Boethius
Selections from
The Consolation of Philosophy
Book 1
I who once wrote songs with keen delight am now by sorrow driven to take up melancholy measures. Wounded Muses tell me what I must write, and elegiac verses bathe my face with real tears. Not even terror could drive from me these faithful companions of my long journey. Poetry, which was once the glory of my happy and flourishing youth, is still my comfort in this misery of my old age.
Old age has come too soon with its evils, and sorrow has commanded me to enter the age which is hers. My hair is prematurely gray, and slack skin shakes on my exhausted body. Death, happy to men when she does not intrude in the sweet years, but comes when often called in sorrow, turns a deaf ear to the wretched and cruelly refuses to close weeping eyes.
The sad hour that has nearly drowned me came just at the time that faithless Fortune favored me with her worthless gifts. Now that she has clouded her deceitful face, my accursed life seems to go on endlessly. My friends, why did you so often think me happy? Any man who has fallen never stood securely.
Lady Philosophy appears to him and drives away the Muses of poetry.
While I silently pondered these things, and decided to write down my wretched complaint, there appeared standing above me a woman of majestic countenance whose flashing eyes seemed wise beyond the ordinary wisdom of men. Her color was bright, suggesting boundless vigor, and yet she seemed so merely accustom them to it. I would find it easier to bear if old that she could not be thought of as belonging to our age. Her height seemed to vary: sometimes she seemed to tough the top of the heavens. And when she raised herself to full height she penetrated heaven itself, beyond the vision of human eyes. Her clothing was made of the most delicate threads, and by the most exquisite workmanship; it had—as she afterwards told me—been woven by her own hands into an everlasting fabric. Her clothes had been darkened in color somewhat by neglect and the passage of time, as happens to pictures exposed to smoke. At the lower edge of her robe was woven a Greek II, at the top the letter ð, and between them were seen clearly marked stages, like stairs, ascending from the lowest level to the highest. This robe had been torn, however, by the hands of violent men, who had ripped away what they could. In her hand, the woman held certain books; in her left hand, a scepter.
When she saw the Muses of poetry standing beside my bed and consoling me with their words, she was momentarily upset and glared at them with burning eyes. “Who let these whores from the theater come to the beside of this sick man?” she said. “They cannot offer medicine for his sorrows; they will nourish him only with their sweet poison. They kill the fruitful harvest of reason with the sterile thorns of the passions; they do not liberate the minds of men from disease, but merely accustom them to it. I would find it easier to bear if your flattery had, as it usually does, seduced some ordinary dull-witted man; in that case, it would have been no concern of mine. But this man has been educated in the philosophical schools of the Eleatics and the Academy. Get out, you Sirens; your sweetness leads to death. Leave him to be cured and made strong by my Muses.”
And so the defeated Muses, shamefaced and with downcast eyes, went sadly away. My sigh was so dimmed by tears that I could not tell who this women of imperious authority might be, and I lay there astonished, my eyes staring at the earth, silently waiting to see what she would do. She came nearer and sat at the foot of my bed. When she noticed my grief-stricken, downcast face, she reproved my anxiety with this song.
The serene man who has ordered his life stands above menacing fate and unflinchingly faces good and bad fortune. This virtuous man can hold up his head unconquered. The threatening and raging ocean storms which churn the waves cannot shake him; nor can the bursting furnace of Vesuvius, aimlessly throwing out its smoky fire; nor the fiery bolts of lightening which can topple the highest towers. Why then are we wretched, frightened by fierce tyrants who rage without the power to harm us? He who hoped for nothing and fears nothing can disarm the fury of these impotent men; but he who is burdened by fears and desires is not master of himself. He throws away his shield and retreats; he fastens the chain by which he will be drawn.
Boethius gives an account of his public career and especially of the causes of his present misery.
“Do you understand what I have told you,” Philosophy asked; “have my words impressed you at all, or are you ‘like the ass which cannot hear the lyre’? Why are you crying? Speak out, don’t hide what troubles you. If you want a doctor’s help, you must uncover your wound.”
I pulled myself together and answered: “Do I have to explain; isn’t the misery of my misfortune evident enough? I should think this place alone would make you pity me. Compare this prison with my library at home which you chose as your own and in which you often discussed with me the knowledge of human and divine things. Did I look like this? Was I dressed this way when I studied nature’s mysteries with you, when you mapped the courses of the stars for me with your geometer’s rod, when you formed my moral standards and my whole view of life according to the norm of the heavenly order? Are these miseries the rewards your servants should expect? You yourself proposed the course I have followed when you made Plato say that civil governments would be good if wise men were appointed rulers, or if those appointed to rule would study wisdom. Further, you decreed in the words of the same philosopher that government of the commonwealth ought to be in the hands of wise men; that if it should be left to unscrupulous and wicked men, they would bring about the ruin of the good.
“On this authority, I decided to apply to public administration the principles I had learned privately from you. You, and God who gave you to the minds of wise men, know that I became a magistrate only because of the unanimous wish of all good men. For these reasons I have become involved in grave and hopeless trouble with dishonest men; and, as always happens to the administrator of independent conscience, I have had to be willing to make powerful enemies in the interest of safeguarding justice.
“I have often opposed the greed of Conigastus in his swindling of the poor. I have condemned the crimes of Triguilla, Provost of the King’s house, both in their beginnings and after they had been committed. At grave risk to my position I have protected the weak from the lies and avarice of cruel men in power. No man ever corrupted my administration of justice. I was as depressed as those who suffered the losses when I saw the wealth of our citizens dissipated either by private fraud or oppressive taxation. At the time of the severe famine, when prices were set so exorbitantly high that the province of Campania seemed about to starve, I carried on the people’s fight against the Praetorian Prefect himself and, with the King’s approval, I won—the fixed prices were not enforced.
“I saved Paulinus, the former Consul, from the howling dogs of the court who hoped to devour his wealth. In order to save Albinus, another former Consul, from unjust punishment, I risked the hatred of his accuser, Cyprian. One would think I had stirred up enough opposition. But I ought to have been defended by others, especially since, through devotion to justice, I had given up the favor of the courtiers who might have saved me. But who were the accusers who overthrew me? One of them was Basil who had earlier been expelled from the King’s service and was now forced by his debts to testify against me. My other accusers were Opilio and Gaudentius, also men banished by royal decree for their many corrupt practices. They tried to avoid exile by taking sanctuary, but when the Kind heard of it he decreed that, if they did not leave Ravenna by a certain day, they should be branded on the forehead and forcibly expelled. How could the King’s judgement have been more severe? And yet on that very day their testimony against me was accepted. Why should this have happened? Did I deserve it? Did their criminal records make them just accusers? Fortune ought to have been shamed, if not by the innocence of the accused, then at last by the villainy of the accusers.
“Finally, what am I accused of? They say I desired the safety of the Senate. But how? I am convicted of having hindered their accuser from giving evidence that the Senate is guilty of treason. What is your judgment, my teacher? Shall I deny the charge in order to avoid shaming you? But I did desire to protect the Senate, and I always will. And how can I confess, since I have already stopped hindering their accuser? Shall I consider it a crime to have supported the integrity of the Senate? It is true that the Senate itself, by its decrees against me, has made my position a crime. But folly, driven by self-deception, cannot change the merits of the case; nor, following the rule of Socrates, can I think it right either to hide the truth or concede a lie. I leave it to you, and to the judgment of the wise, whether my course of action is right. I have put this in writing so that posterity may know the truth and have a record of these events.
“Why should I even mention the spurious letters in which I am charged with having hoped for Roman liberty? That fraud would have been exposed had I been permitted to use the confession of my accusers, the strongest evidence in any case. But there is now no hope for freedom of any kind—I only wish there were. I should have answered in the words of Canius when Gaius Casesar, son of Germanicus, accused Canius of having known of a conspiracy against him: ‘If I had known of it,’ Canius said, ‘you would never have known.’ But I am not so discouraged by what has happened to me that I complain now of the attacks of wicked men against virtue; the reason for my surprise is that they have accomplished what they set out to do. The desire to do evil may be due to human weakness; but for the wicked to overcome the innocent in the sight of God—that is monstrous. I cannot blame that friend of yours who said, ‘If there is a God, why is there evil? And if there is no God, how can there be good?’ It is not surprising that evil men, who want to destroy all just men, and the Senate too, should try to overthrow one who stood up for justice and the Senate. But surely I did not deserve the same treatment from the Senators themselves.
“You remember well that you always directed me in everything I said and everything I tried to do or say. You recall, for example, the time at Verona when the King wanted to overturn the government and tried to involve the whole Senate in the treason of which Albinus was accused; then, at great risk to my personal safety I defended the innocence of the whole Senate. You know that this is true, and that I have never acted out of a desire for praise; for integrity of conscience is somehow spoiled when a man advertises what he has done and receives the reward of public recognition. But you see where my innocence has brought me; instead of being rewarded for true virtue, I am falsely punished as a criminal. Even the full confession of a crime does not usually make all the judges in the case equally severe; some, at least, temper their severity by recognizing the errors of human judgment and the uncertain conditions of fortune to which all mortals are subject. If I had been accused of plotting the burning of churches, the murder of priests, event the murder of all good men, even then I would have been sentenced only after I had confessed and been convicted, and when I was present before the court. But now, five hundred miles away, mute and defenseless, I am condemned to proscription and death because of my concern for the safety of the Senate. The Senate deserves that no one should ever again be convicted for such a ‘crime’!
“Even my accusers understood the honor implicit in the charges they brought against me, and, in order to confuse the issue by the appearance of some crime, they falsely alleged that I had corrupted my conscience with sacrilege out of a desire for advancement. But your spirit, alive within me, had driven from my soul all sordid desire for earthly success, and those whom you protect do not commit sacrilege. You have daily reminded me of Pythagoras’ saying: ‘Follow God.’ It is not likely that I would have sought the protection of evil spirits at a time when you were forming in me that excellence which makes man like God. Moreover, the innocence of my family, the honesty of my closest friends, the goodness of my father-in-law, who is as worthy of honor as yourself—all these ought to have shielded me from any suspicion of this crime. But the worst that my enemies readily believe that wisdom itself is capable of the crime of ambition, and so they associate me with such misconduct because I am imbued with your knowledge and endowed with your virtues. So, my reverence for you is no help; their hatred of me leads them to dishonor you.
“Finally, and this is the last straw, the judgment of most people is based not on the merits of a case but on the fortune of its outcome; they think that only things which turn out happily are good. As a result, the first thing an unfortunate man loses is his good reputation. I cannot bear to think of the rumors and various opinions that are now going around; I can only say that the final misery of adverse fortune is that when some poor man is accused of a crime, it is thought that he deserves whatever punishment he has to suffer. Well, here am I, stripped of my possessions and honors, my reputation ruined, punishment because I tried to do good.
“It seems to me that I can see wicked men everywhere celebrating my fall with great pleasure, and all the criminality depraved concocting new false charges. I see good men terrorized into helplessness by my danger, and evil men encouraged to risk any crime with impunity and able to get away with it by bribery. The innocent are deprived not only of their safety, but even of any defense. Now hear my appeal.
Book 2
Philosophy reminds Boethius of the nature and habits of the goddess Fortune.
Philosophy was silent for a while; then, regaining my attention by her modest reserve, she said: ‘If I understand the causes of your diseased condition, you are suffering from the absence of your former good fortune. What you regard as a change has greatly upset you. I am well acquainted with the many deceptions of that monster, Fortune. She pretends to be friendly to those she intends to cheat, and disappoints those she unexpectedly leaves with intolerable sorrow. If you will recall her nature and habits, you will be convinced that you had nothing of much value when she was with you and you have not lost anything now that she is gone. But I do not suppose that I have to labor this point with you.
“When Fortune smiled on you, you manfully scorned her and attacked her with principles drawn from my deepest wisdom. But every sudden change of fortune brings with it a certain disquiet in the soul; and this is what has caused you to lose your peace of mind. Now is the time for you to take some gentle and pleasant remedy which may prepare you for stronger medicine. I shall use the sweet persuasion of rhetoric, which is suitable enough if it does not contradict the truths of philosophy, and I shall add the grace of Music, a servant of mine whose songs are sometimes happy and sometimes sad.
“What is it, my friend, that has thrown you into grief and sorrow? Do you think that you have encountered something new and different? You are wrong if you think that Fortune has changed towards you. This is her nature, the way she always behaves. She is changeable, and so in her relations with you she has merely done what she always does. This is the way she was when she flattered you and led you on with the pleasures of false happiness. You have merely discovered the two-faced nature of this blind goddess. Although she still hides herself from others, she is now wholly known to you. If you like her, abide by her conditions and do not complain. But if you hate her treachery, ignore her and her deceitful antics. Really, the misfortunes which are now such a cause of grief ought to be reasons for tranquility. For now she has deserted you, and no man can ever be secure until he has been forsaken by Fortune.
“Do you think that your lost happiness is a precious thing? Can present good fortune be dear to you, even though you know that you may lose it, and that the loss will bring sorrow? If you cannot keep her, and if it makes you miserable to lose her, what is fickle Fortune but a promise of future distress? It is not enough to see what is present before our eyes; prudence demands that we look to the future. The double certainty of loss and consequent misery should prevent both the fear of her threats and the desire of her favors. Finally, once you have submitted yourself to her chains, you ought to take calmly whatever she can do to you. If you were to wish for a law to control the comings and goings of one whom you have freely taken for your mistress, you would be unjust and your impatience would merely aggravate a condition which you cannot change. If you hoist your sails in the wind, you will go where the wind blows you, not where you choose to go; if you put seeds in the ground, you must be prepared for lean as well as abundant years.
“You have put yourself in Fortune’s power; now you must be content with the ways of your mistress. If you try to stop the force of her turning wheel, you are the most foolish man alive. If it should stop turning, it would cease to be Fortune’s wheel.
Poem 1
“When Fortune turns her wheel with her proud right hand, she is as unpredictable as the flooding Euripus; at one moment she fiercely tears down mighty kings, at the next the hypocrite exalts the humbled captive. She neither hears nor cares about the tears of those in misery; with a hard heart she laughs at the pain she causes. This is the way she amuses herself; this is the way she shows her power. She shows her servants the marvel of a man despairing and happy within a single hour.
Prose 2
Philosophy shows that it is the nature of Fortune to change.
“Let me confront you with the arguments of Fortune herself; then you will see that she is right. She might say to you: ‘Why do you bother me with your daily complaints? What have I taken from you that belonged to you? You may argue your case against me before any judge; and if you can prove that riches and honors really belong to any mortal man, I will freely concede your ownership of the things you ask for.
“‘When nature produced you from your mother’s womb, I found you naked and lacking in everything. I nourished you with my abundant gifts, and, being inclined to favor you (an attitude which you now seem to hold against me), I endowed you with all the affluence and distinction in my power. Now it please me to withdraw my favor. You should be grateful for the use of things which belonged to someone else; you have no legitimate cause for complaint, as though you lost something which was your own. Why then are you so sad? I have done you no injury. Riches, honors, and all good fortune belong to me. They obey me as servants obey their mistress: they come with me, and when I go, they go too. I would even say that, if the things which you complain about losing had really been yours, you would have never have lost them.
“‘Why should I alone be deprived of my rights? The heavens are permitted to grant bright days, then blot them out with dark nights; the year may decorate the face of the earth with flowers and fruits, then make it barren again with clouds and frost; the sea is allowed to invite the sailor with fair weather, then terrify him with storms. Shall I, then, permit man’s insatiable cupidity to tie me down to a sameness alien to my habits? Here is the source of my power, the game I always play: I spin my wheel and find pleasure in raising the low to a high place and lowering those who were on top. Go up, if you like, but only on condition that you will not feel abused when my sport requires your fall. Didn’t you know about my habits? Surely you had heard of Croesus, King of Lydia, who was a formidable adversary to Cyrus at one time and later suffered such reverses that he would have been burnt had he not been saved by a shower from heaven. And you have heard how Paulus wept over the calamities suffered by Perses, King of Macedonia, whom he captured. What else does the cry of tragedy bewail but the overthrow of happy realms by the unexpected blow of Fortune?
“‘You must have learned as a boy that on Jupiter’s doorstep there are two barrels, one holding good things, the other bad. What if have drawn more abundantly from the barrel of good things? What if I have not deserted you completely? What if my very mutability gives you reason to hope that your fortunes will improve? In any case, do not lose heart. You live the world which all men share, so you ought not desire to live by some special law.
Poem 2
“If free-handed Plenty should dispense riches from her cornucopia as plentiful as the sands cast up by the storm-tossed sea, or as the stars that shine in heaven on clear nights, men still would not stop crying their miserable complaints.
“Even though God were overgenerous with treasures of gold and deigned to satisfy every plea, if He favored the ambitious with the greatest honors, still all this would not satisfy.
“Ravenous greed would devour everything and then discover other wants. No bridle can restrain man’s disordered desires within reasonable bounds. Even when he is filled with great favors, he burns with thirst for more. No man can be rich who cries fearfully and considers himself to be poor.”
Poem 3
“when Apollo in his rosy car begins to spread the light across the sky, the stars grow pale and fade before the rushing flame. When the warm west wind blows, the woodland is radiant with spring roses; but the rage of the cold east wind can blast their beauty and leave only thorns. The calm sea often gleams in serene stillness; but often, too, angry storms out of the north throw up huge waves.
“If the form of this world cannot stay the same, but suffers so many violent changes, what folly is it to trust man’s tumbling fortunes, to rely on things that come and go. One thing is certain, fixed by eternal law: nothing that is born can last.”
Prose 4
Boethius protests that the worst sorrow is the remembrance of lost joys. Philosophy answers that the only true joy is self-possession in the face of adversity.
Then I answered: “Everything you say is true, dear nurse of all virtues. I do not deny that I came quickly to great prosperity. But the memory of it is what causes me most pain; for in the midst of adversity, the worst misfortune of all is to have once been happy.”
“You are being punished for having misjudged your situation,” Philosophy answered. “Therefore you have no right to blame the things which bother you. But if you are so impressed by this rather silly notion of happiness based on good fortune, let us consider how very well off you are. Then, if you find that among all the gifts of Fortune you most precious possessions are still safely yours, thanks to God’s providence, can you justly complain of misfortune?
“Your father-in-law, Symmachus, one of the finest men who ever lived, and one for whom you would gladly give your life, is still unharmed. The most wise and virtuous man lives in safety to lament the injuries you are suffering. Your wife, so gracious, so chaste, so like her father in excellence of character, still lives, though now she is weary of life and goes on only for your sake. Even I must concede that in her case your happiness is greatly marred since her sorrow for your misfortunes is killing her.
“Think of your sons, the Consuls, who already at their age show the character of their father and grandfather. You are a happy man, if you consider what you still have. The greatest concern of mortals is to preserve life, and you still possess thing which everyone agrees are dearer than life itself. So, dry your tears. Fortune has not yet done her worst to you; you have not become a derelict in the storm since those anchors of present comfort and future hope hold fast.”
“And I pray that they will continue to hold,” I said, “for as long as they do I shall not go down, no matter how bad things get. Still, you see yourself how much I have lost.”
“We have made some progress anyway,” she answered, “if you have found something to be happy about. But I find your self-pity hard to bear when you moan childishly over the loss of some of your happiness. No one is so completely happy that he does not have to endure some loss. Anxiety is the necessary condition of human happiness since happiness is never completely achieved and never permanently kept. The man who enjoys great wealth may be scorned for his low birth; the man who is honored for his noble family may be oppressed by such poverty that he would rather be unknown. Someone else may enjoy both wealth and social position, but be miserable because he is not married. Still another may be happily married but have no children to inherit his fortune. Others have children, only to be saddened by their vices. Therefore, no is entirely satisfied with his lot; each finds something lacking, or something which gives pain.
“Besides, those most blessed are often the most sensitive; unless everything works out perfectly, they are impatient at disappointment and shattered by quite trivial things. It takes very little to spoil the perfect happiness of the fortunate. Just think how many people would consider themselves lucky to have only a small part of your remaining good fortune. This very place which you call a land of exile is home to those who live here: nothing is miserable unless you think it so; and on the other hand, nothing brings happiness unless you are content with it. No one is so completely happy that he would not choose to change his condition if he let himself think about it impatiently. The joy of human happiness is shot through with bitterness; no matter how pleasant it seems when one has it, such happiness cannot be kept when it decides to leave.
“You see, then, how shoddy is the enjoyment provided by mortal things. They forsake those who are content with them, and they do not satisfy those who are discontented. Why then do men look outside themselves for happiness which is within? You are confused by error and ignorance and so I will point out to you the source of perfect happiness. Is anything more precious to you than yourself? You will agree that there is nothing. Then if you possess yourself, you have something you will never want to give up and something which Fortune cannot take from you. If you will consider carefully the following argument, you will have to admit that happiness cannot depend on things which are uncertain. If happiness is the highest good of rational natures, and if nothing which can be lost can be a supreme good (because it is obviously less good than that which cannot be lost), then clearly unstable Fortune cannot pretend to bring happiness. The man who enjoys fleeting happiness either knows that it is perishable, or he doesn’t. If he does not know it, his condition is unhappy because it rests on blind ignorance; if he knows his happiness is perishable, he must live in fear of losing what he knows can be easily lost—and such constant fear will not let him be happy. And if he should lose it, would he think that a trivial matter? Whatever can be given up without regret is indeed a thing of little worth. Now, you are a man fully convinced by many proofs that human souls are in no way mortal. It is clear, then, that if transitory happiness ends with the death of the body, and if this means an end of all happiness, the whole human race would be plunged into misery by death. But if we know that many men have sought the enjoyment of happiness not only in death, but also in the sorrows and pains of life, how can this present life make us happy when its end cannot make us unhappy?
Poem 4
“The prudent, steady man who wants a lasting place, immune from blasting winds and dangerous waves, should avoid high mountain peaks and the shore’s shifting sands. For the mountain tops are lashed by terrifying gale-winds; and the loose sand of the beach will not bear his weight. Leave then the dangerous places of delight, and make your home safely on the low rocks. Though the wind trouble the sea with threats of destruction, you will live a serene life, happy for having built a strong house in the quiet valley, and laughing at the wrath of the elements.
Prose 8
Philosophy argues that misfortune is more beneficial than good fortune, for good fortune deceives, but misfortune teaches.
“But do not think that I am engaged in total was with Fortune; for there is a time when that goddess no longer deceives, and then she deserves well of men. That is the time when she unmasks herself, when she shows her face and reveals her true character. But perhaps you do not yet understand what I mean. What I am about to say is so strange that I scarcely know how to make my meaning clear. I am convinced that adverse fortune is more beneficial to men than prosperous fortune. When Fortune seems kind, and seems to promise happiness, she lies. On the other hand, when she shows herself unstable and changeable, she is truthful. Good fortune deceives, adverse fortune teaches. Good fortune enslaves the minds of good men with the beauty of the specious goods which they enjoy; but bad fortune frees them by making them see the fragile nature of happiness. You will notice that good fortune is proud, insecure, ignorant of her true nature; but bad fortune is sober, self-possessed, and prudent through the experience of adversity. Finally, good fortune seduces weak men away from the true good through flattery; but misfortune often turns them around and forcibly leads them back to the true good.
“Do you think it a small matter that your terrible misfortunes have revealed the feelings of those friends who are faithful to you? Fortune has separated your true friends from two-faced ones; when she left you, she took her followers with her and left you your own. Think how much you would have given for this knowledge when you were still on top and thought yourself fortunate. Now you complain of lost riches; but you have found your friends, and that is the most precious kind of wealth.
Poem 8
“That the universe carries out its changing process in concord and with stable faith, that the conflicting seeds of things are held by everlasting law, that Phoebus in his golden chariot brings in the shining day, that the night, led by Herperus, is ruled by Phoebe, that the greedy sea holds back his waves within lawful bounds, for they are not permitted to push back the unsettled earth—all this harmonious order of things is achieved by love which rules the earth and the seas, and commands the heavens.
“But if love should slack the reins, all that is now joined in mutual love would wage continual war, and strive to tear apart the world which is now sustained in friendly concord by beautiful motion.
“Love binds together people joined by a sacred bond; love binds sacred marriages by chaste affections; love makes the laws which join true friends. O how happy the human race would be, if that love which rules the heavens ruled also your souls!”
Prose 10
Philosophy teaches Boethius that the supreme good and highest happiness are found in God and are God.
“Since you have seen the forms of imperfect and perfect good, I think it is now time to show where this perfection of happiness resides. First, we must ask whether a good of the kind you defined a short while ago can exist at all, so that we may not be deceived by an empty shadow of thought and thus be prevented from reaching the truth of our problem. Now, no one can deny that something exists which is a kind of fountain of all goodness; for everything which is found to be imperfect shows its imperfection by the lack of some perfection. It follows that if something is found to be imperfect in its kind, there must necessarily be something of that same kind which is perfect. For without a standard of perfection we cannot judge anything to be imperfect. Nature did not have its origins in the detective and incomplete but in the integral and absolute; it fell from such beginnings to its present meanness and weakness.
“But if, as I have just pointed out, there is a certain imperfect happiness in transitory goods, no one can doubt that there is a perfect and enduring happiness.”
“That is firmly and truly established,” I said.
“Now consider where this perfect happiness has its dwelling place. It is the common conception of the human mind that God, the ruler of all things, is good. For, since nothing can be thought of better than God, who can doubt that He is the good, other than whom nothing is better. And that God is good is demonstrated by reason in such a way as to convince us that He is the perfect good. If He were not, He could not be the ruler of all things; for there would be something better than He, something possessing perfect good, which would seem to be older and greater than He. For all perfect things have been shown to come before less perfect ones. And so, if we are to avoid progression ad infinitum, we must agree that the most high God if full of the highest and most perfect good. But we have already established that perfect good is true happiness; therefore it follows that true happiness has its dwelling in the most high God.”
“I agree,” I said. “Your argument cannot be contradicted.”
“But observe,” Philosophy continued, “how you may prove scrupulously and inviolably what I have just said, namely, that the most high God is full of the highest good.”
“How?” I asked.
“By avoiding the notion that the Father of all things has received from others the highest good with which He is filled, or that He has it naturally in such a way that He and the happiness which He has may be said to differ in essence. For, if you should suppose that He receives it from someone else, you could think that the one who gives it is greater than the one who receives it; but we worthily confess that God is the most excellent of all beings. And if He has this happiness by nature, but differs from it, then someone else who can will have to explain how these diverse things are joined together, since we are speaking of God the Creator of all things. Finally, that which is different from anything cannot be the thing from which it differs; therefore, that which according to its nature differs from the highest good cannot be the highest good. But it is blasphemous to think this about One other than whom, as we know, nothing is greater. And surely there can be nothing better by nature than its source; therefore, I may conclude with certainty that whatever is the source of all things must be, in its substance, the highest good.”
“I agree.”
“And do you also agree that the highest good is happiness?”
“Yes.”
“Then,” said Philosophy, “you must agree that God is happiness.”
“I found your earlier arguments unassailable, and I see that this conclusion follows from them.”
“Then consider whether the same conclusion is not even more firmly established by this, that there cannot exist two highest goods which differ from one another. Clearly, when two goods differ, one cannot be the other; therefore, neither can be perfect since it lacks the other. But that which is not perfect certainly cannot be the highest good; therefore, those things which are the highest good cannot be diverse. But I have proved that happiness and God are the highest good; therefore, that must be the highest happiness which is the highest divinity.”
“I can think of nothing truer, or more reasonable, or worthier of God,” I said.
“From this conclusion, then, I will give you a kind of corollary, just as the geometricians infer from their demonstrated propositions things which they call deductions. Since men become happy by acquiring happiness, and since happiness is divinity itself, it follows that men become happy by acquiring divinity. For as men become just by acquiring integrity, and wise by acquiring wisdom, so they must in a similar way become gods by acquiring divinity. Thus everyone who is happy is a god and, although it is true that God is one by nature, still there may be many gods by participation.”
“This is a beautiful and precious idea,” I said, “whether you call it a corollary or a deduction.”
“And there is nothing more beautiful,” Philosophy went on, “than the truth which reason persuades us to add to this.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“Since happiness seems composed of many things, would you say that all these are joined together in happiness, as a variety of parts in one body, or does one of the parts constitute the essence of happiness with all the rest complementing it?”
“I wish you would explain this point by recalling what is involved.”
Philosophy then continued. “Do we not agree that happiness is good?”
“Indeed, it is the highest good,” I replied.
“Then we must add this good to all the others; for happiness is considered the fullest sufficiency, the greatest power, honor, fame, and pleasure. Now are all these to be regarded as good in the sense that they are members or parts of happiness, or are they simply related to the good as to their crown?”
“I understand the problem now and am eager to have your answer.”
“Here then is the solution. If all these goods were constituent parts of happiness, each would differ from the others; for it is the nature of parts to be different things constituting one body. But I have proved that all these goods are one and the same thing; therefore they cannot be parts. Otherwise, happiness would seem to be constituted of one part, which is a contradiction in terms.”
“There is no doubt about that,” I said, “but you have not yet given me the solution.”
“Clearly, all the rest must be related to the good. For riches are sought because they are thought good, power because it is believed to be good, and the same is true of honor, fame, and pleasure. Therefore, the good is the cause and sum of all that is sought for; for if a thing has in it neither the substance nor the appearance of good, it is not sought or desired by men. On the other hand, things which are not truly good, but only seem to be, are sought after as if they were good. It follows, then, that goodness is rightly considered the sum, pivot, and cause of all that men desire. The most important object of desire is that for the sake of which something else is sought as a means; as, for example, if a person wishes to ride horseback in order to improve his health, he desires the effect of health more than the exercise of riding.
“Since, therefore, all things are sought on account of the good, it is the good itself, not the other things, which is desired by everyone. But, as we agreed earlier, all those other things are sought for the sake of happiness; therefore, happiness alone is the object of men’s desires. It follows clearly from this that the good and happiness are one and the same thing.”
“I cannot see how any one could disagree.”
“But we have also proved that God and true happiness are one and the same.”
“That is so.”
“We can, therefore, safely conclude that the essence of God is to be found in the good, and nowhere else.”
Poem 6
“If you wish to discern the laws of the high and mighty God, the high thunderer, with an unclouded mind, look up to the roof of the highest heaven. There the stars, united by just agreement, keep the ancient peace. The sun, driven by red fire, does not impede the cold circle of Phoebe. Nor does the Great Bear driving its course at the world’s top hide itself in the western ocean; it never wants to drown its flames in the sea, though it sees other stars plunge beneath the waves. The faithful Hesperus announces the approach of night at the assigned time; then, as Lucifer, it brings back the warming day.
“Thus mutual love governs their eternal movement and the war of discord is excluded from the bounds of heaven. Concord rules the elements with fair restraint; moist things yield place to day, cold and hot combine in friendship; flickering fire rises on high, and gross earth sinks down. Impelled by the same causes, the flowering year breathes out its odors in warm spring; hot summer dries the grain and autumn comes in burdened with fruit; then falling rain brings in wet winter.
“This order change nourishes and sustains all that lives on earth; then snatches away and buries all that was born, hiding it in final death. Meanwhile, the Creator sits of high, governing and guiding the course of things. King and lord, source and origin, law and wise judge of right. All thing which He placed in motion, He draws back and holds in check; He makes firm whatever tends to stray. If He did not recall them to their true paths and set them again on their circling courses, all things that the stable order now contains would be wrenched from their source and perish.
“This is the common bond of love by which all things seek to be held to the goal of good. Only thus can things endure: drawn by love they turn again to the Cause which gave them being.
Prose 7
Philosophy, at the request of Boethius, restates in popular form her thesis that all fortune is good.
“And now,” said Philosophy, “do you understand the implications of what I have told you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“That all fortune is good.”