Part 2 (2/2)

'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 const.i.tuted 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 pa.s.sion may be scattered, and thou mayst come to discern the splendour of the true light.'

SONG VII.

THE PERTURBATIONS OF Pa.s.sION.

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.

BOOK II.

THE VANITY OF FORTUNE'S GIFTS

Summary

CH. I. Philosophy reproves Boethius for the foolishness of his complaints against Fortune. Her very nature is caprice.--CH. II.

Philosophy in Fortune's name replies to Boethius' reproaches, and proves that the gifts of Fortune are hers to give and to take away.--CH. III. Boethius falls back upon his present sense of misery. Philosophy reminds him of the brilliancy of his former fortunes.--CH. IV. Boethius objects that the memory of past happiness is the bitterest portion of the lot of the unhappy.

Philosophy shows that much is still left for which he may be thankful. None enjoy perfect satisfaction with their lot. But happiness depends not on anything which Fortune can give. It is to be sought within.--CH. V. All the gifts of Fortune are external; they can never truly be our own. Man cannot find his good in worldly possessions. Riches bring anxiety and trouble.--CH. VI.

High place without virtue is an evil, not a good. Power is an empty name.--CH. VII. Fame is a thing of little account when compared with the immensity of the Universe and the endlessness of Time.--CH. VIII. One service only can Fortune do, when she reveals her own nature and distinguishes true friends from false.

BOOK II.

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