The Consolation of Philosophy. Boethius
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for thee in this thy present mood. And so for a time I will use milder methods, that the tumours which have grown hard through the influx of disturbing passion may be softened by gentle treatment, till they can bear the force of sharper remedies.’
Song VI. All Things have their Needful Order.
He who to th’ unwilling furrows Gives the generous grain,
When the Crab with baleful fervours Scorches all the plain;
He shall find his garner bare, Acorns for his scanty fare.
Go not forth to cull sweet violets From the purpled steep,
While the furious blasts of winter Through the valleys sweep; Nor the grape o’erhasty bring To the press in days of spring.
For to each thing God hath given Its appointed time;
No perplexing change permits He In His plan sublime.
So who quits the order due Shall a luckless issue rue.
VI.
‘First, then, wilt thou suffer me by a few questions to make some attempt to test the state of thy mind, that I may learn in what way to set about thy cure?’
‘Ask what thou wilt,’ said I, ‘for I will answer whatever questions thou choosest to put.’
Then said she: ‘This world of ours—thinkest thou it is governed haphazard and fortuitously, or believest thou that there is in it any rational guidance?’
‘Nay,’ said I, ‘in no wise may I deem that such fixed motions can be determined by random hazard, but I know that God, the Creator, presideth over His work, nor will the day ever come that shall drive me from holding fast the truth of this belief.’
‘Yes,’ said she; ‘thou didst even but now affirm it in song, lamenting that men alone had no portion in the divine care. As to the rest, thou wert unshaken in the belief that they were ruled by reason. Yet I marvel exceedingly how, in spite of thy firm hold on this opinion, thou art fallen into sickness. But let us probe more deeply: something or other is missing, I think. Now, tell me, since thou doubtest not that God governs the world, dost thou perceive by what means He rules it?’
‘I scarcely understand what thou meanest,’ I said, ‘much less can I answer thy question.’
‘Did I not say truly that something is missing, whereby, as through a breach in the ramparts, disease hath crept in to disturb thy mind? But, tell me, dost thou remember the universal end towards which the aim of all nature is directed?’
‘I once heard,’ said I, ‘but sorrow hath dulled my recollection.’
‘And yet thou knowest whence all things have proceeded.’
‘Yes, that I know,’ said I, ‘and have answered that it is from God.’
‘Yet how is it possible that thou knowest not what is the end of existence, when thou dost understand its source and origin?However, these disturbances of mind have force to shake a man’s position, but cannot pluck him up and root him altogether out of himself. But answer this also, I pray thee: rememberest thou that thou art a man?’
‘How should I not?’ said I.
‘Then, canst thou say what man is?’
‘Is this thy question: Whether I know myself for a being endowed with reason and subject to death? Surely I do acknowledge myself such.’
Then she: ‘Dost know nothing else that thou art?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Now,’ said she, ‘I know another cause of thy disease, one, too, of grave moment. Thou hast ceased to know thy own nature. So, then, I have made full discovery both of the causes of thy sickness and the means of restoring thy health. It is because forgetfulness of thyself hath bewildered thy mind that thou hast bewailed thee as an exile, as one stripped of the blessings that were his; it is because thou knowest not the end of existence that thou deemest abominable and wicked men to be happy and powerful; while, because thou hast forgotten by what means the earth is governed, thou deemest that fortune’s changes ebb and flow without the restraint of a guiding hand. These are serious enough to cause not sickness only, but even death; but, thanks be to the Author of our health, the light of nature hath not yet left thee utterly. In thy true judgment concerning the world’s government, in that thou believest it subject, not to the random drift of chance, but to divine reason, we have the divine spark from which thy recovery may be hoped. Have, then, no fear; from these weak embers the vital heat shall once more be kindled within thee. But seeing that it is not yet time for strong remedies, and that the mind is manifestly so constituted that when it casts off true opinions it straightway puts on false, wherefrom arises a cloud of confusion that disturbs its true vision, I will now try and disperse these mists by mild and soothing application, that so the darkness of misleading passion may be scattered, and thou mayst come to discern the splendour of the true light.’
Song VII. The Perturbations of Passion.
Stars shed no light
Through the black night,
When the clouds hide;
And the lashed wave,
If the winds rave
O’er ocean’s tide,—
Though once serene
As day’s fair sheen,—
Soon fouled and spoiled
By the storm’s spite,
Shows to the sight
Turbid and soiled.
Oft the fair rill,
Down the steep hill
Seaward that strays,
Some tumbled block
Of fallen rock
Hinders and stays.
Then art thou fain
Clear and most plain
Truth to discern,
In the right way
Firmly to stay,
Nor from it turn?
Joy, hope and fear
Suffer not near,
Drive grief away:
Shackled and blind
And lost is the mind
Where these have sway.
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