BestLightNovel.com

The Consolation of Philosophy Part 7

The Consolation of Philosophy - BestLightNovel.com

You’re reading novel The Consolation of Philosophy Part 7 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy

Though royal purple soothes his pride, And snowy pearls his neck adorn, Nero in all his riot lives The mark of universal scorn.

Yet he on reverend heads conferred Th' inglorious honours of the state.

Shall we, then, deem them truly blessed Whom such preferment hath made great?

V.

'Well, then, does sovereignty and the intimacy of kings prove able to confer power? Why, surely does not the happiness of kings endure for ever? And yet antiquity is full of examples, and these days also, of kings whose happiness has turned into calamity. How glorious a power, which is not even found effectual for its own preservation! But if happiness has its source in sovereign power, is not happiness diminished, and misery inflicted in its stead, in so far as that power falls short of completeness? Yet, however widely human sovereignty be extended, there must still be more peoples left, over whom each several king holds no sway. Now, at whatever point the power on which happiness depends ceases, here powerlessness steals in and makes wretchedness; so, by this way of reckoning, there must needs be a balance of wretchedness in the lot of the king. The tyrant who had made trial of the perils of his condition figured the fears that haunt a throne under the image of a sword hanging over a man's head.[G] What sort of power, then, is this which cannot drive away the gnawings of anxiety, or shun the stings of terror? Fain would they themselves have lived secure, but they cannot; then they boast about their power! Dost thou count him to possess power whom thou seest to wish what he cannot bring to pa.s.s? Dost thou count him to possess power who encompa.s.ses himself with a body-guard, who fears those he terrifies more than they fear him, who, to keep up the semblance of power, is himself at the mercy of his slaves? Need I say anything of the friends of kings, when I show royal dominion itself so utterly and miserably weak--why ofttimes the royal power in its plenitude brings them low, ofttimes involves them in its fall? Nero drove his friend and preceptor, Seneca, to the choice of the manner of his death. Antoninus exposed Papinia.n.u.s, who was long powerful at court, to the swords of the soldiery. Yet each of these was willing to renounce his power. Seneca tried to surrender his wealth also to Nero, and go into retirement; but neither achieved his purpose. When they tottered, their very greatness dragged them down. What manner of thing, then, is this power which keeps men in fear while they possess it--which when thou art fain to keep, thou art not safe, and when thou desirest to lay it aside thou canst not rid thyself of? Are friends any protection who have been attached by fortune, not by virtue? Nay; him whom good fortune has made a friend, ill fortune will make an enemy. And what plague is more effectual to do hurt than a foe of one's own household?'

FOOTNOTES:

[G] The sword of Damocles.

SONG V.

SELF-MASTERY.

Who on power sets his aim, First must his own spirit tame; He must shun his neck to thrust 'Neath th' unholy yoke of l.u.s.t.

For, though India's far-off land Bow before his wide command, Utmost Thule homage pay-- If he cannot drive away Haunting care and black distress, In his power, he's powerless.

VI.

'Again, how misleading, how base, a thing ofttimes is glory! Well does the tragic poet exclaim:

'"Oh, fond Repute, how many a time and oft Hast them raised high in pride the base-born churl!"

For many have won a great name through the mistaken beliefs of the mult.i.tude--and what can be imagined more shameful than that? Nay, they who are praised falsely must needs themselves blush at their own praises! And even when praise is won by merit, still, how does it add to the good conscience of the wise man who measures his good not by popular repute, but by the truth of inner conviction? And if at all it does seem a fair thing to get this same renown spread abroad, it follows that any failure so to spread it is held foul. But if, as I set forth but now, there must needs be many tribes and peoples whom the fame of any single man cannot reach, it follows that he whom thou esteemest glorious seems all inglorious in a neighbouring quarter of the globe. As to popular favour, I do not think it even worthy of mention in this place, since it never cometh of judgment, and never lasteth steadily.

'Then, again, who does not see how empty, how foolish, is the fame of n.o.ble birth? Why, if the n.o.bility is based on renown, the renown is another's! For, truly, n.o.bility seems to be a sort of reputation coming from the merits of ancestors. But if it is the praise which brings renown, of necessity it is they who are praised that are famous.

Wherefore, the fame of another clothes thee not with splendour if thou hast none of thine own. So, if there is any excellence in n.o.bility of birth, methinks it is this alone--that it would seem to impose upon the n.o.bly born the obligation not to degenerate from the virtue of their ancestors.'

SONG VI.

TRUE n.o.bILITY.

All men are of one kindred stock, though scattered far and wide; For one is Father of us all--one doth for all provide.

He gave the sun his golden beams, the moon her silver horn; He set mankind upon the earth, as stars the heavens adorn.

He shut a soul--a heaven-born soul--within the body's frame; The n.o.ble origin he gave each mortal wight may claim.

Why boast ye, then, so loud of race and high ancestral line?

If ye behold your being's source, and G.o.d's supreme design, None is degenerate, none base, unless by taint of sin And cherished vice he foully stain his heavenly origin.

VII.

'Then, what shall I say of the pleasures of the body? The l.u.s.t thereof is full of uneasiness; the sating, of repentance. What sicknesses, what intolerable pains, are they wont to bring on the bodies of those who enjoy them--the fruits of iniquity, as it were! Now, what sweetness the stimulus of pleasure may have I do not know. But that the issues of pleasure are painful everyone may understand who chooses to recall the memory of his own fleshly l.u.s.ts. Nay, if these can make happiness, there is no reason why the beasts also should not be happy, since all their efforts are eagerly set upon satisfying the bodily wants. I know, indeed, that the sweetness of wife and children should be right comely, yet only too true to nature is what was said of one--that he found in his sons his tormentors. And how galling such a contingency would be, I must needs put thee in mind, since thou hast never in any wise suffered such experiences, nor art thou now under any uneasiness. In such a case, I agree with my servant Euripides, who said that a man without children was fortunate in his misfortune.'[H]

FOOTNOTES:

[H] Paley translates the lines in Euripides' 'Andromache': 'They [the childless] are indeed spared from much pain and sorrow, but their supposed happiness is after all but wretchedness.' Euripides' meaning is therefore really just the reverse of that which Boethius makes it. See Euripides, 'Andromache,' Il. 418-420.

SONG VII.

PLEASURE'S STING.

This is the way of Pleasure: She stings them that despoil her; And, like the winged toiler Who's lost her honeyed treasure, She flies, but leaves her smart Deep-rankling in the heart.

VIII.

'It is beyond doubt, then, that these paths do not lead to happiness; they cannot guide anyone to the promised goal. Now, I will very briefly show what serious evils are involved in following them. Just consider.

Is it thy endeavour to heap up money? Why, thou must wrest it from its present possessor! Art thou minded to put on the splendour of official dignity? Thou must beg from those who have the giving of it; thou who covetest to outvie others in honour must lower thyself to the humble posture of pet.i.tion. Dost thou long for power? Thou must face perils, for thou wilt be at the mercy of thy subjects' plots. Is glory thy aim?

Thou art lured on through all manner of hards.h.i.+ps, and there is an end to thy peace of mind. Art fain to lead a life of pleasure? Yet who does not scorn and contemn one who is the slave of the weakest and vilest of things--the body? Again, on how slight and perishable a possession do they rely who set before themselves bodily excellences! Can ye ever surpa.s.s the elephant in bulk or the bull in strength? Can ye excel the tiger in swiftness? Look upon the infinitude, the solidity, the swift motion, of the heavens, and for once cease to admire things mean and worthless. And yet the heavens are not so much to be admired on this account as for the reason which guides them. Then, how transient is the l.u.s.tre of beauty! how soon gone!--more fleeting than the fading bloom of spring flowers. And yet if, as Aristotle says, men should see with the eyes of Lynceus, so that their sight might pierce through obstructions, would not that body of Alcibiades, so gloriously fair in outward seeming, appear altogether loathsome when all its inward parts lay open to the view? Therefore, it is not thy own nature that makes thee seem beautiful, but the weakness of the eyes that see thee. Yet prize as unduly as ye will that body's excellences; so long as ye know that this that ye admire, whatever its worth, can be dissolved away by the feeble flame of a three days' fever. From all which considerations we may conclude as a whole, that these things which cannot make good the advantages they promise, which are never made perfect by the a.s.semblage of all good things--these neither lead as by-ways to happiness, nor themselves make men completely happy.'

SONG VIII.

HUMAN FOLLY.

Alas! how wide astray Doth Ignorance these wretched mortals lead From Truth's own way!

For not on leafy stems Do ye within the green wood look for gold, Nor strip the vine for gems;

Your nets ye do not spread Upon the hill-tops, that the groaning board With fish be furnished; If ye are fain to chase The bounding goat, ye sweep not in vain search The ocean's ruffled face.

The sea's far depths they know, Each hidden nook, wherein the waves o'erwash The pearl as white as snow; Where lurks the Tyrian sh.e.l.l, Where fish and p.r.i.c.kly urchins do abound, All this they know full well.

Please click Like and leave more comments to support and keep us alive.

RECENTLY UPDATED MANGA

The Consolation of Philosophy Part 7 summary

You're reading The Consolation of Philosophy. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius. Already has 618 views.

It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.

BestLightNovel.com is a most smartest website for reading manga online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to BestLightNovel.com