<h3><SPAN name="Page_215" id="Page_215" />VII.</h3>
<p>'Dost thou, then, see the consequence of all that we have said?'</p>
<p>'Nay; what consequence?'</p>
<p>'That absolutely every fortune is good fortune.'</p>
<p>'And how can that be?' said I.</p>
<p>'Attend,' said she. 'Since every fortune, welcome and unwelcome alike,
has for its object the reward or trial of the good, and the punishing or
amending of the bad, every fortune must be good, since it is either just
or useful.'</p>
<p>'The reasoning is exceeding true,' said I, 'the conclusion, so long as I
reflect upon the providence and fate of which thou hast taught me, based
on a strong foundation. Yet, with thy leave, we will count it among
those which just now thou didst set down as paradoxical.'</p>
<p>'And why so?' said she.</p>
<p>'Because ordinary speech is apt to <SPAN name="Page_216" id="Page_216" />assert, and that frequently, that
some men's fortune is bad.'</p>
<p>'Shall we, then, for awhile approach more nearly to the language of the
vulgar, that we may not seem to have departed too far from the usages of
men?'</p>
<p>'At thy good pleasure,' said I.</p>
<p>'That which advantageth thou callest good, dost thou not?'</p>
<p>'Certainly.'</p>
<p>'And that which either tries or amends advantageth?'</p>
<p>'Granted.'</p>
<p>'Is good, then?'</p>
<p>'Of course.'</p>
<p>'Well, this is <em>their</em> case who have attained virtue and wage war with
adversity, or turn from vice and lay hold on the path of virtue.'</p>
<p>'I cannot deny it.'</p>
<p>'What of the good fortune which is given as reward of the good—do the
vulgar adjudge it bad?'</p>
<p>'Anything but that; they deem it to be the best, as indeed it is.'</p>
<p>'What, then, of that which remains, which, though it is harsh, puts the
restraint <SPAN name="Page_217" id="Page_217" />of just punishment on the bad—does popular opinion deem it
good?'</p>
<p>'Nay; of all that can be imagined, it is accounted the most miserable.'</p>
<p>'Observe, then, if, in following popular opinion, we have not ended in a
conclusion quite paradoxical.'</p>
<p>'How so?' said I.</p>
<p>'Why, it results from our admissions that of all who have attained, or
are advancing in, or are aiming at virtue, the fortune is in every case
good, while for those who remain in their wickedness fortune is always
utterly bad.'</p>
<p>'It is true,' said I; 'yet no one dare acknowledge it.'</p>
<p>'Wherefore,' said she, 'the wise man ought not to take it ill, if ever
he is involved in one of fortune's conflicts, any more than it becomes a
brave soldier to be offended when at any time the trumpet sounds for
battle. The time of trial is the express opportunity for the one to win
glory, for the other to perfect his wisdom. Hence, indeed, virtue gets
its name, because, relying on its own efficacy, it yieldeth not to
adversity. And ye who <SPAN name="Page_218" id="Page_218" />have taken your stand on virtue's steep ascent,
it is not for you to be dissolved in delights or enfeebled by pleasure;
ye close in conflict—yea, in conflict most sharp—with all fortune's
vicissitudes, lest ye suffer foul fortune to overwhelm or fair fortune
to corrupt you. Hold the mean with all your strength. Whatever falls
short of this, or goes beyond, is fraught with scorn of happiness, and
misses the reward of toil. It rests with you to make your fortune what
you will. Verily, every harsh-seeming fortune, unless it either
disciplines or amends, is punishment.'<SPAN name="Page_219" id="Page_219" /></p>
<h3>SONG VII.<br/>The Hero's Path.</h3>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span>Ten years a tedious warfare raged,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Ere Ilium's smoking ruins paid<br/></span>
<span class="i2">For wedlock stained and faith betrayed,<br/></span>
<span>And great Atrides' wrath assuaged.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>But when heaven's anger asked a life,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">And baffling winds his course withstood,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The king put off his fatherhood,<br/></span>
<span>And slew his child with priestly knife.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>When by the cavern's glimmering light<br/></span>
<span class="i2">His comrades dear Odysseus saw<br/></span>
<span class="i2">In the huge Cyclops' hideous maw<br/></span>
<span>Engulfed, he wept the piteous sight.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>But blinded soon, and wild with pain—<br/></span>
<span class="i2">In bitter tears and sore annoy—<br/></span>
<span class="i2">For that foul feast's unholy joy<br/></span>
<span>Grim Polyphemus paid again.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>His labours for Alcides win<br/></span>
<span class="i2">A name of glory far and wide;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">He tamed the Centaur's haughty pride,<br/></span>
<span>And from the lion reft his skin.<br/></span><SPAN name="Page_220" id="Page_220" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>The foul birds with sure darts he slew;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The golden fruit he stole—in vain<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The dragon's watch; with triple chain<br/></span>
<span>From hell's depths Cerberus he drew.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>With their fierce lord's own flesh he fed<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The wild steeds; Hydra overcame<br/></span>
<span class="i2">With fire. 'Neath his own waves in shame<br/></span>
<span>Maimed Achelous hid his head.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>Huge Cacus for his crimes was slain;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">On Libya's sands Antæus hurled;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The shoulders that upheld the world<br/></span>
<span>The great boar's dribbled spume did stain.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>Last toil of all—his might sustained<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The ball of heaven, nor did he bend<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Beneath; this toil, his labour's end,<br/></span>
<span>The prize of heaven's high glory gained.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>Brave hearts, press on! Lo, heavenward lead<br/></span>
<span class="i2">These bright examples! From the fight<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Turn not your backs in coward flight;<br/></span>
<span>Earth's conflict won, the stars your meed!<br/></span></div>
</div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="Page_221" id="Page_221" />BOOK V.<br/> FREE WILL AND GOD'S FOREKNOWLEDGE.</h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p class="center">SUMMARY.</p>
<p class="extend"> CH. I. Boethius asks if there is really any such thing as chance.
Philosophy answers, in conformity with Aristotle's definition
(Phys., II. iv.), that chance is merely relative to human purpose,
and that what seems fortuitous really depends on a more subtle form
of causation.—CH. II. Has man, then, any freedom, if the reign of
law is thus absolute? Freedom of choice, replies Philosophy, is a
necessary attribute of reason. Man has a measure of freedom, though
a less perfect freedom than divine natures.—CH. III. But how can
man's freedom be reconciled with God's absolute foreknowledge? If
God's foreknowledge be certain, it seems to exclude the possibility
of man's free will. But<SPAN name="Page_222" id="Page_222" /> if man has no freedom of choice, it
follows that rewards and punishments are unjust as well as useless;
that merit and demerit are mere names; that God is the cause of
men's wickednesses; that prayer is meaningless.—CH. IV. The
explanation is that man's reasoning faculties are not adequate to
the apprehension of the ways of God's foreknowledge. If we could
know, as He knows, all that is most perplexing in this problem
would be made plain. For knowledge depends not on the nature of the
thing known, but on the faculty of the knower.—CH. V. Now, where
our senses conflict with our reason, we defer the judgment of the
lower faculty to the judgment of the higher. Our present perplexity
arises from our viewing God's foreknowledge from the standpoint of
human reason. We must try and rise to the higher standpoint of
God's immediate intuition.—CH. VI. To understand this higher form
of cognition, we must consider God's nature. God is eternal.
Eternity is more than mere everlasting duration. Accordingly, His
knowledge surveys past and future in the timelessness of an eternal
present. His foreseeing is seeing. Yet this foreseeing does not in
itself impose necessity, any more than our seeing things happen
makes their happening necessary. We may, however, if we please,
distinguish two necessities—one absolute, the other conditional on
knowledge. In<SPAN name="Page_223" id="Page_223" /> this conditional sense alone do the things which God
foresees necessarily come to pass. But this kind of necessity
affects not the nature of things. It leaves the reality of free
will unimpaired, and the evils feared do not ensue. Our
responsibility is great, since all that we do is done in the sight
of all-seeing Providence. <SPAN name="Page_224" id="Page_224" /></p>
</div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />