"Then by reason of this likeness both unity and good must be allowed to be the same thing; for such things as have by nature the same operation, have the same essence."
"Undeniably."
"Do you realise that everything remains existent so long as it keeps its unity, but perishes in dissolution as soon as it loses its unity?"
"How so?" I asked.
"In the case of animals/' she said, "so long as mind and 66 Boethius body remain united, you have what you call an animal. But as soon as this unity is dissolved by the separation of the two, the animal perishes and can plainly be no longer called an animal. In the case of the body, too, so long as it remains in a single form by the union of its members, the human figure is presented. But if the division or separation of the body's parts drags that union asunder, it at once ceases to be what it was. In this way one may go through every subject, and it will be quite evident that each thing exists individually, so long as it is one, but perishes so soon as it ceases to be one."
"Yes, I see the same when I think of other cases."
"Is there anything," she then asked, "which, in so far as it acts by nature, ever loses its desire for self-preservation, and would voluntarily seek to come to death and corruption?"
"No," I said; "while I think of animals which have volition in their nature, I can find in them no desire to throw away their determination to remain as they are, or to hasten to perish of their own accord, so long as there are no external forces compelling them thereto. Every animal labours for its preser- vation, shunning death and extinction. But about trees and plants, I have great doubts as to what I should agree to in their case, and in all inanimate objects."
"But in this case too," she said, "you have no reason to be in doubt, when you see how trees and plants grow in places which suit them, and where, so far as nature is able to prevent it, they cannot quickly wither and perish. For some grow in plains, others on mountains; some are nourished by marshes, others cling to rocks; some are fertilised by otherwise barren sands, and would wither away if one tried to transplant them to better soil. Nature grants to each what suits it, and works against their perishing while they can possibly remain alive. I need hardly remind you that all plants seem to have their mouths buried in the earth, and so they suck up nourishment by their roots and diffuse their strength through their pith and bark: the pith being the softest part is always hidden away at the heart and covered, protected, as it were, by the strength of the wood; while outside, the bark, as being the defender The Consolation of Philosophy 67 who endures the best, is opposed to the unkindness of the weather. Again, how great is nature's care, that they should all propagate themselves by the reproduction of their seed; they all, as is so well known, are like regular machines not merely for lasting a time, but for reproducing themselves for ever, and that by their own kinds. Things too which are supposed to be inanimate, surely do all seek after their own by a like process. For why is flame carried upward by its lightness, while solid things are carried down by their weight, unless it be that these positions and movements are suitable to each? Further, each thing preserves what is suitable to itself, and what is harmful, it destroys. Hard things, such as stones, cohere with the utmost tenacity of their parts, and resist easy dissolution; while liquids, water, and air, yield easily to divi- sion, but quickly slip back to mingle their parts which have been cut asunder. And fire cannot be cut at all.
"We are not now discussing the voluntary movements of a reasoning mind, but the natural instinct. For instance, we unwittingly digest the food we have eaten, and unconsciously breathe in sleep. Not even in animals does this love of self- preservation come from mental wishes, but from elementary nature. For often the will, under stress of external causes, embraces the idea of death, from which nature revolts in horror. 1 And, on the other hand, the will sometimes restrains what nature always desires, namely the operation of begetting, by which alone the continuance of mortal things becomes en- during. Thus far, then, this love of self-preservation arises not from the reasoning animal's intention, but from natural in- stinct. Providence has given to its creatures this the greatest cause of permanent existence, the instinctive desire to remain existent so far as possible. Wherefore you have no reason to doubt that all things, which exist, seek a permanent existence by nature, and similarly avoid extinction."
1 Boethius is possibly thinking here of passages in Plato's Republic, Bk. iv. (439-441), where Socrates points out the frequent opposition of reason and instinct.
68 Boethius "Yes," I said, "I confess that I see now beyond all doubt what appeared to me just now uncertain."
"But," she continued, "that which seeks to continue its existence, aims at unity; for take this way, and none will have any chance of continued existence."
"That is true."
"Then all things desire unity," she said, and I agreed.
"But we have shewn unity to be identical with the good?"
"Yes," said I.
"Then all things desire the good; and that you may define as being the absolute good which is desired by all."
"Nothing could be more truthfully reasoned. For either everything is brought back to nothing, and all will flow on at random with no guiding head; or if there is any universal aim, it will be the sum of all good."
"Great is my rejoicing, my son/' said she, "for you have set firmly in your mind the mark of the central truth. And hereby is made plain to you that which you a short time ago said that you knew not."
"What was that?"
"What was the final aim of all things," she said, "for that is plainly what is desired by all: since we have agreed that that is the good, we must confess that the good is the end of all things.
"If any man makes search for truth with all his penetration, and would be led astray by no deceiving paths, let him turn upon himself the light of an inward gaze, let him bend by force the long-drawn wanderings of his thoughts into one circle; let him tell surely to his soul, that he has, thrust away within the treasures of his mind, all that he labours to acquire without. Then shall that truth, which now was hid in error's darkening cloud, shine forth more clear than Phcebus's self. For the body, though it brings material mass which breeds forgetfulness, has never driven forth all light from the mind. The seed of truth does surely cling within, and can be roused as a spark by the fanning of philosophy. For if it is not so, The Consolation of Philosophy 69 how do ye men make answers true of your own instinct when teachers question you? Is it not that the quick spark of truth lies buried in the heart's low depths? And if the Muse of Plato sends through those depths the voice of truth, each man has not forgotten and is but reminding himself of what he learns." 1 When she made an end, I said, "I agree very strongly with Plato; for this is the second time that you have reminded me of these thoughts. The first time I had lost them through the material influence of the body; the second, when overwhelmed by this weight of trouble."
{Philosophy shews that God rules the universe for the highest good.)
"If," said she, "you look back upon what we have agreed upon earlier, you will also soon recall what you just now said you knew not."
"What is that?" I asked.
"The guidance by which the universe is directed."
"Yes, I remember confessing my ignorance, and though 1 think I foresee the answer you will offer, I am eager to hear you explain it more fully."
"This world," she said, "you thought a little while ago must without doubt be guided by God."
"And I think so now," I said, "and will never think there is any doubt thereof; and I will shortly explain by what rea- soning I arrive at that point. This universe would never have been suitably put together into one form from such various and opposite parts, unless there were some One who joined such different parts together; and when joined, the very variety of their natures, so discordant among themselves, would break their harmony and tear them asunder unless the One held to- gether what it wove into one whole. Such a fixed order of nature could not continue its course, could not develop motions taking such various directions in place, time, operation, space, and attributes, unless there were One who, being immutable, had the disposal of these various changes. And this cause of 1 Plato's doctrine of remembrance is chiefly treated of in his Phcedo and Meno.
7O Boethius their remaining fixed and their moving, I call God, according to the name familiar to all."
Then said she, "Since these are your feelings, I think there is but little trouble left me before you may revisit your home with happiness in your grasp. But let us look into the matter we have set before ourselves. Have we not shewn that com- plete satisfaction exists in true happiness, and we have agreed that God is happiness itself, have we not?"
"We have."
"Wherefore He needs no external aid in governing the uni- verse, or, if He had any such need, He would not have this complete sufficiency."
"That of necessity follows," I said.
"Then He arranges all things by Himself."
"Without doubt He does."
"And God has been shewn to be the absolute good."
"Yes, I remember."
"Then He arranges all things by good, if He arranges them by Himself, whom we have agreed to be the absolute good. And so this is the tiller and rudder by which the ship of the universe is kept sure and unbreakable."
"I feel that most strongly," I said; "and I foresaw that you would say so before, though I had a slight uncertainty."
"I believe you," she said, "for now you bring your eyes more watchfully to scan the truth. But what I am going to say is no less plain to the sight."
"What is that?"
"Since we may reasonably be sure that God steers all things by the helm of goodness, and, as I have shewn you, all things have a natural instinct to hasten towards the good, can there be any doubt that they are guided according to their own will: and that of their own accord they turn to the will of the supreme disposer, as though agreeing with, and obedient to, the helmsman?"
"That is so," I said, "and the government would not seem happy if it was a yoke upon discontented necks, and not the salvation of the submissive."
The Consolation of Philosophy 71 "Then nothing need oppose God's way for its own nature's preservation."
"No."
"But if it try to oppose Him, will it ever have any success at all against One whom we have justly allowed to be supreme- ly powerful in matters of happiness?"
"Certainly not."
"Then there is nothing which could have the will or the power to resist the highest good?"
"I think not."
"Then it is the highest good which is guiding with strength and disposing with gentleness?"
Then said I, "How great pleasure these things give me! Not only those which have been proved by the strongest argu- ments, but still more the words in which you prove them, which make me ashamed that my folly has bragged so loudly."
"You have heard in mythology how the giants attacked heaven. It was this kindly strength which overthrew them too, as was their desert. But would you care to put these arguments at variance? For perhaps from such a friction, some fair spark of truth may leap forth."
"As you hold best," I said.
"Nobody would care to doubt that God is all-powerful?"
"At any rate, no sane man would doubt it."
"Being, then, all-powerful, nothing is beyond His power?"
"Nothing."
"Can, then, God do evil?"
"No."
"Then evil is nothing, since it is beyond His power, and nothing is beyond His power?"
"Are you playing with me," I asked, "weaving arguments as a labyrinth out of which I shall find no way? You may enter a labyrinth by the way by which you may come forth: come now forth by the way you have gone in: or are you folding your reason in some wondrous circle of divine simplicity? A little while ago you started from happiness, and said that hap- piness was the highest good; and you shewed how that rested 72 Boethius in the highest Deity. And you reasoned that God too was the highest good, and the fullest happiness; and you allowed, as though granting a slight gift, that none could be happy except such as were similarly divine. Again, you said that the essence of God and of happiness was identical with the very form of good; and that that alone was good which was sought by all nature. And you argued, too, that God guided this universe by the helm of goodness; and that all creatures with free will obeyed this guidance, and that there was no such thing as natural evil; and all these things you developed by no help from without, but by homely and internal proofs, each gaining its credence from that which went before it."
Then she answered, "I was not mocking you. We have worked out the greatest of all matters by the grace of God, to whom we prayed. For the form of the divine essence is such that it is not diffused without, nor receives aught into itself from without. But as Parmenides says of it, "It is a mass well rounded upon all sides." * But if you examine it with reason- ing, sought for not externally but by lying within the sphere of the very thing we are handling, you will not wonder at what you have learnt on Plato's authority, 2 that our language must be akin to the subjects of which we speak.
"Happy the man who could reach the crystal fount of good: happy he who could shake off the chains of matter and of earth. The singer of Thrace in olden time lamented his dead wife: by his tearful strains he made the trees to follow him, and bound the flowing streams to stay: for him the hind would fearlessly go side by side with fiercest lions, and the hare would 1 This is a verse from the poems in which Parmenides embodied his philosophy: this was the doctrine of the unity which must have been in Boethius's mind above. Parmenides, the founder of the Eleatic school (495 B.C.), was perhaps, considering his early date, the greatest and most original of Greek philosophers. Boethius probably did not make a clear distinction between the philosopher's own poems and the views expressed in Plato's Parmenides.
8 Plato in the Timaus says, "The language must also be akin to the subjects of which its words are the interpreters" (29 B.).
The Consolation of Philosophy 73 look upon the hound, nor be afraid, for he was gentle under the song's sway. But when the hotter flame burnt up his inmost soul, even the strains, which had subdued all other things, could not soothe their own lord's mind. Complaining of the hard hearts of the gods above, he dared approach the realms below. There he tuned his songs to soothing tones, and sang the lays he had drawn from his mother's 1 fount of excellence. His unrestrained grief did give him power, his love redoubled his grief's power: his mourning moved the depths of hell. With gentlest prayers he prayed to the lords of the shades for grace. The three-headed porter 2 was taken captive with amazement at his fresh songs. The avenging goddesses, 3 who haunt with fear the guilty, poured out sad tears. Ixion's 4 wheel no longer swiftly turned. Tantalus, 5 so long abandoned unto thirst, could then despise the flowing stream. The vulture, satisfied by his strains, tore not a while at Tityos's heart. At last the lord of the shades 7 in pity cried: "We are conquered; take your bride with you, bought by your song; but one condition binds our gift: till she has left these dark abodes, turn not your eyes upon her." Who shall set a law to lovers? Love is a greater law unto itself. Alack! at the very bounds of darkness Orpheus looked upon his Eurydice; looked, and lost her, and was lost himself. "To you too this tale refers; you, who seek to lead your thoughts to the light above. For whosoever is overcome of de- sire, and turns his gaze upon the darkness 'neath the earth, he, while he looks on hell, loses the prize he carried off."
1 Orpheus's mother was the Muse Calliope, mistress of the Castalian fount.
2 The dog Cerberus.
3 The Furies.
4 Ixion for his crimes was bound upon a rolling wheel.
6 Tantalus for his crimes was condemned to perpetual hunger and thirst though surrounded by fruits and water which ever eluded his grasp.
Tityos for his crimes was for ever fastened to the ground, while a vulture devoured his entrails.
7 Pluto.
BOOK FOUR (They discuss the possibility of evil in God's world.)
THUS gently sang the Lady Philosophy with dignified mien and grave countenance; and when she ceased, I, who had not thoroughly forgotten the grief within me, interrupted her as she was about to speak further. "Herald of true light," I said, "right clear have been the outpourings of your speech till now, seeming inspired as one contemplates them, and invincible through your reasonings. And though through grief for the injustices I suffer, I had forgotten them, yet you have not spoken of what I knew not at all before. But this one thing is the chief cause of my grief, namely that, when there exists a good governor of the world, evils should exist at all, or, exist- ing, should go unpunished. I would have you think how strange is this fact alone. But there is an even stranger attached there- to: ill-doing reigns and flourishes, while virtue not only lacks its reward, but is even trampled underfoot by wicked doers, and pays the penalties instead of crime. Who can wonder and complain enough that such things should happen under the rule of One who, while all-knowing and all-powerful, wills good alone?"
Then she answered: "Yes, it would be most terrible, mon- strous, and infinitely amazing if it were as you think. It would be as though in a well-ordered house of a good master, the vilest vessels were cared for while the precious were left de- filed. But it is not so. If our former conclusions are unshaken, God Himself, of whose government we speak, will teach you that the good are always powerful, the evil are always the lowest and weakest; vice never goes unpunished; virtue never goes without its own reward; happiness comes to the good, misfortune to the wicked: and when your complaints are set 74 The Consolation of Philosophy 75 at rest, many such things would most firmly strengthen you in this opinion. You have seen now from my teaching the form of true happiness; you know now its place: let us go quickly through all that must be lightly passed over, and let me shew you the road which shall lead you to your home. I will give wings to your mind, by which it shall raise itself aloft: so shall disquiet be driven away, and you may return safe to your home by my guidance, by the path I shall shew you, even by myself carrying you thither.
"Yea, airy wings are mine to scale the heights of heaven; when these the mind has donned, swiftly she loathes and spurns this earth. She soars above the sphere of this vast atmosphere, sees the clouds behind her far; she passes high above the topmost fires which seethe above the feverish tur- moil of the air, 1 until she rises to the stars' own home, and joins her path unto the sun's; or accompanies on her path the cold and ancient Saturn, maybe as the shining warrior Mars; or she may take her course through the circle of every star that decks the night. And when she has had her fill of journey- ing, then may she leave the sky and tread the outer plane of the swift moving air, as mistress of the awful light. Here holds the King of Kings His sway, and guides the reins of the uni- verse, and Himself unmoved He drives His winged chariot, the bright disposer of the world. And if this path brings thee again hither, the path that now thy memory seeks to recall, I tell thee, thou shalt say, 'This is my home, hence was I de- rived, here shall I stay my course.' But if thou choose to look back upon the earthly night behind thee, thou shalt see as exiles from light the tyrants whose grimness made wretched peoples so to fear."
"Wondrous," I cried; "what vast things do you promise! And I doubt not that you can fulfil them. I only beg that you lr This and some of the following lines allude to some of the theories of the early Physicists.
76 Boethius will not hold me back with delays, now that you have excited me thus far."
(Philosophy argues that the good are powerful, the bad are weak.)
"First, then, you must learn that power is never lacking to the good, while the wicked are devoid of all strength. The proofs of these two statements hang upon each other. For good and bad are opposites, and therefore, if it is allowed that good is powerful, the weakness of evil is manifest: if the weakness and uncertainty of evil is made plain, the strength and sureness of good is proved. To gain more full credit for my opinion, I will go on to make my argument sure by first the one, then the other of the two paths, side by side.
"It is allowed that there are two things upon which depend the entire operation of human actions: they are will and power. For if the will be wanting, a man does not even attempt that which he has no desire to perform; if the power be wanting, the will is exercised in vain. Wherefore, if you see a man wish for that which he will in no wise gain, you cannot doubt that he lacks the power to attain that which he wishes."
"That is plain beyond doubt."
"And if you see a man gain that which he wishes, can you doubt that he has the power?"
"No."
"But wherein a man has power, he is strong; wherein he has not power, he must be counted weak?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember that we agreed from our earlier rea- sonings, that the instinct of all human will, though acted upon by different aims, does lead with eagerness towards happi- ness?"
"Yes," said I, "I remember that that too was proved."
"Do you remember that happiness is the absolute good, and that the good is desired of all, when in that manner happiness is sought?"
"I need not recall that," I said, "since it is present fixedly in my memory."
The Consolation oj Philosophy 77 "Then all men, good and bad alike, seek to arrive at the good by no different instincts?"
"Yes, that follows necessarily."
"But it is certain that the good become so by the attain- ment of good?"
"Yes."
"Then the good attain that which they wish?"
"Yes," said I, "it seems so."
"But if evil men attain the good they seek, they cannot be evil?"
"No."
"Since, then, both classes seek the good, which the good attain, but the evil attain not, it is plain that the good are powerful, while the evil are weak?"
"If any doubt that, he cannot judge by the nature of the world, nor by the sequence of arguments."
Again she said, "If there are two persons before whom the same object is put by natural instinct, and one person carries his object through, working by his natural functions, but the other cannot put his natural instinct into practice, but using some function unsuitable to nature he can imitate the success- ful person, but not fulfil his original purpose, in this case, which of the two do you decide to be the more capable?"
"I think I guess what you mean, but I would hear more explicitly."
"You will not, I think, deny that the motion of walking is a natural one to mankind?"
"No, I will not."
"And is not that the natural function of the feet?"
"Yes."
"If, then, one man walks, being able to advance upon his feet, while another, who lacks the natural function of feet, uses his hands and so tries to walk, which of these two may justly be held the more capable?"
"Weave me other riddles!" I exclaimed, "for can any one doubt that a man who enjoys his natural functions, is more capable than one who is incapable in that respect?"
78 Boethius "But in the case of the highest good," she said, "it is equally the purpose set before good and bad men; good men seek it by the natural functions of virtue, while bad men seek to attain the same through their cupidity, which is not a natural func- tion for the attainment of good. Think you not so?"
"I do indeed," said 1; "this is plain, as also is the deduction which follows. For it must be, from what I have already al- lowed, that the good are powerful, the wicked weak."
"Your anticipation is right; and as doctors are wont to hope, it shews a lively nature now fit to withstand disease. But I see that you are very ready in understanding, and I will multiply my arguments one upon another. See how great is the weakness of these wicked men who cannot even attain that to which their natural instinct leads them, nay, almost drives them. And further, how if they are deprived of this great, this almost invincible, aid of a natural instinct to fol- low? Think what a powerlessness possesses these men. They are no light objects which they seek; they seek no objects in sport, objects which it is impossible that they should achieve. They fail in the very highest of all things, the crown of all, and in this they find none of the success for which they labour day and night in wretchedness. But herein the strength of good men is conspicuous. If a man could advance on foot till he arrived at an utmost point beyond which there was no path for further advance, you would think him most capable of walking: equally so, if a man grasps the very end and aim of his search, you must think him most capable. Wherefore also the contrary is true; that evil men are similarly deprived of all strength. For why do they leave virtue and follow after vice? Is it from ignorance of good? Surely not, for what is weaker or less compelling than the blindness of ignorance? Do they know what they ought to follow, and are they thrown from the straight road by passions? Then they must be weak too in self-control if they cannot struggle with their evil pas- sions. But they lose thus not only power, but existence all together. For those who abandon the common end of all who exist, must equally cease to exist. And this may seem strange, The Consolation of Philosophy 79 that we should say that evil men, though the majority of mankind, do not exist at all; but it is so. For while I do not deny that evil men are evil, I do deny that they 'are/ in the sense of absolute existence. You may say, for instance, that a corpse is a dead man, but you cannot call it a man. In a like manner, though I grant that wicked men are bad, I cannot allow that they are men at all, as regards absolute being. A thing exists which keeps its proper place and preserves its nature; but when anything falls away from its nature, its existence too ceases, for that lies in its nature. You will say, 'Evil men are capable of evil': and that I would not deny. But this very power of theirs comes not from strength, but from weakness. They are capable of evil; but this evil would have no efficacy if it could have stayed under the operation of good men. And this very power of ill shews the more plainly that their power is naught. For if, as we have agreed, evil is nothing, then, since they are only capable of evil, they are capable of nothing."
"That is quite plain."
"I would have you understand what is this strength of power. We have a little while ago laid down that nothing is more powerful than the highest good?"
"Yes," I said.
"But the highest good can do no evil?"
"No."
"Is there any one who thinks that men are all-powerful?"
"No one," I said, "unless he be mad."
"And yet those same men can do evil."
"Would to heaven they could not!" I cried.
"Then a powerful man is capable only of all good; but even those who are capable of evil, are not capable of all: so it is plain that those who are capable of evil, are capable of less. Further, we have shewn that all power is to be counted among objects of desire, and all objects of desire have their relation to the good, as to the coping-stone of their nature. But the power of committing crime has no possible relation to the good. Therefore it is not an object of desire. Yet, as 8o Boethius we said, all power is to be desired. Therefore the power of doing evil is no power at all. For all these reasons the power of good men and the weakness of evil men is apparent. So Plato's opinion 1 is plain that 'the wise alone are able to do what they desire, but unscrupulous men can only labour at what they like, they cannot fulfil their real desires.' They do what they like so long as they think that they will gain through their pleasures the good which they desire; but they do not gain it, since nothing evil ever reaches happiness.
"Kings you may see sitting aloft upon their thrones, gleam- ing with purple, hedged about with grim guarding weapons, threatening with fierce glances, and their hearts heaving with passion. If any man take from these proud ones their outward covering of empty honour, he will see within, will see that these great ones bear secret chains. For the heart of one is thus filled by lust with the poisons of greed, or seething rage lifts up its waves and lashes his mind therewith: or gloomy grief holds them weary captives, or by slippery hopes they are tortured. So when you see one head thus labouring beneath so many tyrants, you know he cannot do as he would, for by hard task-masters is the master himself oppressed.
(The good and the evil have their own rewards.) "Do you see then in what a slough crimes are involved, and with what glory honesty shines forth? It is plain from this that reward is never lacking to good deeds, nor punishment to crime. We may justly say that the reward of every act which is performed is the object for which it is performed. For in- stance, on the racecourse the crown for which the runner strives is his reward. But we have shewn that happiness is 1 From Plato's Gorgias (466). Boethius in this and several other pas- sages in this book has the Gorgias in mind; for Plato there discusses the strength and happiness of good men, and the impotence and unhappi- ness of bad men. Socrates is also there represented as proving that the unjust man is happier punished than unpunished, as Boethius does below.
The Consolation of Philosophy 81