 + + +BOOK II. +THE VANITY OF FORTUNE'S GIFTS. + + I. FORTUNE'S MALICE 47 + II. MAN'S COVETOUSNESS 51 + III. ALL PASSES 55 + IV. THE GOLDEN MEAN 62 + V. THE FORMER AGE 70 + VI. NERO'S INFAMY 76 + VII. GLORY MAY NOT LAST 82 +VIII. LOVE IS LORD OF ALL 85 + + +BOOK III. +TRUE HAPPINESS AND FALSE. + + I. THE THORNS OF ERROR 93 + II. THE BENT OF NATURE 99 + III. THE INSATIABLENESS OK AVARICE 105 + IV. DISGRACE OF HONOURS CONFERRED BY A TYRANT 109 + V. SELF-MASTERY 113 + VI. TRUE NOBILITY 116 + VII. PLEASURE'S STING 118 +VIII. HUMAN FOLLY 121 + IX. INVOCATION 130 + X. THE TRUE LIGHT 141 + XI. REMINISCENCE 150 + XII. ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 158 + + +BOOK IV. +GOOD AND ILL FORTUNE. + + I. THE SOUL'S FLIGHT 166 + II. THE BONDAGE OF PASSION 177 +III. CIRCE'S CUP 182 + IV. THE UNREASONABLENESS OF HATRED 194 + V. WONDER AND IGNORANCE 197 + VI. THE UNIVERSAL AIM 212 +VII. THE HERO'S PATH 219 + + +BOOK V. +FREE WILL AND GOD'S FOREKNOWLEDGE. + + I. CHANCE 229 + II. THE TRUE SUN 233 +III. TRUTH'S PARADOXES 241 + IV. A PSYCHOLOGICAL FALLACY 250 + V. THE UPWARD LOOK 255 + + + + + +BOOK I. + +THE SORROWS OF BOETHIUS. + + + SUMMARY. + + Boethius' complaint (Song I.).--CH. I. Philosophy appears to + Boethius, drives away the Muses of Poetry, and herself laments + (Song II.) the disordered condition of his mind.--CH. II. Boethius + is speechless with amazement. Philosophy wipes away the tears that + have clouded his eyesight.--CH. III. Boethius recognises his + mistress Philosophy. To his wondering inquiries she explains her + presence, and recalls to his mind the persecutions to which + Philosophy has oftentimes from of old been subjected by an ignorant + world. CH. IV. Philosophy bids Boethius declare his griefs. He + relates the story of his unjust accusation and ruin. He concludes + with a prayer (Song V.) that the moral disorder in human affairs + may be set right.--CH. V. Philosophy admits the justice of + Boethius' self-vindication, but grieves rather for the unhappy + change in his mind. She will first tranquillize his spirit by + soothing remedies.--CH. VI. Philosophy tests Boethius' mental + state by certain questions, and discovers three chief causes of his + soul's sickness: (1) He has forgotten his own true nature; (2) he + knows not the end towards which the whole universe tends; (3) he + knows not the means by which the world is governed. + + + + +BOOK I. + + + +SONG I. + +BOETHIUS' COMPLAINT. + + + Who wrought my studious numbers + Smoothly once in happier days, + Now perforce in tears and sadness + Learn a mournful strain to raise. + Lo, the Muses, grief-dishevelled, + Guide my pen and voice my woe; + Down their cheeks unfeigned the tear drops + To my sad complainings flow! + These alone in danger's hour + Faithful found, have dared attend + On the footsteps of the exile + To his lonely journey's end. + These that were the pride and pleasure + Of my youth and high estate + Still remain the only solace + Of the old man's mournful fate. + Old? Ah yes; swift, ere I knew it, + By these sorrows on me pressed + Age hath come; lo, Grief hath bid me + Wear the garb that fits her best. + O'er my head untimely sprinkled + These white hairs my woes proclaim, + And the skin hangs loose and shrivelled + On this sorrow-shrunken frame. + Blest is death that intervenes not + In the sweet, sweet years of peace, + But unto the broken-hearted, + When they call him, brings release! + Yet Death passes by the wretched, + Shuts his ear and slumbers deep; + Will not heed the cry of anguish, + Will not close the eyes that weep. + For, while yet inconstant Fortune + Poured her gifts and all was bright, + Death's dark hour had all but whelmed me + In the gloom of endless night. + Now, because misfortune's shadow + Hath o'erclouded that false face, + Cruel Life still halts and lingers, + Though I loathe his weary race. + Friends, why did ye once so lightly + Vaunt me happy among men? + Surely he who so hath fallen + Was not firmly founded then. + + + +I. + + +While I was thus mutely pondering within myself, and recording my +sorrowful complainings with my pen, it seemed to me that there appeared +above my head a woman of a countenance exceeding venerable. Her eyes +were bright as fire, and of a more than human keenness; her complexion +was lively, her vigour showed no trace of enfeeblement; and yet her +years were right full, and she plainly seemed not of our age and time. +Her stature was difficult to judge. At one moment it exceeded not the +common height, at another her forehead seemed to strike the sky; and +whenever she raised her head higher, she began to pierce within the very +heavens, and to baffle the eyes of them that looked upon her. Her +garments were of an imperishable fabric, wrought with the finest threads +and of the most delicate workmanship; and these, as her own lips +afterwards assured me, she had herself woven with her own hands. The +beauty of this vesture had been somewhat tarnished by age and neglect, +and wore that dingy look which marble contracts from exposure. On the +lower-most edge was inwoven the Greek letter [Greek: P], on the topmost +the letter [Greek: Th],[A] and between the two were to be seen steps, +like a staircase, from the lower to the upper letter. This robe, +moreover, had been torn by the hands of violent persons, who had each +snatched away what he could clutch.[B] Her right hand held a note-book; +in her left she bore a staff. And when she saw the Muses of Poesie +standing by my bedside, dictating the words of my lamentations, she was +moved awhile to wrath, and her eyes flashed sternly. 'Who,' said she, +'has allowed yon play-acting wantons to approach this sick man--these +who, so far from giving medicine to heal his malady, even feed it with +sweet poison? These it is who kill the rich crop of reason with the +barren thorns of passion, who accustom men's minds to disease, instead +of setting them free. Now, were it some common man whom your allurements +were seducing, as is usually your way, I should be less indignant. On +such a one I should not have spent my pains for naught. But this is one +nurtured in the Eleatic and Academic philosophies. Nay, get ye gone, ye +sirens, whose sweetness lasteth not; leave him for my muses to tend and +heal!' At these words of upbraiding, the whole band, in deepened +sadness, with downcast eyes, and blushes that confessed their shame, +dolefully left the chamber. + +But I, because my sight was dimmed with much weeping, and I could not +tell who was this woman of authority so commanding--I was dumfoundered, +and, with my gaze fastened on the earth, continued silently to await +what she might do next. Then she drew near me and sat on the edge of my +couch, and, looking into my face all heavy with grief and fixed in +sadness on the ground, she bewailed in these words the disorder of my +mind: + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] [Greek: P] (P) stands for the Political life, the life of action; +[Greek: Th] (Th) for the Theoretical life, the life of thought. + +[B] The Stoic, Epicurean, and other philosophical sects, which Boethius +regards as heterodox. See also below, ch. iii., p. 14. + + + +SONG II. + +HIS DESPONDENCY. + + + Alas! in what abyss his mind + Is plunged, how wildly tossed! + Still, still towards the outer night + She sinks, her true light lost, + As oft as, lashed tumultuously + By earth-born blasts, care's waves rise high. + + Yet once he ranged the open heavens, + The sun's bright pathway tracked; + Watched how the cold moon waxed and waned; + Nor rested, till there lacked + To his wide ken no star that steers + Amid the maze of circling spheres. + + The causes why the blusterous winds + Vex ocean's tranquil face, + Whose hand doth turn the stable globe, + Or why his even race + From out the ruddy east the sun + Unto the western waves doth run: + + What is it tempers cunningly + The placid hours of spring, + So that it blossoms with the rose + For earth's engarlanding: + Who loads the year's maturer prime + With clustered grapes in autumn time: + + All this he knew--thus ever strove + Deep Nature's lore to guess. + Now, reft of reason's light, he lies, + And bonds his neck oppress; + While by the heavy load constrained, + His eyes to this dull earth are chained. + + + +II. + + +'But the time,' said she, 'calls rather for healing than for +lamentation.' Then, with her eyes bent full upon me, 'Art thou that +man,' she cries, 'who, erstwhile fed with the milk and reared upon the +nourishment which is mine to give, had grown up to the full vigour of a +manly spirit? And yet I had bestowed such armour on thee as would have +proved an invincible defence, hadst thou not first cast it away. Dost +thou know me? Why art thou silent? Is it shame or amazement that hath +struck thee dumb? Would it were shame; but, as I see, a stupor hath +seized upon thee.' Then, when she saw me not only answering nothing, but +mute and utterly incapable of speech, she gently touched my breast with +her hand, and said: 'There is no danger; these are the symptoms of +lethargy, the usual sickness of deluded minds. For awhile he has +forgotten himself; he will easily recover his memory, if only he first +recognises me. And that he may do so, let me now wipe his eyes that are +clouded with a mist of mortal things.' Thereat, with a fold of her robe, +she dried my eyes all swimming with tears. + + + +SONG III. + +THE MISTS DISPELLED. + + + Then the gloom of night was scattered, + Sight returned unto mine eyes. + So, when haply rainy Caurus + Rolls the storm-clouds through the skies, + Hidden is the sun; all heaven + Is obscured in starless night. + But if, in wild onset sweeping, + Boreas frees day's prisoned light, + All suddenly the radiant god outstreams, + And strikes our dazzled eyesight with his beams. + + + +III. + + +Even so the clouds of my melancholy were broken up. I saw the clear sky, +and regained the power to recognise the face of my physician. +Accordingly, when I had lifted my eyes and fixed my gaze upon her, I +beheld my nurse, Philosophy, whose halls I had frequented from my youth +up. + +'Ah! why,' I cried, 'mistress of all excellence, hast thou come down +from on high, and entered the solitude of this my exile? Is it that +thou, too, even as I, mayst be persecuted with false accusations?' + +'Could I desert thee, child,' said she, 'and not lighten the burden +which thou hast taken upon thee through the hatred of my name, by +sharing this trouble? Even forgetting that it were not lawful for +Philosophy to leave companionless the way of the innocent, should I, +thinkest thou, fear to incur reproach, or shrink from it, as though +some strange new thing had befallen? Thinkest thou that now, for the +first time in an evil age, Wisdom hath been assailed by peril? Did I not +often in days of old, before my servant Plato lived, wage stern warfare +with the rashness of folly? In his lifetime, too, Socrates, his master, +won with my aid the victory of an unjust death. And when, one after the +other, the Epicurean herd, the Stoic, and the rest, each of them as far +as in them lay, went about to seize the heritage he left, and were +dragging me off protesting and resisting, as their booty, they tore in +pieces the garment which I had woven with my own hands, and, clutching +the torn pieces, went off, believing that the whole of me had passed +into their possession. And some of them, because some traces of my +vesture were seen upon them, were destroyed through the mistake of the +lewd multitude, who falsely deemed them to be my disciples. It may be +thou knowest not of the banishment of Anaxagoras, of the poison draught +of Socrates, nor of Zeno's torturing, because these things happened in +a distant country; yet mightest thou have learnt the fate of Arrius, of +Seneca, of Soranus, whose stories are neither old nor unknown to fame. +These men were brought to destruction for no other reason than that, +settled as they were in my principles, their lives were a manifest +contrast to the ways of the wicked. So there is nothing thou shouldst +wonder at, if on the seas of this life we are tossed by storm-blasts, +seeing that we have made it our chiefest aim to refuse compliance with +evil-doers. And though, maybe, the host of the wicked is many in number, +yet is it contemptible, since it is under no leadership, but is hurried +hither and thither at the blind driving of mad error. And if at times +and seasons they set in array against us, and fall on in overwhelming +strength, our leader draws off her forces into the citadel while they +are busy plundering the useless baggage. But we from our vantage ground, +safe from all this wild work, laugh to see them making prize of the most +valueless of things, protected by a bulwark which aggressive folly may +not aspire to reach.' + + + +SONG IV. + +NOTHING CAN SUBDUE VIRTUE. + + + Whoso calm, serene, sedate, + Sets his foot on haughty fate; + Firm and steadfast, come what will, + Keeps his mien unconquered still; + Him the rage of furious seas, + Tossing high wild menaces, + Nor the flames from smoky forges + That Vesuvius disgorges, + Nor the bolt that from the sky + Smites the tower, can terrify. + Why, then, shouldst thou feel affright + At the tyrant's weakling might? + Dread him not, nor fear no harm, + And thou shall his rage disarm; + But who to hope or fear gives way-- + Lost his bosom's rightful sway-- + He hath cast away his shield, + Like a coward fled the field; + He hath forged all unaware + Fetters his own neck must bear! + + + +IV. + + +'Dost thou understand?' she asks. Do my words sink into thy mind? Or art +thou dull "as the ass to the sound of the lyre"? Why dost thou weep? Why +do tears stream from thy eyes? + + '"Speak out, hide it not in thy heart." + +If thou lookest for the physician's help, thou must needs disclose thy +wound.' + +Then I, gathering together what strength I could, began: 'Is there still +need of telling? Is not the cruelty of fortune against me plain enough? +Doth not the very aspect of this place move thee? Is this the library, +the room which thou hadst chosen as thy constant resort in my home, the +place where we so often sat together and held discourse of all things in +heaven and earth? Was my garb and mien like this when I explored with +thee nature's hid secrets, and thou didst trace for me with thy wand +the courses of the stars, moulding the while my character and the whole +conduct of my life after the pattern of the celestial order? Is this the +recompense of my obedience? Yet thou hast enjoined by Plato's mouth the +maxim, "that states would be happy, either if philosophers ruled them, +or if it should so befall that their rulers would turn philosophers." By +his mouth likewise thou didst point out this imperative reason why +philosophers should enter public life, to wit, lest, if the reins of +government be left to unprincipled and profligate citizens, trouble and +destruction should come upon the good. Following these precepts, I have +tried to apply in the business of public administration the principles +which I learnt from thee in leisured seclusion. Thou art my witness and +that divinity who hath implanted thee in the hearts of the wise, that I +brought to my duties no aim but zeal for the public good. For this cause +I have become involved in bitter and irreconcilable feuds, and, as +happens inevitably, if a man holds fast to the independence of +conscience, I have had to think nothing of giving offence to the +powerful in the cause of justice. How often have I encountered and +balked Conigastus in his assaults on the fortunes of the weak? How often +have I thwarted Trigguilla, steward of the king's household, even when +his villainous schemes were as good as accomplished? How often have I +risked my position and influence to protect poor wretches from the false +charges innumerable with which they were for ever being harassed by the +greed and license of the barbarians? No one has ever drawn me aside from +justice to oppression. When ruin was overtaking the fortunes of the +provincials through the combined pressure of private rapine and public +taxation, I grieved no less than the sufferers. When at a season of +grievous scarcity a forced sale, disastrous as it was unjustifiable, was +proclaimed, and threatened to overwhelm Campania with starvation, I +embarked on a struggle with the prætorian prefect in the public +interest, I fought the case at the king's judgment-seat, and succeeded +in preventing the enforcement of the sale. I rescued the consular +Paulinus from the gaping jaws of the court bloodhounds, who in their +covetous hopes had already made short work of his wealth. To save +Albinus, who was of the same exalted rank, from the penalties of a +prejudged charge, I exposed myself to the hatred of Cyprian, the +informer. + +'Thinkest thou I had laid up for myself store of enmities enough? Well, +with the rest of my countrymen, at any rate, my safety should have been +assured, since my love of justice had left me no hope of security at +court. Yet who was it brought the charges by which I have been struck +down? Why, one of my accusers is Basil, who, after being dismissed from +the king's household, was driven by his debts to lodge an information +against my name. There is Opilio, there is Gaudentius, men who for many +and various offences the king's sentence had condemned to banishment; +and when they declined to obey, and sought to save themselves by taking +sanctuary, the king, as soon as he heard of it, decreed that, if they +did not depart from the city of Ravenna within a prescribed time, they +should be branded on the forehead and expelled. What would exceed the +rigour of this severity? And yet on that same day these very men lodged +an information against me, and the information was admitted. Just +Heaven! had I deserved this by my way of life? Did it make them fit +accusers that my condemnation was a foregone conclusion? Has fortune no +shame--if not at the accusation of the innocent, at least for the +vileness of the accusers? Perhaps thou wonderest what is the sum of the +charges laid against me? I wished, they say, to save the senate. But +how? I am accused of hindering an informer from producing evidence to +prove the senate guilty of treason. Tell me, then, what is thy counsel, +O my mistress. Shall I deny the charge, lest I bring shame on thee? But +I did wish it, and I shall never cease to wish it. Shall I admit it? +Then the work of thwarting the informer will come to an end. Shall I +call the wish for the preservation of that illustrious house a crime? +Of a truth the senate, by its decrees concerning me, has made it such! +But blind folly, though it deceive itself with false names, cannot alter +the true merits of things, and, mindful of the precept of Socrates, I do +not think it right either to keep the truth concealed or allow falsehood +to pass. But this, however it may be, I leave to thy judgment and to the +verdict of the discerning. Moreover, lest the course of events and the +true facts should be hidden from posterity, I have myself committed to +writing an account of the transaction. + +'What need to speak of the forged letters by which an attempt is made to +prove that I hoped for the freedom of Rome? Their falsity would have +been manifest, if I had been allowed to use the confession of the +informers themselves, evidence which has in all matters the most +convincing force. Why, what hope of freedom is left to us? Would there +were any! I should have answered with the epigram of Canius when +Caligula declared him to have been cognisant of a conspiracy against +him. "If I had known," said he, "thou shouldst never have known." Grief +hath not so blunted my perceptions in this matter that I should complain +because impious wretches contrive their villainies against the virtuous, +but at their achievement of their hopes I do exceedingly marvel. For +evil purposes are, perchance, due to the imperfection of human nature; +that it should be possible for scoundrels to carry out their worst +schemes against the innocent, while God beholdeth, is verily monstrous. +For this cause, not without reason, one of thy disciples asked, "If God +exists, whence comes evil? Yet whence comes good, if He exists not?" +However, it might well be that wretches who seek the blood of all honest +men and of the whole senate should wish to destroy me also, whom they +saw to be a bulwark of the senate and all honest men. But did I deserve +such a fate from the Fathers also? Thou rememberest, methinks--since +thou didst ever stand by my side to direct what I should do or say--thou +rememberest, I say, how at Verona, when the king, eager for the general +destruction, was bent on implicating the whole senatorial order in the +charge of treason brought against Albinus, with what indifference to my +own peril I maintained the innocence of its members, one and all. Thou +knowest that what I say is the truth, and that I have never boasted of +my good deeds in a spirit of self-praise. For whenever a man by +proclaiming his good deeds receives the recompense of fame, he +diminishes in a measure the secret reward of a good conscience. What +issues have overtaken my innocency thou seest. Instead of reaping the +rewards of true virtue, I undergo the penalties of a guilt falsely laid +to my charge--nay, more than this; never did an open confession of guilt +cause such unanimous severity among the assessors, but that some +consideration, either of the mere frailty of human nature, or of +fortune's universal instability, availed to soften the verdict of some +few. Had I been accused of a design to fire the temples, to slaughter +the priests with impious sword, of plotting the massacre of all honest +men, I should yet have been produced in court, and only punished on due +confession or conviction. Now for my too great zeal towards the senate I +have been condemned to outlawry and death, unheard and undefended, at a +distance of near five hundred miles away.[C] Oh, my judges, well do ye +deserve that no one should hereafter be convicted of a fault like mine! + +'Yet even my very accusers saw how honourable was the charge they +brought against me, and, in order to overlay it with some shadow of +guilt, they falsely asserted that in the pursuit of my ambition I had +stained my conscience with sacrilegious acts. And yet thy spirit, +indwelling in me, had driven from the chamber of my soul all lust of +earthly success, and with thine eye ever upon me, there could be no +place left for sacrilege. For thou didst daily repeat in my ear and +instil into my mind the Pythagorean maxim, "Follow after God." It was +not likely, then, that I should covet the assistance of the vilest +spirits, when thou wert moulding me to such an excellence as should +conform me to the likeness of God. Again, the innocency of the inner +sanctuary of my home, the company of friends of the highest probity, a +father-in-law revered at once for his pure character and his active +beneficence, shield me from the very suspicion of sacrilege. +Yet--atrocious as it is--they even draw credence for this charge from +_thee_; I am like to be thought implicated in wickedness on this very +account, that I am imbued with _thy_ teachings and stablished in _thy_ +ways. So it is not enough that my devotion to thee should profit me +nothing, but thou also must be assailed by reason of the odium which I +have incurred. Verily this is the very crown of my misfortunes, that +men's opinions for the most part look not to real merit, but to the +event; and only recognise foresight where Fortune has crowned the issue +with her approval. Whereby it comes to pass that reputation is the first +of all things to abandon the unfortunate. I remember with chagrin how +perverse is popular report, how various and discordant men's judgments. +This only will I say, that the most crushing of misfortune's burdens is, +that as soon as a charge is fastened upon the unhappy, they are believed +to have deserved their sufferings. I, for my part, who have been +banished from all life's blessings, stripped of my honours, stained in +repute, am punished for well-doing. + +'And now methinks I see the villainous dens of the wicked surging with +joy and gladness, all the most recklessly unscrupulous threatening a new +crop of lying informations, the good prostrate with terror at my danger, +every ruffian incited by impunity to new daring and to success by the +profits of audacity, the guiltless not only robbed of their peace of +mind, but even of all means of defence. Wherefore I would fain cry out: + +FOOTNOTES: + +[C] The distance from Rome to Pavia, the place of Boethius' +imprisonment, is 455 Roman miles. + + + +SONG V. + +BOETHIUS' PRAYER. + + + 'Builder of yon starry dome, + Thou that whirlest, throned eternal, + Heaven's swift globe, and, as they roam, + Guid'st the stars by laws supernal: + So in full-sphered splendour dight + Cynthia dims the lamps of night, + But unto the orb fraternal + Closer drawn,[D] doth lose her light. + + 'Who at fall of eventide, + Hesper, his cold radiance showeth, + Lucifer his beams doth hide, + Paling as the sun's light groweth, + Brief, while winter's frost holds sway, + By thy will the space of day; + Swift, when summer's fervour gloweth, + Speed the hours of night away. + + 'Thou dost rule the changing year: + When rude Boreas oppresses, + Fall the leaves; they reappear, + Wooed by Zephyr's soft caresses. + Fields that Sirius burns deep grown + By Arcturus' watch were sown: + Each the reign of law confesses, + Keeps the place that is his own. + + 'Sovereign Ruler, Lord of all! + Can it be that Thou disdainest + Only man? 'Gainst him, poor thrall, + Wanton Fortune plays her vainest. + Guilt's deserved punishment + Falleth on the innocent; + High uplifted, the profanest + On the just their malice vent. + + 'Virtue cowers in dark retreats, + Crime's foul stain the righteous beareth, + Perjury and false deceits + Hurt not him the wrong who dareth; + But whene'er the wicked trust + In ill strength to work their lust, + Kings, whom nations' awe declareth + Mighty, grovel in the dust. + + 'Look, oh look upon this earth, + Thou who on law's sure foundation + Framedst all! Have we no worth, + We poor men, of all creation? + Sore we toss on fortune's tide; + Master, bid the waves subside! + And earth's ways with consummation + Of Thy heaven's order guide!' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[D] The moon is regarded as farthest from the sun at the full, and, as +she wanes, approaching gradually nearer. + + + +V. + + +When I had poured out my griefs in this long and unbroken strain of +lamentation, she, with calm countenance, and in no wise disturbed at my +complainings, thus spake: + +'When I saw thee sorrowful, in tears, I straightway knew thee wretched +and an exile. But how far distant that exile I should not know, had not +thine own speech revealed it. Yet how far indeed from thy country hast +thou, not been banished, but rather hast strayed; or, if thou wilt have +it banishment, hast banished thyself! For no one else could ever +lawfully have had this power over thee. Now, if thou wilt call to mind +from what country thou art sprung, it is not ruled, as once was the +Athenian polity, by the sovereignty of the multitude, but "one is its +Ruler, one its King," who takes delight in the number of His citizens, +not in their banishment; to submit to whose governance and to obey +whose ordinances is perfect freedom. Art thou ignorant of that most +ancient law of this thy country, whereby it is decreed that no one +whatsoever, who hath chosen to fix there his dwelling, may be sent into +exile? For truly there is no fear that one who is encompassed by its +ramparts and defences should deserve to be exiled. But he who has ceased +to wish to dwell therein, he likewise ceases to deserve to do so. And so +it is not so much the aspect of this place which moves me, as thy +aspect; not so much the library walls set off with glass and ivory which +I miss, as the chamber of thy mind, wherein I once placed, not books, +but that which gives books their value, the doctrines which my books +contain. Now, what thou hast said of thy services to the commonweal is +true, only too little compared with the greatness of thy deservings. The +things laid to thy charge whereof thou hast spoken, whether such as +redound to thy credit, or mere false accusations, are publicly known. As +for the crimes and deceits of the informers, thou hast rightly deemed +it fitting to pass them over lightly, because the popular voice hath +better and more fully pronounced upon them. Thou hast bitterly +complained of the injustice of the senate. Thou hast grieved over my +calumniation, and likewise hast lamented the damage to my good name. +Finally, thine indignation blazed forth against fortune; thou hast +complained of the unfairness with which thy merits have been +recompensed. Last of all thy frantic muse framed a prayer that the peace +which reigns in heaven might rule earth also. But since a throng of +tumultuous passions hath assailed thy soul, since thou art distraught +with anger, pain, and grief, strong remedies are not proper for thee in +this thy present mood. And so for a time I will use milder methods, that +the tumours which have grown hard through the influx of disturbing +passion may be softened by gentle treatment, till they can bear the +force of sharper remedies.' + + + +SONG VI. + +ALL THINGS HAVE THEIR NEEDFUL ORDER + + + He who to th' unwilling furrows + Gives the generous grain, + When the Crab with baleful fervours + Scorches all the plain; + He shall find his garner bare, + Acorns for his scanty fare. + + Go not forth to cull sweet violets + From the purpled steep, + While the furious blasts of winter + Through the valleys sweep; + Nor the grape o'erhasty bring + To the press in days of spring. + + For to each thing God hath given + Its appointed time; + No perplexing change permits He + In His plan sublime. + So who quits the order due + Shall a luckless issue rue. + + + +VI. + + +'First, then, wilt thou suffer me by a few questions to make some +attempt to test the state of thy mind, that I may learn in what way to +set about thy cure?' + +'Ask what thou wilt,' said I, 'for I will answer whatever questions thou +choosest to put.' + +Then said she: 'This world of ours--thinkest thou it is governed +haphazard and fortuitously, or believest thou that there is in it any +rational guidance?' + +'Nay,' said I, 'in no wise may I deem that such fixed motions can be +determined by random hazard, but I know that God, the Creator, presideth +over His work, nor will the day ever come that shall drive me from +holding fast the truth of this belief.' + +'Yes,' said she; 'thou didst even but now affirm it in song, lamenting +that men alone had no portion in the divine care. As to the rest, thou +wert unshaken in the belief that they were ruled by reason. Yet I +marvel exceedingly how, in spite of thy firm hold on this opinion, thou +art fallen into sickness. But let us probe more deeply: something or +other is missing, I think. Now, tell me, since thou doubtest not that +God governs the world, dost thou perceive by what means He rules it?' + +'I scarcely understand what thou meanest,' I said, 'much less can I +answer thy question.' + +'Did I not say truly that something is missing, whereby, as through a +breach in the ramparts, disease hath crept in to disturb thy mind? But, +tell me, dost thou remember the universal end towards which the aim of +all nature is directed?' + +'I once heard,' said I, 'but sorrow hath dulled my recollection.' + +'And yet thou knowest whence all things have proceeded.' + +'Yes, that I know,' said I, 'and have answered that it is from God.' + +'Yet how is it possible that thou knowest not what is the end of +existence, when thou dost understand its source and origin? However, +these disturbances of mind have force to shake a man's position, but +cannot pluck him up and root him altogether out of himself. But answer +this also, I pray thee: rememberest thou that thou art a man?' + +'How should I not?' said I. + +'Then, canst thou say what man is?' + +'Is this thy question: Whether I know myself for a being endowed with +reason and subject to death? Surely I do acknowledge myself such.' + +Then she: 'Dost know nothing else that thou art?' + +'Nothing.' + +'Now,' said she, 'I know another cause of thy disease, one, too, of +grave moment. Thou hast ceased to know thy own nature. So, then, I have +made full discovery both of the causes of thy sickness and the means of +restoring thy health. It is because forgetfulness of thyself hath +bewildered thy mind that thou hast bewailed thee as an exile, as one +stripped of the blessings that were his; it is because thou knowest not +the end of existence that thou deemest abominable and wicked men to be +happy and powerful; while, because thou hast forgotten by what means the +earth is governed, thou deemest that fortune's changes ebb and flow +without the restraint of a guiding hand. These are serious enough to +cause not sickness only, but even death; but, thanks be to the Author of +our health, the light of nature hath not yet left thee utterly. In thy +true judgment concerning the world's government, in that thou believest +it subject, not to the random drift of chance, but to divine reason, we +have the divine spark from which thy recovery may be hoped. Have, then, +no fear; from these weak embers the vital heat shall once more be +kindled within thee. But seeing that it is not yet time for strong +remedies, and that the mind is manifestly so constituted that when it +casts off true opinions it straightway puts on false, wherefrom arises a +cloud of confusion that disturbs its true vision, I will now try and +disperse these mists by mild and soothing application, that so the +darkness of misleading passion may be scattered, and thou mayst come to +discern the splendour of the true light.' + + + +SONG VII. + +THE PERTURBATIONS OF PASSION. + + + Stars shed no light + Through the black night, + When the clouds hide; + And the lashed wave, + If the winds rave + O'er ocean's tide,-- + + Though once serene + As day's fair sheen,-- + Soon fouled and spoiled + By the storm's spite, + Shows to the sight + Turbid and soiled. + + Oft the fair rill, + Down the steep hill + Seaward that strays, + Some tumbled block + Of fallen rock + Hinders and stays. + + Then art thou fain + Clear and most plain + Truth to discern, + In the right way + Firmly to stay, + Nor from it turn? + + Joy, hope and fear + Suffer not near, + Drive grief away: + Shackled and blind + And lost is the mind + Where these have sway. + + + + +BOOK II. + +THE VANITY OF FORTUNE'S GIFTS + + + Summary + + CH. I. Philosophy reproves Boethius for the foolishness of his + complaints against Fortune. Her very nature is caprice.--CH. II. + Philosophy in Fortune's name replies to Boethius' reproaches, and + proves that the gifts of Fortune are hers to give and to take + away.--CH. III. Boethius falls back upon his present sense of + misery. Philosophy reminds him of the brilliancy of his former + fortunes.--CH. IV. Boethius objects that the memory of past + happiness is the bitterest portion of the lot of the unhappy. + Philosophy shows that much is still left for which he may be + thankful. None enjoy perfect satisfaction with their lot. But + happiness depends not on anything which Fortune can give. It is to + be sought within.--CH. V. All the gifts of Fortune are external; + they can never truly be our own. Man cannot find his good in + worldly possessions. Riches bring anxiety and trouble.--CH. VI. + High place without virtue is an evil, not a good. Power is an empty + name.--CH. VII. Fame is a thing of little account when compared + with the immensity of the Universe and the endlessness of + Time.--CH. VIII. One service only can Fortune do, when she reveals + her own nature and distinguishes true friends from false. + + + + +BOOK II. + + + +I. + + +Thereafter for awhile she remained silent; and when she had restored my +flagging attention by a moderate pause in her discourse, she thus began: +'If I have thoroughly ascertained the character and causes of thy +sickness, thou art pining with regretful longing for thy former fortune. +It is the change, as thou deemest, of this fortune that hath so wrought +upon thy mind. Well do I understand that Siren's manifold wiles, the +fatal charm of the friendship she pretends for her victims, so long as +she is scheming to entrap them--how she unexpectedly abandons them and +leaves them overwhelmed with insupportable grief. Bethink thee of her +nature, character, and deserts, and thou wilt soon acknowledge that in +her thou hast neither possessed, nor hast thou lost, aught of any worth. +Methinks I need not spend much pains in bringing this to thy mind, +since, even when she was still with thee, even while she was caressing +thee, thou usedst to assail her in manly terms, to rebuke her, with +maxims drawn from my holy treasure-house. But all sudden changes of +circumstances bring inevitably a certain commotion of spirit. Thus it +hath come to pass that thou also for awhile hast been parted from thy +mind's tranquillity. But it is time for thee to take and drain a +draught, soft and pleasant to the taste, which, as it penetrates within, +may prepare the way for stronger potions. Wherefore I call to my aid the +sweet persuasiveness of Rhetoric, who then only walketh in the right way +when she forsakes not my instructions, and Music, my handmaid, I bid to +join with her singing, now in lighter, now in graver strain. + +'What is it, then, poor mortal, that hath cast thee into lamentation and +mourning? Some strange, unwonted sight, methinks, have thine eyes seen. +Thou deemest Fortune to have changed towards thee; thou mistakest. Such +ever were her ways, ever such her nature. Rather in her very mutability +hath she preserved towards thee her true constancy. Such was she when +she loaded thee with caresses, when she deluded thee with the +allurements of a false happiness. Thou hast found out how changeful is +the face of the blind goddess. She who still veils herself from others +hath fully discovered to thee her whole character. If thou likest her, +take her as she is, and do not complain. If thou abhorrest her perfidy, +turn from her in disdain, renounce her, for baneful are her delusions. +The very thing which is now the cause of thy great grief ought to have +brought thee tranquillity. Thou hast been forsaken by one of whom no one +can be sure that she will not forsake him. Or dost thou indeed set value +on a happiness that is certain to depart? Again I ask, Is Fortune's +presence dear to thee if she cannot be trusted to stay, and though she +will bring sorrow when she is gone? Why, if she cannot be kept at +pleasure, and if her flight overwhelms with calamity, what is this +fleeting visitant but a token of coming trouble? Truly it is not enough +to look only at what lies before the eyes; wisdom gauges the issues of +things, and this same mutability, with its two aspects, makes the +threats of Fortune void of terror, and her caresses little to be +desired. Finally, thou oughtest to bear with whatever takes place within +the boundaries of Fortune's demesne, when thou hast placed thy head +beneath her yoke. But if thou wishest to impose a law of staying and +departing on her whom thou hast of thine own accord chosen for thy +mistress, art thou not acting wrongfully, art thou not embittering by +impatience a lot which thou canst not alter? Didst thou commit thy sails +to the winds, thou wouldst voyage not whither thy intention was to go, +but whither the winds drave thee; didst thou entrust thy seed to the +fields, thou wouldst set off the fruitful years against the barren. Thou +hast resigned thyself to the sway of Fortune; thou must submit to thy +mistress's caprices. What! art thou verily striving to stay the swing +of the revolving wheel? Oh, stupidest of mortals, if it takes to +standing still, it ceases to be the wheel of Fortune.' + + + +SONG I. + +FORTUNE'S MALICE. + + + Mad Fortune sweeps along in wanton pride, + Uncertain as Euripus' surging tide; + Now tramples mighty kings beneath her feet; + Now sets the conquered in the victor's seat. + She heedeth not the wail of hapless woe, + But mocks the griefs that from her mischief flow. + Such is her sport; so proveth she her power; + And great the marvel, when in one brief hour + She shows her darling lifted high in bliss, + Then headlong plunged in misery's abyss. + + + +II. + + +'Now I would fain also reason with thee a little in Fortune's own words. +Do thou observe whether her contentions be just. "Man," she might say, +"why dost thou pursue me with thy daily complainings? What wrong have I +done thee? What goods of thine have I taken from thee? Choose an thou +wilt a judge, and let us dispute before him concerning the rightful +ownership of wealth and rank. If thou succeedest in showing that any one +of these things is the true property of mortal man, I freely grant those +things to be thine which thou claimest. When nature brought thee forth +out of thy mother's womb, I took thee, naked and destitute as thou wast, +I cherished thee with my substance, and, in the partiality of my favour +for thee, I brought thee up somewhat too indulgently, and this it is +which now makes thee rebellious against me. I surrounded thee with a +royal abundance of all those things that are in my power. Now it is my +pleasure to draw back my hand. Thou hast reason to thank me for the use +of what was not thine own; thou hast no right to complain, as if thou +hadst lost what was wholly thine. Why, then, dost bemoan thyself? I have +done thee no violence. Wealth, honour, and all such things are placed +under my control. My handmaidens know their mistress; with me they come, +and at my going they depart. I might boldly affirm that if those things +the loss of which thou lamentest had been thine, thou couldst never have +lost them. Am I alone to be forbidden to do what I will with my own? +Unrebuked, the skies now reveal the brightness of day, now shroud the +daylight in the darkness of night; the year may now engarland the face +of the earth with flowers and fruits, now disfigure it with storms and +cold. The sea is permitted to invite with smooth and tranquil surface +to-day, to-morrow to roughen with wave and storm. Shall man's insatiate +greed bind _me_ to a constancy foreign to my character? This is my art, +this the game I never cease to play. I turn the wheel that spins. I +delight to see the high come down and the low ascend. Mount up, if thou +wilt, but only on condition that thou wilt not think it a hardship to +come down when the rules of my game require it. Wert thou ignorant of my +character? Didst not know how Croesus, King of the Lydians, erstwhile +the dreaded rival of Cyrus, was afterwards pitiably consigned to the +flame of the pyre, and only saved by a shower sent from heaven? Has it +'scaped thee how Paullus paid a meed of pious tears to the misfortunes +of King Perseus, his prisoner? What else do tragedies make such woeful +outcry over save the overthrow of kingdoms by the indiscriminate strokes +of Fortune? Didst thou not learn in thy childhood how there stand at the +threshold of Zeus 'two jars,' 'the one full of blessings, the other of +calamities'? How if thou hast drawn over-liberally from the good jar? +What if not even now have I departed wholly from thee? What if this very +mutability of mine is a just ground for hoping better things? But listen +now, and cease to let thy heart consume away with fretfulness, nor +expect to live on thine own terms in a realm that is common to all.' + + + +SONG II. + +MAN'S COVETOUSNESS. + + + What though Plenty pour her gifts + With a lavish hand, + Numberless as are the stars, + Countless as the sand, + Will the race of man, content, + Cease to murmur and lament? + + Nay, though God, all-bounteous, give + Gold at man's desire-- + Honours, rank, and fame--content + Not a whit is nigher; + But an all-devouring greed + Yawns with ever-widening need. + + Then what bounds can e'er restrain + This wild lust of having, + When with each new bounty fed + Grows the frantic craving? + He is never rich whose fear + Sees grim Want forever near. + + + +III. + + +'If Fortune should plead thus against thee, assuredly thou wouldst not +have one word to offer in reply; or, if thou canst find any +justification of thy complainings, thou must show what it is. I will +give thee space to speak.' + +Then said I: 'Verily, thy pleas are plausible--yea, steeped in the +honeyed sweetness of music and rhetoric. But their charm lasts only +while they are sounding in the ear; the sense of his misfortunes lies +deeper in the heart of the wretched. So, when the sound ceases to +vibrate upon the air, the heart's indwelling sorrow is felt with renewed +bitterness.' + +Then said she: 'It is indeed as thou sayest, for we have not yet come to +the curing of thy sickness; as yet these are but lenitives conducing to +the treatment of a malady hitherto obstinate. The remedies which go deep +I will apply in due season. Nevertheless, to deprecate thy +determination to be thought wretched, I ask thee, Hast thou forgotten +the extent and bounds of thy felicity? I say nothing of how, when +orphaned and desolate, thou wast taken into the care of illustrious men; +how thou wast chosen for alliance with the highest in the state--and +even before thou wert bound to their house by marriage, wert already +dear to their love--which is the most precious of all ties. Did not all +pronounce thee most happy in the virtues of thy wife, the splendid +honours of her father, and the blessing of male issue? I pass over--for +I care not to speak of blessings in which others also have shared--the +distinctions often denied to age which thou enjoyedst in thy youth. I +choose rather to come to the unparalleled culmination of thy good +fortune. If the fruition of any earthly success has weight in the scale +of happiness, can the memory of that splendour be swept away by any +rising flood of troubles? That day when thou didst see thy two sons ride +forth from home joint consuls, followed by a train of senators, and +welcomed by the good-will of the people; when these two sat in curule +chairs in the Senate-house, and thou by thy panegyric on the king didst +earn the fame of eloquence and ability; when in the Circus, seated +between the two consuls, thou didst glut the multitude thronging around +with the triumphal largesses for which they looked--methinks thou didst +cozen Fortune while she caressed thee, and made thee her darling. Thou +didst bear off a boon which she had never before granted to any private +person. Art thou, then, minded to cast up a reckoning with Fortune? Now +for the first time she has turned a jealous glance upon thee. If thou +compare the extent and bounds of thy blessings and misfortunes, thou +canst not deny that thou art still fortunate. Or if thou esteem not +thyself favoured by Fortune in that thy then seeming prosperity hath +departed, deem not thyself wretched, since what thou now believest to be +calamitous passeth also. What! art thou but now come suddenly and a +stranger to the scene of this life? Thinkest thou there is any stability +in human affairs, when man himself vanishes away in the swift course of +time? It is true that there is little trust that the gifts of chance +will abide; yet the last day of life is in a manner the death of all +remaining Fortune. What difference, then, thinkest thou, is there, +whether thou leavest her by dying, or she leave thee by fleeing away?' + + + +SONG III. + +ALL PASSES. + + + When, in rosy chariot drawn, + Phoebus 'gins to light the dawn, + By his flaming beams assailed, + Every glimmering star is paled. + When the grove, by Zephyrs fed, + With rose-blossom blushes red;-- + Doth rude Auster breathe thereon, + Bare it stands, its glory gone. + Smooth and tranquil lies the deep + While the winds are hushed in sleep. + Soon, when angry tempests lash, + Wild and high the billows dash. + Thus if Nature's changing face + Holds not still a moment's space, + Fleeting deem man's fortunes; deem + Bliss as transient as a dream. + One law only standeth fast: + Things created may not last. + + + +IV. + + +Then said I: 'True are thine admonishings, thou nurse of all excellence; +nor can I deny the wonder of my fortune's swift career. Yet it is this +which chafes me the more cruelly in the recalling. For truly in adverse +fortune the worst sting of misery is to _have been_ happy.' + +'Well,' said she, 'if thou art paying the penalty of a mistaken belief, +thou canst not rightly impute the fault to circumstances. If it is the +felicity which Fortune gives that moves thee--mere name though it +be--come reckon up with me how rich thou art in the number and +weightiness of thy blessings. Then if, by the blessing of Providence, +thou hast still preserved unto thee safe and inviolate that which, +howsoever thou mightest reckon thy fortune, thou wouldst have thought +thy most precious possession, what right hast thou to talk of +ill-fortune whilst keeping all Fortune's better gifts? Yet Symmachus, +thy wife's father--a man whose splendid character does honour to the +human race--is safe and unharmed; and while he bewails thy wrongs, this +rare nature, in whom wisdom and virtue are so nobly blended, is himself +out of danger--a boon thou wouldst have been quick to purchase at the +price of life itself. Thy wife yet lives, with her gentle disposition, +her peerless modesty and virtue--this the epitome of all her graces, +that she is the true daughter of her sire--she lives, I say, and for thy +sake only preserves the breath of life, though she loathes it, and pines +away in grief and tears for thy absence, wherein, if in naught else, I +would allow some marring of thy felicity. What shall I say of thy sons +and their consular dignity--how in them, so far as may be in youths of +their age, the example of their father's and grandfather's character +shines out? Since, then, the chief care of mortal man is to preserve his +life, how happy art thou, couldst thou but recognise thy blessings, who +possessest even now what no one doubts to be dearer than life! +Wherefore, now dry thy tears. Fortune's hate hath not involved all thy +dear ones; the stress of the storm that has assailed thee is not beyond +measure intolerable, since there are anchors still holding firm which +suffer thee not to lack either consolation in the present or hope for +the future.' + +'I pray that they still may hold. For while they still remain, however +things may go, I shall ride out the storm. Yet thou seest how much is +shorn of the splendour of my fortunes.' + +'We are gaining a little ground,' said she, 'if there is something in +thy lot wherewith thou art not yet altogether discontented. But I cannot +stomach thy daintiness when thou complainest with such violence of grief +and anxiety because thy happiness falls short of completeness. Why, who +enjoys such settled felicity as not to have some quarrel with the +circumstances of his lot? A troublous matter are the conditions of human +bliss; either they are never realized in full, or never stay +permanently. One has abundant riches, but is shamed by his ignoble +birth. Another is conspicuous for his nobility, but through the +embarrassments of poverty would prefer to be obscure. A third, richly +endowed with both, laments the loneliness of an unwedded life. Another, +though happily married, is doomed to childlessness, and nurses his +wealth for a stranger to inherit. Yet another, blest with children, +mournfully bewails the misdeeds of son or daughter. Wherefore, it is not +easy for anyone to be at perfect peace with the circumstances of his +lot. There lurks in each several portion something which they who +experience it not know nothing of, but which makes the sufferer wince. +Besides, the more favoured a man is by Fortune, the more fastidiously +sensitive is he; and, unless all things answer to his whim, he is +overwhelmed by the most trifling misfortunes, because utterly unschooled +in adversity. So petty are the trifles which rob the most fortunate of +perfect happiness! How many are there, dost thou imagine, who would +think themselves nigh heaven, if but a small portion from the wreck of +thy fortune should fall to them? This very place which thou callest +exile is to them that dwell therein their native land. So true is it +that nothing is wretched, but thinking makes it so, and conversely every +lot is happy if borne with equanimity. Who is so blest by Fortune as not +to wish to change his state, if once he gives rein to a rebellious +spirit? With how many bitternesses is the sweetness of human felicity +blent! And even if that sweetness seem to him to bring delight in the +enjoying, yet he cannot keep it from departing when it will. How +manifestly wretched, then, is the bliss of earthly fortune, which lasts +not for ever with those whose temper is equable, and can give no perfect +satisfaction to the anxious-minded! + +'Why, then, ye children of mortality, seek ye from without that +happiness whose seat is only within us? Error and ignorance bewilder +you. I will show thee, in brief, the hinge on which perfect happiness +turns. Is there anything more precious to thee than thyself? Nothing, +thou wilt say. If, then, thou art master of thyself, thou wilt possess +that which thou wilt never be willing to lose, and which Fortune cannot +take from thee. And that thou mayst see that happiness cannot possibly +consist in these things which are the sport of chance, reflect that, if +happiness is the highest good of a creature living in accordance with +reason, and if a thing which can in any wise be reft away is not the +highest good, since that which cannot be taken away is better than it, +it is plain that Fortune cannot aspire to bestow happiness by reason of +its instability. And, besides, a man borne along by this transitory +felicity must either know or not know its unstability. If he knows not, +how poor is a happiness which depends on the blindness of ignorance! If +he knows it, he needs must fear to lose a happiness whose loss he +believes to be possible. Wherefore, a never-ceasing fear suffers him not +to be happy. Or does he count the possibility of this loss a trifling +matter? Insignificant, then, must be the good whose loss can be borne so +equably. And, further, I know thee to be one settled in the belief that +the souls of men certainly die not with them, and convinced thereof by +numerous proofs; it is clear also that the felicity which Fortune +bestows is brought to an end with the death of the body: therefore, it +cannot be doubted but that, if happiness is conferred in this way, the +whole human race sinks into misery when death brings the close of all. +But if we know that many have sought the joy of happiness not through +death only, but also through pain and suffering, how can life make men +happy by its presence when it makes them not wretched by its loss?' + + + +SONG IV. + +THE GOLDEN MEAN. + + + Who founded firm and sure + Would ever live secure, + In spite of storm and blast + Immovable and fast; + Whoso would fain deride + The ocean's threatening tide;-- + His dwelling should not seek + On sands or mountain-peak. + Upon the mountain's height + The storm-winds wreak their spite: + The shifting sands disdain + Their burden to sustain. + Do thou these perils flee, + Fair though the prospect be, + And fix thy resting-place + On some low rock's sure base. + Then, though the tempests roar, + Seas thunder on the shore, + Thou in thy stronghold blest + And undisturbed shalt rest; + Live all thy days serene, + And mock the heavens' spleen. + + + +V. + + +'But since my reasonings begin to work a soothing effect within thy +mind, methinks I may resort to remedies somewhat stronger. Come, +suppose, now, the gifts of Fortune were not fleeting and transitory, +what is there in them capable of ever becoming truly thine, or which +does not lose value when looked at steadily and fairly weighed in the +balance? Are riches, I pray thee, precious either through thy nature or +in their own? What are they but mere gold and heaps of money? Yet these +fine things show their quality better in the spending than in the +hoarding; for I suppose 'tis plain that greed Alva's makes men hateful, +while liberality brings fame. But that which is transferred to another +cannot remain in one's own possession; and if that be so, then money is +only precious when it is given away, and, by being transferred to +others, ceases to be one's own. Again, if all the money in the world +were heaped up in one man's possession, all others would be made poor. +Sound fills the ears of many at the same time without being broken into +parts, but your riches cannot pass to many without being lessened in the +process. And when this happens, they must needs impoverish those whom +they leave. How poor and cramped a thing, then, is riches, which more +than one cannot possess as an unbroken whole, which falls not to any one +man's lot without the impoverishment of everyone else! Or is it the +glitter of gems that allures the eye? Yet, how rarely excellent soever +may be their splendour, remember the flashing light is in the jewels, +not in the man. Indeed, I greatly marvel at men's admiration of them; +for what can rightly seem beautiful to a being endowed with life and +reason, if it lack the movement and structure of life? And although such +things do in the end take on them more beauty from their Maker's care +and their own brilliancy, still they in no wise merit your admiration +since their excellence is set at a lower grade than your own. + +'Does the beauty of the fields delight you? Surely, yes; it is a +beautiful part of a right beautiful whole. Fitly indeed do we at times +enjoy the serene calm of the sea, admire the sky, the stars, the moon, +the sun. Yet is any of these thy concern? Dost thou venture to boast +thyself of the beauty of any one of them? Art _thou_ decked with +spring's flowers? is it _thy_ fertility that swelleth in the fruits of +autumn? Why art thou moved with empty transports? why embracest thou an +alien excellence as thine own? Never will fortune make thine that which +the nature of things has excluded from thy ownership. Doubtless the +fruits of the earth are given for the sustenance of living creatures. +But if thou art content to supply thy wants so far as suffices nature, +there is no need to resort to fortune's bounty. Nature is content with +few things, and with a very little of these. If thou art minded to force +superfluities upon her when she is satisfied, that which thou addest +will prove either unpleasant or harmful. But, now, thou thinkest it +fine to shine in raiment of divers colours; yet--if, indeed, there is +any pleasure in the sight of such things--it is the texture or the +artist's skill which I shall admire. + +'Or perhaps it is a long train of servants that makes thee happy? Why, +if they behave viciously, they are a ruinous burden to thy house, and +exceeding dangerous to their own master; while if they are honest, how +canst thou count other men's virtue in the sum of thy possessions? From +all which 'tis plainly proved that not one of these things which thou +reckonest in the number of thy possessions is really thine. And if there +is in them no beauty to be desired, why shouldst thou either grieve for +their loss or find joy in their continued possession? While if they are +beautiful in their own nature, what is that to thee? They would have +been not less pleasing in themselves, though never included among thy +possessions. For they derive not their preciousness from being counted +in thy riches, but rather thou hast chosen to count them in thy riches +because they seemed to thee precious. + +'Then, what seek ye by all this noisy outcry about fortune? To chase +away poverty, I ween, by means of abundance. And yet ye find the result +just contrary. Why, this varied array of precious furniture needs more +accessories for its protection; it is a true saying that they want most +who possess most, and, conversely, they want very little who measure +their abundance by nature's requirements, not by the superfluity of vain +display. Have ye no good of your own implanted within you, that ye seek +your good in things external and separate? Is the nature of things so +reversed that a creature divine by right of reason can in no other way +be splendid in his own eyes save by the possession of lifeless chattels? +Yet, while other things are content with their own, ye who in your +intellect are God-like seek from the lowest of things adornment for a +nature of supreme excellence, and perceive not how great a wrong ye do +your Maker. His will was that mankind should excel all things on earth. +Ye thrust down your worth beneath the lowest of things. For if that in +which each thing finds its good is plainly more precious than that whose +good it is, by your own estimation ye put yourselves below the vilest of +things, when ye deem these vile things to be your good: nor does this +fall out undeservedly. Indeed, man is so constituted that he then only +excels other things when he knows himself; but he is brought lower than +the beasts if he lose this self-knowledge. For that other creatures +should be ignorant of themselves is natural; in man it shows as a +defect. How extravagant, then, is this error of yours, in thinking that +anything can be embellished by adornments not its own. It cannot be. For +if such accessories add any lustre, it is the accessories that get the +praise, while that which they veil and cover remains in its pristine +ugliness. And again I say, That is no _good_, which injures its +possessor. Is this untrue? No, quite true, thou sayest. And yet riches +have often hurt those that possessed them, since the worst of men, who +are all the more covetous by reason of their wickedness, think none but +themselves worthy to possess all the gold and gems the world contains. +So thou, who now dreadest pike and sword, mightest have trolled a carol +"in the robber's face," hadst thou entered the road of life with empty +pockets. Oh, wondrous blessedness of perishable wealth, whose +acquisition robs thee of security!' + + + +SONG V. + +THE FORMER AGE. + + + Too blest the former age, their life + Who in the fields contented led, + And still, by luxury unspoiled, + On frugal acorns sparely fed. + + No skill was theirs the luscious grape + With honey's sweetness to confuse; + Nor China's soft and sheeny silks + T' empurple with brave Tyrian hues. + + The grass their wholesome couch, their drink + The stream, their roof the pine's tall shade; + Not theirs to cleave the deep, nor seek + In strange far lands the spoils of trade. + + The trump of war was heard not yet, + Nor soiled the fields by bloodshed's stain; + For why should war's fierce madness arm + When strife brought wound, but brought not gain? + + Ah! would our hearts might still return + To following in those ancient ways. + Alas! the greed of getting glows + More fierce than Etna's fiery blaze. + + Woe, woe for him, whoe'er it was, + Who first gold's hidden store revealed, + And--perilous treasure-trove--dug out + The gems that fain would be concealed! + + + +VI. + + +'What now shall I say of rank and power, whereby, because ye know not +true power and dignity, ye hope to reach the sky? Yet, when rank and +power have fallen to the worst of men, did ever an Etna, belching forth +flame and fiery deluge, work such mischief? Verily, as I think, thou +dost remember how thine ancestors sought to abolish the consular power, +which had been the foundation of their liberties, on account of the +overweening pride of the consuls, and how for that self-same pride they +had already abolished the kingly title! And if, as happens but rarely, +these prerogatives are conferred on virtuous men, it is only the virtue +of those who exercise them that pleases. So it appears that honour +cometh not to virtue from rank, but to rank from virtue. Look, too, at +the nature of that power which ye find so attractive and glorious! Do ye +never consider, ye creatures of earth, what ye are, and over whom ye +exercise your fancied lordship? Suppose, now, that in the mouse tribe +there should rise up one claiming rights and powers for himself above +the rest, would ye not laugh consumedly? Yet if thou lookest to his body +alone, what creature canst thou find more feeble than man, who +oftentimes is killed by the bite of a fly, or by some insect creeping +into the inner passage of his system! Yet what rights can one exercise +over another, save only as regards the body, and that which is lower +than the body--I mean fortune? What! wilt thou bind with thy mandates +the free spirit? Canst thou force from its due tranquillity the mind +that is firmly composed by reason? A tyrant thought to drive a man of +free birth to reveal his accomplices in a conspiracy, but the prisoner +bit off his tongue and threw it into the furious tyrant's face; thus, +the tortures which the tyrant thought the instrument of his cruelty the +sage made an opportunity for heroism. Moreover, what is there that one +man can do to another which he himself may not have to undergo in his +turn? We are told that Busiris, who used to kill his guests, was himself +slain by his guest, Hercules. Regulus had thrown into bonds many of the +Carthaginians whom he had taken in war; soon after he himself submitted +his hands to the chains of the vanquished. Then, thinkest thou that man +hath any power who cannot prevent another's being able to do to him what +he himself can do to others? + +'Besides, if there were any element of natural and proper good in rank +and power, they would never come to the utterly bad, since opposites are +not wont to be associated. Nature brooks not the union of contraries. +So, seeing there is no doubt that wicked wretches are oftentimes set in +high places, it is also clear that things which suffer association with +the worst of men cannot be good in their own nature. Indeed, this +judgment may with some reason be passed concerning all the gifts of +fortune which fall so plentifully to all the most wicked. This ought +also to be considered here, I think: No one doubts a man to be brave in +whom he has observed a brave spirit residing. It is plain that one who +is endowed with speed is swift-footed. So also music makes men musical, +the healing art physicians, rhetoric public speakers. For each of these +has naturally its own proper working; there is no confusion with the +effects of contrary things--nay, even of itself it rejects what is +incompatible. And yet wealth cannot extinguish insatiable greed, nor has +power ever made him master of himself whom vicious lusts kept bound in +indissoluble fetters; dignity conferred on the wicked not only fails to +make them worthy, but contrarily reveals and displays their +unworthiness. Why does it so happen? Because ye take pleasure in calling +by false names things whose nature is quite incongruous thereto--by +names which are easily proved false by the very effects of the things +themselves; even so it is; these riches, that power, this dignity, are +none of them rightly so called. Finally, we may draw the same conclusion +concerning the whole sphere of Fortune, within which there is plainly +nothing to be truly desired, nothing of intrinsic excellence; for she +neither always joins herself to the good, nor does she make good men of +those to whom she is united.' + + + +SONG VI. + +NERO'S INFAMY. + + + We know what mischief dire he wrought-- + Rome fired, the Fathers slain-- + Whose hand with brother's slaughter wet + A mother's blood did stain. + + No pitying tear his cheek bedewed, + As on the corse he gazed; + That mother's beauty, once so fair, + A critic's voice appraised. + + Yet far and wide, from East to West, + His sway the nations own; + And scorching South and icy North + Obey his will alone. + + Did, then, high power a curb impose + On Nero's phrenzied will? + Ah, woe when to the evil heart + Is joined the sword to kill! + + + +VII. + + +Then said I: 'Thou knowest thyself that ambition for worldly success +hath but little swayed me. Yet I have desired opportunity for action, +lest virtue, in default of exercise, should languish away.' + +Then she: 'This is that "last infirmity" which is able to allure minds +which, though of noble quality, have not yet been moulded to any +exquisite refinement by the perfecting of the virtues--I mean, the love +of glory--and fame for high services rendered to the commonweal. And yet +consider with me how poor and unsubstantial a thing this glory is! The +whole of this earth's globe, as thou hast learnt from the demonstration +of astronomy, compared with the expanse of heaven, is found no bigger +than a point; that is to say, if measured by the vastness of heaven's +sphere, it is held to occupy absolutely no space at all. Now, of this so +insignificant portion of the universe, it is about a fourth part, as +Ptolemy's proofs have taught us, which is inhabited by living creatures +known to us. If from this fourth part you take away in thought all that +is usurped by seas and marshes, or lies a vast waste of waterless +desert, barely is an exceeding narrow area left for human habitation. +You, then, who are shut in and prisoned in this merest fraction of a +point's space, do ye take thought for the blazoning of your fame, for +the spreading abroad of your renown? Why, what amplitude or magnificence +has glory when confined to such narrow and petty limits? + +'Besides, the straitened bounds of this scant dwelling-place are +inhabited by many nations differing widely in speech, in usages, in mode +of life; to many of these, from the difficulty of travel, from +diversities of speech, from want of commercial intercourse, the fame not +only of individual men, but even of cities, is unable to reach. Why, in +Cicero's days, as he himself somewhere points out, the fame of the Roman +Republic had not yet crossed the Caucasus, and yet by that time her +name had grown formidable to the Parthians and other nations of those +parts. Seest thou, then, how narrow, how confined, is the glory ye take +pains to spread abroad and extend! Can the fame of a single Roman +penetrate where the glory of the Roman name fails to pass? Moreover, the +customs and institutions of different races agree not together, so that +what is deemed praise worthy in one country is thought punishable in +another. Wherefore, if any love the applause of fame, it shall not +profit him to publish his name among many peoples. Then, each must be +content to have the range of his glory limited to his own people; the +splendid immortality of fame must be confined within the bounds of a +single race. + +'Once more, how many of high renown in their own times have been lost in +oblivion for want of a record! Indeed, of what avail are written records +even, which, with their authors, are overtaken by the dimness of age +after a somewhat longer time? But ye, when ye think on future fame, +fancy it an immortality that ye are begetting for yourselves. Why, if +thou scannest the infinite spaces of eternity, what room hast thou left +for rejoicing in the durability of thy name? Verily, if a single +moment's space be compared with ten thousand years, it has a certain +relative duration, however little, since each period is definite. But +this same number of years--ay, and a number many times as great--cannot +even be compared with endless duration; for, indeed, finite periods may +in a sort be compared one with another, but a finite and an infinite +never. So it comes to pass that fame, though it extend to ever so wide a +space of years, if it be compared to never-lessening eternity, seems not +short-lived merely, but altogether nothing. But as for you, ye know not +how to act aright, unless it be to court the popular breeze, and win the +empty applause of the multitude--nay, ye abandon the superlative worth +of conscience and virtue, and ask a recompense from the poor words of +others. Let me tell thee how wittily one did mock the shallowness of +this sort of arrogance. A certain man assailed one who had put on the +name of philosopher as a cloak to pride and vain-glory, not for the +practice of real virtue, and added: "Now shall I know if thou art a +philosopher if thou bearest reproaches calmly and patiently." The other +for awhile affected to be patient, and, having endured to be abused, +cried out derisively: "_Now_, do you see that I am a philosopher?" The +other, with biting sarcasm, retorted: "I should have hadst thou held thy +peace." Moreover, what concern have choice spirits--for it is of such +men we speak, men who seek glory by virtue--what concern, I say, have +these with fame after the dissolution of the body in death's last hour? +For if men die wholly--which our reasonings forbid us to believe--there +is no such thing as glory at all, since he to whom the glory is said to +belong is altogether non-existent. But if the mind, conscious of its own +rectitude, is released from its earthly prison, and seeks heaven in free +flight, doth it not despise all earthly things when it rejoices in its +deliverance from earthly bonds, and enters upon the joys of heaven?' + + + +SONG VII. + +GLORY MAY NOT LAST. + + + Oh, let him, who pants for glory's guerdon, + Deeming glory all in all, + Look and see how wide the heaven expandeth, + Earth's enclosing bounds how small! + + Shame it is, if your proud-swelling glory + May not fill this narrow room! + Why, then, strive so vainly, oh, ye proud ones! + To escape your mortal doom? + + Though your name, to distant regions bruited, + O'er the earth be widely spread, + Though full many a lofty-sounding title + On your house its lustre shed, + + Death at all this pomp and glory spurneth + When his hour draweth nigh, + Shrouds alike th' exalted and the humble, + Levels lowest and most high. + + Where are now the bones of stanch Fabricius? + Brutus, Cato--where are they? + Lingering fame, with a few graven letters, + Doth their empty name display. + + But to know the great dead is not given + From a gilded name alone; + Nay, ye all alike must lie forgotten, + 'Tis not _you_ that fame makes known. + + Fondly do ye deem life's little hour + Lengthened by fame's mortal breath; + There but waits you--when this, too, is taken-- + At the last a second death. + + + +VIII. + + +'But that thou mayst not think that I wage implacable warfare against +Fortune, I own there is a time when the deceitful goddess serves men +well--I mean when she reveals herself, uncovers her face, and confesses +her true character. Perhaps thou dost not yet grasp my meaning. Strange +is the thing I am trying to express, and for this cause I can scarce +find words to make clear my thought. For truly I believe that Ill +Fortune is of more use to men than Good Fortune. For Good Fortune, when +she wears the guise of happiness, and most seems to caress, is always +lying; Ill Fortune is always truthful, since, in changing, she shows her +inconstancy. The one deceives, the other teaches; the one enchains the +minds of those who enjoy her favour by the semblance of delusive good, +the other delivers them by the knowledge of the frail nature of +happiness. Accordingly, thou mayst see the one fickle, shifting as the +breeze, and ever self-deceived; the other sober-minded, alert, and wary, +by reason of the very discipline of adversity. Finally, Good Fortune, by +her allurements, draws men far from the true good; Ill Fortune ofttimes +draws men back to true good with grappling-irons. Again, should it be +esteemed a trifling boon, thinkest thou, that this cruel, this odious +Fortune hath discovered to thee the hearts of thy faithful friends--that +other hid from thee alike the faces of the true friends and of the +false, but in departing she hath taken away _her_ friends, and left thee +_thine_? What price wouldst thou not have given for this service in the +fulness of thy prosperity when thou seemedst to thyself fortunate? +Cease, then, to seek the wealth thou hast lost, since in true friends +thou hast found the most precious of all riches.' + + + +SONG VIII. + +LOVE IS LORD OF ALL. + + + Why are Nature's changes bound + To a fixed and ordered round? + What to leaguèd peace hath bent + Every warring element? + Wherefore doth the rosy morn + Rise on Phoebus' car upborne? + Why should Phoebe rule the night, + Led by Hesper's guiding light? + What the power that doth restrain + In his place the restless main, + That within fixed bounds he keeps, + Nor o'er earth in deluge sweeps? + Love it is that holds the chains, + Love o'er sea and earth that reigns; + Love--whom else but sovereign Love?-- + Love, high lord in heaven above! + Yet should he his care remit, + All that now so close is knit + In sweet love and holy peace, + Would no more from conflict cease, + But with strife's rude shock and jar + All the world's fair fabric mar. + + Tribes and nations Love unites + By just treaty's sacred rites; + Wedlock's bonds he sanctifies + By affection's softest ties. + Love appointeth, as is due, + Faithful laws to comrades true-- + Love, all-sovereign Love!--oh, then, + Ye are blest, ye sons of men, + If the love that rules the sky + In your hearts is throned on high! + + + + +BOOK III. + +TRUE HAPPINESS AND FALSE. + + + SUMMARY + + CH. I. Boethius beseeches Philosophy to continue. She promises to + lead him to true happiness.--CH. II. Happiness is the one end which + all created beings seek. They aim variously at (_a_) wealth, or + (_b_) rank, or (_c_) sovereignty, or (_d_) glory, or (_e_) + pleasure, because they think thereby to attain either (_a_) + contentment, (_b_) reverence, (_c_) power, (_d_) renown, or (_e_) + gladness of heart, in one or other of which they severally imagine + happiness to consist.--CH. III. Philosophy proceeds to consider + whether happiness can really be secured in any of these ways, (_a_) + So far from bringing contentment, riches only add to men's + wants.--CH. IV. (_b_) High position cannot of itself win respect. + Titles command no reverence in distant and barbarous lands. They + even fall into contempt through lapse of time.--CH. V. (_c_) + Sovereignty cannot even bestow safety. History tells of the + downfall of kings and their ministers. Tyrants go in fear of their + lives. --CH. VI. (_d_) Fame conferred on the unworthy is but + disgrace. The splendour of noble birth is not a man's own, but his + ancestors'.--CH. VII. (_e_) Pleasure begins in the restlessness of + desire, and ends in repentance. Even the pure pleasures of home may + turn to gall and bitterness.--CH. VIII. All fail, then, to give + what they promise. There is, moreover, some accompanying evil + involved in each of these aims. Beauty and bodily strength are + likewise of little worth. In strength man is surpassed by the + brutes; beauty is but outward show.--CH. IX. The source of men's + error in following these phantoms of good is that _they break up + and separate that which is in its nature one and indivisible_. + Contentment, power, reverence, renown, and joy are essentially + bound up one with the other, and, if they are to be attained at + all, must be attained _together_. True happiness, if it can be + found, will include them all. But it cannot be found among the + perishable things hitherto considered.--CH. X. Such a happiness + necessarily exists. Its seat is in God. Nay, God is very happiness, + and in a manner, therefore, the happy man partakes also of the + Divine nature. All other ends are relative to this good, since they + are all pursued only for the sake of good; it is _good_ which is + the sole ultimate end. And since the sole end is also happiness, it + is plain that this good and happiness are in essence the same.--CH. + XI. Unity is another aspect of goodness. Now, all things subsist so + long only as they preserve the unity of their being; when they lose + this unity, they perish. But the bent of nature forces all things + (plants and inanimate things, as well as animals) to strive to + continue in life. Therefore, all things desire unity, for unity is + essential to life. But unity and goodness were shown to be the + same. Therefore, good is proved to be the end towards which the + whole universe tends.[E]--CH. XII. Boethius acknowledges that he is + but recollecting truths he once knew. Philosophy goes on to show + that it is goodness also by which the whole world is governed.[F] + Boethius professes compunction for his former folly. But the + paradox of evil is introduced, and he is once more perplexed. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[E] This solves the second of the points left in doubt at the end of bk. +i., ch. vi. + +[F] This solves the third. No distinct account is given of the first, +but an answer may be gathered from the general argument of bks. ii., +iii., and iv. + + + + +BOOK III. + + + +I. + + +She ceased, but I stood fixed by the sweetness of the song in wonderment +and eager expectation, my ears still strained to listen. And then after +a little I said: 'Thou sovereign solace of the stricken soul, what +refreshment hast thou brought me, no less by the sweetness of thy +singing than by the weightiness of thy discourse! Verily, I think not +that I shall hereafter be unequal to the blows of Fortune. Wherefore, I +no longer dread the remedies which thou saidst were something too severe +for my strength; nay, rather, I am eager to hear of them and call for +them with all vehemence.' + +Then said she: 'I marked thee fastening upon my words silently and +intently, and I expected, or--to speak more truly--I myself brought +about in thee, this state of mind. What now remains is of such sort that +to the taste indeed it is biting, but when received within it turns to +sweetness. But whereas thou dost profess thyself desirous of hearing, +with what ardour wouldst thou not burn didst thou but perceive whither +it is my task to lead thee!' + +'Whither?' said I. + +'To true felicity,' said she, 'which even now thy spirit sees in dreams, +but cannot behold in very truth, while thine eyes are engrossed with +semblances.' + +Then said I: 'I beseech thee, do thou show to me her true shape without +a moment's loss.' + +'Gladly will I, for thy sake,' said she. 'But first I will try to sketch +in words, and describe a cause which is more familiar to thee, that, +when thou hast viewed this carefully, thou mayst turn thy eyes the other +way, and recognise the beauty of true happiness.' + + + +SONG I. + +THE THORNS OF ERROR. + + + Who fain would sow the fallow field, + And see the growing corn, + Must first remove the useless weeds, + The bramble and the thorn. + + After ill savour, honey's taste + Is to the mouth more sweet; + After the storm, the twinkling stars + The eyes more cheerly greet. + + When night hath past, the bright dawn comes + In car of rosy hue; + So drive the false bliss from thy mind, + And thou shall see the true. + + + +II. + + +For a little space she remained in a fixed gaze, withdrawn, as it were, +into the august chamber of her mind; then she thus began: + +'All mortal creatures in those anxious aims which find employment in so +many varied pursuits, though they take many paths, yet strive to reach +one goal--the goal of happiness. Now, _the good_ is that which, when a +man hath got, he can lack nothing further. This it is which is the +supreme good of all, containing within itself all particular good; so +that if anything is still wanting thereto, this cannot be the supreme +good, since something would be left outside which might be desired. 'Tis +clear, then, that happiness is a state perfected by the assembling +together of all good things. To this state, as we have said, all men try +to attain, but by different paths. For the desire of the true good is +naturally implanted in the minds of men; only error leads them aside out +of the way in pursuit of the false. Some, deeming it the highest good to +want for nothing, spare no pains to attain affluence; others, judging +the good to be that to which respect is most worthily paid, strive to +win the reverence of their fellow-citizens by the attainment of official +dignity. Some there are who fix the chief good in supreme power; these +either wish themselves to enjoy sovereignty, or try to attach themselves +to those who have it. Those, again, who think renown to be something of +supreme excellence are in haste to spread abroad the glory of their name +either through the arts of war or of peace. A great many measure the +attainment of good by joy and gladness of heart; these think it the +height of happiness to give themselves over to pleasure. Others there +are, again, who interchange the ends and means one with the other in +their aims; for instance, some want riches for the sake of pleasure and +power, some covet power either for the sake of money or in order to +bring renown to their name. So it is on these ends, then, that the aim +of human acts and wishes is centred, and on others like to these--for +instance, noble birth and popularity, which seem to compass a certain +renown; wife and children, which are sought for the sweetness of their +possession; while as for friendship, the most sacred kind indeed is +counted in the category of virtue, not of fortune; but other kinds are +entered upon for the sake of power or of enjoyment. And as for bodily +excellences, it is obvious that they are to be ranged with the above. +For strength and stature surely manifest power; beauty and fleetness of +foot bring celebrity; health brings pleasure. It is plain, then, that +the only object sought for in all these ways is _happiness_. For that +which each seeks in preference to all else, that is in his judgment the +supreme good. And we have defined the supreme good to be happiness. +Therefore, that state which each wishes in preference to all others is +in his judgment happy. + +'Thou hast, then, set before thine eyes something like a scheme of human +happiness--wealth, rank, power, glory, pleasure. Now Epicurus, from a +sole regard to these considerations, with some consistency concluded the +highest good to be pleasure, because all the other objects seem to bring +some delight to the soul. But to return to human pursuits and aims: +man's mind seeks to recover its proper good, in spite of the mistiness +of its recollection, but, like a drunken man, knows not by what path to +return home. Think you they are wrong who strive to escape want? Nay, +truly there is nothing which can so well complete happiness as a state +abounding in all good things, needing nothing from outside, but wholly +self-sufficing. Do they fall into error who deem that which is best to +be also best deserving to receive the homage of reverence? Not at all. +That cannot possibly be vile and contemptible, to attain which the +endeavours of nearly all mankind are directed. Then, is power not to be +reckoned in the category of good? Why, can that which is plainly more +efficacious than anything else be esteemed a thing feeble and void of +strength? Or is renown to be thought of no account? Nay, it cannot be +ignored that the highest renown is constantly associated with the +highest excellence. And what need is there to say that happiness is not +haunted by care and gloom, nor exposed to trouble and vexation, since +that is a condition we ask of the very least of things, from the +possession and enjoyment of which we expect delight? So, then, these are +the blessings men wish to win; they want riches, rank, sovereignty, +glory, pleasure, because they believe that by these means they will +secure independence, reverence, power, renown, and joy of heart. +Therefore, it is _the good_ which men seek by such divers courses; and +herein is easily shown the might of Nature's power, since, although +opinions are so various and discordant, yet they agree in cherishing +_good_ as the end.' + + + +SONG II. + +THE BENT OF NATURE. + + + How the might of Nature sways + All the world in ordered ways, + How resistless laws control + Each least portion of the whole-- + Fain would I in sounding verse + On my pliant strings rehearse. + + Lo, the lion captive ta'en + Meekly wears his gilded chain; + Yet though he by hand be fed, + Though a master's whip he dread, + If but once the taste of gore + Whet his cruel lips once more, + Straight his slumbering fierceness wakes, + With one roar his bonds he breaks, + And first wreaks his vengeful force + On his trainer's mangled corse. + + And the woodland songster, pent + In forlorn imprisonment, + Though a mistress' lavish care + Store of honeyed sweets prepare; + Yet, if in his narrow cage, + As he hops from bar to bar, + He should spy the woods afar, + Cool with sheltering foliage, + All these dainties he will spurn, + To the woods his heart will turn; + Only for the woods he longs, + Pipes the woods in all his songs. + + To rude force the sapling bends, + While the hand its pressure lends; + If the hand its pressure slack, + Straight the supple wood springs back. + Phoebus in the western main + Sinks; but swift his car again + By a secret path is borne + To the wonted gates of morn. + + Thus are all things seen to yearn + In due time for due return; + And no order fixed may stay, + Save which in th' appointed way + Joins the end to the beginning + In a steady cycle spinning. + + + +III. + + +'Ye, too, creatures of earth, have some glimmering of your origin, +however faint, and though in a vision dim and clouded, yet in some wise, +notwithstanding, ye discern the true end of happiness, and so the aim of +nature leads you thither--to that true good--while error in many forms +leads you astray therefrom. For reflect whether men are able to win +happiness by those means through which they think to reach the proposed +end. Truly, if either wealth, rank, or any of the rest, bring with them +anything of such sort as seems to have nothing wanting to it that is +good, we, too, acknowledge that some are made happy by the acquisition +of these things. But if they are not able to fulfil their promises, and, +moreover, lack many good things, is not the happiness men seek in them +clearly discovered to be a false show? Therefore do I first ask thee +thyself, who but lately wert living in affluence, amid all that +abundance of wealth, was thy mind never troubled in consequence of some +wrong done to thee?' + +'Nay,' said I, 'I cannot ever remember a time when my mind was so +completely at peace as not to feel the pang of some uneasiness.' + +'Was it not because either something was absent which thou wouldst not +have absent, or present which thou wouldst have away?' + +'Yes,' said I. + +'Then, thou didst want the presence of the one, the absence of the +other?' + +'Admitted.' + +'But a man lacks that of which he is in want?' + +'He does.' + +'And he who lacks something is not in all points self-sufficing?' + +'No; certainly not,' said I. + +'So wert thou, then, in the plenitude of thy wealth, supporting this +insufficiency?' + +'I must have been.' + +'Wealth, then, cannot make its possessor independent and free from all +want, yet this was what it seemed to promise. Moreover, I think this +also well deserves to be considered--that there is nothing in the +special nature of money to hinder its being taken away from those who +possess it against their will.' + +'I admit it.' + +'Why, of course, when every day the stronger wrests it from the weaker +without his consent. Else, whence come lawsuits, except in seeking to +recover moneys which have been taken away against their owner's will by +force or fraud?' + +'True,' said I. + +'Then, everyone will need some extraneous means of protection to keep +his money safe.' + +'Who can venture to deny it?' + +'Yet he would not, unless he possessed the money which it is possible to +lose.' + +'No; he certainly would not.' + +'Then, we have worked round to an opposite conclusion: the wealth which +was thought to make a man independent rather puts him in need of further +protection. How in the world, then, can want be driven away by riches? +Cannot the rich feel hunger? Cannot they thirst? Are not the limbs of +the wealthy sensitive to the winter's cold? "But," thou wilt say, "the +rich have the wherewithal to sate their hunger, the means to get rid of +thirst and cold." True enough; want can thus be soothed by riches, +wholly removed it cannot be. For if this ever-gaping, ever-craving want +is glutted by wealth, it needs must be that the want itself which can be +so glutted still remains. I do not speak of how very little suffices for +nature, and how for avarice nothing is enough. Wherefore, if wealth +cannot get rid of want, and makes new wants of its own, how can ye +believe that it bestows independence?' + + + +SONG III. + +THE INSATIABLENESS OF AVARICE. + + + Though the covetous grown wealthy + See his piles of gold rise high; + Though he gather store of treasure + That can never satisfy; + Though with pearls his gorget blazes, + Rarest that the ocean yields; + Though a hundred head of oxen + Travail in his ample fields; + Ne'er shall carking care forsake him + While he draws this vital breath, + And his riches go not with him, + When his eyes are closed in death. + + + +IV. + + +'Well, but official dignity clothes him to whom it comes with honour and +reverence! Have, then, offices of state such power as to plant virtue in +the minds of their possessors, and drive out vice? Nay, they are rather +wont to signalize iniquity than to chase it away, and hence arises our +indignation that honours so often fall to the most iniquitous of men. +Accordingly, Catullus calls Nonius an "ulcer-spot," though "sitting in +the curule chair." Dost not see what infamy high position brings upon +the bad? Surely their unworthiness will be less conspicuous if their +rank does not draw upon them the public notice! In thy own case, wouldst +thou ever have been induced by all these perils to think of sharing +office with Decoratus, since thou hast discerned in him the spirit of a +rascally parasite and informer? No; we cannot deem men worthy of +reverence on account of their office, whom we deem unworthy of the +office itself. But didst thou see a man endued with wisdom, couldst thou +suppose him not worthy of reverence, nor of that wisdom with which he +was endued?' + +'No; certainly not.' + +'There is in Virtue a dignity of her own which she forthwith passes over +to those to whom she is united. And since public honours cannot do this, +it is clear that they do not possess the true beauty of dignity. And +here this well deserves to be noticed--that if a man is the more scorned +in proportion as he is despised by a greater number, high position not +only fails to win reverence for the wicked, but even loads them the more +with contempt by drawing more attention to them. But not without +retribution; for the wicked pay back a return in kind to the dignities +they put on by the pollution of their touch. Perhaps, too, another +consideration may teach thee to confess that true reverence cannot come +through these counterfeit dignities. It is this: If one who had been +many times consul chanced to visit barbaric lands, would his office win +him the reverence of the barbarians? And yet if reverence were the +natural effect of dignities, they would not forego their proper function +in any part of the world, even as fire never anywhere fails to give +forth heat. But since this effect is not due to their own efficacy, but +is attached to them by the mistaken opinion of mankind, they disappear +straightway when they are set before those who do not esteem them +dignities. Thus the case stands with foreign peoples. But does their +repute last for ever, even in the land of their origin? Why, the +prefecture, which was once a great power, is now an empty name--a burden +merely on the senator's fortune; the commissioner of the public corn +supply was once a personage--now what is more contemptible than this +office? For, as we said just now, that which hath no true comeliness of +its own now receives, now loses, lustre at the caprice of those who have +to do with it. So, then, if dignities cannot win men reverence, if they +are actually sullied by the contamination of the wicked, if they lose +their splendour through time's changes, if they come into contempt +merely for lack of public estimation, what precious beauty have they in +themselves, much less to give to others?' + + + +SONG IV. + +DISGRACE OF HONOURS CONFERRED BY A TYRANT. + + + Though royal purple soothes his pride, + And snowy pearls his neck adorn, + Nero in all his riot lives + The mark of universal scorn. + + Yet he on reverend heads conferred + Th' inglorious honours of the state. + Shall we, then, deem them truly blessed + Whom such preferment hath made great? + + + +V. + + +'Well, then, does sovereignty and the intimacy of kings prove able to +confer power? Why, surely does not the happiness of kings endure for +ever? And yet antiquity is full of examples, and these days also, of +kings whose happiness has turned into calamity. How glorious a power, +which is not even found effectual for its own preservation! But if +happiness has its source in sovereign power, is not happiness +diminished, and misery inflicted in its stead, in so far as that power +falls short of completeness? Yet, however widely human sovereignty be +extended, there must still be more peoples left, over whom each several +king holds no sway. Now, at whatever point the power on which happiness +depends ceases, here powerlessness steals in and makes wretchedness; so, +by this way of reckoning, there must needs be a balance of wretchedness +in the lot of the king. The tyrant who had made trial of the perils of +his condition figured the fears that haunt a throne under the image of a +sword hanging over a man's head.[G] What sort of power, then, is this +which cannot drive away the gnawings of anxiety, or shun the stings of +terror? Fain would they themselves have lived secure, but they cannot; +then they boast about their power! Dost thou count him to possess power +whom thou seest to wish what he cannot bring to pass? Dost thou count +him to possess power who encompasses himself with a body-guard, who +fears those he terrifies more than they fear him, who, to keep up the +semblance of power, is himself at the mercy of his slaves? Need I say +anything of the friends of kings, when I show royal dominion itself so +utterly and miserably weak--why ofttimes the royal power in its +plenitude brings them low, ofttimes involves them in its fall? Nero +drove his friend and preceptor, Seneca, to the choice of the manner of +his death. Antoninus exposed Papinianus, who was long powerful at +court, to the swords of the soldiery. Yet each of these was willing to +renounce his power. Seneca tried to surrender his wealth also to Nero, +and go into retirement; but neither achieved his purpose. When they +tottered, their very greatness dragged them down. What manner of thing, +then, is this power which keeps men in fear while they possess it--which +when thou art fain to keep, thou art not safe, and when thou desirest to +lay it aside thou canst not rid thyself of? Are friends any protection +who have been attached by fortune, not by virtue? Nay; him whom good +fortune has made a friend, ill fortune will make an enemy. And what +plague is more effectual to do hurt than a foe of one's own household?' + +FOOTNOTES: + +[G] The sword of Damocles. + + + +SONG V. + +SELF-MASTERY. + + + Who on power sets his aim, + First must his own spirit tame; + He must shun his neck to thrust + 'Neath th' unholy yoke of lust. + For, though India's far-off land + Bow before his wide command, + Utmost Thule homage pay-- + If he cannot drive away + Haunting care and black distress, + In his power, he's powerless. + + + +VI. + + +'Again, how misleading, how base, a thing ofttimes is glory! Well does +the tragic poet exclaim: + + '"Oh, fond Repute, how many a time and oft + Hast them raised high in pride the base-born churl!" + +For many have won a great name through the mistaken beliefs of the +multitude--and what can be imagined more shameful than that? Nay, they +who are praised falsely must needs themselves blush at their own +praises! And even when praise is won by merit, still, how does it add to +the good conscience of the wise man who measures his good not by popular +repute, but by the truth of inner conviction? And if at all it does seem +a fair thing to get this same renown spread abroad, it follows that any +failure so to spread it is held foul. But if, as I set forth but now, +there must needs be many tribes and peoples whom the fame of any single +man cannot reach, it follows that he whom thou esteemest glorious seems +all inglorious in a neighbouring quarter of the globe. As to popular +favour, I do not think it even worthy of mention in this place, since it +never cometh of judgment, and never lasteth steadily. + +'Then, again, who does not see how empty, how foolish, is the fame of +noble birth? Why, if the nobility is based on renown, the renown is +another's! For, truly, nobility seems to be a sort of reputation coming +from the merits of ancestors. But if it is the praise which brings +renown, of necessity it is they who are praised that are famous. +Wherefore, the fame of another clothes thee not with splendour if thou +hast none of thine own. So, if there is any excellence in nobility of +birth, methinks it is this alone--that it would seem to impose upon the +nobly born the obligation not to degenerate from the virtue of their +ancestors.' + + + +SONG VI. + +TRUE NOBILITY. + + + All men are of one kindred stock, though scattered far and wide; + For one is Father of us all--one doth for all provide. + He gave the sun his golden beams, the moon her silver horn; + He set mankind upon the earth, as stars the heavens adorn. + He shut a soul--a heaven-born soul--within the body's frame; + The noble origin he gave each mortal wight may claim. + Why boast ye, then, so loud of race and high ancestral line? + If ye behold your being's source, and God's supreme design, + None is degenerate, none base, unless by taint of sin + And cherished vice he foully stain his heavenly origin. + + + +VII. + + +'Then, what shall I say of the pleasures of the body? The lust thereof +is full of uneasiness; the sating, of repentance. What sicknesses, what +intolerable pains, are they wont to bring on the bodies of those who +enjoy them--the fruits of iniquity, as it were! Now, what sweetness the +stimulus of pleasure may have I do not know. But that the issues of +pleasure are painful everyone may understand who chooses to recall the +memory of his own fleshly lusts. Nay, if these can make happiness, there +is no reason why the beasts also should not be happy, since all their +efforts are eagerly set upon satisfying the bodily wants. I know, +indeed, that the sweetness of wife and children should be right comely, +yet only too true to nature is what was said of one--that he found in +his sons his tormentors. And how galling such a contingency would be, I +must needs put thee in mind, since thou hast never in any wise suffered +such experiences, nor art thou now under any uneasiness. In such a case, +I agree with my servant Euripides, who said that a man without children +was fortunate in his misfortune.'[H] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[H] Paley translates the lines in Euripides' 'Andromache': 'They [the +childless] are indeed spared from much pain and sorrow, but their +supposed happiness is after all but wretchedness.' Euripides' meaning is +therefore really just the reverse of that which Boethius makes it. See +Euripides, 'Andromache,' Il. 418-420. + + + +SONG VII. + +PLEASURE'S STING. + + + This is the way of Pleasure: + She stings them that despoil her; + And, like the wingéd toiler + Who's lost her honeyed treasure, + She flies, but leaves her smart + Deep-rankling in the heart. + + + + +VIII. + + +'It is beyond doubt, then, that these paths do not lead to happiness; +they cannot guide anyone to the promised goal. Now, I will very briefly +show what serious evils are involved in following them. Just consider. +Is it thy endeavour to heap up money? Why, thou must wrest it from its +present possessor! Art thou minded to put on the splendour of official +dignity? Thou must beg from those who have the giving of it; thou who +covetest to outvie others in honour must lower thyself to the humble +posture of petition. Dost thou long for power? Thou must face perils, +for thou wilt be at the mercy of thy subjects' plots. Is glory thy aim? +Thou art lured on through all manner of hardships, and there is an end +to thy peace of mind. Art fain to lead a life of pleasure? Yet who does +not scorn and contemn one who is the slave of the weakest and vilest of +things--the body? Again, on how slight and perishable a possession do +they rely who set before themselves bodily excellences! Can ye ever +surpass the elephant in bulk or the bull in strength? Can ye excel the +tiger in swiftness? Look upon the infinitude, the solidity, the swift +motion, of the heavens, and for once cease to admire things mean and +worthless. And yet the heavens are not so much to be admired on this +account as for the reason which guides them. Then, how transient is the +lustre of beauty! how soon gone!--more fleeting than the fading bloom of +spring flowers. And yet if, as Aristotle says, men should see with the +eyes of Lynceus, so that their sight might pierce through obstructions, +would not that body of Alcibiades, so gloriously fair in outward +seeming, appear altogether loathsome when all its inward parts lay open +to the view? Therefore, it is not thy own nature that makes thee seem +beautiful, but the weakness of the eyes that see thee. Yet prize as +unduly as ye will that body's excellences; so long as ye know that this +that ye admire, whatever its worth, can be dissolved away by the feeble +flame of a three days' fever. From all which considerations we may +conclude as a whole, that these things which cannot make good the +advantages they promise, which are never made perfect by the assemblage +of all good things--these neither lead as by-ways to happiness, nor +themselves make men completely happy.' + + + +SONG VIII. + +HUMAN FOLLY. + + + Alas! how wide astray + Doth Ignorance these wretched mortals lead + From Truth's own way! + For not on leafy stems + Do ye within the green wood look for gold, + Nor strip the vine for gems; + + Your nets ye do not spread + Upon the hill-tops, that the groaning board + With fish be furnishèd; + If ye are fain to chase + The bounding goat, ye sweep not in vain search + The ocean's ruffled face. + + The sea's far depths they know, + Each hidden nook, wherein the waves o'erwash + The pearl as white as snow; + Where lurks the Tyrian shell, + Where fish and prickly urchins do abound, + All this they know full well. + + But not to know or care + Where hidden lies the good all hearts desire-- + This blindness they can bear; + With gaze on earth low-bent, + They seek for that which reacheth far beyond + The starry firmament. + + What curse shall I call down + On hearts so dull? May they the race still run + For wealth and high renown! + And when with much ado + The false good they have grasped--ah, then too late!-- + May they discern the true! + + + +IX. + + +'This much may well suffice to set forth the form of false happiness; if +this is now clear to thine eyes, the next step is to show what true +happiness is.' + +'Indeed,' said I, 'I see clearly enough that neither is independence to +be found in wealth, nor power in sovereignty, nor reverence in +dignities, nor fame in glory, nor true joy in pleasures.' + +'Hast thou discerned also the causes why this is so?' + +'I seem to have some inkling, but I should like to learn more at large +from thee.' + +'Why, truly the reason is hard at hand. _That which is simple and +indivisible by nature human error separates_, and transforms from the +true and perfect to the false and imperfect. Dost thou imagine that +which lacketh nothing can want power?' + +'Certainly not.' + +'Right; for if there is any feebleness of strength in anything, in this +there must necessarily be need of external protection.' + +'That is so.' + +'Accordingly, the nature of independence and power is one and the same.' + +'It seems so.' + +'Well, but dost think that anything of such a nature as this can be +looked upon with contempt, or is it rather of all things most worthy of +veneration?' + +'Nay; there can be no doubt as to that.' + +'Let us, then, add reverence to independence and power, and conclude +these three to be one.' + +'We must if we will acknowledge the truth.' + +'Thinkest thou, then, this combination of qualities to be obscure and +without distinction, or rather famous in all renown? Just consider: can +that want renown which has been agreed to be lacking in nothing, to be +supreme in power, and right worthy of honour, for the reason that it +cannot bestow this upon itself, and so comes to appear somewhat poor in +esteem?' + +'I cannot but acknowledge that, being what it is, this union of +qualities is also right famous.' + +'It follows, then, that we must admit that renown is not different from +the other three.' + +'It does,' said I. + +'That, then, which needs nothing outside itself, which can accomplish +all things in its own strength, which enjoys fame and compels reverence, +must not this evidently be also fully crowned with joy?' + +'In sooth, I cannot conceive,' said I, 'how any sadness can find +entrance into such a state; wherefore I must needs acknowledge it full +of joy--at least, if our former conclusions are to hold.' + +'Then, for the same reasons, this also is necessary--that independence, +power, renown, reverence, and sweetness of delight, are different only +in name, but in substance differ no wise one from the other.' + +'It is,' said I. + +'This, then, which is one, and simple by nature, human perversity +separates, and, in trying to win a part of that which has no parts, +fails to attain not only that portion (since there are no portions), but +also the whole, to which it does not dream of aspiring.' + +'How so?' said I. + +'He who, to escape want, seeks riches, gives himself no concern about +power; he prefers a mean and low estate, and also denies himself many +pleasures dear to nature to avoid losing the money which he has gained. +But at this rate he does not even attain to independence--a weakling +void of strength, vexed by distresses, mean and despised, and buried in +obscurity. He, again, who thirsts alone for power squanders his wealth, +despises pleasure, and thinks fame and rank alike worthless without +power. But thou seest in how many ways his state also is defective. +Sometimes it happens that he lacks necessaries, that he is gnawed by +anxieties, and, since he cannot rid himself of these inconveniences, +even ceases to have that power which was his whole end and aim. In like +manner may we cast up the reckoning in case of rank, of glory, or of +pleasure. For since each one of these severally is identical with the +rest, whosoever seeks any one of them without the others does not even +lay hold of that one which he makes his aim.' + +'Well,' said I, 'what then?' + +'Suppose anyone desire to obtain them together, he does indeed wish for +happiness as a whole; but will he find it in these things which, as we +have proved, are unable to bestow what they promise?' + +'Nay; by no means,' said I. + +'Then, happiness must certainly not be sought in these things which +severally are believed to afford some one of the blessings most to be +desired.' + +'They must not, I admit. No conclusion could be more true.' + +'So, then, the form and the causes of false happiness are set before +thine eyes. Now turn thy gaze to the other side; there thou wilt +straightway see the true happiness I promised.' + +'Yea, indeed, 'tis plain to the blind.' said I. 'Thou didst point it out +even now in seeking to unfold the causes of the false. For, unless I am +mistaken, that is true and perfect happiness which crowns one with the +union of independence, power, reverence, renown, and joy. And to prove +to thee with how deep an insight I have listened--since all these are +the same--that which can truly bestow one of them I know to be without +doubt full and complete happiness.' + +'Happy art thou, my scholar, in this thy conviction; only one thing +shouldst thou add.' + +'What is that?' said I. + +'Is there aught, thinkest thou, amid these mortal and perishable things +which can produce a state such as this?' + +'Nay, surely not; and this thou hast so amply demonstrated that no word +more is needed.' + +'Well, then, these things seem to give to mortals shadows of the true +good, or some kind of imperfect good; but the true and perfect good they +cannot bestow.' + +'Even so,' said I. + +'Since, then, thou hast learnt what that true happiness is, and what men +falsely call happiness, it now remains that thou shouldst learn from +what source to seek this.' + +'Yes; to this I have long been eagerly looking forward.' + +'Well, since, as Plato maintains in the "Timæus," we ought even in the +most trivial matters to implore the Divine protection, what thinkest +thou should we now do in order to deserve to find the seat of that +highest good?' + +'We must invoke the Father of all things,' said I; 'for without this no +enterprise sets out from a right beginning.' + +'Thou sayest well,' said she; and forthwith lifted up her voice and +sang: + + + +SONG IX.[I] + +INVOCATION. + + + Maker of earth and sky, from age to age + Who rul'st the world by reason; at whose word + Time issues from Eternity's abyss: + To all that moves the source of movement, fixed + Thyself and moveless. Thee no cause impelled + Extrinsic this proportioned frame to shape + From shapeless matter; but, deep-set within + Thy inmost being, the form of perfect good, + From envy free; and Thou didst mould the whole + To that supernal pattern. Beauteous + The world in Thee thus imaged, being Thyself + + + Most beautiful. So Thou the work didst fashion + In that fair likeness, bidding it put on + Perfection through the exquisite perfectness + Of every part's contrivance. Thou dost bind + The elements in balanced harmony, + So that the hot and cold, the moist and dry, + Contend not; nor the pure fire leaping up + Escape, or weight of waters whelm the earth. + + Thou joinest and diffusest through the whole, + Linking accordantly its several parts, + A soul of threefold nature, moving all. + This, cleft in twain, and in two circles gathered, + Speeds in a path that on itself returns, + Encompassing mind's limits, and conforms + The heavens to her true semblance. Lesser souls + And lesser lives by a like ordinance + Thou sendest forth, each to its starry car + Affixing, and dost strew them far and wide + O'er earth and heaven. These by a law benign + Thou biddest turn again, and render back + To thee their fires. Oh, grant, almighty Father, + Grant us on reason's wing to soar aloft + To heaven's exalted height; grant us to see + The fount of good; grant us, the true light found, + To fix our steadfast eyes in vision clear + On Thee. Disperse the heavy mists of earth, + And shine in Thine own splendour. For Thou art + The true serenity and perfect rest + Of every pious soul--to see Thy face, + The end and the beginning--One the guide, + The traveller, the pathway, and the goal. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[I] The substance of this poem is taken from Plato's 'Timæus,' 29-42. +See Jowett, vol. iii., pp. 448-462 (third edition). + + + +X. + + +'Since now thou hast seen what is the form of the imperfect good, and +what the form of the perfect also, methinks I should next show in what +manner this perfection of felicity is built up. And here I conceive it +proper to inquire, first, whether any excellence, such as thou hast +lately defined, can exist in the nature of things, lest we be deceived +by an empty fiction of thought to which no true reality answers. But it +cannot be denied that such does exist, and is, as it were, the source of +all things good. For everything which is called imperfect is spoken of +as imperfect by reason of the privation of some perfection; so it comes +to pass that, whenever imperfection is found in any particular, there +must necessarily be a perfection in respect of that particular also. For +were there no such perfection, it is utterly inconceivable how that +so-called _im_perfection should come into existence. Nature does not +make a beginning with things mutilated and imperfect; she starts with +what is whole and perfect, and falls away later to these feeble and +inferior productions. So if there is, as we showed before, a happiness +of a frail and imperfect kind, it cannot be doubted but there is also a +happiness substantial and perfect.' + +'Most true is thy conclusion, and most sure,' said I. + +'Next to consider where the dwelling-place of this happiness may be. The +common belief of all mankind agrees that God, the supreme of all things, +is good. For since nothing can be imagined better than God, how can we +doubt Him to be good than whom there is nothing better? Now, reason +shows God to be good in such wise as to prove that in Him is perfect +good. For were it not so, He would not be supreme of all things; for +there would be something else more excellent, possessed of perfect good, +which would seem to have the advantage in priority and dignity, since it +has clearly appeared that all perfect things are prior to those less +complete. Wherefore, lest we fall into an infinite regression, we must +acknowledge the supreme God to be full of supreme and perfect good. But +we have determined that true happiness is the perfect good; therefore +true happiness must dwell in the supreme Deity.' + +'I accept thy reasonings,' said I; 'they cannot in any wise be +disputed.' + +'But, come, see how strictly and incontrovertibly thou mayst prove this +our assertion that the supreme Godhead hath fullest possession of the +highest good.' + +'In what way, pray?' said I. + +'Do not rashly suppose that He who is the Father of all things hath +received that highest good of which He is said to be possessed either +from some external source, or hath it as a natural endowment in such +sort that thou mightest consider the essence of the happiness possessed, +and of the God who possesses it, distinct and different. For if thou +deemest it received from without, thou mayst esteem that which gives +more excellent than that which has received. But Him we most worthily +acknowledge to be the most supremely excellent of all things. If, +however, it is in Him by nature, yet is logically distinct, the thought +is inconceivable, since we are speaking of God, who is supreme of all +things. Who was there to join these distinct essences? Finally, when one +thing is different from another, the things so conceived as distinct +cannot be identical. Therefore that which of its own nature is distinct +from the highest good is not itself the highest good--an impious thought +of Him than whom, 'tis plain, nothing can be more excellent. For +universally nothing can be better in nature than the source from which +it has come; therefore on most true grounds of reason would I conclude +that which is the source of all things to be in its own essence the +highest good.' + +'And most justly,' said I. + +'But the highest good has been admitted to be happiness.' + +'Yes.' + +'Then,' said she, 'it is necessary to acknowledge that God is very +happiness.' + +'Yes,' said I; 'I cannot gainsay my former admissions, and I see clearly +that this is a necessary inference therefrom.' + +'Reflect, also,' said she, 'whether the same conclusion is not further +confirmed by considering that there cannot be two supreme goods distinct +one from the other. For the goods which are different clearly cannot be +severally each what the other is: wherefore neither of the two can be +perfect, since to either the other is wanting; but since it is not +perfect, it cannot manifestly be the supreme good. By no means, then, +can goods which are supreme be different one from the other. But we have +concluded that both happiness and God are the supreme good; wherefore +that which is highest Divinity must also itself necessarily be supreme +happiness.' + +'No conclusion,' said I, 'could be truer to fact, nor more soundly +reasoned out, nor more worthy of God.' + +'Then, further,' said she, 'just as geometricians are wont to draw +inferences from their demonstrations to which they give the name +"deductions," so will I add here a sort of corollary. For since men +become happy by the acquisition of happiness, while happiness is very +Godship, it is manifest that they become happy by the acquisition of +Godship. But as by the acquisition of justice men become just, and wise +by the acquisition of wisdom, so by parity of reasoning by acquiring +Godship they must of necessity become gods. So every man who is happy is +a god; and though in nature God is One only, yet there is nothing to +hinder that very many should be gods by participation in that nature.' + +'A fair conclusion, and a precious,' said I, 'deduction or corollary, by +whichever name thou wilt call it.' + +'And yet,' said she, 'not one whit fairer than this which reason +persuades us to add.' + +'Why, what?' said I. + +'Why, seeing happiness has many particulars included under it, should +all these be regarded as forming one body of happiness, as it were, made +up of various parts, or is there some one of them which forms the full +essence of happiness, while all the rest are relative to this?' + +'I would thou wouldst unfold the whole matter to me at large.' + +'We judge happiness to be good, do we not?' + +'Yea, the supreme good.' + +'And this superlative applies to all; for this same happiness is +adjudged to be the completest independence, the highest power, +reverence, renown, and pleasure.' + +'What then?' + +'Are all these goods--independence, power, and the rest--to be deemed +members of happiness, as it were, or are they all relative to good as to +their summit and crown?' + +'I understand the problem, but I desire to hear how thou wouldst solve +it.' + +'Well, then, listen to the determination of the matter. Were all these +members composing happiness, they would differ severally one from the +other. For this is the nature of parts--that by their difference they +compose one body. All these, however, have been proved to be the same; +therefore they cannot possibly be members, otherwise happiness will seem +to be built up out of one member, which cannot be.' + +'There can be no doubt as to that,' said I; 'but I am impatient to hear +what remains.' + +'Why, it is manifest that all the others are relative to the good. For +the very reason why independence is sought is that it is judged good, +and so power also, because it is believed to be good. The same, too, may +be supposed of reverence, of renown, and of pleasant delight. Good, +then, is the sum and source of all desirable things. That which has not +in itself any good, either in reality or in semblance, can in no wise be +desired. Contrariwise, even things which by nature are not good are +desired as if they were truly good, if they seem to be so. Whereby it +comes to pass that goodness is rightly believed to be the sum and hinge +and cause of all things desirable. Now, that for the sake of which +anything is desired itself seems to be most wished for. For instance, if +anyone wishes to ride for the sake of health, he does not so much wish +for the exercise of riding as the benefit of his health. Since, then, +all things are sought for the sake of the good, it is not these so much +as good itself that is sought by all. But that on account of which all +other things are wished for was, we agreed, happiness; wherefore thus +also it appears that it is happiness alone which is sought. From all +which it is transparently clear that the essence of absolute good and of +happiness is one and the same.' + +'I cannot see how anyone can dissent from these conclusions.' + +'But we have also proved that God and true happiness are one and the +same.' + +'Yes,' said I. + +'Then we can safely conclude, also, that God's essence is seated in +absolute good, and nowhere else.' + + + +SONG X. + +THE TRUE LIGHT. + + + Hither come, all ye whose minds + Lust with rosy fetters binds-- + Lust to bondage hard compelling + Th' earthy souls that are his dwelling-- + Here shall be your labour's close; + Here your haven of repose. + Come, to your one refuge press; + Wide it stands to all distress! + + Not the glint of yellow gold + Down bright Hermus' current rolled; + Not the Tagus' precious sands, + Nor in far-off scorching lands + All the radiant gems that hide + Under Indus' storied tide-- + Emerald green and glistering white-- + Can illume our feeble sight; + But they rather leave the mind + In its native darkness blind. + For the fairest beams they shed + In earth's lowest depths were fed; + But the splendour that supplies + Strength and vigour to the skies, + And the universe controls, + Shunneth dark and ruined souls. + He who once hath seen _this_ light + Will not call the sunbeam bright. + + + +XI. + + +'I quite agree,' said I, 'truly all thy reasonings hold admirably +together.' + +Then said she: 'What value wouldst thou put upon the boon shouldst thou +come to the knowledge of the absolute good?' + +'Oh, an infinite,' said I, 'if only I were so blest as to learn to know +God also who is the good.' + +'Yet this will I make clear to thee on truest grounds of reason, if only +our recent conclusions stand fast.' + +'They will.' + +'Have we not shown that those things which most men desire are not true +and perfect good precisely for this cause--that they differ severally +one from another, and, seeing that one is wanting to another, they +cannot bestow full and absolute good; but that they become the true good +when they are gathered, as it were, into one form and agency, so that +that which is independence is likewise power, reverence, renown, and +pleasant delight, and unless they are all one and the same, they have no +claim to be counted among things desirable?' + +'Yes; this was clearly proved, and cannot in any wise be doubted.' + +'Now, when things are far from being good while they are different, but +become good as soon as they are one, is it not true that these become +good by acquiring unity?' + +'It seems so,' said I. + +'But dost not thou allow that all which is good is good by participation +in goodness?' + +'It is.' + +'Then, thou must on similar grounds admit that unity and goodness are +the same; for when the effects of things in their natural working differ +not, their essence is one and the same.' + +'There is no denying it.' + +'Now, dost thou know,' said she, 'that all which is abides and subsists +so long as it continues one, but so soon as it ceases to be one it +perishes and falls to pieces?' + +'In what way?' + +'Why, take animals, for example. When soul and body come together, and +continue in one, this is, we say, a living creature; but when this unity +is broken by the separation of these two, the creature dies, and is +clearly no longer living. The body also, while it remains in one form by +the joining together of its members, presents a human appearance; but if +the separation and dispersal of the parts break up the body's unity, it +ceases to be what it was. And if we extend our survey to all other +things, without doubt it will manifestly appear that each several thing +subsists while it is one, but when it ceases to be one perishes.' + +'Yes; when I consider further, I see it to be even as thou sayest.' + +'Well, is there aught,' said she, 'which, in so far as it acts +conformably to nature, abandons the wish for life, and desires to come +to death and corruption?' + +'Looking to living creatures, which have some faults of choice, I find +none that, without external compulsion, forego the will to live, and of +their own accord hasten to destruction. For every creature diligently +pursues the end of self-preservation, and shuns death and destruction! +As to herbs and trees, and inanimate things generally, I am altogether +in doubt what to think.' + +'And yet there is no possibility of question about this either, since +thou seest how herbs and trees grow in places suitable for them, where, +as far as their nature admits, they cannot quickly wither and die. Some +spring up in the plains, others in the mountains; some grow in marshes, +others cling to rocks; and others, again, find a fertile soil in the +barren sands; and if you try to transplant these elsewhere, they wither +away. Nature gives to each the soil that suits it, and uses her +diligence to prevent any of them dying, so long as it is possible for +them to continue alive. Why do they all draw their nourishment from +roots as from a mouth dipped into the earth, and distribute the strong +bark over the pith? Why are all the softer parts like the pith deeply +encased within, while the external parts have the strong texture of +wood, and outside of all is the bark to resist the weather's +inclemency, like a champion stout in endurance? Again, how great is +nature's diligence to secure universal propagation by multiplying seed! +Who does not know all these to be contrivances, not only for the present +maintenance of a species, but for its lasting continuance, generation +after generation, for ever? And do not also the things believed +inanimate on like grounds of reason seek each what is proper to itself? +Why do the flames shoot lightly upward, while the earth presses downward +with its weight, if it is not that these motions and situations are +suitable to their respective natures? Moreover, each several thing is +preserved by that which is agreeable to its nature, even as it is +destroyed by things inimical. Things solid like stones resist +disintegration by the close adhesion of their parts. Things fluid like +air and water yield easily to what divides them, but swiftly flow back +and mingle with those parts from which they have been severed, while +fire, again, refuses to be cut at all. And we are not now treating of +the voluntary motions of an intelligent soul, but of the drift of +nature. Even so is it that we digest our food without thinking about it, +and draw our breath unconsciously in sleep; nay, even in living +creatures the love of life cometh not of conscious will, but from the +principles of nature. For oftentimes in the stress of circumstances will +chooses the death which nature shrinks from; and contrarily, in spite of +natural appetite, will restrains that work of reproduction by which +alone the persistence of perishable creatures is maintained. So entirely +does this love of self come from drift of nature, not from animal +impulse. Providence has furnished things with this most cogent reason +for continuance: they must desire life, so long as it is naturally +possible for them to continue living. Wherefore in no way mayst thou +doubt but that things naturally aim at continuance of existence, and +shun destruction.' + +'I confess,' said I, 'that what I lately thought uncertain, I now +perceive to be indubitably clear.' + +'Now, that which seeks to subsist and continue desires to be one; for if +its oneness be gone, its very existence cannot continue.' + +'True,' said I. + +'All things, then, desire to be one.' + +'I agree.' + +'But we have proved that one is the very same thing as good.' + +'We have.' + +'All things, then, seek the good; indeed, you may express the fact by +defining good as that which all desire.' + +'Nothing could be more truly thought out. Either there is no single end +to which all things are relative, or else the end to which all things +universally hasten must be the highest good of all.' + +Then she: 'Exceedingly do I rejoice, dear pupil; thine eye is now fixed +on the very central mark of truth. Moreover, herein is revealed that of +which thou didst erstwhile profess thyself ignorant.' + +'What is that?' said I. + +'The end and aim of the whole universe. Surely it is that which is +desired of all; and, since we have concluded the good to be such, we +ought to acknowledge the end and aim of the whole universe to be "the +good."' + + + +SONG XI. + +REMINISCENCE.[J] + + + Who truth pursues, who from false ways + His heedful steps would keep, + By inward light must search within + In meditation deep; + All outward bent he must repress + His soul's true treasure to possess. + + Then all that error's mists obscured + Shall shine more clear than light, + This fleshly frame's oblivious weight + Hath quenched not reason quite; + The germs of truth still lie within, + Whence we by learning all may win. + + Else how could ye the answer due + Untaught to questions give, + Were't not that deep within the soul + Truth's secret sparks do live? + If Plato's teaching erreth not, + We learn but that we have forgot. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[J] The doctrine of Reminiscence--_i.e._, that all learning is really +recollection--is set forth at length by Plato in the 'Meno,' 81-86, and +the 'Phædo,' 72-76. See Jowett, vol. ii., pp. 40-47 and 213-218. + + + +XII. + + +Then said I: 'With all my heart I agree with Plato; indeed, this is now +the second time that these things have been brought back to my +mind--first I lost them through the clogging contact of the body; then +after through the stress of heavy grief.' + +Then she continued: 'If thou wilt reflect upon thy former admissions, it +will not be long before thou dost also recollect that of which erstwhile +thou didst confess thyself ignorant.' + +'What is that?' said I. + +'The principles of the world's government,' said she. + +'Yes; I remember my confession, and, although I now anticipate what thou +intendest, I have a desire to hear the argument plainly set forth.' + +'Awhile ago thou deemedst it beyond all doubt that God doth govern the +world.' + +'I do not think it doubtful now, nor shall I ever; and by what reasons +I am brought to this assurance I will briefly set forth. This world +could never have taken shape as a single system out of parts so diverse +and opposite were it not that there is One who joins together these so +diverse things. And when it had once come together, the very diversity +of natures would have dissevered it and torn it asunder in universal +discord were there not One who keeps together what He has joined. Nor +would the order of nature proceed so regularly, nor could its course +exhibit motions so fixed in respect of position, time, range, efficacy, +and character, unless there were One who, Himself abiding, disposed +these various vicissitudes of change. This power, whatsoever it be, +whereby they remain as they were created, and are kept in motion, I call +by the name which all recognise--God.' + +Then said she: 'Seeing that such is thy belief, it will cost me little +trouble, I think, to enable thee to win happiness, and return in safety +to thy own country. But let us give our attention to the task that we +have set before ourselves. Have we not counted independence in the +category of happiness, and agreed that God is absolute happiness?' + +'Truly, we have.' + +'Then, He will need no external assistance for the ruling of the world. +Otherwise, if He stands in need of aught, He will not possess complete +independence.' + +'That is necessarily so,' said I. + +'Then, by His own power alone He disposes all things.' + +'It cannot be denied.' + +'Now, God was proved to be absolute good.' + +'Yes; I remember.' + +'Then, He disposes all things by the agency of good, if it be true that +_He_ rules all things by His own power whom we have agreed to be good; +and He is, as it were, the rudder and helm by which the world's +mechanism is kept steady and in order.' + +'Heartily do I agree; and, indeed, I anticipated what thou wouldst say, +though it may be in feeble surmise only.' + +'I well believe it,' said she; 'for, as I think, thou now bringest to +the search eyes quicker in discerning truth; but what I shall say next +is no less plain and easy to see.' + +'What is it?' said I. + +'Why,' said she, 'since God is rightly believed to govern all things +with the rudder of goodness, and since all things do likewise, as I have +taught, haste towards good by the very aim of nature, can it be doubted +that His governance is willingly accepted, and that all submit +themselves to the sway of the Disposer as conformed and attempered to +His rule?' + +'Necessarily so,' said I; 'no rule would seem happy if it were a yoke +imposed on reluctant wills, and not the safe-keeping of obedient +subjects.' + +'There is nothing, then, which, while it follows nature, endeavours to +resist good.' + +'No; nothing.' + +'But if anything should, will it have the least success against Him whom +we rightly agreed to be supreme Lord of happiness?' + +'It would be utterly impotent.' + +'There is nothing, then, which has either the will or the power to +oppose this supreme good.' + +'No; I think not.' + +'So, then,' said she, 'it is the supreme good which rules in strength, +and graciously disposes all things.' + +Then said I: 'How delighted am I at thy reasonings, and the conclusion +to which thou hast brought them, but most of all at these very words +which thou usest! I am now at last ashamed of the folly that so sorely +vexed me.' + +'Thou hast heard the story of the giants assailing heaven; but a +beneficent strength disposed of them also, as they deserved. But shall +we submit our arguments to the shock of mutual collision?--it may be +from the impact some fair spark of truth may be struck out.' + +'If it be thy good pleasure,' said I. + +'No one can doubt that God is all-powerful.' + +'No one at all can question it who thinks consistently.' + +'Now, there is nothing which One who is all-powerful cannot do.' + +'Nothing.' + +'But can God do evil, then?' + +'Nay; by no means.' + +'Then, evil is nothing,' said she, 'since He to whom nothing is +impossible is unable to do evil.' + +'Art thou mocking me,' said I, 'weaving a labyrinth of tangled +arguments, now seeming to begin where thou didst end, and now to end +where thou didst begin, or dost thou build up some wondrous circle of +Divine simplicity? For, truly, a little before thou didst begin with +happiness, and say it was the supreme good, and didst declare it to be +seated in the supreme Godhead. God Himself, too, thou didst affirm to be +supreme good and all-complete happiness; and from this thou didst go on +to add, as by the way, the proof that no one would be happy unless he +were likewise God. Again, thou didst say that the very form of good was +the essence both of God and of happiness, and didst teach that the +absolute One was the absolute good which was sought by universal nature. +Thou didst maintain, also, that God rules the universe by the governance +of goodness, that all things obey Him willingly, and that evil has no +existence in nature. And all this thou didst unfold without the help of +assumptions from without, but by inherent and proper proofs, drawing +credence one from the other.' + +Then answered she: 'Far is it from me to mock thee; nay, by the blessing +of God, whom we lately addressed in prayer, we have achieved the most +important of all objects. For such is the form of the Divine essence, +that neither can it pass into things external, nor take up anything +external into itself; but, as Parmenides says of it, + + '"In body like to a sphere on all sides perfectly rounded," + +it rolls the restless orb of the universe, keeping itself motionless the +while. And if I have also employed reasonings not drawn from without, +but lying within the compass of our subject, there is no cause for thee +to marvel, since thou hast learnt on Plato's authority that words ought +to be akin to the matter of which they treat.' + + + +SONG XII. + +ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. + + + Blest he whose feet have stood + Beside the fount of good; + Blest he whose will could break + Earth's chains for wisdom's sake! + + The Thracian bard, 'tis said, + Mourned his dear consort dead; + To hear the plaintive strain + The woods moved in his train, + And the stream ceased to flow, + Held by so soft a woe; + The deer without dismay + Beside the lion lay; + The hound, by song subdued, + No more the hare pursued, + But the pang unassuaged + In his own bosom raged. + The music that could calm + All else brought him no balm. + Chiding the powers immortal, + He came unto Hell's portal; + There breathed all tender things + Upon his sounding strings, + Each rhapsody high-wrought + His goddess-mother taught-- + All he from grief could borrow + And love redoubling sorrow, + Till, as the echoes waken, + All Tænarus is shaken; + Whilst he to ruth persuades + The monarch of the shades + With dulcet prayer. Spell-bound, + The triple-headed hound + At sounds so strangely sweet + Falls crouching at his feet. + The dread Avengers, too, + That guilty minds pursue + With ever-haunting fears, + Are all dissolved in tears. + Ixion, on his wheel, + A respite brief doth feel; + For, lo! the wheel stands still. + And, while those sad notes thrill, + Thirst-maddened Tantalus + Listens, oblivious + Of the stream's mockery + And his long agony. + The vulture, too, doth spare + Some little while to tear + At Tityus' rent side, + Sated and pacified. + + At length the shadowy king, + His sorrows pitying, + 'He hath prevailèd!' cried; + 'We give him back his bride! + To him she shall belong, + As guerdon of his song. + One sole condition yet + Upon the boon is set: + Let him not turn his eyes + To view his hard-won prize, + Till they securely pass + The gates of Hell.' Alas! + What law can lovers move? + A higher law is love! + For Orpheus--woe is me!-- + On his Eurydice-- + Day's threshold all but won-- + Looked, lost, and was undone! + + Ye who the light pursue, + This story is for you, + Who seek to find a way + Unto the clearer day. + If on the darkness past + One backward look ye cast, + Your weak and wandering eyes + Have lost the matchless prize. + + + + +BOOK IV. + +GOOD AND ILL FORTUNE. + + + SUMMARY. + + CH. I. The mystery of the seeming moral confusion. Philosophy + engages to make this plain, and to fulfil her former promise to the + full.--CH. II. Accordingly, (a) she first expounds the paradox that + the good alone have power, the bad are altogether powerless.--CH. + III. (b) The righteous never lack their reward, nor the wicked + their punishment.--CH. IV. (c) The wicked are more unhappy when + they accomplish their desires than when they fail to attain them. + (d) Evil-doers are more fortunate when they expiate their crimes by + suffering punishment than when they escape unpunished. (e) The + wrong-doer is more wretched than he who suffers injury.--CH. V. + Boethius still cannot understand why the distribution of happiness + and misery to the righteous and the wicked seems the result of + chance. Philosophy replies that this only seems so because we do + not understand the principles of God's moral governance.--CH. VI. + The distinction of Fate and Providence. The apparent moral + confusion is due to our ignorance of the secret counsels of God's + providence. If we possessed the key, we should see how all things + are guided to good.--CH. VII. Thus all fortune is good fortune; for + it either rewards, disciplines, amends, or punishes, and so is + either useful or just. + + + + +BOOK IV. + + + +I. + + +Softly and sweetly Philosophy sang these verses to the end without +losing aught of the dignity of her expression or the seriousness of her +tones; then, forasmuch as I was as yet unable to forget my deeply-seated +sorrow, just as she was about to say something further, I broke in and +cried: 'O thou guide into the way of true light, all that thy voice hath +uttered from the beginning even unto now has manifestly seemed to me at +once divine contemplated in itself, and by the force of thy arguments +placed beyond the possibility of overthrow. Moreover, these truths have +not been altogether unfamiliar to me heretofore, though because of +indignation at my wrongs they have for a time been forgotten. But, lo! +herein is the very chiefest cause of my grief--that, while there exists +a good ruler of the universe, it is possible that evil should be at all, +still more that it should go unpunished. Surely thou must see how +deservedly this of itself provokes astonishment. But a yet greater +marvel follows: While wickedness reigns and flourishes, virtue not only +lacks its reward, but is even thrust down and trampled under the feet of +the wicked, and suffers punishment in the place of crime. That this +should happen under the rule of a God who knows all things and can do +all things, but wills only the good, cannot be sufficiently wondered at +nor sufficiently lamented.' + +Then said she: 'It would indeed be infinitely astounding, and of all +monstrous things most horrible, if, as thou esteemest, in the +well-ordered home of so great a householder, the base vessels should be +held in honour, the precious left to neglect. But it is not so. For if +we hold unshaken those conclusions which we lately reached, thou shall +learn that, by the will of Him of whose realm we are speaking, the good +are always strong, the bad always weak and impotent; that vices never go +unpunished, nor virtues unrewarded; that good fortune ever befalls the +good, and ill fortune the bad, and much more of the sort, which shall +hush thy murmurings, and stablish thee in the strong assurance of +conviction. And since by my late instructions thou hast seen the form of +happiness, hast learnt, too, the seat where it is to be found, all due +preliminaries being discharged, I will now show thee the road which will +lead thee home. Wings, also, will I fasten to thy mind wherewith thou +mayst soar aloft, that so, all disturbing doubts removed, thou mayst +return safe to thy country, under my guidance, in the path I will show +thee, and by the means which I furnish.' + + + +SONG I. + +THE SOUL'S FLIGHT. + + + Wings are mine; above the pole + Far aloft I soar. + Clothed with these, my nimble soul + Scorns earth's hated shore, + Cleaves the skies upon the wind, + Sees the clouds left far behind. + + Soon the glowing point she nears, + Where the heavens rotate, + Follows through the starry spheres + Phoebus' course, or straight + Takes for comrade 'mid the stars + Saturn cold or glittering Mars; + + Thus each circling orb explores + Through Night's stole that peers; + Then, when all are numbered, soars + Far beyond the spheres, + Mounting heaven's supremest height + To the very Fount of light. + + There the Sovereign of the world + His calm sway maintains; + As the globe is onward whirled + Guides the chariot reins, + And in splendour glittering + Reigns the universal King. + + Hither if thy wandering feet + Find at last a way, + Here thy long-lost home thou'lt greet: + 'Dear lost land,' thou'lt say, + 'Though from thee I've wandered wide, + Hence I came, here will abide.' + + Yet if ever thou art fain + Visitant to be + Of earth's gloomy night again, + Surely thou wilt see + Tyrants whom the nations fear + Dwell in hapless exile here. + + + +II. + + +Then said I: 'Verily, wondrous great are thy promises; yet I do not +doubt but thou canst make them good: only keep me not in suspense after +raising such hopes.' + +'Learn, then, first,' said she, 'how that power ever waits upon the +good, while the bad are left wholly destitute of strength.[K] Of these +truths the one proves the other; for since good and evil are contraries, +if it is made plain that good is power, the feebleness of evil is +clearly seen, and, conversely, if the frail nature of evil is made +manifest, the strength of good is thereby known. However, to win ampler +credence for my conclusion, I will pursue both paths, and draw +confirmation for my statements first in one way and then in the other. + +'The carrying out of any human action depends upon two things--to wit, +will and power; if either be wanting, nothing can be accomplished. For +if the will be lacking, no attempt at all is made to do what is not +willed; whereas if there be no power, the will is all in vain. And so, +if thou seest any man wishing to attain some end, yet utterly failing to +attain it, thou canst not doubt that he lacked the power of getting what +he wished for.' + +'Why, certainly not; there is no denying it.' + +'Canst thou, then, doubt that he whom thou seest to have accomplished +what he willed had also the power to accomplish it?' + +'Of course not.' + +'Then, in respect of what he can accomplish a man is to be reckoned +strong, in respect of what he cannot accomplish weak?' + +'Granted,' said I. + +'Then, dost thou remember that, by our former reasonings, it was +concluded that the whole aim of man's will, though the means of pursuit +vary, is set intently upon happiness?' + +'I do remember that this, too, was proved.' + +'Dost thou also call to mind how happiness is absolute good, and +therefore that, when happiness is sought, it is good which is in all +cases the object of desire?' + +'Nay, I do not so much call to mind as keep it fixed in my memory.' + +'Then, all men, good and bad alike, with one indistinguishable purpose +strive to reach good?' + +'Yes, that follows.' + +'But it is certain that by the attainment of good men become good?' + +'It is.' + +'Then, do the good attain their object?' + +'It seems so.' + +'But if the bad were to attain the good which is _their_ object, they +could not be bad?' + +'No.' + +'Then, since both seek good, but while the one sort attain it, the other +attain it not, is there any doubt that the good are endued with power, +while they who are bad are weak?' + +'If any doubt it, he is incapable of reflecting on the nature of things, +or the consequences involved in reasoning.' + +'Again, supposing there are two things to which the same function is +prescribed in the course of nature, and one of these successfully +accomplishes the function by natural action, the other is altogether +incapable of that natural action, instead of which, in a way other than +is agreeable to its nature, it--I will not say fulfils its function, but +feigns to fulfil it: which of these two would in thy view be the +stronger?' + +'I guess thy meaning, but I pray thee let me hear thee more at large.' + +'Walking is man's natural motion, is it not?' + +'Certainly.' + +'Thou dost not doubt, I suppose, that it is natural for the feet to +discharge this function?' + +'No; surely I do not.' + +'Now, if one man who is able to use his feet walks, and another to whom +the natural use of his feet is wanting tries to walk on his hands, +which of the two wouldst thou rightly esteem the stronger?' + +'Go on,' said I; 'no one can question but that he who has the natural +capacity has more strength than he who has it not.' + +'Now, the supreme good is set up as the end alike for the bad and for +the good; but the good seek it through the natural action of the +virtues, whereas the bad try to attain this same good through all manner +of concupiscence, which is not the natural way of attaining good. Or +dost thou think otherwise?' + +'Nay; rather, one further consequence is clear to me: for from my +admissions it must needs follow that the good have power, and the bad +are impotent.' + +'Thou anticipatest rightly, and that as physicians reckon is a sign that +nature is set working, and is throwing off the disease. But, since I see +thee so ready at understanding, I will heap proof on proof. Look how +manifest is the extremity of vicious men's weakness; they cannot even +reach that goal to which the aim of nature leads and almost constrains +them. What if they were left without this mighty, this well-nigh +irresistible help of nature's guidance! Consider also how momentous is +the powerlessness which incapacitates the wicked. Not light or +trivial[L] are the prizes which they contend for, but which they cannot +win or hold; nay, their failure concerns the very sum and crown of +things. Poor wretches! they fail to compass even that for which they +toil day and night. Herein also the strength of the good conspicuously +appears. For just as thou wouldst judge him to be the strongest walker +whose legs could carry him to a point beyond which no further advance +was possible, so must thou needs account him strong in power who so +attains the end of his desires that nothing further to be desired lies +beyond. Whence follows the obvious conclusion that they who are wicked +are seen likewise to be wholly destitute of strength. For why do they +forsake virtue and follow vice? Is it from ignorance of what is good? +Well, what is more weak and feeble than the blindness of ignorance? Do +they know what they ought to follow, but lust drives them aside out of +the way? If it be so, they are still frail by reason of their +incontinence, for they cannot fight against vice. Or do they knowingly +and wilfully forsake the good and turn aside to vice? Why, at this rate, +they not only cease to have power, but cease to be at all. For they who +forsake the common end of all things that are, they likewise also cease +to be at all. Now, to some it may seem strange that we should assert +that the bad, who form the greater part of mankind, do not exist. But +the fact is so. I do not, indeed, deny that they who are bad are bad, +but that they _are_ in an unqualified and absolute sense I deny. Just as +we call a corpse a dead man, but cannot call it simply "man," so I would +allow the vicious to be bad, but that they _are_ in an absolute sense I +cannot allow. That only _is_ which maintains its place and keeps its +nature; whatever falls away from this forsakes the existence which is +essential to its nature. "But," thou wilt say, "the bad have an +ability." Nor do I wish to deny it; only this ability of theirs comes +not from strength, but from impotence. For their ability is to do evil, +which would have had no efficacy at all if they could have continued in +the performance of good. So this ability of theirs proves them still +more plainly to have no power. For if, as we concluded just now, evil is +nothing, 'tis clear that the wicked can effect nothing, since they are +only able to do evil.' + +''Tis evident.' + +'And that thou mayst understand what is the precise force of this power, +we determined, did we not, awhile back, that nothing has more power than +supreme good?' + +'We did,' said I. + +'But that same highest good cannot do evil?' + +'Certainly not.' + +'Is there anyone, then, who thinks that men are able to do all things?' + +'None but a madman.' + +'Yet they are able to do evil?' + +'Ay; would they could not!' + +'Since, then, he who can do only good is omnipotent, while they who can +do evil also are not omnipotent, it is manifest that they who can do +evil have less power. There is this also: we have shown that all power +is to be reckoned among things desirable, and that all desirable things +are referred to good as to a kind of consummation of their nature. But +the ability to commit crime cannot be referred to the good; therefore it +is not a thing to be desired. And yet all power is desirable; it is +clear, then, that ability to do evil is not power. From all which +considerations appeareth the power of the good, and the indubitable +weakness of the bad, and it is clear that Plato's judgment was true; the +wise alone are able to do what they would, while the wicked follow their +own hearts' lust, but can _not_ accomplish what they would. For they go +on in their wilfulness fancying they will attain what they wish for in +the paths of delight; but they are very far from its attainment, since +shameful deeds lead not to happiness.' + +FOOTNOTES: + +[K] The paradoxes in this chapter and chapter iv. are taken from Plato's +'Gorgias.' See Jowett, vol. ii., pp. 348-366, and also pp. 400, 401 +('Gorgias,' 466-479, and 508, 509). + +[L] + +'No trivial game is here; the strife Is waged for Turnus' own dear +life.' + +_Conington_. + +See Virgil, Æneid,' xii. 764, 745: _cf_. 'Iliad,' xxii. 159-162. + + + +SONG II. + +THE BONDAGE OF PASSION. + + + When high-enthroned the monarch sits, resplendent in the pride + Of purple robes, while flashing steel guards him on every side; + When baleful terrors on his brow with frowning menace lower, + And Passion shakes his labouring breast--how dreadful seems his power! + But if the vesture of his state from such a one thou tear, + Thou'lt see what load of secret bonds this lord of earth doth wear. + Lust's poison rankles; o'er his mind rage sweeps in tempest rude; + Sorrow his spirit vexes sore, and empty hopes delude. + Then thou'lt confess: one hapless wretch, whom many lords oppress, + Does never what he would, but lives in thraldom's helplessness. + + + +III. + + +'Thou seest, then, in what foulness unrighteous deeds are sunk, with +what splendour righteousness shines. Whereby it is manifest that +goodness never lacks its reward, nor crime its punishment. For, verily, +in all manner of transactions that for the sake of which the particular +action is done may justly be accounted the reward of that action, even +as the wreath for the sake of which the race is run is the reward +offered for running. Now, we have shown happiness to be that very good +for the sake of which all things are done. Absolute good, then, is +offered as the common prize, as it were, of all human actions. But, +truly, this is a reward from which it is impossible to separate the good +man, for one who is without good cannot properly be called good at all; +wherefore righteous dealing never misses its reward. Rage the wicked, +then, never so violently, the crown shall not fall from the head of the +wise, nor wither. Verily, other men's unrighteousness cannot pluck from +righteous souls their proper glory. Were the reward in which the soul of +the righteous delighteth received from without, then might it be taken +away by him who gave it, or some other; but since it is conferred by his +own righteousness, then only will he lose his prize when he has ceased +to be righteous. Lastly, since every prize is desired because it is +believed to be good, who can account him who possesses good to be +without reward? And what a prize, the fairest and grandest of all! For +remember the corollary which I chiefly insisted on a little while back, +and reason thus: Since absolute good is happiness, 'tis clear that all +the good must be happy for the very reason that they are good. But it +was agreed that those who are happy are gods. So, then, the prize of the +good is one which no time may impair, no man's power lessen, no man's +unrighteousness tarnish; 'tis very Godship. And this being so, the wise +man cannot doubt that punishment is inseparable from the bad. For since +good and bad, and likewise reward and punishment, are contraries, it +necessarily follows that, corresponding to all that we see accrue as +reward of the good, there is some penalty attached as punishment of +evil. As, then, righteousness itself is the reward of the righteous, so +wickedness itself is the punishment of the unrighteous. Now, no one who +is visited with punishment doubts that he is visited with evil. +Accordingly, if they were but willing to weigh their own case, could +_they_ think themselves free from punishment whom wickedness, worst of +all evils, has not only touched, but deeply tainted? + +'See, also, from the opposite standpoint--the standpoint of the +good--what a penalty attends upon the wicked. Thou didst learn a little +since that whatever is is one, and that unity itself is good. +Accordingly, by this way of reckoning, whatever falls away from goodness +ceases to be; whence it comes to pass that the bad cease to be what they +were, while only the outward aspect is still left to show they have been +men. Wherefore, by their perversion to badness, they have lost their +true human nature. Further, since righteousness alone can raise men +above the level of humanity, it must needs be that unrighteousness +degrades below man's level those whom it has cast out of man's estate. +It results, then, that thou canst not consider him human whom thou seest +transformed by vice. The violent despoiler of other men's goods, +enflamed with covetousness, surely resembles a wolf. A bold and restless +spirit, ever wrangling in law-courts, is like some yelping cur. The +secret schemer, taking pleasure in fraud and stealth, is own brother to +the fox. The passionate man, phrenzied with rage, we might believe to be +animated with the soul of a lion. The coward and runaway, afraid where +no fear is, may be likened to the timid deer. He who is sunk in +ignorance and stupidity lives like a dull ass. He who is light and +inconstant, never holding long to one thing, is for all the world like a +bird. He who wallows in foul and unclean lusts is sunk in the pleasures +of a filthy hog. So it comes to pass that he who by forsaking +righteousness ceases to be a man cannot pass into a Godlike condition, +but actually turns into a brute beast.' + + + +SONG III. + +CIRCE'S CUP. + + + Th' Ithacan discreet, + And all his storm-tossed fleet, + Far o'er the ocean wave + The winds of heaven drave-- + Drave to the mystic isle, + Where dwelleth in her guile + That fair and faithless one, + The daughter of the Sun. + There for the stranger crew + With cunning spells she knew + To mix th' enchanted cup. + For whoso drinks it up, + Must suffer hideous change + To monstrous shapes and strange. + One like a boar appears; + This his huge form uprears, + Mighty in bulk and limb-- + An Afric lion--grim + With claw and fang. Confessed + A wolf, this, sore distressed + When he would weep, doth howl; + And, strangely tame, these prowl + The Indian tiger's mates. + + And though in such sore straits, + The pity of the god + Who bears the mystic rod + Had power the chieftain brave + From her fell arts to save; + His comrades, unrestrained, + The fatal goblet drained. + All now with low-bent head, + Like swine, on acorns fed; + Man's speech and form were reft, + No human feature left; + But steadfast still, the mind, + Unaltered, unresigned, + The monstrous change bewailed. + + How little, then, availed + The potencies of ill! + These herbs, this baneful skill, + May change each outward part, + But cannot touch the heart. + In its true home, deep-set, + Man's spirit liveth yet. + _Those_ poisons are more fell, + More potent to expel + Man from his high estate, + Which subtly penetrate, + And leave the body whole, + But deep infect the soul. + + + +IV. + + +Then said I: 'This is very true. I see that the vicious, though they +keep the outward form of man, are rightly said to be changed into beasts +in respect of their spiritual nature; but, inasmuch as their cruel and +polluted minds vent their rage in the destruction of the good, I would +this license were not permitted to them.' + +'Nor is it,' said she, 'as shall be shown in the fitting place. Yet if +that license which thou believest to be permitted to them were taken +away, the punishment of the wicked would be in great part remitted. For +verily, incredible as it may seem to some, it needs must be that the bad +are more unfortunate when they have accomplished their desires than if +they are unable to get them fulfilled. If it is wretched to will evil, +to have been able to accomplish evil is more wretched; for without the +power the wretched will would fail of effect. Accordingly, those whom +thou seest to will, to be able to accomplish, and to accomplish crime, +must needs be the victims of a threefold wretchedness, since each one of +these states has its own measure of wretchedness.' + +'Yes,' said I; 'yet I earnestly wish they might speedily be quit of this +misfortune by losing the ability to accomplish crime.' + +'They will lose it,' said she, 'sooner than perchance thou wishest, or +they themselves think likely; since, verily, within the narrow bounds of +our brief life there is nothing so late in coming that anyone, least of +all an immortal spirit, should deem it long to wait for. Their great +expectations, the lofty fabric of their crimes, is oft overthrown by a +sudden and unlooked-for ending, and this but sets a limit to their +misery. For if wickedness makes men wretched, he is necessarily more +wretched who is wicked for a longer time; and were it not that death, at +all events, puts an end to the evil doings of the wicked, I should +account them wretched to the last degree. Indeed, if we have formed true +conclusions about the ill fortune of wickedness, that wretchedness is +plainly infinite which is doomed to be eternal.' + +Then said I: 'A wonderful inference, and difficult to grant; but I see +that it agrees entirely with our previous conclusions.' + +'Thou art right,' said she; 'but if anyone finds it hard to admit the +conclusion, he ought in fairness either to prove some falsity in the +premises, or to show that the combination of propositions does not +adequately enforce the necessity of the conclusion; otherwise, if the +premises be granted, nothing whatever can be said against the inference +of the conclusion. And here is another statement which seems not less +wonderful, but on the premises assumed is equally necessary.' + +'What is that?' + +'The wicked are happier in undergoing punishment than if no penalty of +justice chasten them. And I am not now meaning what might occur to +anyone--that bad character is amended by retribution, and is brought +into the right path by the terror of punishment, or that it serves as an +example to warn others to avoid transgression; but I believe that in +another way the wicked are more unfortunate when they go unpunished, +even though no account be taken of amendment, and no regard be paid to +example.' + +'Why, what other way is there beside these?' said I. + +Then said she: 'Have we not agreed that the good are happy, and the evil +wretched?' + +'Yes,' said I. + +'Now, if,' said she, 'to one in affliction there be given along with his +misery some good thing, is he not happier than one whose misery is +misery pure and simple without admixture of any good?' + +'It would seem so.' + +'But if to one thus wretched, one destitute of all good, some further +evil be added besides those which make him wretched, is he not to be +judged far more unhappy than he whose ill fortune is alleviated by some +share of good?' + +'It could scarcely be otherwise.' + +'Surely, then, the wicked, when they are punished, have a good thing +added to them--to wit, the punishment which by the law of justice is +good; and likewise, when they escape punishment, a new evil attaches to +them in that very freedom from punishment which thou hast rightly +acknowledged to be an evil in the case of the unrighteous.' + +'I cannot deny it.' + +'Then, the wicked are far more unhappy when indulged with an unjust +freedom from punishment than when punished by a just retribution. Now, +it is manifest that it is just for the wicked to be punished, and for +them to escape unpunished is unjust.' + +'Why, who would venture to deny it?' + +'This, too, no one can possibly deny--that all which is just is good, +and, conversely, all which is unjust is bad.' + +Then I answered: 'These inferences do indeed follow from what we lately +concluded; but tell me,' said I, 'dost thou take no account of the +punishment of the soul after the death of the body?' + +'Nay, truly,' said she, 'great are these penalties, some of them +inflicted, I imagine, in the severity of retribution, others in the +mercy of purification. But it is not my present purpose to speak of +these. So far, my aim hath been to make thee recognise that the power of +the bad which shocked thee so exceedingly is no power; to make thee see +that those of whose freedom from punishment thou didst complain are +never without the proper penalties of their unrighteousness; to teach +thee that the license which thou prayedst might soon come to an end is +not long-enduring; that it would be more unhappy if it lasted longer, +most unhappy of all if it lasted for ever; thereafter that the +unrighteous are more wretched if unjustly let go without punishment than +if punished by a just retribution--from which point of view it follows +that the wicked are afflicted with more severe penalties just when they +are supposed to escape punishment.' + +Then said I: 'While I follow thy reasonings, I am deeply impressed with +their truth; but if I turn to the common convictions of men, I find few +who will even listen to such arguments, let alone admit them to be +credible.' + +'True,' said she; 'they cannot lift eyes accustomed to darkness to the +light of clear truth, and are like those birds whose vision night +illumines and day blinds; for while they regard, not the order of the +universe, but their own dispositions of mind, they think the license to +commit crime, and the escape from punishment, to be fortunate. But mark +the ordinance of eternal law. Hast thou fashioned thy soul to the +likeness of the better, thou hast no need of a judge to award the +prize--by thine own act hast thou raised thyself in the scale of +excellence; hast thou perverted thy affections to baser things, look not +for punishment from one without thee--thine own act hath degraded thee, +and thrust thee down. Even so, if alternately thou turn thy gaze upon +the vile earth and upon the heavens, though all without thee stand +still, by the mere laws of sight thou seemest now sunk in the mire, now +soaring among the stars. But the common herd regards not these things. +What, then? Shall we go over to those whom we have shown to be like +brute beasts? Why, suppose, now, one who had quite lost his sight +should likewise forget that he had ever possessed the faculty of vision, +and should imagine that nothing was wanting in him to human perfection, +should we deem those who saw as well as ever blind? Why, they will not +even assent to this, either--that they who do wrong are more wretched +than those who suffer wrong, though the proof of this rests on grounds +of reason no less strong.' + +'Let me hear these same reasons,' said I. + +'Wouldst thou deny that every wicked man deserves punishment?' + +'I would not, certainly.' + +'And that those who are wicked are unhappy is clear in manifold ways?' + +'Yes,' I replied. + +'Thou dost not doubt, then, that those who deserve punishment are +wretched?' + +'Agreed,' said I. + +'So, then, if thou wert sitting in judgment, on whom wouldst thou decree +the infliction of punishment--on him who had done the wrong, or on him +who had suffered it?' + +'Without doubt, I would compensate the sufferer at the cost of the doer +of the wrong.' + +'Then, the injurer would seem more wretched than the injured?' + +'Yes; it follows. And so for this and other reasons resting on the same +ground, inasmuch as baseness of its own nature makes men wretched, it is +plain that a wrong involves the misery of the doer, not of the +sufferer.' + +'And yet,' says she, 'the practice of the law-courts is just the +opposite: advocates try to arouse the commiseration of the judges for +those who have endured some grievous and cruel wrong; whereas pity is +rather due to the criminal, who ought to be brought to the judgment-seat +by his accusers in a spirit not of anger, but of compassion and +kindness, as a sick man to the physician, to have the ulcer of his fault +cut away by punishment. Whereby the business of the advocate would +either wholly come to a standstill, or, did men prefer to make it +serviceable to mankind, would be restricted to the practice of +accusation. The wicked themselves also, if through some chink or cranny +they were permitted to behold the virtue they have forsaken, and were to +see that by the pains of punishment they would rid themselves of the +uncleanness of their vices, and win in exchange the recompense of +righteousness, they would no longer think these sufferings pains; they +would refuse the help of advocates, and would commit themselves wholly +into the hands of their accusers and judges. Whence it comes to pass +that for the wise no place is left for hatred; only the most foolish +would hate the good, and to hate the bad is unreasonable. For if vicious +propensity is, as it were, a disease of the soul like bodily sickness, +even as we account the sick in body by no means deserving of hate, but +rather of pity, so, and much more, should they be pitied whose minds are +assailed by wickedness, which is more frightful than any sickness.' + + + +SONG IV. + +THE UNREASONABLENESS OF HATRED. + + + Why all this furious strife? Oh, why + With rash and wilful hand provoke death's destined day? + If death ye seek--lo! Death is nigh, + Not of their master's will those coursers swift delay! + + The wild beasts vent on man their rage, + Yet 'gainst their brothers' lives men point the murderous steel; + Unjust and cruel wars they wage, + And haste with flying darts the death to meet or deal. + + No right nor reason can they show; + 'Tis but because their lands and laws are not the same. + Wouldst _thou_ give each his due; then know + Thy love the good must have, the bad thy pity claim. + + + +V. + + +On this I said: 'I see how there is a happiness and misery founded on +the actual deserts of the righteous and the wicked. Nevertheless, I +wonder in myself whether there is not some good and evil in fortune as +the vulgar understand it. Surely, no sensible man would rather be +exiled, poor and disgraced, than dwell prosperously in his own country, +powerful, wealthy, and high in honour. Indeed, the work of wisdom is +more clear and manifest in its operation when the happiness of rulers is +somehow passed on to the people around them, especially considering that +the prison, the law, and the other pains of legal punishment are +properly due only to mischievous citizens on whose account they were +originally instituted. Accordingly, I do exceedingly marvel why all this +is completely reversed--why the good are harassed with the penalties due +to crime, and the bad carry off the rewards of virtue; and I long to +hear from thee what reason may be found for so unjust a state of +disorder. For assuredly I should wonder less if I could believe that all +things are the confused result of chance. But now my belief in God's +governance doth add amazement to amazement. For, seeing that He +sometimes assigns fair fortune to the good and harsh fortune to the bad, +and then again deals harshly with the good, and grants to the bad their +hearts' desire, how does this differ from chance, unless some reason is +discovered for it all?' + +'Nay; it is not wonderful,' said she, 'if all should be thought random +and confused when the principle of order is not known. And though thou +knowest not the causes on which this great system depends, yet forasmuch +as a good ruler governs the world, doubt not for thy part that all is +rightly done.' + + + +SONG V. + +WONDER AND IGNORANCE. + + + Who knoweth not how near the pole + Bootes' course doth go, + Must marvel by what heavenly law + He moves his Wain so slow; + Why late he plunges 'neath the main, + And swiftly lights his beams again. + + When the full-orbèd moon grows pale + In the mid course of night, + And suddenly the stars shine forth + That languished in her light, + Th' astonied nations stand at gaze, + And beat the air in wild amaze.[M] + + None marvels why upon the shore + The storm-lashed breakers beat, + Nor why the frost-bound glaciers melt + At summer's fervent heat; + For here the cause seems plain and clear, + Only what's dark and hid we fear. + + Weak-minded folly magnifies + All that is rare and strange, + And the dull herd's o'erwhelmed with awe + At unexpected change. + But wonder leaves enlightened minds, + When ignorance no longer blinds. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[M] To frighten away the monster swallowing the moon. The superstition +was once common. See Tylor's 'Primitive Culture,' pp. 296-302. + + + +VI. + + +'True,' said I; 'but, since it is thy office to unfold the hidden cause +of things, and explain principles veiled in darkness, inform me, I pray +thee, of thine own conclusions in this matter, since the marvel of it is +what more than aught else disturbs my mind.' + +A smile played one moment upon her lips as she replied: 'Thou callest me +to the greatest of all subjects of inquiry, a task for which the most +exhaustive treatment barely suffices. Such is its nature that, as fast +as one doubt is cut away, innumerable others spring up like Hydra's +heads, nor could we set any limit to their renewal did we not apply the +mind's living fire to suppress them. For there come within its scope the +questions of the essential simplicity of providence, of the order of +fate, of unforeseen chance, of the Divine knowledge and predestination, +and of the freedom of the will. How heavy is the weight of all this +thou canst judge for thyself. But, inasmuch as to know these things also +is part of the treatment of thy malady, we will try to give them some +consideration, despite the restrictions of the narrow limits of our +time. Moreover, thou must for a time dispense with the pleasures of +music and song, if so be that thou findest any delight therein, whilst I +weave together the connected train of reasons in proper order.' + +'As thou wilt,' said I. + +Then, as if making a new beginning, she thus discoursed: 'The coming +into being of all things, the whole course of development in things that +change, every sort of thing that moves in any wise, receives its due +cause, order, and form from the steadfastness of the Divine mind. This +mind, calm in the citadel of its own essential simplicity, has decreed +that the method of its rule shall be manifold. Viewed in the very purity +of the Divine intelligence, this method is called _providence_; but +viewed in regard to those things which it moves and disposes, it is +what the ancients called _fate_. That these two are different will +easily be clear to anyone who passes in review their respective +efficacies. Providence is the Divine reason itself, seated in the +Supreme Being, which disposes all things; fate is the disposition +inherent in all things which move, through which providence joins all +things in their proper order. Providence embraces all things, however +different, however infinite; fate sets in motion separately individual +things, and assigns to them severally their position, form, and time. + +'So the unfolding of this temporal order unified into the foreview of +the Divine mind is providence, while the same unity broken up and +unfolded in time is fate. And although these are different, yet is there +a dependence between them; for the order of destiny issues from the +essential simplicity of providence. For as the artificer, forming in his +mind beforehand the idea of the thing to be made, carries out his +design, and develops from moment to moment what he had before seen in a +single instant as a whole, so God in His providence ordains all things +as parts of a single unchanging whole, but carries out these very +ordinances by fate in a time of manifold unity. So whether fate is +accomplished by Divine spirits as the ministers of providence, or by a +soul, or by the service of all nature--whether by the celestial motion +of the stars, by the efficacy of angels, or by the many-sided cunning of +demons--whether by all or by some of these the destined series is woven, +this, at least, is manifest: that providence is the fixed and simple +form of destined events, fate their shifting series in order of time, as +by the disposal of the Divine simplicity they are to take place. Whereby +it is that all things which are under fate are subjected also to +providence, on which fate itself is dependent; whereas certain things +which are set under providence are above the chain of fate--viz., those +things which by their nearness to the primal Divinity are steadfastly +fixed, and lie outside the order of fate's movements. For as the +innermost of several circles revolving round the same centre approaches +the simplicity of the midmost point, and is, as it were, a pivot round +which the exterior circles turn, while the outermost, whirled in ampler +orbit, takes in a wider and wider sweep of space in proportion to its +departure from the indivisible unity of the centre--while, further, +whatever joins and allies itself to the centre is narrowed to a like +simplicity, and no longer expands vaguely into space--even so whatsoever +departs widely from primal mind is involved more deeply in the meshes of +fate, and things are free from fate in proportion as they seek to come +nearer to that central pivot; while if aught cleaves close to supreme +mind in its absolute fixity, this, too, being free from movement, rises +above fate's necessity. Therefore, as is reasoning to pure intelligence, +as that which is generated to that which is, time to eternity, a circle +to its centre, so is the shifting series of fate to the steadfastness +and simplicity of providence. + +'It is this causal series which moves heaven and the stars, attempers +the elements to mutual accord, and again in turn transforms them into +new combinations; _this_ which renews the series of all things that are +born and die through like successions of germ and birth; it is _its_ +operation which binds the destinies of men by an indissoluble nexus of +causality, and, since it issues in the beginning from unalterable +providence, these destinies also must of necessity be immutable. +Accordingly, the world is ruled for the best if this unity abiding in +the Divine mind puts forth an inflexible order of causes. And this +order, by its intrinsic immutability, restricts things mutable which +otherwise would ebb and flow at random. And so it happens that, although +to you, who are not altogether capable of understanding this order, all +things seem confused and disordered, nevertheless there is everywhere an +appointed limit which guides all things to good. Verily, nothing can be +done for the sake of evil even by the wicked themselves; for, as we +abundantly proved, they seek good, but are drawn out of the way by +perverse error; far less can this order which sets out from the supreme +centre of good turn aside anywhither from the way in which it began. + +'"Yet what confusion," thou wilt say, "can be more unrighteous than that +prosperity and adversity should indifferently befall the good, what +they like and what they loathe come alternately to the bad!" Yes; but +have men in real life such soundness of mind that their judgments of +righteousness and wickedness must necessarily correspond with facts? +Why, on this very point their verdicts conflict, and those whom some +deem worthy of reward, others deem worthy of punishment. Yet granted +there were one who could rightly distinguish the good and bad, yet would +he be able to look into the soul's inmost constitution, as it were, if +we may borrow an expression used of the body? The marvel here is not +unlike that which astonishes one who does not know why in health sweet +things suit some constitutions, and bitter others, or why some sick men +are best alleviated by mild remedies, others by severe. But the +physician who distinguishes the precise conditions and characteristics +of health and sickness does not marvel. Now, the health of the soul is +nothing but righteousness, and vice is its sickness. God, the guide and +physician of the mind, it is who preserves the good and banishes the +bad. And He looks forth from the lofty watch-tower of His providence, +perceives what is suited to each, and assigns what He knows to be +suitable. + +'This, then, is what that extraordinary mystery of the order of destiny +comes to--that something is done by one who knows, whereat the ignorant +are astonished. But let us consider a few instances whereby appears what +is the competency of human reason to fathom the Divine unsearchableness. +Here is one whom thou deemest the perfection of justice and scrupulous +integrity; to all-knowing Providence it seems far otherwise. We all know +our Lucan's admonition that it was the winning cause that found favour +with the gods, the beaten cause with Cato. So, shouldst thou see +anything in this world happening differently from thy expectation, doubt +not but events are rightly ordered; it is in thy judgment that there is +perverse confusion. + +'Grant, however, there be somewhere found one of so happy a character +that God and man alike agree in their judgments about him; yet is he +somewhat infirm in strength of mind. It may be, if he fall into +adversity, he will cease to practise that innocency which has failed to +secure his fortune. Therefore, God's wise dispensation spares him whom +adversity might make worse, will not let him suffer who is ill fitted +for endurance. Another there is perfect in all virtue, so holy and nigh +to God that providence judges it unlawful that aught untoward should +befall him; nay, doth not even permit him to be afflicted with bodily +disease. As one more excellent than I[N] hath said: + + '"The very body of the holy saint + Is built of purest ether." + +Often it happens that the governance is given to the good that a +restraint may be put upon superfluity of wickedness. To others +providence assigns some mixed lot suited to their spiritual nature; some +it will plague lest they grow rank through long prosperity; others it +will suffer to be vexed with sore afflictions to confirm their virtues +by the exercise and practice of patience. Some fear overmuch what they +have strength to bear; others despise overmuch that to which their +strength is unequal. All these it brings to the test of their true self +through misfortune. Some also have bought a name revered to future ages +at the price of a glorious death; some by invincible constancy under +their sufferings have afforded an example to others that virtue cannot +be overcome by calamity--all which things, without doubt, come to pass +rightly and in due order, and to the benefit of those to whom they are +seen to happen. + +'As to the other side of the marvel, that the bad now meet with +affliction, now get their hearts' desire, this, too, springs from the +same causes. As to the afflictions, of course no one marvels, because +all hold the wicked to be ill deserving. The truth is, their punishments +both frighten others from crime, and amend those on whom they are +inflicted; while their prosperity is a powerful sermon to the good, what +judgments they ought to pass on good fortune of this kind, which often +attends the wicked so assiduously. + +'There is another object which may, I believe, be attained in such +cases: there is one, perhaps, whose nature is so reckless and violent +that poverty would drive him more desperately into crime. _His_ disorder +providence relieves by allowing him to amass money. Such a one, in the +uneasiness of a conscience stained with guilt, while he contrasts his +character with his fortune, perchance grows alarmed lest he should come +to mourn the loss of that whose possession is so pleasant to him. He +will, then, reform his ways, and through the fear of losing his fortune +he forsakes his iniquity. Some, through a prosperity unworthily borne, +have been hurled headlong to ruin; to some the power of the sword has +been committed, to the end that the good may be tried by discipline, and +the bad punished. For while there can be no peace between the righteous +and the wicked, neither can the wicked agree among themselves. How +should they, when each is at variance with himself, because his vices +rend his conscience, and ofttimes they do things which, when they are +done, they judge ought not to have been done. Hence it is that this +supreme providence brings to pass this notable marvel--that the bad make +the bad good. For some, when they see the injustice which they +themselves suffer at the hands of evil-doers, are inflamed with +detestation of the offenders, and, in the endeavour to be unlike those +whom they hate, return to the ways of virtue. It is the Divine power +alone to which things evil are also good, in that, by putting them to +suitable use, it bringeth them in the end to some good issue. For order +in some way or other embraceth all things, so that even that which has +departed from the appointed laws of the order, nevertheless falleth +within _an_ order, though _another_ order, that nothing in the realm of +providence may be left to haphazard. But + + '"Hard were the task, as a god, to recount all, nothing omitting." + +Nor, truly, is it lawful for man to compass in thought all the mechanism +of the Divine work, or set it forth in speech. Let us be content to +have apprehended this only--that God, the creator of universal nature, +likewise disposeth all things, and guides them to good; and while He +studies to preserve in likeness to Himself all that He has created, He +banishes all evil from the borders of His commonweal through the links +of fatal necessity. Whereby it comes to pass that, if thou look to +disposing providence, thou wilt nowhere find the evils which are +believed so to abound on earth. + +'But I see thou hast long been burdened with the weight of the subject, +and fatigued with the prolixity of the argument, and now lookest for +some refreshment of sweet poesy. Listen, then, and may the draught so +restore thee that thou wilt bend thy mind more resolutely to what +remains.' + +FOOTNOTES: + +[N] Parmenides. Boethius seems to forget for the moment that Philosophy +is speaking. + + + +SONG VI. + +THE UNIVERSAL AIM. + + + Wouldst thou with unclouded mind + View the laws by God designed, + Lift thy steadfast gaze on high + To the starry canopy; + See in rightful league of love + All the constellations move. + Fiery Sol, in full career, + Ne'er obstructs cold Phoebe's sphere; + When the Bear, at heaven's height, + Wheels his coursers' rapid flight, + Though he sees the starry train + Sinking in the western main, + He repines not, nor desires + In the flood to quench his fires. + + In true sequence, as decreed, + Daily morn and eve succeed; + Vesper brings the shades of night, + Lucifer the morning light. + Love, in alternation due, + Still the cycle doth renew, + And discordant strife is driven + From the starry realm of heaven. + Thus, in wondrous amity, + Warring elements agree; + Hot and cold, and moist and dry, + Lay their ancient quarrel by; + High the flickering flame ascends, + Downward earth for ever tends. + + So the year in spring's mild hours + Loads the air with scent of flowers; + Summer paints the golden grain; + Then, when autumn comes again, + Bright with fruit the orchards glow; + Winter brings the rain and snow. + Thus the seasons' fixed progression, + Tempered in a due succession, + Nourishes and brings to birth + All that lives and breathes on earth. + Then, soon run life's little day, + All it brought it takes away. + + But One sits and guides the reins, + He who made and all sustains; + King and Lord and Fountain-head, + Judge most holy, Law most dread; + Now impels and now keeps back, + Holds each waverer in the track. + Else, were once the power withheld + That the circling spheres compelled + In their orbits to revolve, + This world's order would dissolve, + And th' harmonious whole would all + In one hideous ruin fall. + + But through this connected frame + Runs one universal aim; + Towards the Good do all things tend, + Many paths, but one the end. + For naught lasts, unless it turns + Backward in its course, and yearns + To that Source to flow again + Whence its being first was ta'en. + + + +VII. + + +'Dost thou, then, see the consequence of all that we have said?' + +'Nay; what consequence?' + +'That absolutely every fortune is good fortune.' + +'And how can that be?' said I. + +'Attend,' said she. 'Since every fortune, welcome and unwelcome alike, +has for its object the reward or trial of the good, and the punishing or +amending of the bad, every fortune must be good, since it is either just +or useful.' + +'The reasoning is exceeding true,' said I, 'the conclusion, so long as I +reflect upon the providence and fate of which thou hast taught me, based +on a strong foundation. Yet, with thy leave, we will count it among +those which just now thou didst set down as paradoxical.' + +'And why so?' said she. + +'Because ordinary speech is apt to assert, and that frequently, that +some men's fortune is bad.' + +'Shall we, then, for awhile approach more nearly to the language of the +vulgar, that we may not seem to have departed too far from the usages of +men?' + +'At thy good pleasure,' said I. + +'That which advantageth thou callest good, dost thou not?' + +'Certainly.' + +'And that which either tries or amends advantageth?' + +'Granted.' + +'Is good, then?' + +'Of course.' + +'Well, this is _their_ case who have attained virtue and wage war with +adversity, or turn from vice and lay hold on the path of virtue.' + +'I cannot deny it.' + +'What of the good fortune which is given as reward of the good--do the +vulgar adjudge it bad?' + +'Anything but that; they deem it to be the best, as indeed it is.' + +'What, then, of that which remains, which, though it is harsh, puts the +restraint of just punishment on the bad--does popular opinion deem it +good?' + +'Nay; of all that can be imagined, it is accounted the most miserable.' + +'Observe, then, if, in following popular opinion, we have not ended in a +conclusion quite paradoxical.' + +'How so?' said I. + +'Why, it results from our admissions that of all who have attained, or +are advancing in, or are aiming at virtue, the fortune is in every case +good, while for those who remain in their wickedness fortune is always +utterly bad.' + +'It is true,' said I; 'yet no one dare acknowledge it.' + +'Wherefore,' said she, 'the wise man ought not to take it ill, if ever +he is involved in one of fortune's conflicts, any more than it becomes a +brave soldier to be offended when at any time the trumpet sounds for +battle. The time of trial is the express opportunity for the one to win +glory, for the other to perfect his wisdom. Hence, indeed, virtue gets +its name, because, relying on its own efficacy, it yieldeth not to +adversity. And ye who have taken your stand on virtue's steep ascent, +it is not for you to be dissolved in delights or enfeebled by pleasure; +ye close in conflict--yea, in conflict most sharp--with all fortune's +vicissitudes, lest ye suffer foul fortune to overwhelm or fair fortune +to corrupt you. Hold the mean with all your strength. Whatever falls +short of this, or goes beyond, is fraught with scorn of happiness, and +misses the reward of toil. It rests with you to make your fortune what +you will. Verily, every harsh-seeming fortune, unless it either +disciplines or amends, is punishment.' + + + +SONG VII. + +THE HERO'S PATH. + + + Ten years a tedious warfare raged, + Ere Ilium's smoking ruins paid + For wedlock stained and faith betrayed, + And great Atrides' wrath assuaged. + + But when heaven's anger asked a life, + And baffling winds his course withstood, + The king put off his fatherhood, + And slew his child with priestly knife. + + When by the cavern's glimmering light + His comrades dear Odysseus saw + In the huge Cyclops' hideous maw + Engulfed, he wept the piteous sight. + + But blinded soon, and wild with pain-- + In bitter tears and sore annoy-- + For that foul feast's unholy joy + Grim Polyphemus paid again. + + His labours for Alcides win + A name of glory far and wide; + He tamed the Centaur's haughty pride, + And from the lion reft his skin. + + The foul birds with sure darts he slew; + The golden fruit he stole--in vain + The dragon's watch; with triple chain + From hell's depths Cerberus he drew. + + With their fierce lord's own flesh he fed + The wild steeds; Hydra overcame + With fire. 'Neath his own waves in shame + Maimed Achelous hid his head. + + Huge Cacus for his crimes was slain; + On Libya's sands Antæus hurled; + The shoulders that upheld the world + The great boar's dribbled spume did stain. + + Last toil of all--his might sustained + The ball of heaven, nor did he bend + Beneath; this toil, his labour's end, + The prize of heaven's high glory gained. + + Brave hearts, press on! Lo, heavenward lead + These bright examples! From the fight + Turn not your backs in coward flight; + Earth's conflict won, the stars your meed! + + + + +BOOK V. + +FREE WILL AND GOD'S FOREKNOWLEDGE. + + + SUMMARY. + + CH. I. Boethius asks if there is really any such thing as chance. + Philosophy answers, in conformity with Aristotle's definition + (Phys., II. iv.), that chance is merely relative to human purpose, + and that what seems fortuitous really depends on a more subtle form + of causation.--CH. II. Has man, then, any freedom, if the reign of + law is thus absolute? Freedom of choice, replies Philosophy, is a + necessary attribute of reason. Man has a measure of freedom, though + a less perfect freedom than divine natures.--CH. III. But how can + man's freedom be reconciled with God's absolute foreknowledge? If + God's foreknowledge be certain, it seems to exclude the possibility + of man's free will. But if man has no freedom of choice, it + follows that rewards and punishments are unjust as well as useless; + that merit and demerit are mere names; that God is the cause of + men's wickednesses; that prayer is meaningless.--CH. IV. The + explanation is that man's reasoning faculties are not adequate to + the apprehension of the ways of God's foreknowledge. If we could + know, as He knows, all that is most perplexing in this problem + would be made plain. For knowledge depends not on the nature of the + thing known, but on the faculty of the knower.--CH. V. Now, where + our senses conflict with our reason, we defer the judgment of the + lower faculty to the judgment of the higher. Our present perplexity + arises from our viewing God's foreknowledge from the standpoint of + human reason. We must try and rise to the higher standpoint of + God's immediate intuition.--CH. VI. To understand this higher form + of cognition, we must consider God's nature. God is eternal. + Eternity is more than mere everlasting duration. Accordingly, His + knowledge surveys past and future in the timelessness of an eternal + present. His foreseeing is seeing. Yet this foreseeing does not in + itself impose necessity, any more than our seeing things happen + makes their happening necessary. We may, however, if we please, + distinguish two necessities--one absolute, the other conditional on + knowledge. In this conditional sense alone do the things which God + foresees necessarily come to pass. But this kind of necessity + affects not the nature of things. It leaves the reality of free + will unimpaired, and the evils feared do not ensue. Our + responsibility is great, since all that we do is done in the sight + of all-seeing Providence. + + + + +BOOK V. + + + +I. + + +She ceased, and was about to pass on in her discourse to the exposition +of other matters, when I break in and say: 'Excellent is thine +exhortation, and such as well beseemeth thy high authority; but I am +even now experiencing one of the many difficulties which, as thou saidst +but now, beset the question of providence. I want to know whether thou +deemest that there is any such thing as chance at all, and, if so, what +it is.' + +Then she made answer: 'I am anxious to fulfil my promise completely, and +open to thee a way of return to thy native land. As for these matters, +though very useful to know, they are yet a little removed from the path +of our design, and I fear lest digressions should fatigue thee, and thou +shouldst find thyself unequal to completing the direct journey to our +goal.' + +'Have no fear for that,' said I. 'It is rest to me to learn, where +learning brings delight so exquisite, especially when thy argument has +been built up on all sides with undoubted conviction, and no place is +left for uncertainty in what follows.' + +She made answer: 'I will accede to thy request;' and forthwith she thus +began: 'If chance be defined as a result produced by random movement +without any link of causal connection, I roundly affirm that there is no +such thing as chance at all, and consider the word to be altogether +without meaning, except as a symbol of the thing designated. What place +can be left for random action, when God constraineth all things to +order? For "ex nihilo nihil" is sound doctrine which none of the +ancients gainsaid, although they used it of material substance, not of +the efficient principle; this they laid down as a kind of basis for all +their reasonings concerning nature. Now, if a thing arise without +causes, it will appear to have arisen from nothing. But if this cannot +be, neither is it possible for there to be chance in accordance with the +definition just given.' + +'Well,' said I, 'is there, then, nothing which can properly be called +chance or accident, or is there something to which these names are +appropriate, though its nature is dark to the vulgar?' + +'Our good Aristotle,' says she, 'has defined it concisely in his +"Physics," and closely in accordance with the truth.' + +'How, pray?' said I. + +'Thus,' says she: 'Whenever something is done for the sake of a +particular end, and for certain reasons some other result than that +designed ensues, this is called chance; for instance, if a man is +digging the earth for tillage, and finds a mass of buried gold. Now, +such a find is regarded as accidental; yet it is not "ex nihilo," for it +has its proper causes, the unforeseen and unexpected concurrence of +which has brought the chance about. For had not the cultivator been +digging, had not the man who hid the money buried it in that precise +spot, the gold would not have been found. These, then, are the reasons +why the find is a chance one, in that it results from causes which met +together and concurred, not from any intention on the part of the +discoverer. Since neither he who buried the gold nor he who worked in +the field _intended_ that the money should be found, but, as I said, it +_happened_ by coincidence that one dug where the other buried the +treasure. We may, then, define chance as being an unexpected result +flowing from a concurrence of causes where the several factors had some +definite end. But the meeting and concurrence of these causes arises +from that inevitable chain of order which, flowing from the +fountain-head of Providence, disposes all things in their due time and +place.' + + + +SONG I. + +CHANCE. + + + In the rugged Persian highlands, + Where the masters of the bow + Skill to feign a flight, and, fleeing, + Hurl their darts and pierce the foe; + There the Tigris and Euphrates + At one source[O] their waters blend, + Soon to draw apart, and plainward + Each its separate way to wend. + When once more their waters mingle + In a channel deep and wide, + All the flotsam comes together + That is borne upon the tide: + Ships, and trunks of trees, uprooted + In the torrent's wild career, + Meet, as 'mid the swirling waters + Chance their random way may steer. + Yet the shelving of the channel + And the flowing water's force + Guides each movement, and determines + Every floating fragment's course. + Thus, where'er the drift of hazard + Seems most unrestrained to flow, + Chance herself is reined and bitted, + And the curb of law doth know. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[O] This is not, of course, literally true, though the Tigris and +Euphrates rise in the same mountain district. + + + +II. + + +'I am following needfully,' said I, 'and I agree that it is as thou +sayest. But in this series of linked causes is there any freedom left to +our will, or does the chain of fate bind also the very motions of our +souls?' + +'There is freedom,' said she; 'nor, indeed, can any creature be +rational, unless he be endowed with free will. For that which hath the +natural use of reason has the faculty of discriminative judgment, and of +itself distinguishes what is to be shunned or desired. Now, everyone +seeks what he judges desirable, and avoids what he thinks should be +shunned. Wherefore, beings endowed with reason possess also the faculty +of free choice and refusal. But I suppose this faculty not equal alike +in all. The higher Divine essences possess a clear-sighted judgment, an +uncorrupt will, and an effective power of accomplishing their wishes. +Human souls must needs be comparatively free while they abide in the +contemplation of the Divine mind, less free when they pass into bodily +form, and still less, again, when they are enwrapped in earthly members. +But when they are given over to vices, and fall from the possession of +their proper reason, then indeed their condition is utter slavery. For +when they let their gaze fall from the light of highest truth to the +lower world where darkness reigns, soon ignorance blinds their vision; +they are disturbed by baneful affections, by yielding and assenting to +which they help to promote the slavery in which they are involved, and +are in a manner led captive by reason of their very liberty. Yet He who +seeth all things from eternity beholdeth these things with the eyes of +His providence, and assigneth to each what is predestined for it by its +merits: + + '"All things surveying, all things overhearing.'" + + + +SONG II. + +THE TRUE SUN. + + + Homer with mellifluous tongue + Phoebus' glorious light hath sung, + Hymning high his praise; + Yet _his_ feeble rays + Ocean's hollows may not brighten, + Nor earth's central gloom enlighten. + + But the might of Him, who skilled + This great universe to build, + Is not thus confined; + Not earth's solid rind, + Nor night's blackest canopy, + Baffle His all-seeing eye. + + All that is, hath been, shall be, + In one glance's compass, He + Limitless descries; + And, save His, no eyes + All the world survey--no, none! + _Him_, then, truly name the Sun. + + + +III. + + +Then said I: 'But now I am once more perplexed by a problem yet more +difficult.' + +'And what is that?' said she; 'yet, in truth, I can guess what it is +that troubles you.' + +'It seems,' said I, 'too much of a paradox and a contradiction that God +should know all things, and yet there should be free will. For if God +foresees everything, and can in no wise be deceived, that which +providence foresees to be about to happen must necessarily come to pass. +Wherefore, if from eternity He foreknows not only what men will do, but +also their designs and purposes, there can be no freedom of the will, +seeing that nothing can be done, nor can any sort of purpose be +entertained, save such as a Divine providence, incapable of being +deceived, has perceived beforehand. For if the issues can be turned +aside to some other end than that foreseen by providence, there will not +then be any sure foreknowledge of the future, but uncertain conjecture +instead, and to think this of God I deem impiety. + +'Moreover, I do not approve the reasoning by which some think to solve +this puzzle. For they say that it is not because God has foreseen the +coming of an event that _therefore_ it is sure to come to pass, but, +conversely, because something is about to come to pass, it cannot be +hidden from Divine providence; and accordingly the necessity passes to +the opposite side, and it is not that what is foreseen must necessarily +come to pass, but that what is about to come to pass must necessarily be +foreseen. But this is just as if the matter in debate were, which is +cause and which effect--whether foreknowledge of the future cause of the +necessity, or the necessity of the future of the foreknowledge. But we +need not be at the pains of demonstrating that, whatsoever be the order +of the causal sequence, the occurrence of things foreseen is necessary, +even though the foreknowledge of future events does not in itself +impose upon them the necessity of their occurrence. For example, if a +man be seated, the supposition of his being seated is necessarily true; +and, conversely, if the supposition of his being seated is true, because +he is really seated, he must necessarily be sitting. So, in either case, +there is some necessity involved--in this latter case, the necessity of +the fact; in the former, of the truth of the statement. But in both +cases the sitter is not therefore seated because the opinion is true, +but rather the opinion is true because antecedently he was sitting as a +matter of fact. Thus, though the cause of the truth of the opinion comes +from the other side,[P] yet there is a necessity on both sides alike. We +can obviously reason similarly in the case of providence and the future. +Even if future events are foreseen because they are about to happen, and +do not come to pass because they are foreseen, still, all the same, +there is a necessity, both that they should be foreseen by God as about +to come to pass, and that when they are foreseen they should happen, and +this is sufficient for the destruction of free will. However, it is +preposterous to speak of the occurrence of events in time as the cause +of eternal foreknowledge. And yet if we believe that God foresees future +events because they are about to come to pass, what is it but to think +that the occurrence of events is the cause of His supreme providence? +Further, just as when I _know_ that anything is, that thing +_necessarily_ is, so when I know that anything will be, it will +_necessarily_ be. It follows, then, that things foreknown come to pass +inevitably. + +'Lastly, to think of a thing as being in any way other than what it is, +is not only not knowledge, but it is false opinion widely different from +the truth of knowledge. Consequently, if anything is about to be, and +yet its occurrence is not certain and necessary, how can anyone foreknow +that it will occur? For just as knowledge itself is free from all +admixture of falsity, so any conception drawn from knowledge cannot be +other than as it is conceived. For this, indeed, is the cause why +knowledge is free from falsehood, because of necessity each thing must +correspond exactly with the knowledge which grasps its nature. In what +way, then, are we to suppose that God foreknows these uncertainties as +about to come to pass? For if He thinks of events which possibly may not +happen at all as inevitably destined to come to pass, He is deceived; +and this it is not only impious to believe, but even so much as to +express in words. If, on the other hand, He sees them in the future as +they are in such a sense as to know that they may equally come to pass +or not, what sort of foreknowledge is this which comprehends nothing +certain nor fixed? What better is this than the absurd vaticination of +Teiresias? + + '"Whate'er I say + Shall either come to pass--or not." + +In that case, too, in what would Divine providence surpass human opinion +if it holds for uncertain things the occurrence of which is uncertain, +even as men do? But if at that perfectly sure Fountain-head of all +things no shadow of uncertainty can possibly be found, then the +occurrence of those things which He has surely foreknown as coming is +certain. Wherefore there can be no freedom in human actions and designs; +but the Divine mind, which foresees all things without possibility of +mistake, ties and binds them down to one only issue. But this admission +once made, what an upset of human affairs manifestly ensues! Vainly are +rewards and punishments proposed for the good and bad, since no free and +voluntary motion of the will has deserved either one or the other; nay, +the punishment of the wicked and the reward of the righteous, which is +now esteemed the perfection of justice, will seem the most flagrant +injustice, since men are determined either way not by their own proper +volition, but by the necessity of what must surely be. And therefore +neither virtue nor vice is anything, but rather good and ill desert are +confounded together without distinction. Moreover, seeing that the whole +course of events is deduced from providence, and nothing is left free to +human design, it comes to pass that our vices also are referred to the +Author of all good--a thought than which none more abominable can +possibly be conceived. Again, no ground is left for hope or prayer, +since how can we hope for blessings, or pray for mercy, when every +object of desire depends upon the links of an unalterable chain of +causation? Gone, then, is the one means of intercourse between God and +man--the communion of hope and prayer--if it be true that we ever earn +the inestimable recompense of the Divine favour at the price of a due +humility; for this is the one way whereby men seem able to hold +communion with God, and are joined to that unapproachable light by the +very act of supplication, even before they obtain their petitions. Then, +since these things can scarcely be believed to have any efficacy, if the +necessity of future events be admitted, what means will there be whereby +we may be brought near and cleave to Him who is the supreme Head of all? +Wherefore it needs must be that the human race, even as thou didst +erstwhile declare in song, parted and dissevered from its Source, should +fall to ruin.' + +FOOTNOTES: + +[P] _I.e._, the necessity of the truth of the statement from the fact. + + + +SONG III. + +TRUTH'S PARADOXES. + + + Why does a strange discordance break + The ordered scheme's fair harmony? + Hath God decreed 'twixt truth and truth + There may such lasting warfare be, + That truths, each severally plain, + We strive to reconcile in vain? + + Or is the discord not in truth, + Since truth is self consistent ever? + But, close in fleshly wrappings held, + The blinded mind of man can never + Discern--so faint her taper shines-- + The subtle chain that all combines? + + Ah! then why burns man's restless mind + Truth's hidden portals to unclose? + Knows he already what he seeks? + Why toil to seek it, if he knows? + Yet, haply if he knoweth not, + Why blindly seek he knows not what?[Q] + + + Who for a good he knows not sighs? + Who can an unknown end pursue? + How find? How e'en when haply found + Hail that strange form he never knew? + Or is it that man's inmost soul + Once knew each part and knew the whole? + + Now, though by fleshly vapours dimmed, + Not all forgot her visions past; + For while the several parts are lost, + To the one whole she cleaveth fast; + Whence he who yearns the truth to find + Is neither sound of sight nor blind. + + For neither does he know in full, + Nor is he reft of knowledge quite; + But, holding still to what is left, + He gropes in the uncertain light, + And by the part that still survives + To win back all he bravely strives. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Q] Compare Plato, 'Meno,' 80; Jowett, vol. ii., pp. 39, 40. + + + +IV. + + +Then said she: 'This debate about providence is an old one, and is +vigorously discussed by Cicero in his "Divination"; thou also hast long +and earnestly pondered the problem, yet no one has had diligence and +perseverance enough to find a solution. And the reason of this obscurity +is that the movement of human reasoning cannot cope with the simplicity +of the Divine foreknowledge; for if a conception of its nature could in +any wise be framed, no shadow of uncertainty would remain. With a view +of making this at last clear and plain, I will begin by considering the +arguments by which thou art swayed. First, I inquire into the reasons +why thou art dissatisfied with the solution proposed, which is to the +effect that, seeing the fact of foreknowledge is not thought the cause +of the necessity of future events, foreknowledge is not to be deemed any +hindrance to the freedom of the will. Now, surely the sole ground on +which thou arguest the necessity of the future is that things which are +foreknown cannot fail to come to pass. But if, as thou wert ready to +acknowledge just now, the fact of foreknowledge imposes no necessity on +things future, what reason is there for supposing the results of +voluntary action constrained to a fixed issue? Suppose, for the sake of +argument, and to see what follows, we assume that there is no +foreknowledge. Are willed actions, then, tied down to any necessity in +_this_ case?' + +'Certainly not.' + +'Let us assume foreknowledge again, but without its involving any actual +necessity; the freedom of the will, I imagine, will remain in complete +integrity. But thou wilt say that, even although the foreknowledge is +not the necessity of the future event's occurrence, yet it is a sign +that it will necessarily happen. Granted; but in this case it is plain +that, even if there had been no foreknowledge, the issues would have +been inevitably certain. For a sign only indicates something which is, +does not bring to pass that of which it is the sign. We require to show +beforehand that all things, without exception, happen of necessity in +order that a preconception may be a sign of this necessity. Otherwise, +if there is no such universal necessity, neither can any preconception +be a sign of a necessity which exists not. Manifestly, too, a proof +established on firm grounds of reason must be drawn not from signs and +loose general arguments, but from suitable and necessary causes. But how +can it be that things foreseen should ever fail to come to pass? Why, +this is to suppose us to believe that the events which providence +foresees to be coming were not about to happen, instead of our supposing +that, although they should come to pass, yet there was no necessity +involved in their own nature compelling their occurrence. Take an +illustration that will help to convey my meaning. There are many things +which we see taking place before our eyes--the movements of charioteers, +for instance, in guiding and turning their cars, and so on. Now, is any +one of these movements compelled by any necessity?' + +'No; certainly not. There would be no efficacy in skill if all motions +took place perforce.' + +'Then, things which in taking place are free from any necessity as to +their being in the present must also, before they take place, be about +to happen without necessity. Wherefore there are things which will come +to pass, the occurrence of which is perfectly free from necessity. At +all events, I imagine that no one will deny that things now taking place +were about to come to pass before they were actually happening. Such +things, however much foreknown, are in their occurrence _free_. For even +as knowledge of things present imports no necessity into things that are +taking place, so foreknowledge of the future imports none into things +that are about to come. But this, thou wilt say, is the very point in +dispute--whether any foreknowing is possible of things whose occurrence +is not necessary. For here there seems to thee a contradiction, and, if +they are foreseen, their necessity follows; whereas if there is no +necessity, they can by no means be foreknown; and thou thinkest that +nothing can be grasped as known unless it is certain, but if things +whose occurrence is uncertain are foreknown as certain, this is the very +mist of opinion, not the truth of knowledge. For to think of things +otherwise than as they are, thou believest to be incompatible with the +soundness of knowledge. + +'Now, the cause of the mistake is this--that men think that all +knowledge is cognized purely by the nature and efficacy of the thing +known. Whereas the case is the very reverse: all that is known is +grasped not conformably to its own efficacy, but rather conformably to +the faculty of the knower. An example will make this clear: the +roundness of a body is recognised in one way by sight, in another by +touch. Sight looks upon it from a distance as a whole by a simultaneous +reflection of rays; touch grasps the roundness piecemeal, by contact and +attachment to the surface, and by actual movement round the periphery +itself. Man himself, likewise, is viewed in one way by Sense, in another +by Imagination, in another way, again, by Thought, in another by pure +Intelligence. Sense judges figure clothed in material substance, +Imagination figure alone without matter. Thought transcends this again, +and by its contemplation of universals considers the type itself which +is contained in the individual. The eye of Intelligence is yet more +exalted; for overpassing the sphere of the universal, it will behold +absolute form itself by the pure force of the mind's vision. Wherein the +main point to be considered is this: the higher faculty of comprehension +embraces the lower, while the lower cannot rise to the higher. For Sense +has no efficacy beyond matter, nor can Imagination behold universal +ideas, nor Thought embrace pure form; but Intelligence, looking down, as +it were, from its higher standpoint in its intuition of form, +discriminates also the several elements which underlie it; but it +comprehends them in the same way as it comprehends that form itself, +which could be cognized by no other than itself. For it cognizes the +universal of Thought, the figure of Imagination, and the matter of +Sense, without employing Thought, Imagination, or Sense, but surveying +all things, so to speak, under the aspect of pure form by a single flash +of intuition. Thought also, in considering the universal, embraces +images and sense-impressions without resorting to Imagination or Sense. +For it is Thought which has thus defined the universal from its +conceptual point of view: "Man is a two-legged animal endowed with +reason." This is indeed a universal notion, yet no one is ignorant that +the _thing_ is imaginable and presentable to Sense, because Thought +considers it not by Imagination or Sense, but by means of rational +conception. Imagination, too, though its faculty of viewing and forming +representations is founded upon the senses, nevertheless surveys +sense-impressions without calling in Sense, not in the way of +Sense-perception, but of Imagination. See'st thou, then, how all things +in cognizing use rather their own faculty than the faculty of the things +which they cognize? Nor is this strange; for since every judgment is the +act of the judge, it is necessary that each should accomplish its task +by its own, not by another's power.' + + + +SONG IV. + +A PSYCHOLOGICAL FALLACY.[R] + + + From the Porch's murky depths + Comes a doctrine sage, + That doth liken living mind + To a written page; + Since all knowledge comes through + Sense, + Graven by Experience. + + 'As,' say they, 'the pen its marks + Curiously doth trace + On the smooth unsullied white + Of the paper's face, + So do outer things impress + Images on consciousness.' + + But if verily the mind + Thus all passive lies; + If no living power within + Its own force supplies; + If it but reflect again, + Like a glass, things false and vain-- + + + Whence the wondrous faculty + That perceives and knows, + That in one fair ordered scheme + Doth the world dispose; + Grasps each whole that Sense presents, + Or breaks into elements? + + So divides and recombines, + And in changeful wise + Now to low descends, and now + To the height doth rise; + Last in inward swift review + Strictly sifts the false and true? + + Of these ample potencies + Fitter cause, I ween, + Were Mind's self than marks impressed + By the outer scene. + Yet the body through the sense + Stirs the soul's intelligence. + + When light flashes on the eye, + Or sound strikes the ear, + Mind aroused to due response + Makes the message clear; + And the dumb external signs + With the hidden forms combines. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[R] A criticism of the doctrine of the mind as a blank sheet of paper on +which experience writes, as held by the Stoics in anticipation of Locke. +See Zeller, 'Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics,' Reichel's translation, +p. 76. + + + +V. + + +'Now, although in the case of bodies endowed with sentiency the +qualities of external objects affect the sense-organs, and the activity +of mind is preceded by a bodily affection which calls forth the mind's +action upon itself, and stimulates the forms till that moment lying +inactive within, yet, I say, if in these bodies endowed with sentiency +the mind is not inscribed by mere passive affection, but of its own +efficacy discriminates the impressions furnished to the body, how much +more do intelligences free from all bodily affections employ in their +discrimination their own mental activities instead of conforming to +external objects? So on these principles various modes of cognition +belong to distinct and different substances. For to creatures void of +motive power--shell-fish and other such creatures which cling to rocks +and grow there--belongs Sense alone, void of all other modes of gaining +knowledge; to beasts endowed with movement, in whom some capacity of +seeking and shunning seems to have arisen, Imagination also. Thought +pertains only to the human race, as Intelligence to Divinity alone; +hence it follows that that form of knowledge exceeds the rest which of +its own nature cognizes not only its proper object, but the objects of +the other forms of knowledge also. But what if Sense and Imagination +were to gainsay Thought, and declare that universal which Thought deems +itself to behold to be nothing? For the object of Sense and Imagination +cannot be universal; so that either the judgment of Reason is true and +there is no sense-object, or, since they know full well that many +objects are presented to Sense and Imagination, the conception of +Reason, which looks on that which is perceived by Sense and particular +as if it were a something "universal," is empty of content. Suppose, +further, that Reason maintains in reply that it does indeed contemplate +the object of both Sense and Imagination under the form of +universality, while Sense and Imagination cannot aspire to the +knowledge of the universal, since their cognizance cannot go beyond +bodily figures, and that in the cognition of reality we ought rather to +trust the stronger and more perfect faculty of judgment. In a dispute of +this sort, should not we, in whom is planted the faculty of reasoning as +well as of imagining and perceiving, espouse the cause of Reason? + +'In like manner is it that human reason thinks that Divine Intelligence +cannot see the future except after the fashion in which its own +knowledge is obtained. For thy contention is, if events do not appear to +involve certain and necessary issues, they cannot be foreseen as +certainly about to come to pass. There is, then, no foreknowledge of +such events; or, if we can ever bring ourselves to believe that there +is, there can be nothing which does not happen of necessity. If, +however, we could have some part in the judgment of the Divine mind, +even as we participate in Reason, we should think it perfectly just that +human Reason should submit itself to the Divine mind, no less than we +judged that Imagination and Sense ought to yield to Reason. Wherefore +let us soar, if we can, to the heights of that Supreme Intelligence; for +there Reason will see what in itself it cannot look upon; and that is in +what way things whose occurrence is not certain may yet be seen in a +sure and definite foreknowledge; and that this foreknowledge is not +conjecture, but rather knowledge in its supreme simplicity, free of all +limits and restrictions.' + + + +SONG V. + +THE UPWARD LOOK. + + + In what divers shapes and fashions do the creatures great and small + Over wide earth's teeming surface skim, or scud, or walk, or crawl! + Some with elongated body sweep the ground, and, as they move, + Trail perforce with writhing belly in the dust a sinuous groove; + Some, on light wing upward soaring, swiftly do the winds divide, + And through heaven's ample spaces in free motion smoothly glide; + These earth's solid surface pressing, with firm paces onward rove, + Ranging through the verdant meadows, crouching in the woodland grove. + Great and wondrous is their variance! Yet in all the head low-bent + Dulls the soul and blunts the senses, though their forms be different. + Man alone, erect, aspiring, lifts his forehead to the skies, + And in upright posture steadfast seems earth's baseness to despise. + If with earth not all besotted, to this parable give ear, + Thou whose gaze is fixed on heaven, who thy face on high dost rear: + Lift thy soul, too, heavenward; haply lest it stain its heavenly worth, + And thine eyes alone look upward, while thy mind cleaves to the earth! + + + +VI. + + +'Since, then, as we lately proved, everything that is known is cognized +not in accordance with its own nature, but in accordance with the nature +of the faculty that comprehends it, let us now contemplate, as far as +lawful, the character of the Divine essence, that we may be able to +understand also the nature of its knowledge. + +'God is eternal; in this judgment all rational beings agree. Let us, +then, consider what eternity is. For this word carries with it a +revelation alike of the Divine nature and of the Divine knowledge. Now, +eternity is the possession of endless life whole and perfect at a single +moment. What this is becomes more clear and manifest from a comparison +with things temporal. For whatever lives in time is a present proceeding +from the past to the future, and there is nothing set in time which can +embrace the whole space of its life together. To-morrow's state it +grasps not yet, while it has already lost yesterday's; nay, even in the +life of to-day ye live no longer than one brief transitory moment. +Whatever, therefore, is subject to the condition of time, although, as +Aristotle deemed of the world, it never have either beginning or end, +and its life be stretched to the whole extent of time's infinity, it yet +is not such as rightly to be thought eternal. For it does not include +and embrace the whole space of infinite life at once, but has no present +hold on things to come, not yet accomplished. Accordingly, that which +includes and possesses the whole fulness of unending life at once, from +which nothing future is absent, from which nothing past has escaped, +this is rightly called eternal; this must of necessity be ever present +to itself in full self-possession, and hold the infinity of movable time +in an abiding present. Wherefore they deem not rightly who imagine that +on Plato's principles the created world is made co-eternal with the +Creator, because they are told that he believed the world to have had +no beginning in time,[S] and to be destined never to come to an end. For +it is one thing for existence to be endlessly prolonged, which was what +Plato ascribed to the world, another for the whole of an endless life to +be embraced in the present, which is manifestly a property peculiar to +the Divine mind. Nor need God appear earlier in mere duration of time to +created things, but only prior in the unique simplicity of His nature. +For the infinite progression of things in time copies this immediate +existence in the present of the changeless life, and when it cannot +succeed in equalling it, declines from movelessness into motion, and +falls away from the simplicity of a perpetual present to the infinite +duration of the future and the past; and since it cannot possess the +whole fulness of its life together, for the very reason that in a manner +it never ceases to be, it seems, up to a certain point, to rival that +which it cannot complete and express by attaching itself indifferently +to any present moment of time, however swift and brief; and since this +bears some resemblance to that ever-abiding present, it bestows on +everything to which it is assigned the semblance of existence. But since +it cannot abide, it hurries along the infinite path of time, and the +result has been that it continues by ceaseless movement the life the +completeness of which it could not embrace while it stood still. So, if +we are minded to give things their right names, we shall follow Plato in +saying that God indeed is eternal, but the world everlasting. + +'Since, then, every mode of judgment comprehends its objects conformably +to its own nature, and since God abides for ever in an eternal present, +His knowledge, also transcending all movement of time, dwells in the +simplicity of its own changeless present, and, embracing the whole +infinite sweep of the past and of the future, contemplates all that +falls within its simple cognition as if it were now taking place. And +therefore, if thou wilt carefully consider that immediate presentment +whereby it discriminates all things, thou wilt more rightly deem it not +foreknowledge as of something future, but knowledge of a moment that +never passes. For this cause the name chosen to describe it is not +prevision, but providence, because, since utterly removed in nature from +things mean and trivial, its outlook embraces all things as from some +lofty height. Why, then, dost thou insist that the things which are +surveyed by the Divine eye are involved in necessity, whereas clearly +men impose no necessity on things which they see? Does the act of vision +add any necessity to the things which thou seest before thy eyes?' + +'Assuredly not.' + +'And yet, if we may without unfitness compare God's present and man's, +just as ye see certain things in this your temporary present, so does He +see all things in His eternal present. Wherefore this Divine +anticipation changes not the natures and properties of things, and it +beholds things present before it, just as they will hereafter come to +pass in time. Nor does it confound things in its judgment, but in the +one mental view distinguishes alike what will come necessarily and what +without necessity. For even as ye, when at one and the same time ye see +a man walking on the earth and the sun rising in the sky, distinguish +between the two, though one glance embraces both, and judge the former +voluntary, the latter necessary action: so also the Divine vision in its +universal range of view does in no wise confuse the characters of the +things which are present to its regard, though future in respect of +time. Whence it follows that when it perceives that something will come +into existence, and yet is perfectly aware that this is unbound by any +necessity, its apprehension is not opinion, but rather knowledge based +on truth. And if to this thou sayest that what God sees to be about to +come to pass cannot fail to come to pass, and that what cannot fail to +come to pass happens of necessity, and wilt tie me down to this word +necessity, I will acknowledge that thou affirmest a most solid truth, +but one which scarcely anyone can approach to who has not made the +Divine his special study. For my answer would be that the same future +event is necessary from the standpoint of Divine knowledge, but when +considered in its own nature it seems absolutely free and unfettered. +So, then, there are two necessities--one simple, as that men are +necessarily mortal; the other conditioned, as that, if you know that +someone is walking, he must necessarily be walking. For that which is +known cannot indeed be otherwise than as it is known to be, and yet this +fact by no means carries with it that other simple necessity. For the +former necessity is not imposed by the thing's own proper nature, but by +the addition of a condition. No necessity compels one who is voluntarily +walking to go forward, although it is necessary for him to go forward at +the moment of walking. In the same way, then, if Providence sees +anything as present, that must necessarily be, though it is bound by no +necessity of nature. Now, God views as present those coming events which +happen of free will. These, accordingly, from the standpoint of the +Divine vision are made necessary conditionally on the Divine +cognizance; viewed, however, in themselves, they desist not from the +absolute freedom naturally theirs. Accordingly, without doubt, all +things will come to pass which God foreknows as about to happen, but of +these certain proceed of free will; and though these happen, yet by the +fact of their existence they do not lose their proper nature, in virtue +of which before they happened it was really possible that they might not +have come to pass. + +'What difference, then, does the denial of necessity make, since, +through their being conditioned by Divine knowledge, they come to pass +as if they were in all respects under the compulsion of necessity? This +difference, surely, which we saw in the case of the instances I formerly +took, the sun's rising and the man's walking; which at the moment of +their occurrence could not but be taking place, and yet one of them +before it took place was necessarily obliged to be, while the other was +not so at all. So likewise the things which to God are present without +doubt exist, but some of them come from the necessity of things, others +from the power of the agent. Quite rightly, then, have we said that +these things are necessary if viewed from the standpoint of the Divine +knowledge; but if they are considered in themselves, they are free from +the bonds of necessity, even as everything which is accessible to sense, +regarded from the standpoint of Thought, is universal, but viewed in its +own nature particular. "But," thou wilt say, "if it is in my power to +change my purpose, I shall make void providence, since I shall perchance +change something which comes within its foreknowledge." My answer is: +Thou canst indeed turn aside thy purpose; but since the truth of +providence is ever at hand to see that thou canst, and whether thou +dost, and whither thou turnest thyself, thou canst not avoid the Divine +foreknowledge, even as thou canst not escape the sight of a present +spectator, although of thy free will thou turn thyself to various +actions. Wilt thou, then, say: "Shall the Divine knowledge be changed at +my discretion, so that, when I will this or that, providence changes its +knowledge correspondingly?" + +'Surely not.' + +'True, for the Divine vision anticipates all that is coming, and +transforms and reduces it to the form of its own present knowledge, and +varies not, as thou deemest, in its foreknowledge, alternating to this +or that, but in a single flash it forestalls and includes thy mutations +without altering. And this ever-present comprehension and survey of all +things God has received, not from the issue of future events, but from +the simplicity of His own nature. Hereby also is resolved the objection +which a little while ago gave thee offence--that our doings in the +future were spoken of as if supplying the cause of God's knowledge. For +this faculty of knowledge, embracing all things in its immediate +cognizance, has itself fixed the bounds of all things, yet itself owes +nothing to what comes after. + +'And all this being so, the freedom of man's will stands unshaken, and +laws are not unrighteous, since their rewards and punishments are held +forth to wills unbound by any necessity. God, who foreknoweth all +things, still looks down from above, and the ever-present eternity of +His vision concurs with the future character of all our acts, and +dispenseth to the good rewards, to the bad punishments. Our hopes and +prayers also are not fixed on God in vain, and when they are rightly +directed cannot fail of effect. Therefore, withstand vice, practise +virtue, lift up your souls to right hopes, offer humble prayers to +Heaven. Great is the necessity of righteousness laid upon you if ye will +not hide it from yourselves, seeing that all your actions are done +before the eyes of a Judge who seeth all things.' + +FOOTNOTES: + +[S] Plato expressly states the opposite in the 'Timæus' (28B), though +possibly there the account of the beginning of the world in time is to +be understood figuratively, not literally. See Jowett, vol. iii., pp. +448, 449 (3rd edit.). + + + + +EPILOGUE. + + +Within a short time of writing 'The Consolation of Philosophy,' Boethius +died by a cruel death. As to the manner of his death there is some +uncertainty. According to one account, he was cut down by the swords of +the soldiers before the very judgment-seat of Theodoric; according to +another, a cord was first fastened round his forehead, and tightened +till 'his eyes started'; he was then killed with a club. + +_Elliot Stock, Paternoster Row, London_ + + + + +REFERENCES TO QUOTATIONS IN THE TEXT. + +Bk. I., ch. iv., p. 17, l. 6: 'Iliad,' I. 363. + + " ch. iv., p. 18, l. 7: Plato, 'Republic,' + V. 473, D; Jowett, vol. iii., pp. 170, 171 + (3rd edit.). + + " ch. iv., p. 22, l. 6: Plato, 'Republic,' + I. 347, C; Jowett, III., p. 25. + + " ch. v., p. 30, l. 19: 'Iliad,' II., 204, 205. + +Bk. II., ch. ii., p. 50, l. 21: 'Iliad.' XXIV. + 527, 528. + + " ch. vii., p. 78, l. 25: Cicero, 'De + Republicâ,' VI. 20, in the 'Somnium + Scipionis.' + +Bk. III., ch. iv., p. 106, l. 10: Catullus, LII., 2. + + " ch. vi., p. 114, l. 4: Euripides, 'Andromache,' + 319, 320. + + " ch. ix., p. 129, l. 3: Plato, 'Timæus,' + 27, C; Jowett, vol. iii., p. 448. + + " ch. xii., p. 157, l. 14: Quoted Plato, + 'Sophistes,' 244, E; Jowett, vol. iv., + p. 374. + + " ch. xii., p. 157, l. 22: Plato, 'Timæus,' + 29, B; Jowett, vol. iii., p. 449. + +Bk. IV., ch. vi., p. 206, l. 17: Lucan, 'Pharsalia,' + I. 126. + + " ch. vi., p. 210, l. 23: 'Iliad,' XII. 176. + +Bk. V., ch. i., p. 227,l. 16: Aristotle, 'Physics,' + II. v. 5. + + " ch. iii., p. 238, l. 20: Horace, 'Satires,' + II. v. 59. + + " ch. iv., p. 243, l. 3: Cicero, 'De Divinatione,' + II. 7, 8. + + " ch. vi., p. 258, l. 8: Aristotle, 'De + Cælo,' II. 1. + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Consolation of Philosophy, by Boethius + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSOLATION OF PHILOSOPHY *** + +***** This file should be named 14328-8.txt or 14328-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/2/14328/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Karina Aleksandrova and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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