Then I said that I did very well like of Plato's doctrine, for thou dost bring these things to my remembrance now the second time, first, because I lost their memory by the contagion of my body, and after when I was oppressed with the burden of grief. "If," quoth she, "thou reflectest upon that which heretofore hath been granted, thou wilt not be far from remembering that which in the beginning thou confessedst thyself to be ignorant of." "What?" quoth I. "By what government," quoth she, "the world is ruled." "I remember," quoth I, "that I did confess my ignorance, but though I foresee what thou wilt say, yet I desire to hear it more plainly from thyself." "Thou thoughtest a little before that it was not to be doubted that this world is governed by God." "Neither do I think now," quoth I, "neither will I ever think, that it is to be doubted of, and I will briefly explicate the reasons which move me to think so. This world could never have been compacted of so many divers and contrary parts, unless there were One that doth unite these so different things; and this disagreeing diversity of natures being united would separate and divide this concord, unless there were One that holdeth together that which He united. Neither would the course of nature continue so certain, nor would the different parts hold so well- ordered motions in due places, times, causality, spaces and qualities, unless there were One who, Himself remaining quiet, disposeth and ordereth this variety of motions. This, whatsoever it be, by which things created continue and are moved, I call God, a name which all men use."[141]
"Since," quoth she, "thou art of this mind, I think with little labour thou mayest be capable of felicity, and return to thy country in safety. But let us consider what we proposed. Have we not placed sufficiency in happiness, and granted that God is blessedness itself?" "Yes truly." "Wherefore," quoth she, "He will need no outward helps to govern the world, otherwise, if He needed anything, He had not full sufficiency." "That," quoth I, "must necessarily be so." "Wherefore He disposeth all things by Himself." "No doubt He doth," quoth I. "But it hath been proved that God is goodness itself." "I remember it very well," quoth I. "Then He disposeth all things by goodness: since He governeth all things by Himself, whom we have granted to be goodness. And this is as it were the helm and rudder by which the frame of the world is kept steadfast and uncorrupted." "I most willingly agree," quoth I, "and I foresaw a little before, though only with a slender guess, that thou wouldst conclude this." "I believe thee," quoth she, "for now I suppose thou lookest more watchfully about thee to discern the truth. But that which I shall say is no less manifest." "What?" quoth I. "Since that God is deservedly thought to govern all things with the helm of goodness, and all these things likewise, as I have showed, hasten to goodness with their natural contention, can there be any doubt made but that they are governed willingly, and that they frame themselves of their own accord to their disposer's beck, as agreeable and conformable to their ruler?" "It must needs be so," quoth I, "neither would it seem an happy government, if it were an imposed yoke, not a desired health." "There is nothing then which, following nature, endeavoureth to resist God." "Nothing," quoth I. "What if anything doth endeavour," quoth she, "can anything prevail against Him, whom we have granted to be most powerful by reason of His blessedness?" "No doubt," quoth I, "nothing could prevail." "Wherefore there is nothing which either will or can resist this sovereign goodness." "I think not," quoth I. "It is then the sovereign goodness which governeth all things strongly, and disposeth them sweetly." "How much," quoth I, "doth not only the reason which thou allegest, but much more the very words which thou usest, delight me, that folly which so much vexed me may at length be ashamed of herself."
"Thou hast heard in the poets' fables," quoth she, "how the giants provoked heaven, but this benign fortitude put them also down, as they deserved. But wilt thou have our arguments contend together? Perhaps by this clash there will fly out some beautiful spark of truth." "As it pleaseth thee," quoth I. "No man can doubt," quoth she, "but that God is almighty." "No man," quoth I, "that is well in his wits." "But," quoth she, "there is nothing that He who is almighty cannot do." "Nothing," quoth I. "Can God do evil?" "No," quoth I, "Wherefore," quoth she, "evil is nothing, since He cannot do it who can do anything." "Dost thou mock me," quoth I, "making with thy reasons an inextricable labyrinth, because thou dost now go in where thou meanest to go out again, and after go out, where thou camest in, or dost thou frame a wonderful circle of the simplicity of God? For a little before taking thy beginning from blessedness, thou affirmedst that to be the chiefest good which thou saidst was placed in God, and likewise thou provedst, that God Himself is the chiefest good and full happiness, out of which thou madest me a present of that inference, that no man shall be happy unless he be also a God. Again thou toldest me that the form of goodness is the substance of God and of blessedness, and that unity is the same with goodness, because it is desired by the nature of all things; thou didst also dispute that God governeth the whole world with the helm of goodness, and that all things obey willingly, and that there is no nature of evil, and thou didst explicate all these things with no foreign or far-fetched proofs, but with those which were proper and drawn from inward principles, the one confirming the other."
"We neither play nor mock," quoth she, "and we have finished the greatest matter that can be by the assistance of God, whose aid we implored in the beginning. For such is the form of the Divine substance that it is neither divided into outward things, nor receiveth any such into itself, but as Parmenides saith of it:
In body like a sphere well-rounded on all sides,[142]
it doth roll about the moving orb of things, while it keepeth itself unmovable. And if we have used no far-fetched reasons, but such as were placed within the compass of the matter we handled, thou hast no cause to marvel, since thou hast learned in Plato's school that our speeches must be like and as it were akin to the things we speak of.
[141]Vide supra, Tr.iv. (pp. 56 ff.).
[142] Cf.Frag.8. 43 (Diels,Vorsokratiker, i. p. 158).
Felix qui potuit boniFontem uisere lucidum,Felix qui potuit grauisTerrae soluere uincula.Quondam funera coniugis 5Vates Threicius gemensPostquam flebilibus modisSiluas currere mobiles,Amnes stare coegerat,Iunxitque intrepidum latus 10Saeuis cerua leonibus,Nec uisum timuit lepusIam cantu placidum canem,Cum flagrantior intimaFeruor pectoris ureret, 15Nec qui cuncta subegerantMulcerent dominum modi,Inmites superos querensInfernas adiit domos.Illic blanda sonantibus 20Chordis carmina temperansQuidquid praecipuis deaeMatris fontibus hauserat,Quod luctus dabat impotens,Quod luctum geminans amor, 25Deflet Taenara commouensEt dulci ueniam preceVmbrarum dominos rogat.Stupet tergeminus nouoCaptus carmine ianitor, 30Quae sontes agitant metuVltrices scelerum deaeIam maestae lacrimis madent.Non Ixionium caputVelox praecipitat rota 35Et longa site perditusSpernit flumina Tantalus.Vultur dum satur est modis,Non traxit Tityi iecur.Tandem, 'Vincimur,' arbiter 40Vmbrarum miserans ait,'Donamus comitem uiroEmptam carmine coniugem.Sed lex dona coerceat,Ne, dum Tartara liquerit, 45Fas sit lumina flectere.'Quis legem det amantibus?Maior lex amor est sibi.Heu, noctis prope terminosOrpheus Eurydicen suam 50Vidit, perdidit, occidit.Vos haec fabula respicitQuicumque in superum diemMentem ducere quaeritis.Nam qui Tartareum in specus 55Victus lumina flexerit,Quidquid praecipuum trahitPerdit, dum uidet inferos."
Happy is he that can beholdThe well-spring whence all good doth rise,Happy is he that can unfoldThe bands with which the earth him ties.The Thracian poet whose sweet songPerformed his wife's sad obsequies,And forced the woods to run alongWhen he his mournful tunes did play,Whose powerful music was so strongThat it could make the rivers stay;The fearful hinds not daunted were,But with the lions took their way,Nor did the hare behold with fearThe dog whom these sweet notes appease.When force of grief drew yet more near,And on his heart did burning seize,Nor tunes which all in quiet boundCould any jot their master ease,The gods above too hard he found,And Pluto's palace visiting.He mixed sweet verses with the soundOf his loud harp's delightful string,All that he drank with thirsty draughtFrom his high mother's chiefest spring,All that his restless grief him taught,And love which gives grief double aid,With this even hell itself was caught,Whither he went, and pardon prayedFor his dear spouse (unheard request).The three-head porter was dismayed,Ravished with his unwonted guest,The Furies, which in tortures keepThe guilty souls with pains opprest,Moved with his song began to weep.Ixion's wheel now standing stillTurns not his head with motions steep.Though Tantalus might drink at will,To quench his thirst he would forbear.The vulture full with music shrillDoth not poor Tityus' liver tear.'We by his verses conquered are,'Saith the great King whom spirits fear.'Let us not then from him debarHis wife whom he with songs doth gain.Yet lest our gift should stretch too far,We will it with this law restrain,That when from hell he takes his flight,He shall from looking back refrain.'Who can for lovers laws indite?Love hath no law but her own will.Orpheus, seeing on the verge of nightEurydice, doth lose and killHer and himself with foolish love.But you this feigned tale fulfil,Who think unto the day aboveTo bring with speed your darksome mind.For if, your eye conquered, you moveBackward to Pluto left behind,All the rich prey which thence you took,You lose while back to hell you look."
Haec cum Philosophia dignitate uultus et oris grauitate seruata leniter suauiterque cecinisset, tum ego nondum penitus insiti maeroris oblitus intentionem dicere adhuc aliquid parantis abrupi. Et: "O," inquam, "ueri praeuia luminis quae usque adhuc tua fudit oratio, cum sui speculatione diuina tum tuis rationibus inuicta patuerunt, eaque mihi etsi ob iniuriae dolorem nuper oblita non tamen antehac prorsus ignorata dixisti. Sed ea ipsa est uel maxima nostri causa maeroris, quod, cum rerum bonus rector exsistat, uel esse omnino mala possint uel impunita praetereant; quod solum quanta dignum sit admiratione profecto consideras. At huic aliud maius adiungitur. Nam imperante florenteque nequitia uirtus non solum praemiis caret, uerum etiam sceleratorum pedibus subiecta calcatur et in locum facinorum supplicia luit. Quae fieri in regno scientis omnia, potentis omnia sed bona tantummodo uolentis dei nemo satis potest nec admirari nec conqueri."
Tum illa: "Et esset," inquit, "infiniti stuporis omnibusque horribilius monstris, si, uti tu aestimas, in tanti uelut patrisfamilias dispositissima domo uilia uasa colerentur, pretiosa sordescerent. Sed non ita est. Nam si ea quae paulo ante conclusa sunt inconuulsa seruantur, ipso de cuius nunc regno loquimur auctore cognosces semper quidem potentes esse bonos, malos uero abiectos semper atque inbecillos nec sine poena umquam esse uitia nec sine praemio uirtutes, bonis felicia, malis semper infortunata contingere multaque id genus quae sopitis querelis firma te soliditate corroborent. Et quoniam uerae formam beatitudinis me dudum monstrante uidisti, quo etiam sita sit agnouisti, decursis omnibus quae praemittere necessarium puto, uiam tibi quae te domum reuehat ostendam. Pennas etiam tuae menti quibus se in altum tollere possit adfigam, ut perturbatione depulsa sospes in patriam meo ductu, mea semita, meis etiam uehiculis reuertaris.
When Philosophy had sung these verses with a soft and sweet voice, observing due dignity and gravity in her countenance and gesture, I, not having altogether forgotten my inward grief, interrupted her speech which she was about to continue, and said: "O thou who bringest us to see true light, those things which hitherto thou hast treated of have manifestly appeared both to be divine when contemplated apart, and invincible when supported by thy reasons, and what thou hast uttered, though the force of grief had made me forget it of late, yet heretofore I was not altogether ignorant of it. But this is the chiefest cause of my sorrow, that since the governor of all things is so good, there can either be any evil at all, or that it pass unpunished. Which alone I beseech thee consider, how much admiration it deserveth. But there is another greater than this; for wickedness bearing rule and sway, virtue is not only without reward, but lieth also trodden under the wicked's feet, and is punished instead of vice. That which things should be done in the kingdom of God, who knoweth all things, can do all things, but will do only that which is good, no man can sufficiently admire nor complain."
To which she answered: "It were indeed infinitely strange, and surpassing all monsters, if, as thou conceivest, in the best-ordered house of so great an householder the vilest vessels were made account of and the precious neglected; but it is not so. For if those things which were a little before concluded be kept unviolated, thou shalt by His help, of whose kingdom we speak, know that the good are always powerful, and the evil always abject and weak, and that vices are never without punishment, nor virtue without reward, and that the good are always prosperous, and the evil unfortunate, and many things of that sort, which will take away all cause of complaint, and give thee firm and solid strength. And since by my means thou hast already seen the form of true blessedness, and known where it is placed, running over all those things which I think necessary to rehearse, I will show thee the way which will carry thee home. And I will also fasten wings upon thy mind, with which she may rouse herself, that, all perturbation being driven away, thou mayest return safely into thy country by my direction, by my path, and with my wings.
Sunt etenim pennae uolucres mihiQuae celsa conscendant poli.Quas sibi cum uelox mens induit,Terras perosa despicit,Aeris inmensi superat globum, 5Nubesque postergum uidet,Quique agili motu calet aetheris,Transcendit ignis uerticem,Donec in astriferas surgat domosPhoeboque coniungat uias 10Aut comitetur iter gelidi senisMiles corusci sideris,Vel quocumque micans nox pingitur,Recurrat astri circulumAtque ubi iam exhausti fuerit satis, 15Polum relinquat extimumDorsaque uelocis premat aetherisCompos uerendi luminis.Hic regum sceptrum dominus tenetOrbisque habenas temperat 20Et uolucrem currum stabilis regitRerum coruscus arbiter.Huc te si reducem referat uia,Quam nunc requiris immemor:'Haec,' dices, 'memini, patria est mihi, 25Hinc ortus; hic sistam gradum."Quod si terrarum placeat tibiNoctem relictam uisere,Quos miseri toruos populi timentCernes tyrannos exules." 30
For I have swift and nimble wings which will ascend the lofty skies,With which when thy quick mind is clad, it will the loathéd earthdespise,And go beyond the airy globe, and watery clouds behind thee leave,Passing the fire which scorching heat doth from the heavens' swiftcourse receive,Until it reach the starry house, and get to tread bright Phoebus' ways,Following the chilly sire's path,[143] companion of his flashing rays,And trace the circle of the stars which in the night to us appear,And having stayed there long enough go on beyond the farthest sphere,Sitting upon the highest orb partaker of the glorious light,Where the great King his sceptre holds, and the world's reins doth guidearight,And, firm in his swift chariot, doth everything in order set.Unto this seat when thou art brought, thy country, which thou didstforget,Thou then wilt challenge to thyself, saying: 'This is the glorious landWhere I was born, and in this soil my feet for evermore shall stand.Whence if thou pleasest to behold the earthly night which thou hastleft,Those tyrants which the people fear will seem of their true homebereft.'"
[143] Cf. "frigida Saturni sese quo Stella receptet," Virg.Georg.i. 336.
Tum ego: "Papae," inquam, "ut magna promittis! Nec dubito quin possis efficere; tu modo quem excitaueris ne moreris." "Primum igitur," inquit, "bonis semper adesse potentiam, malos cunctis uiribus esse desertos agnoscas licebit, quorum quidem alterum demonstratur ex altero. Nam cum bonum malumque contraria sint, si bonum potens esse constiterit, liquet inbecillitas mali; at si fragilitas clarescat mali, boni firmitas nota est. Sed uti nostrae sententiae fides abundantior sit, alterutro calle procedam nunc hinc nunc inde proposita confirmans.
Duo sunt quibus omnis humanorum actuum constat effectus, uoluntas scilicet ac potestas, quorum si alterutrum desit, nihil est quod explicari queat. Deficiente etenim uoluntate ne aggreditur quidem quisque quod non uult; at si potestas absit, uoluntas frustra sit. Quo fit ut si quem uideas adipisci uelle quod minime adipiscatur, huic obtinendi quod uoluerit defuisse ualentiam dubitare non possis." "Perspicuum est," inquam, "nec ullo modo negari potest." "Quem uero effecisse quod uoluerit uideas, num etiam potuisse dubitabis?" "Minime." "Quod uero quisque potest, in eo ualidus, quod uero non potest, in hoc imbecillis esse censendus est." "Fateor," inquam. "Meministine igitur," inquit, "superioribus rationibus esse collectum intentionem omnem uoluntatis humanae quae diuersis studiis agitur ad beatitudinem festinare?" "Memini," inquam, "illud quoque esse demonstratum." "Num recordaris beatitudinem ipsum esse bonum eoque modo, cum beatitudo petitur, ab omnibus desiderari bonum?" "Minime," inquam, "recordor, quoniam id memoriae fixum teneo." "Omnes igitur homines boni pariter ac mali indiscreta intentione ad bonum peruenire nituntur?" "Ita," inquam, "consequens est." "Sed certum est adeptione boni bonos fieri." "Certum." "Adipiscuntur igitur boni quod appetunt?" "Sic uidetur." "Mali uero si adipiscerentur quod appetunt bonum, mali esse non possent." "Ita est." "Cum igitur utrique bonum petant, sed hi quidem adipiscantur, illi uero minime, num dubium est bonos quidem potentes esse, qui uero mali sunt imbecillos?" "Quisquis," inquam, "dubitat, nec rerum naturam nec consequentiam potest considerare rationum." "Rursus," inquit, "si duo sint quibus idem secundum naturam propositum sit eorumque unus naturali officio id ipsum agat atque perficiat, alter uero naturale illud officium minime administrare queat, alio uero modo quam naturae conuenit non quidem impleat propositum suum sed imitetur implentem, quemnam horum ualentiorem esse decernis?" "Etsi coniecto," inquam, "quid uelis, planius tamen audire desidero." "Ambulandi," inquit, "motum secundum naturam esse hominibus num negabis?" "Minime," inquam. "Eiusque rei pedum officium esse naturale num dubitas?" "Ne hoc quidem," inquam. "Si quis igitur pedibus incedere ualens ambulet aliusque cui hoc naturale pedum desit officium, manibus nitens ambulare conetur, quis horum iure ualentior existimari potest?" "Contexe," inquam, "cetera; nam quin naturalis officii potens eo qui idem nequeat ualentior sit, nullus ambigat." "Sed summum bonum, quod aeque malis bonisque propositum, boni quidem naturali officio uirtutum petunt, mali uero uariam per cupiditatem, quod adipiscendi boni naturale officium non est, idem ipsum conantur adipisci. An tu aliter existimas?" "Minime," inquam, "nam etiam quod est consequens patet. Ex his enim quae concesserim, bonos quidem potentes, malos uero esse necesse est imbecillos."
"Recte," inquit, "praecurris idque, uti medici sperare solent, indicium est erectae iam resistentisque naturae. Sed quoniam te ad intellegendum promptissimum esse conspicio, crebras coaceruabo rationes. Vide enim quanta uitiosorum hominum pateat infirmitas qui ne ad hoc quidem peruenire queunt ad quod eos naturalis ducit ac paene compellit intentio. Et quid si hoc tam magno ac paene inuicto praeeuntis naturae desererentur auxilio? Considera uero quanta sceleratos homines habeat impotentia. Neque enim leuia aut ludicra praemia petunt, quae consequi atque obtinere non possunt, sed circa ipsam rerum summam uerticemque deficiunt nec in eo miseris contingit effectus quod solum dies noctesque moliuntur; in qua re bonorum uires eminent. Sicut enim eum qui pedibus incedens ad eum locum usque peruenire potuisset, quo nihil ulterius peruium iaceret incessui, ambulandi potentissimum esse censeres, ita eum qui expetendorum finem quo nihil ultra est apprehendit, potentissimum necesse est iudices. Ex quo fit quod huic obiacet, ut idem scelesti, idem uiribus omnibus uideantur esse deserti. Cur enim relicta uirtute uitia sectantur? Inscitiane bonorum? Sed quid eneruatius ignorantiae caecitate? An sectanda nouerunt? Sed transuersos eos libido praecipitat. Sic quoque intemperantia fragiles qui obluctari uitio nequeunt. An scientes uolentesque bonum deserunt, ad uitia deflectunt? Sed hoc modo non solum potentes esse sed omnino esse desinunt. Nam qui communem omnium quae sunt finem relinquunt, pariter quoque esse desistunt. Quod quidem cuipiam mirum forte uideatur, ut malos, qui plures hominum sunt, eosdem non esse dicamus; sed ita sese res habet. Nam qui mali sunt eos malos esse non abnuo; sed eosdem esse pure atque simpliciter nego.
Nam uti cadauer hominem mortuum dixeris, simpliciter uero hominem appellare non possis, ita uitiosos malos quidem esse concesserim, sed esse absolute nequeam confiteri. Est enim quod ordinem retinet seruatque naturam; quod uero ab hac deficit, esse etiam quod in sua natura situm est derelinquit. 'Sed possunt,' inquies, 'mali.' Ne ego quidem negauerim, sed haec eorum potentia non a uiribus sed ab imbecillitate descendit. Possunt enim mala quae minime ualerent, si in bonorum efficientia manere potuissent. Quae possibilitas eos euidentius nihil posse demonstrat. Nam si, uti paulo ante collegimus, malum nihil est, cum mala tantummodo possint, nihil posse improbos liquet." "Perspicuum est." "Atque ut intellegas quaenam sit huius potentiae uis, summo bono nihil potentius esse paulo ante definiuimus." "Ita est," inquam. "Sed idem," inquit, "facere malum nequit." "Minime." "Est igitur," inquit, "aliquis qui omnia posse homines putet?" "Nisi quis insaniat, nemo." "Atqui idem possunt mala." "Vtinam quidem," inquam, "non possent." "Cum igitur bonorum tantummodo potens possit omnia, non uero queant omnia potentes etiam malorum, eosdem qui mala possunt minus posse manifestum est. Huc accedit quod omnem potentiam inter expetenda numerandam omniaque expetenda referri ad bonum uelut ad quoddam naturae suae cacumen ostendimus. Sed patrandi sceleris possibilitas referri ad bonum non potest; expetenda igitur non est. Atqui omnis potentia expetenda est; liquet igitur malorum possibilitatem non esse potentiam. Ex quibus omnibus bonorum quidem potentia, malorum uero minime dubitabilis apparet infirmitas ueramque illam Platonis esse sententiam liquet solos quod desiderent facere posse sapientes, improbos uero exercere quidem quod libeat, quod uero desiderent explere non posse. Faciunt enim quaelibet, dum per ea quibus delectantur id bonum quod desiderant se adepturos putant; sed minime adipiscuntur, quoniam ad beatitudinem probra non ueniunt.
"Oh!" quoth I. "How great things dost thou promise! And I doubt not but thou canst perform them, wherefore stay me not now that thou hast stirred up my desires." "First then," quoth she, "that good men are always powerful, and evil men of no strength, thou mayest easily know, the one is proved by the other. For since that good and evil are contraries, if it be convinced that goodness is potent, the weakness of evil will be also manifest; and contrariwise if we discern the frailty of evil, we must needs acknowledge the firmness of goodness. But that our opinions may be more certainly embraced, I will take both ways, confirming my propositions, sometime from one part, sometime from another.
There be two things by which all human actions are effected, will and power, of which if either be wanting, there can nothing be performed. For if there want will, no man taketh anything in hand against his will, and if there be not power, the will is in vain. So that, if thou seest any willing to obtain that which he doth not obtain, thou canst not doubt but that he wanted power to obtain what he would." "It is manifest," quoth I, "and can by no means be denied." "And wilt thou doubt that he could, whom thou seest bring to pass what he desired?" "No." "But every man is mighty in that which he can do, and weak in that which he cannot do." "I confess it," quoth I. "Dost thou remember then," quoth she, "that it was inferred by our former discourses that all the intentions of man's will doth hasten to happiness, though their courses be divers?" "I remember," quoth I, "that that also was proved." "Dost thou also call to mind that blessedness is goodness itself, and consequently when blessedness is sought after, goodness must of course be desired?" "I call it not to mind, for I have it already fixed in my memory." "Wherefore all men both good and bad without difference of intentions endeavour to obtain goodness." "It followeth," quoth I. "But it is certain that men are made good by the obtaining of goodness." "It is so." "Wherefore good men obtain what they desire." "So it seemeth." "And if evil men did obtain the goodness they desire, they could not be evil." "It is true." "Wherefore since they both desire goodness, but the one obtaineth it and the other not, there is no doubt but that good men are powerful, and the evil weak." "Whosoever doubteth of this," quoth I, "he neither considereth the nature of things, nor the consequence of thy reasons." "Again," quoth she, "if there be two to whom the same thing is proposed according to nature, and the one of them bringeth it perfectly to pass with his natural function, but the other cannot exercise that natural function but after another manner than is agreeable to nature, and doth not perform that which he had proposed, but imitateth the other who performeth it: which of these two wilt thou judge to be more powerful?" "Though I conjecture," quoth I, "at thy meaning, yet I desire to hear it more plainly." "Wilt thou deny," quoth she, "that the motion of walking is agreeable to the nature of men?" "No," quoth I. "And makest thou any doubt that the function of it doth naturally belong to the feet?" "There is no doubt of this neither," quoth I. "Wherefore if one that can go upon his feet doth walk, and another who hath not this natural function of his feet endeavoureth to walk by creeping upon his hands, which of these two is deservedly to be esteemed the stronger?" "Infer the rest," quoth I, "for no man doubteth but that he which can use that natural function is stronger than he which cannot." "But," quoth she, "the good seek to obtain the chiefest good, which is equally proposed to bad and good, by the natural function of virtues, but the evil endeavour to obtain the same by divers concupiscences, which are not the natural function of obtaining goodness. Thinkest thou otherwise?" "No," quoth I, "for it is manifest what followeth. For by the force of that which I have already granted, it is necessary that good men are powerful and evil men weak."
"Thou runnest before rightly," quoth she, "and it is (as physicians are wont to hope) a token of an erected and resisting nature. Wherefore, since I see thee most apt and willing to comprehend, I will therefore heap up many reasons together. For consider the great weakness of vicious men, who cannot come so far as their natural intention leadeth and almost compelleth them. And what if they were destitute of this so great and almost invincible help of the direction of nature? Ponder likewise the immense impotency of wicked men. For they are no light or trifling rewards[145] which they desire, and cannot obtain: but they fail in the very sum and top of things: neither can the poor wretches compass that which they only labour for nights and days: in which thing the forces of the good eminently appear. For as thou wouldst judge him to be most able to walk who going on foot could come as far as there were any place to go in: so must thou of force judge him most powerful who obtaineth the end of all that can be desired, beyond which there is nothing. Hence that which is opposite also followeth, that the same men are wicked and destitute of all forces. For why do they follow vices, forsaking virtues? By ignorance of that which is good? But what is more devoid of strength than blind ignorance? Or do they know what they should embrace, but passion driveth them headlong the contrary way? So also intemperance makes them frail, since they cannot strive against vice. Or do they wittingly and willingly forsake goodness, and decline to vices? But in this sort they leave not only to be powerful, but even to be at all. For they which leave the common end of all things which are, leave also being. Which may perhaps seem strange to some, that we should say that evil men are not at all, who are the greatest part of men: but yet it is so. For I deny not that evil men are evil, but withal I say that purely and simply they are not.
For as thou mayest call a carcase a dead man, but not simply a man, so I confess that the vicious are evil, but I cannot grant that they are absolutely. For that is which retaineth order, and keepeth nature, but that which faileth from this leaveth also to be that which is in his own nature. But thou wilt say that evil men can do many things, neither will I deny it, but this their power proceedeth not from forces but from weakness. For they can do evil, which they could not do if they could have remained in the performance of that which is good. Which possibility declareth more evidently that they can do nothing. For if, as we concluded a little before, evil is nothing, since they can only do evil, it is manifest that the wicked can do nothing." "It is most manifest." "And that thou mayest understand what the force of this power is; we determined a little before that there is nothing more powerful than the Sovereign Goodness." "It is true," quoth I. "But He cannot do evil." "No." "Is there any then," quoth she, "that think that men can do all things?" "No man, except he be mad, thinketh so." "But yet men can do evil." "I would to God they could not," quoth I. "Since therefore he that can only do good, can do all things, and they who can do evil, cannot do all things, it is manifest that they which can do evil are less potent. Moreover, we have proved that all power is to be accounted among those things which are to be wished for, and that all such things have reference to goodness, as to the very height of their nature. But the possibility of committing wickedness cannot have reference to goodness. Wherefore it is not to be wished for. Yet all power is to be wished for; and consequently it is manifest, possibility of evil is no power. By all which the power of the good and the undoubted infirmity of evil appeareth. And it is manifest that the sentence of Plato is true: that only wise men can do that which they desire, and that the wicked men practise indeed what they list, but cannot perform what they would. For they do what they list, thinking to obtain the good which they desire by those things which cause them delight; but they obtain it not, because shameful action cannot arrive to happiness.[146]
[144] The whole of this and of the following chapter is a paraphrase of Plato'sGorgias.
[145] Cf. Virgil,Aen.xii. 764.
[146] Cf. Plato,Gorgias, 468, 469;Alcibiades I.134 c.
Quos uides sedere celsos solii culmine regesPurpura claros nitente saeptos tristibus armisOre toruo comminantes rabie cordis anhelos,Detrahat si quis superbis uani tegmina cultus,Iam uidebit intus artas dominos ferre catenas. 5Hinc enim libido uersat auidis corda uenenis,Hinc flagellat ira mentem fluctus turbida tollensMaeror aut captos fatigat aut spes lubrica torquetErgo cum caput tot unum cernas ferre tyrannos,Non facit quod optat ipse dominis pressus iniquis. 10
The kings whom we beholdIn highest glory placed,And with rich purple graced,Compassed with soldiers bold;Whose countenance shows fierce threats,Who with rash fury chide,If any strip the prideFrom their vainglorious feats;He'll see them close oppressedWithin by galling chainsFor filthy lust there reignsAnd poisoneth their breast,Wrath often them perplexethRaising their minds like waves,Sorrow their power enslavesAnd sliding hope them vexeth.So many tyrants stillDwelling in one poor heart,Except they first departShe cannot have her will.
Videsne igitur quanto in caeno probra uoluantur, qua probitas luce resplendeat? In quo perspicuum est numquam bonis praemia numquam sua sceleribus deesse supplicia. Rerum etenim quae geruntur illud propter quod unaquaeque res geritur, eiusdem rei praemium esse non iniuria uideri potest, uti currendi in stadio propter quam curritur iacet praemium corona. Sed beatitudinem esse idem ipsum bonum propter quod omnia geruntur ostendimus. Est igitur humanis actibus ipsum bonum ueluti praemium commune propositum. Atqui hoc a bonis non potest separari neque enim bonus ultra iure uocabitur qui careat bono; quare probos mores sua praemia non relinquunt. Quantumlibet igitur saeuiant mali, sapienti tamen corona non decidet, non arescet. Neque enim probis animis proprium decus aliena decerpit improbitas. Quod si extrinsecus accepto laetaretur, poterat hoc uel alius quispiam uel ipse etiam qui contulisset auferre; sed quoniam id sua cuique probitas confert, tum suo praemio carebit, cum probus esse desierit. Postremo cum omne praemium idcirco appetatur quoniam bonum esse creditur, quis boni compotem praemii iudicet expertem? At cuius praemii? Omnium pulcherrimi maximique. Memento etenim corollarii illius quod paulo ante praecipuum dedi ac sic collige: cum ipsum bonum beatitudo sit, bonos omnes eo ipso quod boni sint fieri beatos liquet. Sed qui beati sint deos esse conuenit. Est igitur praemium bonorum quod nullus. deterat dies, nullius minuat potestas, nullius fuscet improbitas, deos fieri. Quae cum ita sint, de malorum quoque inseparabili poena dubitare sapiens nequeat. Nam cum bonum malumque item poenae atque praemium aduersa fronte dissideant, quae in boni praemio uidemus accedere eadem necesse est in mali poena contraria parte respondeant. Sicut igitur probis probitas ipsa fit praemium, ita improbis nequitia ipsa supplicium est. Iam uero quisquis afficitur poena, malo se affectum esse non dubitat. Si igitur sese ipsi aestimare uelint, possuntne sibi supplicii expertes uideri quos omnium malorum extrema nequitia non affecit modo uerum etiam uehementer infecit? Vide autem ex aduersa parte bonorum, quae improbos poena comitetur. Omne namque quod sit unum esse ipsumque unum bonum esse paulo ante didicisti, cui consequens est ut omne quod sit id etiam bonum esse uideatur. Hoc igitur modo quidquid a bono deficit esse desistit; quo fit ut mali desinant esse quod fuerant, sed fuisse homines adhuc ipsa humani corporis reliqua species ostentat. Quare uersi in malitiam humanam quoque amisere naturam. Sed cum ultra homines quemque prouehere sola probitas possit, necesse est ut quos ab humana condicione deiecit, infra hominis meritum detrudat improbitas. Euenit igitur, ut quem transformatum uitiis uideas hominem aestimare non possis. Auaritia feruet alienarum opum uiolentus ereptor? Lupi similem dixeris. Ferox atque inquies linguam litigiis exercet? Cani comparabis. Insidiator occultus subripuisse fraudibus gaudet? Vulpeculis exaequetur. Irae intemperans fremit? Leonis animum gestare credatur. Pauidus ac fugax non metuenda formidat? Ceruis similis habeatur. Segnis ac stupidus torpit? Asinum uiuit. Leuis atque inconstans studia permutat? Nihil auibus differt. Foedis inmundisque libidinibus immergitur? Sordidae suis uoluptate detinetur. Ita fit ut qui probitate deserta homo esse desierit, cum in diuinam condicionem transire non possit, uertatur in beluam.
Seest thou then in what mire wickedness wallows, and how clearly honesty shineth? By which it is manifest that the good are never without rewards, nor the evil without punishments. For in all things that are done that for which anything is done may deservedly seem the reward of that action, as to him that runneth a race, the crown for which he runneth is proposed as a reward. But we have showed that blessedness is the selfsame goodness for which all things are done. Wherefore this goodness is proposed as a common reward for all human actions, and this cannot be separated from those who are good. For he shall not rightly be any longer called good, who wanteth goodness; wherefore virtuous manners are not left without their due rewards. And how much so ever the evil do rage, yet the wise man's crown will not fade nor wither. For others' wickedness depriveth not virtuous minds of their proper glory. But if he should rejoice at anything which he hath from others, either he who gave it, or any other might take it away. But because every man's virtue is the cause of it, then only he shall want his reward when he leaveth to be virtuous. Lastly, since every reward is therefore desired because it is thought to be good, who can judge him to be devoid of reward, which hath goodness for his possession? But what reward hath he? The most beautiful and the greatest that can be. For remember thatcorollarium[147] which I presented thee with a little before, as with a rare and precious jewel, and infer thus: Since that goodness itself is happiness, it is manifest that all good men even by being good are made happy. But we agreed that happy men are gods. Wherefore the reward of good men, which no time can waste, no man's power diminish, no man's wickedness obscure, is to become gods. Which things being so, no wise man can any way doubt of the inseparable punishment of the evil. For since goodness and evil, punishment and reward, are opposite the one to the other, those things which we see fall out in the reward of goodness must needs be answerable in a contrary manner in the punishment of evil. Wherefore as to honest men honesty itself is a reward, so to the wicked their very wickedness is a punishment. And he that is punished doubteth not but that he is afflicted with the evil. Wherefore if they would truly consider their own estate, can they think themselves free from punishment, whom wickedness, the worst of all evils, doth not only touch but strongly infect? But weigh the punishment which accompanieth the wicked, by comparing it to the reward of the virtuous. For thou learnedst not long before that whatsoever is at all is one, and that unity is goodness, by which it followeth that whatsoever is must also be good. And in this manner, whatsoever falleth from goodness ceaseth to be, by which it followeth that evil men leave to be that which they were, but the shape of men, which they still retain, showeth them to have been men: wherefore by embracing wickedness they have lost the nature of men. But since virtue alone can exalt us above men, wickedness must needs cast those under the desert of men, which it hath bereaved of that condition. Wherefore thou canst not account him a man whom thou seest transformed by vices. Is the violent extorter of other men's goods carried away with his covetous desire? Thou mayest liken him to a wolf. Is the angry and unquiet man always contending and brawling? Thou mayest compare him to a dog. Doth the treacherous fellow rejoice that he hath deceived others with his hidden frauds? Let him be accounted no better than a fox. Doth the outrageous fret and fume? Let him be thought to have a lion's mind. Is the fearful and timorous afraid without cause? Let him be esteemed like to hares and deer. Is the slow and stupid always idle? He liveth an ass's life. Doth the light and unconstant change his courses? He is nothing different from the birds. Is he drowned in filthy and unclean lusts? He is entangled in the pleasure of a stinking sow. So that he who, leaving virtue, ceaseth to be a man, since he cannot be partaker of the divine condition, is turned into a beast.
[147]Vide supra, p. 270.
Vela Neritii ducisEt uagas pelago ratesEurus appulit insulae,Pulchra qua residens deaSolis edita semine 5Miscet hospitibus nouisTacta carmine pocula.Quos ut in uarios modosVertit herbipotens manus,Hunc apri facies tegit, 10Ille Marmaricus leoDente crescit et unguibus.Hic lupis nuper additus,Flere dum parat, ululat.Ille tigris ut Indica 15Tecta mitis obambulat.Sed licet uariis malisNumen Arcadis alitisObsitum miserans ducemPeste soluerit hospitis, 20Iam tamen mala remigesOre pocula traxerant,Iam sues CerealiaGlande pabula uerterantEt nihil manet integrum 25Voce corpore perditis.Sola mens stabilis superMonstra quae patitur gemit.O leuem nimium manumNec potentia gramina, 30Membra quae ualeant licet,Corda uertere non ualent!Intus est hominum uigorArce conditus abdita.Haec uenena potentius 35Detrahunt hominem sibiDira quae penitus meantNec nocentia corporiMentis uulnere saeuiunt."
The sails which wise Ulysses bore,And ships which in the seas long time did strayThe eastern wind drave to that shoreWhere the fair Goddess Lady Circe lay,Daughter by birth to Phoebus bright,Who with enchanted cups and charms did stayHer guests, deceived with their delightAnd into sundry figures them did change,Being most skilful in the mightAnd secret force of herbs and simples strange;Some like to savage boars, and someLike lions fierce, which daily use to rangeThrough Libya,[148] in tooth and claw become.Others are changed to the shape and guiseOf ravenous wolves, and waxing dumbUse howling in the stead of manly cries.Others like to the tiger rove[149]Which in the scorched Indian desert lies.And though the winged son of Jove[150]From these bewitchéd cups' delightful tasteTo keep the famous captain strove,Yet them the greedy mariners embracedWith much desire, till turned to swineInstead of bread they fed on oaken mast.Ruined in voice and form, no signRemains to them of any human grace;Only their minds unchanged repineTo see their bodies in such ugly case.O feeble hand and idle artWhich, though it could the outward limbs deface,Yet had no force to change the heart.For all the force of men given by God's armLies hidden in their inmost part.The poisons therefore which within them swarmMore deeply pierce, and with more might,For to the body though they do no harm,Yet on the soul they work their spite."
[148] Literally "Marmaric," i.e. properly, the region between Egypt and the great Syrtis; generally, African, cf. Lucan iii. 293.
[149] Literally, "rove tame round the house."
[150] i.e. Mercury who was born in Arcadia; cf. Virg.Aen.viii. 129-138.
Tum ego: "Fateor," inquam, "nec iniuria dici uideo uitiosos, tametsi humani corporis speciem seruent, in beluas tamen animorum qualitate mutari; sed quorum atrox scelerataque mens bonorum pernicie saeuit, id ipsum eis licere noluissem." "Nec licet," inquit, "uti conuenienti monstrabitur loco. Sed tamen si id ipsum quod eis licere creditur auferatur, magna ex parte sceleratorum hominum poena releuetur. Etenim quod incredibile cuiquam forte uideatur, infeliciores esse necesse est malos, cum cupita perfecerint, quam si ea quae cupiunt implere non possint. Nam si miserum est uoluisse praua, potuisse miserius est, sine quo uoluntatis miserae langueret effectus. Itaque cum sua singulis miseria sit, triplici infortunio necesse est urgeantur quos uideas scelus uelle, posse, perficere." "Accedo," inquam, "sed uti hoc infortunio cito careant patrandi sceleris possibilitate deserti uehementer exopto." "Carebunt," inquit, "ocius quam uel tu forsitan uelis uel illi sese aestiment esse carituros. Neque enim est aliquid in tam breuibus uitae metis ita serum quod exspectare longum immortalis praesertim animus putet: quorum magna spes et excelsa facinorum machina repentino atque insperato saepe fine destruitur, quod quidem illis miseriae modum statuit.
Nam si nequitia miseros facit, miserior sit necesse est diuturnior nequam; quos infelicissimos esse iudicarem, si non eorum malitiam saltem mors extrema finiret. Etenim si de prauitatis infortunio uera conclusimus, infinitam liquet esse miseriam quam esse constat aeternam." Tum ego: "Mira quidem," inquam, "et concessu difficilis inlatio, sed his eam quae prius concessa sunt nimium conuenire cognosco." "Recte," inquit, "aestimas. Sed qui conclusioni accedere durum putat, aequum est uel falsum aliquid praecessisse demonstret uel collocationem propositionum non esse efficacem necessariae conclusionis ostendat; alioquin concessis praecedentibus nihil prorsus est quod de inlatione causetur. Nam hoc quoque quod dicam non minus mirum uideatur, sed ex his quae sumpta sunt aeque est necessarium." "Quidnam?" inquam. "Feliciores," inquit, "esse improbos supplicia luentes quam si eos nulla iustitiae poena coerceat. Neque id nunc molior quod cuiuis ueniat in mentem, corrigi ultione prauos mores et ad rectum supplicii terrore deduci, ceteris quoque exemplum esse culpanda fugiendi, sed alio quodam modo infeliciores esse improbos arbitror impunitos, tametsi nulla ratio correctionis, nullus respectus habeatur exempli." "Et quis erit," inquam, "praeter hos alius modus?" Et illa: "Bonos," inquit, "esse felices, malos uero miseros nonne concessimus?" "Ita est," inquam. "Si igitur," inquit, "miseriae cuiuspiam bonum aliquid addatur, nonne felicior est eo cuius pura ac solitaria sine cuiusquam boni admixtione miseria est?" "Sic," inquam, "uidetur." "Quid si eidem misero qui cunctis careat bonis, praeter ea quibus miser est malum aliud fuerit adnexum, nonne multo infelicior eo censendus est cuius infortunium boni participatione releuatur?" "Quidni?" inquam. "Sed puniri improbos iustum, impunitos uero elabi iniquum esse manifestum est." "Quis id neget?" "Sed ne illud quidem," ait, "quisquam negabit bonum esse omne quod iustum est contraque quod iniustum est malum." Liquere, respondi.[151] "Habent igitur improbi, cum puniuntur, quidem boni aliquid adnexum poenam ipsam scilicet quae ratione iustitiae bona est, idemque cum supplicio carent, inest eis aliquid ulterius mali ipsa impunitas quam iniquitatis merito malum esse confessus es." "Negare non possum." "Multo igitur infeliciores improbi sunt iniusta impunitate donati quam iusta ultione puniti." Tum ego: "Ista quidem consequentia sunt eis quae paulo ante conclusa sunt.
Sed quaeso," inquam, "te, nullane animarum supplicia post defunctum morte corpus relinquis?" "Et magna quidem," inquit, "quorum alia poenali acerbitate, alia uero purgatoria clementia exerceri puto. Sed nunc de his disserere consilium non est. Id uero hactenus egimus, ut quae indignissima tibi uidebatur malorum potestas eam nullam esse cognosceres quosque impunitos querebare, uideres numquam improbitatis suae carere suppliciis, licentiam quam cito finiri precabaris nec longam esse disceres infelicioremque fore, si diuturnior, infelicissimam uero, si esset aeterna; post haec miseriores esse improbos iniusta impunitate dimissos quam iusta ultione punitos. Cui sententiae consequens est ut tum demum grauioribus suppliciis urgeantur, cum impuniti esse creduntur."
Tum ego: "Cum tuas," inquam, "rationes considero, nihil dici uerius puto. At si ad hominum iudicia reuertar, quis ille est cui haec non credenda modo sed saltem audienda uideantur?" "Ita est," inquit illa. "Nequeunt enim oculos tenebris assuetos ad lucem perspicuae ueritatis attollere, similesque auibus sunt quarum intuitum nox inluminat dies caecat. Dum enim non rerum ordinem, sed suos intuentur affectus, uel licentiam uel impunitatem scelerum putant esse felicem. Vide autem quid aeterna lex sanciat. Melioribus animum conformaueris, nihil opus est iudice praemium deferente tu te ipse excellentioribus addidisti. Studium ad peiora deflexeris, extra ne quaesieris ultorem. Tu te ipse in deteriora trusisti, ueluti si uicibus sordidam humum caelumque respicias, cunctis extra cessantibus ipsa cernendi ratione nunc caeno nunc sideribus interesse uidearis. At uulgus ista non respicit. Quid igitur? Hisne accedamus quos beluis similes esse monstrauimus? Quid si quis amisso penitus uisu ipsum etiam se habuisse obliuisceretur intuitum nihilque sibi ad humanam perfectionem deesse arbitraretur, num uidentes eadem caecos putaremus? Nam ne illud quidem adquiescent quod aeque ualidis rationum nititur firmamentis: infeliciores eos esse qui faciant quam qui patiantur iniuriam." "Vellem," inquam, "has ipsas audire rationes." "Omnem," inquit, "improbum num supplicio dignum negas?" "Minime." "Infelices uero esse qui sint improbi multipliciter liquet." "Ita," inquam. "Qui igitur supplicio digni sunt miseros esse non dubitas?" "Conuenit," inquam. "Si igitur cognitor," ait, "resideres, cui supplicium inferendum putares, eine qui fecisset an qui pertulisset iniuriam?" "Nec ambigo," inquam, "quin perpesso satisfacerem dolore facientis." "Miserior igitur tibi iniuriae inlator quam acceptor esse uideretur." "Consequitur," inquam. "Hinc igitur aliis de causis ea radice nitentibus, quod turpitudo suapte natura miseros faciat, apparet inlatam cuilibet iniuriam non accipientis sed inferentis esse miseriam." "Atqui nunc," ait, "contra faciunt oratores. Pro his enim qui graue quid acerbumque perpessi sunt miserationem iudicum excitare conantur, cum magis admittentibus iustior miseratio debeatur; quos non ab iratis sed a propitiis potius miserantibusque accusatoribus ad iudicium ueluti aegros ad medicum duci oportebat, ut culpae morbos supplicio resecarent. Quo pacto defensorum opera uel tota frigeret, uel si prodesse hominibus mallet, in accusationis habitum uerteretur, Ipsi quoque improbi, si eis aliqua rimula uirtutem relictam fas esset aspicere uitiorumque sordes poenarum cruciatibus se deposituros uiderent compensatione adipiscendae probitatis, nec hos cruciatus esse ducerent defensorumque operam repudiarent ac se totos accusatoribus iudicibusque permitterent. Quo fit ut apud sapientes nullus prorsus odio locus relinquatur. Nam bonos quis nisi stultissimus oderit? Malos uero odisse ratione caret. Nam si, uti corporum languor, ita uitiositas quidam est quasi morbus animorum, cum aegros corpore minime dignos odio sed potius miseratione iudicemus, multo magis non insequendi sed miserandi sunt quorum mentes omni languore atrocior urget improbitas.
[151] Sed puniri … respondiquae infra(in pag. 328 l. 73)postultioni punitiin codicibus habentur huc transponenda esse censuit P. Langenus, demonstrauit A. Engelbrecht.
Then said I, "I confess and perceive that thou affirmest not without cause that the vicious, though they keep the outward shape of men, are in their inward state of mind changed into brute beasts. But I would have had them whose cruel and wicked heart rageth to the harm of the good, restrained from executing their malice." "They are restrained," quoth she, "as shall be proved in convenient place. But yet if this liberty which they seem to have be taken away, their punishment also is in great part released. For (which perhaps to some may seem incredible) evil men must necessarily be more unhappy when they have brought to pass their purposes than if they could not obtain what they desire. For if it be a miserable thing to desire that which is evil, it is more miserable to be able to perform it, without which the miserable will could not have any effect. Wherefore since everyone of these hath their peculiar misery, they must of force be oppressed with a threefold wretchedness, whom thou seest desire, be able, and perform wickedness." "I grant it," quoth I, "but earnestly wish that they may soon be delivered from this misery, having lost the power to perform their malice." "They will lose it," quoth she, "sooner than perhaps either thou wouldst, or they themselves suppose. For in the short compass of this life there is nothing so late that any one, least of all an immortal soul, should think it long in coming; so that the great hope and highest attempts of the wicked are many times made frustrate with a sudden and unexpected end, which in truth setteth some end to their misery.
For if wickedness make men miserable, the longer one is wicked, the more miserable he must needs be; and I should judge them the most unhappy men that may be, if death at least did not end their malice. For if we have concluded truly of the misery of wickedness, it is manifest that the wretchedness which is everlasting must of force be infinite." "A strange illation," quoth I, "and hard to be granted; but I see that those things which were granted before agree very well with these." "Thou thinkest aright," quoth she, "but he that findeth difficulty to yield to the conclusion must either show that something which is presupposed is false, or that the combination of the propositions makes not a necessary conclusion; otherwise, granting that which went before, he hath no reason to doubt of the inference. For this also which I will conclude now will seem no less strange, and yet followeth as necessarily out of those things which are already assumed." "What?" quoth I. "That wicked men," quoth she, "are more happy being punished than if they escaped the hands of justice. Neither do I now go about to show that which may come into every man's mind, that evil customs are corrected by chastisement, and are reduced to virtue by the terror of punishment, and that others may take example to avoid evil, but in another manner also I think vicious men that go unpunished to be more miserable, although we take no account of correction and pay no regard to example." "And what other manner shall this be," quoth I, "besides these?" "Have we not granted," quoth she, "that the good are happy, and the evil miserable?" "We have," quoth I. "If then," quoth she, "something that is good be added to one's misery, is he not happier than another whose misery is desolate and solitary, without any participation of goodness?" "So it seemeth," quoth I. "What if there be some other evil annexed to this miserable man who is deprived of all goodness, besides those which make him miserable, is he not to be accounted much more unhappy than he whose misery is lightened by partaking of goodness?" "Why not?" quoth I. "But it is manifest that it is just that the wicked be punished, and unjust that they should go unpunished." "Who can deny that?" "But neither will any man deny this," quoth she, "that whatsoever is just, is good, and contrariwise, that whatsoever is unjust, is evil." "Certainly," I answered. "Then the wicked have some good annexed when they are punished, to wit, the punishment itself, which by reason of justice is good, and when they are not punished, they have a further evil, the very impunity which thou hast deservedly granted to be an evil because of its injustice." "I cannot deny it." "Wherefore the vicious are far more unhappy by escaping punishment unjustly, than by being justly punished." "This followeth," quoth I, "out of that which hath been concluded before.
But I pray thee, leavest thou no punishments for the souls after the death of the body?" "And those great too," quoth she. "Some of which I think to be executed as sharp punishments, and others as merciful purgations.[152] But I purpose not now to treat of those. But we have hitherto laboured that thou shouldest perceive the power of the wicked, which to thee seemed intolerable, to be none at all, and that thou shouldest see, that those whom thou complainedst went unpunished, do never escape without punishment for their wickedness. And that thou shouldest learn that the licence which thou wishedst might soon end, is not long, and yet the longer the more miserable, and most unhappy if it were everlasting. Besides, that the wicked are more wretched being permitted to escape with unjust impunity, than being punished with just severity. Out of which it followeth that they are then more grievously punished, when they are thought to go scot-free."
"When I consider thy reasons," quoth I, "I think nothing can be said more truly. But if I return to the judgments of men, who is there that will think them worthy to be believed or so much as heard?" "It is true," quoth she, "for they cannot lift up their eyes accustomed to darkness, to behold the light of manifest truth, and they are like those birds whose sight is quickened by the night, and dimmed by the day. For while they look upon, not the order of things, but their own affections, they think that licence and impunity to sin is happy. But see what the eternal law establisheth. If thou apply thy mind to the better, thou needest no judge to reward thee: thou hast joined thyself to the more excellent things. If thou declinest to that which is worse, never expect any other to punish thee: thou hast put thyself in a miserable estate; as if by turns thou lookest down to the miry ground, and up to heaven, setting aside all outward causes, by the very law of sight thou seemest sometime to be in the dirt, and sometime present to the stars. But the common sort considereth not these things. What then? Shall we join ourselves to them whom we have proved to be like beasts? What if one having altogether lost his sight should likewise forget that he ever had any, and should think that he wanted nothing which belongeth to human perfection: should we likewise think them blind, that see as well as they saw before? For they will not grant that neither, which may be proved by as forcible reasons, that they are more unhappy that do injury than they which suffer it." "I would," quoth I, "hear these reasons." "Deniest thou," quoth she, "that every wicked man deserveth punishment?" "No." "And it is many ways clear that the vicious are miserable?" "Yes," quoth I. "Then you do not doubt that those who deserve punishment are wretched?" "It is true," quoth I. "If then," quoth she, "thou wert to examine this cause, whom wouldest thou appoint to be punished, him that did or that suffered wrong?" "I doubt not," quoth I, "but that I would satisfy him that suffered with the sorrow of him that did it." "The offerer of the injury then would seem to thee more miserable than the receiver?" "It followeth," quoth I. "Hence therefore, and for other causes grounded upon that principle that dishonesty of itself maketh men miserable, it appeareth that the injury which is offered any man is not the receiver's but the doer's misery." "But now-a-days," quoth she, "orators take the contrary course. For they endeavour to draw the judges to commiseration of them who have suffered any grievous afflictions; whereas pity is more justly due to the causers thereof, who should be brought, not by angry, but rather by favourable and compassionate accusers to judgment, as it were sick men to a physician, that their diseases and faults might be taken away by punishments; by which means the defenders' labour would either wholly cease, or if they had rather do their clients some good, they would change their defence into accusations. And the wicked themselves, if they could behold virtue abandoned by them, through some little rift, and perceive that they might be delivered from the filth of sin by the affliction of punishments, obtaining virtue in exchange, they would not esteem of torments, and would refuse the assistance of their defenders, and wholly resign themselves to their accusers and judges. By which means it cometh to pass, that in wise men there is no place for hatred. For who but a very fool would hate the good? And to hate the wicked were against reason. For as faintness is a disease of the body, so is vice a sickness of the mind. Wherefore, since we judge those that have corporal infirmities to be rather worthy of compassion than of hatred, much more are they to be pitied, and not abhorred, whose minds are oppressed with wickedness, the greatest malady that may be.
[152] See discussion of this passage inBoethius, An Essay,H. F. Stewart (1891), pp. 98 ff.
Quod tantos iuuat excitare motusEt propria fatum sollicitare manu?Si mortem petitis, propinquat ipsaSponte sua uolucres nec remoratur equos.Quos serpens leo tigris ursus aper 5Dente petunt, idem se tamen ense petunt.An distant quia dissidentque mores,Iniustas acies et fera bella mouentAlternisque uolunt perire telis?Non est iusta satis saeuitiae ratio. 10Vis aptam meritis uicem referre?Dilige iure bonos et miseresce malis."