and therefore free will is not in any way shackled by fore- knowledge. 1 Whence do you draw your proof of the necessity of future results if not from the fact that such things as are known beforehand cannot but come to pass? If, then (as you yourself admitted just now), foreknowledge brings no neces- sity to bear upon future events, how is it that the voluntary results of such events are bound to find a fixed end? Now for the sake of the argument, that you may turn your atten- tion to what follows, let us state that there is no foreknowl- edge at all. Then are the events which are decided by free will, bound by any necessity, so far as this goes? Of course not. Secondly, let us state that foreknowledge exists, but brings no necessity to bear upon events; then, I think, the same free will will be left, intact and absolute. 'But/ you will say, 'though foreknowledge is no necessity for a result in the future, yet it is a sign that it will necessarily come to pass.' Thus, therefore, even if there had been no foreknowl- edge, it would be plain that future results were under neces- sity; for every sign can only shew what it is that it points out; it does not bring it to pass. Wherefore we must first prove that nothing happens but of necessity, in order that it may be plain that foreknowledge is a sign of this necessity. Other- wise, if there is no necessity, then foreknowledge will not be a sign of that which does not exist. Now it is allowed that proof rests upon firm reasoning, not upon signs or external arguments; it must be deduced from suitable and binding causes. How can it possibly be that things, which are foreseen as about to happen, should not occur? That would be as though we were to believe that events would not occur which Providence foreknows as about to occur, and as though we did not rather think this, that though they occur, yet they have had no necessity in their own natures which brought them about. We can see many actions developing before our eyes; just as chariot drivers see the development of their actions as they control and guide their chariots, and many 1 Referring to Boethius's words on p. 104.
no Boethius other things likewise. Does any necessity compel any of those things to occur as they do? Of course not. All art, craft, and intention would be in vain, if everything took place by com- pulsion. Therefore, if things have no necessity for coming to pass when they do, they cannot have any necessity to be about to come to pass before they do. Wherefore there are things whose results are entirely free from necessity. For I think not that there is any man who will say this t that things, which are done in the present, were not about to be done in the past, before they are done. Thus these foreknown events have their free results. Just as foreknowledge of present things brings no necessity to bear upon them as they come to pass, so also foreknowledge of future things brings no necessity to bear upon things which are to come.
"But you will say that there is no doubt of this too, whether there can be any foreknowledge of things which have not results bounden by necessity. For they do seem to lack har- mony: and you think that if they are foreseen, the necessity follows; if there is no necessity, then they cannot be foreseen; nothing can be perceived certainly by knowledge, unless it be certain. But if things have uncertainty of result, but are foreseen as though certain, this is plainly the obscurity of opinion, and not the truth of knowledge. For you believe that to think aught other than it is, is the opposite of true knowledge. The cause of this error is that every man believes that all the subjects, that he knows, are known by their own force or nature alone, which are known; but it is quite the opposite. For every subject, that is known, is comprehended not according to its own force, but rather according to the nature of those who know it. Let me make this plain to you by a brief example: the roundness of a body may be known in one way by sight, in another way by touch. Sight can take in the whole body at once from a distance by judging its radii, while touch clings, as it were, to the outside of the sphere, and from close at hand perceives through the material parts the roundness of the body as it passes over the actual circum- The Consolation of Philosophy 1 1 1 ference. A man himself is differently comprehended by the senses, by imagination, by reason, and by intelligence. For the senses distinguish the form as set in the matter operated upon by the form; imagination distinguishes the appearance alone without the matter. Reason goes even further than imagination; by a general and universal contemplation it investigates the actual kind which is represented in individual specimens. Higher still is the view of the intelligence, which reaches above the sphere of the universal, and with the un- sullied eye of the mind gazes upon that very form of the kind in its absolute simplicity. Herein the chief point for our con- sideration is this: the higher power of understanding includes the lower, but the lower never rises to the higher. For the senses are capable of understanding naught but the matter; imagination cannot look upon universal or natural kinds; reason cannot comprehend the absolute form; whereas the intelligence seems to look down from above and comprehend the form, and distinguishes all that lie below, but in such a way that it grasps the very form which could not be known to any other than itself. For it perceives and knows the gen- eral kind, as does reason; the appearance, as does the imagina- tion; and the matter, as do the senses, but with one grasp of the mind it looks upon all with a clear conception of the whole. And reason too, as it views general kinds, does not make use of the imagination nor the senses, but yet does per- ceive the objects both of the imagination and of the senses. It is reason which thus defines a general kind according to its conception: Man, for instance, is an animal, biped and rea- soning. This is a general notion of a natural kind, but no man denies that the subject can be approached by the imagination and by the senses, just because reason investigates it by a reasonable conception and not by the imagination or senses. Likewise, though imagination takes its beginning of seeing and forming appearances from the senses yet without their aid it surveys each subject by an imaginative faculty of dis- tinguishing, not by the distinguishing faculty of the senses.
ii2 Boethius "Do you see then, how in knowledge of all things, the sub- ject uses its own standard of capability, and not those of the objects known? And this is but reasonable, for every judg- ment formed is an act of the person who judges, and therefore each man must of necessity perform his own action from his own capability and not the capability of any other.
"In days of old the Porch at Athens 1 gave us men, seeing dimly as in old age, who could believe that the feelings of the senses and the imagination were but impressions on the mind from bodies without them, just as the old custom was to impress with swift-running pens letters upon the surface of a waxen tablet which bore no marks before. But if the mind with its own force can bring forth naught by its own exertions; if it does but lie passive and subject to the marks of other bodies; if it reflects, as does, forsooth, a mirror, the vain reflections of other things; whence thrives there in the soul an all-seeing power of knowledge? What is the force that sees the single parts, or which distinguishes the facts it knows? What is the force that gathers up the parts it has distin- guished, that takes its course in order due, now rises to mingle with the things on high, and now sinks down among the things below, and then to itself brings back itself, and, so examining, refutes the false with truth? This is a cause of greater power, of more effective force by far than that which only receives the impressions of material bodies. Yet does the passive re- ception come first, rousing and stirring all the strength of the mind in the living body. When the eyes are smitten with a light, or the ears are struck with a voice's sound, then is the spirit's energy aroused, and, thus moved, calls upon like forms, such as it holds within itself, fits them to signs without and mingles the forms of its imagination with those which it has stored within.
1 Zeno, of Citium (342-270 B.C.), the founder of the Stoic school, taught in the Stoa Poekile, whence the name of the school. The following lines refer to their doctrine of presentations and impressions.
The Consolation of Philosophy 113 (Human reasoning, being lower than divine intelligence, can at best only strive to approach thereto.)
"With regard to feeling the effects of bodies, natures which are brought into contact from without may affect the organs of the senses, and the body's passive affection may precede the active energy of the spirit, and call forth to itself the activity of the mind; if then, when the effects of bodies are felt, the mind is not marked in any way by its passive recep- tion thereof, but declares that reception subject to the body of its own force, how much less do those subjects, which are free from all affections of bodies, follow external objects in their perceptions, and how much more do they make clear the way for the action of their mind? By this argument many different manners of understanding have fallen to widely dif- ferent natures of things. For the senses are incapable of any knowledge but their own, and they alone fall to those living beings which are incapable of motion, as are sea shell-fish, and other low forms of life which live by clinging to rocks; while imagination is granted to animals with the power of motion, who seem to be affected by some desire to seek or avoid certain things. But reason belongs to the human race alone, just as the true intelligence is God's alone. Wherefore that mannei of knowledge is better than others, for it can comprehend ol its own nature not only the subject peculiar to itself, but also the subjects of the other kinds of knowledge. Suppose that the senses and imagination thus oppose reasoning, saying, The universal natural kinds, which reason believes that it can perceive, are nothing; for what is comprehensible to the senses and the imagination cannot be universal: therefore either the judgment of reason is true, and that which can be perceived by the senses is nothing; or, since reason knows well that there are many subjects comprehensible to the senses and imagination, the conception of reason is vain, for it holds to be universal what is an individual matter comprehensible to the senses.' To this reason might answer, that 'it sees from a general point of view what is comprehensible to the senses ii4 Boethius and the imagination, but they cannot aspire to a knowledge of universals, since their manner of knowledge cannot go further than material or bodily appearances; and in the mat- ter of knowledge it is better to trust to the stronger and more nearly perfect judgment. 7 If such a trial of argument oc- curred, should not we, who have within us the force of rea- soning as well as the powers of the senses and imagination, approve of the cause of reason rather than that of the others? Tt is in like manner that human reason thinks that the divine intelligence cannot perceive the things of the future except as it conceives them itself. For you argue thus: 'If there are events which do not appear to have sure or necessary results, their results cannot be known for certain beforehand: there- fore there can be no foreknowledge of these events; for if we believe that there is any foreknowledge thereof, there can exist nothing but such as is brought forth of necessity.' If therefore we, who have our share in possession of reason, could go further and possess the judgment of the mind of God, we should then think it most just that human reason should yield itself to the mind of God, just as we have determined that the senses and imagination ought to yield to reason.
"Let us therefore raise ourselves, if so be that we can, to that height of the loftiest intelligence. For there reason will see what it cannot of itself perceive, and that is to know how even such things as have uncertain results are perceived defi- nitely and for certain by foreknowledge; and such foreknowl- edge will not be mere opinion, but rather the single and direct form of the highest knowledge unlimited by any finite bounds.
"In what different shapes do living beings move upon the earth! Some make flat their bodies, sweeping through the dust and using their strength to make therein a furrow with- out break; some flit here and there upon light wings which beat the breeze, and they float through vast tracks of air in their easy flight. Tis others' wont to plant their footsteps on the ground, and pass with their paces over green fields or under trees. Though all these thou seest move in different The Consolation of Philosophy 115 shapes, yet all have their faces downward along the ground, and this doth draw downward and dull their senses. Alone of all, the human race lifts up its head on high, and stands in easy balance with the body upright, and so looks down to spurn the earth. If thou art not too earthly by an evil folly, this pose is as a lesson. Thy glance is upward, and thou dost carry high thy head, and thus thy search is heavenward: then lead thy soul too upward, lest while the body is higher raised, the mind sink lower to the earth.
(Philosophy explains that God's divine intelligence can view all things from its eternal mind, while human reason can only see them from a temporal point of view.)
"Since then all that is known is apprehended, as we just now shewed, not according to its own nature but according to the nature of the knower, let us examine, so far as we law- fully may, the character of the divine nature, so that we may be able to learn what its knowledge is.
"The common opinion, according to all men living, is that God is eternal. Let us therefore consider what is eternity. For eternity will, I think, make clear to us at the same time the divine nature and knowledge.
"Eternity is the simultaneous and complete possession of infinite life. This will appear more clearly if we compare it with temporal things. All that lives under the conditions of time moves through the present from the past to the future; there is nothing set in time which can at one moment grasp the whole space of its lifetime. It cannot yet comprehend to- morrow; yesterday it has already lost. And in this life of to-day your life is no more than a changing, passing moment. And as Aristotle 1 said of the universe, so it is of all that is subject to time; though it never began to be, nor will ever cease, and its life is co-extensive with the infinity of time, yet it is not such as can be held to be eternal. For though it appre- hends and grasps a space of infinite lifetime, it does not em- brace the whole simultaneously; it has not yet experienced the 1 Aristotle, De Colo, i.
n6 Bocthius future. What we should rightly call eternal is that which grasps and possesses wholly and simultaneously the fulness of unending life, which lacks naught of the future, and has lost naught of the fleeting past; and such an existence must be ever present in itself to control and aid itself, and also must keep present with itself the infinity of changing time. Therefore, people who hear that Plato thought that this uni- verse had no beginning of time and will have no end, are not right in thinking that in this way the created world is co-eternal with its creator. 1 For to pass through unending life, the attribute which Plato ascribes to the universe is one thing; but it is another thing to grasp simultaneously the whole of unending life in the present; this is plainly a peculiar property of the mind of God.
"And further, God should not be regarded as older than His creations by any period of time, but rather by the peculiar property of His own single nature. For the infinite changing of temporal things tries to imitate the ever simultaneously present immutability of His life: it cannot succeed in imitating or equalling this, but sinks from immutability into change, and falls from the single directness of the present into an infinite space of future and past. And since this temporal state cannot possess its life completely and simultaneously, but it does in the same manner exist for ever without ceasing, it therefore seems to try in some degree to rival that which it cannot fulfil or represent, for it binds itself to some sort of present time out of this small and fleeting moment; but inasmuch as this temporal present bears a certain appearance of that abiding 1 Boethius speaks of people who "hear that Plato thought, etc.," because this was the teaching of some of Plato's successors at the Academy. Plato himself thought otherwise, as may be seen in the Timaus, e.g. ch. xi. 38 B., "Time then has come into being along with the universe, that being generated together, together they may be dis- solved, should a dissolution of them ever come to pass; and it was made after the pattern of the eternal nature that it might be as like to it as possible. For the pattern is existent for all eternity, but the copy has been, and is, and shall be, throughout all time continually." (Mr. Archer Hind's translation.)
The Consolation of Philosophy 117 present, it somehow makes those, to whom it comes, seem to be in truth what they imitate. But since this imitation could not be abiding, the unending march of time has swept it away, and thus we find that it has bound together, as it passes, a chain of life, which it could not by abiding embrace in its fulness. And thus if we would apply proper epithets to those subjects, we can say, following Plato, that God is eternal, but the universe is continual.
"Since then all judgment apprehends the subjects of its thought according to its own nature, and God has a condition of ever-present eternity, His knowledge, which passes over every change of time, embracing infinite lengths of past and future, views in its own direct comprehension everything as though it were taking place in the present. If you would weigh the foreknowledge by which God distinguishes all things, you will more rightly hold it to be a knowledge of a never- failing constancy in the present, than a foreknowledge of the future. Whence Providence is more rightly to be understood as a looking forth than a looking forward, because it is set far from low matters and looks forth upon all things as from a lofty mountain-top above all. Why then do you demand that all things occur by necessity, if divine light rests upon them, while men do not render necessary such things as they can see? Because you can see things of the present, does your sight therefore put upon them any necessity? Surely not. If one may not unworthily compare this present time with the divine, just as you can see things in this your temporal pres- ent, so God sees all things in His eternal present. Wherefore this divine foreknowledge does not change the nature or in- dividual qualities of things: it sees things present in its under- standing just as they will result some time in the future. It makes no confusion in its distinctions, and with one view of its mind it discerns all that shall come to pass whether of necessity or not. For instance, when you see at the same time a man walking on the earth and the sun rising in the heavens, you see each sight simultaneously, yet you distinguish between them, and decide that one is moving voluntarily, the other n8 Boethius of necessity. In like manner the perception of God looks down upon all things without disturbing at all their nature, though they are present to Him but future under the conditions of time. Wherefore this foreknowledge is not opinion but knowl- edge resting upon truth, since He knows that a future event is, though He knows too that it will not occur of necessity. If you answer here that what God sees about to happen, cannot but happen, and that what cannot but happen is bound by necessity, you fasten me down to the word necessity, I will grant that we have a matter of most firm truth, but it is one to which scarce any man can approach unless he be a con- templator of the divine. For I shall answer that such a thing will occur of necessity, when it is viewed from the point of divine knowledge; but when it is examined in its own nature, it seems perfectly free and unrestrained. For there are two kinds of necessities; one is simple: for instance, a necessary fact, 'all men are mortal'; the other is conditional; for in- stance, if you know that a man is walking, he must be walking: for what each man knows cannot be otherwise than it is known to be; but the conditional one is by no means followed by this simple and direct necessity; for there is no necessity to compel a voluntary walker to proceed, though it is necessary that, if he walks, he should be proceeding. In the same way, if Providence sees an event in its present, that thing must be, though it has no necessity of its own nature. And God looks in His present upon those future things which come to pass through free will. Therefore if these things be looked at from the point of view of God's insight, they come to pass of neces- sity under the condition of divine knowledge; if, on the other hand, they are viewed by themselves, they do not lose the perfect freedom of their nature. Without doubt, then, all things that God foreknows do come to pass, but some of them proceed from free will; and though they result by coming into existence, yet they do not lose their own nature, because be- fore they came to pass they could also not have come to pass.
" 'What then/ you may ask, 4s the difference in their not being bound by necessity, since they result under all circum- The Consolation of Philosophy 119 stances as by necessity, on account of the condition of divine knowledge? 1 This is the difference, as I just now put forward: take the sun rising and a man walking; while these operations are occurring, they cannot but occur: but the one was bound to occur before it did; the other was not so bound. What God has in His present, does- exist without doubt; but of such things some follow by necessity, others by their authors' wills. Wherefore I was justified in saying that if these things be regarded from the view of divine knowledge, they are neces- sary, but if they are viewed by themselves, they are perfectly free from all ties of necessity: just as when you refer all, that is clear to the senses, to the reason, it becomes general truth, but it remains particular if regarded by itself. 'But/ you will say, 'if it is in my power to change a purpose of mine, I will disregard Providence, since I may change what Providence foresees.' To which I answer, 'You can change your purpose, but since the truth of Providence knows in its present that you can do so, and whether you do so, and in what direction you may change it, therefore you cannot escape that divine foreknowledge: just as you cannot avoid the glance of a present eye, though you may by your free will turn yourself to all kinds of different actions/ 'What?' you will say, 'can I by my own action change divine knowledge, so that if 1 choose now one thing, now another, Providence too will seem to change its knowledge?' No; divine insight precedes all future things, turning them back and recalling them to the present time of its own peculiar knowledge. It does not change, as you may think, between this and that alternation of fore- knowledge. It is constant in preceding and embracing by one glance all your changes. And God does not receive this ever- present grasp of all things and vision of the present at the occurrence of future events, but from His own peculiar di- rectness. Whence also is that difficulty solved which you laid down a little while ago, that it was not worthy to say that our future events were the cause of God's knowledge. For this power of knowledge, ever in the present and embracing all things in its perception, does itself constrain all things, and 120 Boethius owes naught to following events from which it has received naught. Thus, therefore, mortal men have their freedom of judgment intact. And since their wills are freed from all bind- ing necessity, laws do not set rewards or punishments unjustly. God is ever the constant foreknowing overseer, and the ever- present eternity of His sight moves in harmony with the future nature of our actions, as it dispenses rewards to the good, and punishments to the bad. Hopes are not vainly put in God, nor prayers in vain offered: if these are right, they cannot but be answered. Turn therefore from vice: ensue virtue: raise your soul to upright hopes: send up on high your prayers from this earth. If you would be honest, great is the necessity enjoined upon your goodness, since all you do is done before the eyes of an all-seeing Judge."
THE IMITATION OF CHRIST BY THOMAS A KEMPIS CONTENTS PART I CHAP. PAGE I. Of Following of Christ and Despising of all Worldly Vanities 130 II. Of Meek Knowing of a Man's Self 131 III. Of the Teaching of Truth 133 IV. Of Prudence in Man's Works 135 V. Of Reading of the Scriptures 136 VI. Of Inordinate Affections 136 VII. Of Fleeing from Vain Hope and Elation 137 VIII. Of Eschewing of too great Familiarity 138 IX. Of Obedience and Subjection 139 X. Of Eschewing Superfluity of Words 139 XI. Of Peace to be Gotten and Zeal for Profiting 140 XII. Of the Profit of Adversity 142 XIII. Of Withstanding of Temptation 143 XIV. Of Fleeing Rash Judgment 145 XV. Of Works done in Charity 146 XVI. Of Bearing other Men's Infirmities and Faults 147 XVII. Of the Religious Life 148 XVIII. Of the Examples of the Holy Fathers 149 XIX. Of the Exercises of a Good Religious Man 150 XX. Of Love of Silence and to be Alone 1 53 XXI. Of Compunction of Heart 156 XXII. Of Consideration of Man's Misery 157 XXIII. Of Meditation of Death 160 XXIV. Of the Judgment and of the Pains of Sinners 1 63 XXV. Of the Fervent Amendment of all of a Man's Life 166 123 124 Thomas a Kempis PART II CHAP. PAGE I. Of Inward Conversation 170 II. Of Meek Submission 172 III. Of a Good Peaceable Man 173 IV. Of Pure and Simple Intention 174 V. Of Consideration of Oneself 175 VI. Of the Gladness of a Good Conscience 176 VII. Of the Love of Jesu above all Things 178 VIII. Of the Familiar Friendship of Jesu 179 IX. Of Lacking of all Manner of Solace 181 X. Of Thanks for the Grace of God 183 XI. Of the Fewness of the Lovers of the Cross of Christ 185 XII. Of the King's Highway of the Cross 187 PART III I. Of the Inward Speaking of Christ unto a True Soul 192 II. That the Words of God are to be heard with Meekness 193 III. That the Words of God are to be heard with Meekness 194 IV. A Prayer to ask Grace of Devotion 195 V. That a Man ought to live before God in Truth and in Meekness 196 VI. Of the Wonderful Effect of the Love of God 1 98 VII. Of Proving of True Love 200 VIII. Of Grace to be hid under the Word of Meekness 202 IX. Of Vile Estimation of Oneself in the Sight of God 204 The Imitation of Christ 125 CHAP. PAGE X. That all Things are to be referred to God as to the last end 205 XI. That, the World despised, it is merry and sweet for to serve God 206 XII. That the Desires of the Heart must be ex- amined and modered (moderated) 208 XIII. Of the learning of Patience and fighting against Concupiscence 209 XIV. Of Obedience of a Meek Subject by Ensample of our Lord Jesu 210 XV. Of Considering the Privy Judgments of God against Pride 211 XVI. How a Man shall stand in everything de- sired 213 XVII. A Prayer to do the Will of God 2 14 XVIII. That True Solace is to be sought in God alone 214 XIX. That all Business is to be set in God 215 XX. That Temporal Miseries are to be suffered