portrait of Boethius 
SEVERINUS BOETIUS. ANICIUS MANLIUS  Ex veteri Natua marmorea qu●… est Roma.   

ANICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOETIUS, OF THE CONSOLATION OF Philosophy.  
In Five BOOKS.  
Made English and Illustrated with NOTES, By the Right Honourable RICHARD Lord Viscount PRESTON.  
LONDON, Printed by J. D. for Awnsham and John Churchill, at the Black Swan in Pater-noster-Row; and Francis Hildyard Bookseller in York. MDCXCV.   

TO THE READER.  
A Long Retirement in the Country having afforded me many Hours of leisure, I considered that I could not employ them better than in giving an English Dress to this Part of the Works of Boetius, entitled, Of the Consolation of Philosophy.  
Chaucer, the ancient Poet of our Nation, was the first whom I find to have attempted a Translation of this Book into our Tongue: but that is now almost as unintelligible to the English Reader as the Original is; the Alterations of our Language, which he is said, before any of our Countrymen, to have endeavoured to refine, having been very many and great since the times in which he flourished. I have also seen two other Translations, the one of them published in the Year 1609. The other only of four Books in that of 1674, imprinted at Oxford: and though I shall not censure either of them, I may modestly say, that I see nothing in them which may hinder me from offering one to the Public which may be more correct.  
In this small but most admirable Book are to be found great Variety of Learning, many weighty Sentences, much well-digested Morality, and exact Rules for Life. This, and the other Works of our Author, show him to have been a Man of comprehensive Learning, and of great Piety and Devotion; and his Constancy in Suffering makes him appear to have been of as great Virtue and Courage.  
He fell into ill Times, living when the Roman Empire was just expiring, being brought to its Period by the violent Eruptions of several Northern Nations which flowed down upon it like an impetuous Torrent; whose Force was not to be resisted, but did carry all things before it; it being then the Custom of those People who lived Northwards, beyond the Rhine and the Danow, born in an healthful and prolific Climate, to abandon their native Countries when they were over-stock'd, (as they often happened to be) and to seek new Habitations.  
By this Means the Face of Italy (and indeed of a great Part of Europe) was overspread with (Barbarism; Arts and Civility were buried in their own Ruins, and all was subjected to the Will and Violence of bloody Conquerors.  
In the worst of these Times this good Man endeavoured to maintain the Rights of his Country, and was the great Supporter of that small Part of the Roman Liberty which remained, desiring nothing more than to see it one day restored: but it was not the Pleasure of Heaven to grant his Desire; it rather thought fit to permit him to fall into the Hands of his Tormentors, whose Persecutions and Cruelties only ended with his Life, and under the more barbarous Treatment of those who gave a Liberty to their Tongues (as appeareth in several Parts of this Book) to traduce and vilify his afflicted Virtue, to debase and decry his Sufferings, who handled his Wounds without Compassion; and who, by stabbing his Fame and Reputation, became more criminal than those partial Judges who condemned him to Death, and more bloody than those Executioners who acted the Tragedy upon his Body.  
Hence it is that we may find him to have been the Subject of Reflection and Discourse to the Assemblies of the Pretenders to Policy, the Enquirers after and Tellers of News, who were generally the Knaves and Fools of his Country; and of those mean-spirited Men who being at a Distance from the Dangers and Misfortunes with which he was oppressed, thought they might safely pass a Censure upon his Actions and Carriage, like Plowers ploughing upon his Back, and making their Furrows long; and so, at his Expense, advance a little Trophy of Reputations to themselves, by pretending, perhaps, that their Demeanour should have been with more Firmness if they had been in his Circumstances, when most of them had not Souls, calmly, to think upon what he with Constancy and Bravery did endure.  
It is true that this way of treating Unfortunate, though Good Men, as it had a Beginning long before the Times of Boetius, so daily Experience shows that it hath been carefully continued since, even to our own, and will be carried on, doubtless, till all things shall have an End.  
He from whom Fortune hath withdrawn her kinder Influences, and upon whom those who, under God, govern the World do not think fit to shine, whatever his Merits may have been before, will find himself exposed to all the Injuries which his Superiors, Equals or Inferiors shall think good to heap upon him: He becometh a Reproof to all his Enemies, but especially amongst his Neighbours; his Kinsfolks and Acquaintance stand far off him, and are afraid of him; and they who see him without do convey themselves from him: He becomes like a broken Vessel, and is clean forgotten, like a dead Man out of Mind: He heareth the Blasphemy of the Multitude, (which is always as ill-grounded as it is loud) and the Drunkards make Songs upon him. So that the Observation made by the ingenious and learned Mr. Dryden, in his Dedication before the Translation of Juvenal, pag. 35, & 36. appears to be very just, which is, that amongst Men, those who are prosperously unjust are entitled to a Panegyric, but afflicted Virtue is insolently stabbed with all manner of Reproaches: No Decency is considered, no Fulsomness is omitted, no Venom is wanting so far as Dulness can supply it; for there is a perpetual Dearth of Wit, and Barrenness of good Sense and Entertainment.  
But these are the ordinary Turns of Providence, to which all Men ought to submit; as those who are endowed with Piety and good Sense do with Willingness, ever making the right Use of them, without being surprised at them; because they know that that Happiness is only to be found within themselves, which others so anxiously hope and seek for from foreign Objects.  
This makes the worst of Evils, Banishment or Death, to be endured with Cheerfulness by Men of great Souls, they knowing that the Persecution of this World is, to be the last Proof of their Patience and Fidelity; and that when that is at an end, their Virtue shall be rewarded and crowned.  
It now remains that I acquaint the Reader with the Design of this Book, and also that I say something concerning my Performance upon it.  
Our Philosopher here attempts to bring Man to a true Understanding of the Sovereign Good of humane Minds; for some time after the Creation of the World he lived, and acted according to the Divine Rules and the Law of Nature: but being fallen into a State of Sin and Impiety, he soon lost all his natural and glorious Ideas and Forms, and was no longer cherished with the kind Favours and Influences of Heaven as before he had been. Yet notwithstanding this unhappy Change, Vice had not so far obtained over Virtue, but humane Nature still had a Knowledge (though much fainter) of God; it searched after him who gave to it a Being, and urged itself on to desire and pursue Happiness. From hence it came to pass, that the Sages and Philosophers of several Ages differed much in their Opinions concerning the Summum Bonum, or Sovereign Good, or Happiness of humane Nature, as may be seen by their Writings, and the Histories which make mention of them; which Opinions I need not now to enumerate, they being so well known. But we, whom God hath blessed with greater and more certain Lights than Nature could afford, do now know well that our Happiness can consist in no other thing than in its Union with the Eternal Good: This being the highest Perfection of our Souls, it ought to incite us to pursue vigorously so Exalted and Seraphic a State of Life; which leads us to those Felicities which this World cannot show. Boetius therefore here demonstrates to us plainly, that there is no substantial Happiness in this World; that Riches, Honours, worldly Glory, or Pomp, can afford us none, but rather that we are traveled with Uneasiness and Inquietude amidst our largest Enjoyments; that we can never be satisfied with any thing below that Eternal and Immortal Good which hath left some Impressions of itself upon every Creature; and that we must strongly endeavour to settle ourselves in the happy Condition of a Conjunction with the Eternal Being, and not stop in the Pursuit of it by representing to ourselves that humane Life is full of Miseries, that innocent Virtue is afflicted and distressed, and that Wickedness is triumphant, and Impiety prosperous. We are advised by him also to consider that God, who ever hath ruled, and will rule the World, will at last do Justice to those who have lived according to his Precepts, and have been just and righteous, however they may have been persecuted; and that he will show in his own time that he maketh great Difference betwixt them, and those who have offended him by transgressing his Laws.  
It is here also shown, that Death itself, which seems so terrible to our Natures, doth only, after the Fatigues and Travels of the Day of Life, lay us, as it were, at Night to sleep, that so our high and noble Faculties may be awakened to the Participation and Enjoyment of a more serene, free and happy Estate, which the Misfortunes of this World cannot affect, and which shall never have an End.  
This I take to be the Sum of what is contained in this Book of Boetius.  
I am now to advertise the Reader, that in my Translation I have followed the Editions of Vallinus, and that of the Sieur Cally for the Use of the Dolphin, because I take them to be the most correct of any of those which I have seen. In the Annotations also I have mostly followed them, because I have found them very learned and exact; but when I have made use of them, I have very much contracted them. I foresee too, that it may be objected, that in them I seem to affect borrowed Learning, (which indeed I do not, nor ever did) and that those Stories out of the Poets and Mythologists, which swell the Volume, might have been omitted, because they are commonly known. To this I answer, that I did not make this Translation for the Learned, and that by Consequence I could not intent to inform them, by my Notes and Illustrations, of any thing which they did not know before; but that I did think they might be instructive to the English Reader, and might make the Sense of the Book more plain and pleasant to him, for whose Use alone both the one and the other were designed.  
I know that Fault will also be found with the Liberty which I have taken in rendering of the Verse, and with my own Additions which are in some Places made. To this I must return, that I have endeavoured, as well in translating the Prose as Verse, not to omit any part of the Author's Sense; and, to the best of my Understanding, I am sure I have not: but, I think, since those Translations are allowed by all Men to be flat and insipid, where the Words of the Author are too closely followed, it must then be necessary that something should be added or altered by the Translator to heighten them, and to give them a more grateful Taste, which is all I have pretended to do: But I must leave it to others to judge how well or how ill I have performed this.  
I have also rendered some Metres into blank Verse, which may seem to some Readers to be an Effect of Laziness: But let the Censurers consult the Original, and they will find that wherever I have done it, the Subject and the Nature of the Metre is such, that the Author's Sense could not be clearly expressed in the more confined way of Rhythm.   

THE LIFE OF BOETIUS.  
ANICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOETIUS was descended from an ancient and noble Family, many of his Ancestors having been Senators and Consuls, and was born at Rome in that time when Augustulus, the last of the Roman Emperors, (having for Fear resigned the Empire) was banished, and Odoacer King of the Herulians began to reign in Italy, about the Year of Christ CDLXXV, or a little after. His Grandfather seems to have been BOETIUS, a Consular Man, who was Captain of the Guards to Valentinian, and accompanied Aetius, that valiant Commander, in all his Expeditions, equally sharing with him his Labours and Victories; and suffered for his sake when he was killed by the Hand of the Emperor, who envied his Fame, and feared his Valour; with whom the Life, Safety, and Majesty of the Western Empire expired. His Father was ANICIUS MANLIUS FLAVIUS BOETIUS, Son of BOETIUS, mentioned above, who was Consul in the Year CDLXXXVII. He dying when his Son was an Infant, his Friends and Relations took care of his Education, and sent him to Athens, where he not only attained to a perfect understanding of the Greek Tongue, but also of Philosophy, and of all other kinds of Sciences. Nor did he spend many Years in those Studies, but with a wonderful Quickness he perfected himself in the Knowledge of all Arts and Disciplines: Therefore returning young to Rome, he soon became the Admiration of all there, and in short time was advanced to the chief Dignities of his Country. First he was admitted into the Rank of Senators: Next he obtained the Consulate: and last of all, was made Master of the Offices. He had two Wives, the one named Helps; the other Rusticiana: The first was a Sicilian by Birth; her Father's Name was Festus, at that time Chief of the Senate. Her Virtues, and the Endowments of her Mind, far exceeded her Beauty and Fortune: She excelled in Poetry, and writ according to the most exact Rules of it, accompanying her Husband as a sweet and inspiring Genius, whilst he composed some of his immortal Works. He desired much to have had Issue by her, and performed the last Offices to her in the following Verses, which express with Passion his Conjugal Affection.  
HELPS dicta fui, Siculae Regionis Alumna,  
Quam procul à patria, Conjugis egit amor.  
Quo sine, moesta dies, nox anxia, flebilis hora,  
Nec solum Caro, sed Spiritus unus erat.  
Lux mea non clausa est, tali remanente marito,  
Majorique animae, parte superstes ero.  
Porticibus sacris, tam nunc peregrina quiesco,  
Judicis aeterni testificata Thronum.  
Ne qua manus Bustum violet, nisi fortè jugalis,  
Haec iterum cupiat jungere membra suis.  
 Thalami Cumulíque comes, nec morte revellar,  
Et socios vitae nectat uterque Cinis.  
In English thus; 
Led by the Charms of my kind Lord I came  
To Rome, Sicilian HELPS was my Name.  
My Days, Nights, Hours, he did with Pleasure crown,  
One were our Bodies, and our Souls were one.  
Though forced from hence, I do my Fate survive,  
Whilst still my nobler Part in him doth live.  
A Stranger in this sacred Porch I lie,  
And of th' Eternal Judge I testify.  
O let no Hand invade my Tomb, unless  
My Lord would mingle this my Dust with his:  
As once one Bed, then should we have one Grave,  
And I in both should him my much-loved Partner have.   
His other Wife was RUSTICIANA, Daughter to Quintus Aurelius Memius Symmachus, who was also Chief of the Senate, and Consul in the Year CDXXCV. By her he had many Children, two of which were Consuls, viz. QVINTUS ANICIUS SYMMACHUS, and ANICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOETIUS, in the Year DXXII this bearing the Name of his Father, the other of his Grandfather. Boetius well considering that Symmachus, his Father-in-law, being without Heirs-male, he should do a grateful thing to him if he gave his Name to his eldest Son by his Daughter. 'Tis likely that his Wealth was not small, because (besides that he owns in his Writings, that he lived in great Plenty and Splendour, and that he had an Abundance and Affluence of all worldly things) his Father supported the honourable Office of the Consulate; and his Grandfather, in the most difficult times of the Empire, commanded the Praetorian Bands. Nor was he only considerable by his Patrimony, for he had a great Accession to his Fortune by his Wife RUSTICIANA, to whom (and her Sons) the whole Estate of Symmachus did descend, since Galla, the other Daughter of Symmachus, upon the Death of her Husband, who died young, soon after the time of his Consulship was expired, vowed perpetual Chastity, and associated her self to the Vestals. To these Ornaments of Birth and Fortune Nature added also the considerable Faculties of Speaking and Writing; in which he so excelled, that himself acknowledges the first; and that the second was not wanting to him, will appear to any one who examines what he has written upon the several Subjects of Mathematics, Logic and Divinity: But this Divine Work of the Consolation of Philosophy doth far exceed the rest, for it abounds in various and difficult Arguments, and yields many choice Sentences and Rules of Life. Upon every Subject which he attempts he does so acquit himself, that none can be said to have taught more accurately, to have proved more irrefragably, or to have illustrated with more Perspicuity. To be short, he had so much Strength of Soul and Thought, and he showed so much Judgement in all his Managements, that even a most knowing Prince feared his Parts; and his Virtues and Integrity became his Crime, and wrought his Ruin. These were the Causes of his Banishment and Death: With these he studied to defend the good, and to curb and restrain ill Men, whenever it was in his Power: For whilst he sustained the Dignity of Master of the Offices (it being dangerous for him then to refuse to do so) he was made Precedent of the Council, to whom it belonged to oversee the Discipline of the Palace; and being Partaker of many of the Secrets of his Prince, was called often to advise him in his weightiest Affairs of State; and on all these Occasions he gave great Proofs of his Abilities and inviolable Equity. Amongst other of his generous and good Actions he defended Paulinus and Albinus, both Consulars, and the Senate itself, with the rich Province of Campania, against the Rapine and Violence of King Theodorick, Cyprian, Triguilla and Conigast; and also against the devouring Avarice of the Captain of the Guards, and other barbarous Spoilers. By these Proceed he became the Object of ill men's Hate, and incurred also the Displeasure of the King. But at this very time the Orthodox Emperor Justin, succeeding to Anastasius the Arian like a new Sun, enlightened the Oriental Regions with the Light of the true Faith: He confirmed that Peace which was desired by Theodorick King of the Goths, who then (Odoacer being slain) reigned in Italy. He having reconciled the Church of Constantinople, and also several others, to Hormisda Bishop of Rome, did immediately, by his Edict, banish all Arians, except the Goths, out of the Eastern Empire. Theodorick the Goth was troubled at this Action above measure; however he dissembled his Resentment, when behold three Informers, Men of desperate Fortune, and worse Lives, Gaudentius and Opilio, for several Offences being condemned to Banishment, and Basilius lately dismissed from being Steward of the King's Household, and also much indebted, apply to the King and accuse BOETIUS, for that he should hinder an Informer from bringing in his Witnesses to prove the whole Senate guilty of Treason; that he declared his Design, by several Letters, of restoring the Liberty of Italy; and that he had endeavoured to raise himself to Honours by magical Arts, and other unlawful Means. Theodorick jealous, as all are, of the Rights and Safety of his Crown, and fearing too that if the true Religion should be asserted, the Romans, being more addicted to Justin, would attempt some Great thing, and knowing that what was done in the East against the Arians, was done at the Request and in favour of Hormisda and the Senate of Rome, did give ready Faith to those Accusers, and immediately sent them to the Senate at Rome, from which Place this good Man was then far distant, where they were to present their Accusations, and to declare that the Lives and Safety of the Prince, and of all the Goths, were now in great Jeopardy: So, to the Grief of all good Men, the innocent Boetius, absent, unheard, and undefended, was condemned to Death, and to Proscription. But the King fearing that Justice and all the World would have but too good Cause of Offence against him if this Man should die, he changed his Sentence from Death to Banishment, that so he might be a Terror to other People; and he might still have him in his Power to make a Sacrifice of when his barbarous Soul should thirst after Blood. Therefore in the Year DXXII he was banished to Milan, or (as others say) he was confined to Ticinum, now Pavia; and all his Friends and Relations were forbid to accompany him on his way, or to follow him thither. Being in that Place he writ this choice Piece of the Consolation of Philosophy, that he might in it declare his Innocence to Posterity. Whilst this learned and good Man was employed upon this Work, and endeavouring to restore unto himself, by Philosophy, that Contentment and Quiet of which his Enemies, by their Insults and Injuries, had deprived him, Justin, in the Year DXXIU did promulgate an Edict against the Arians, by which he commanded (without excepting even the Goths) that all the Bishops of that Opinion should be deposed, and that their Churches should be consecrate according to the true Christian Form. The Goths being every where banished from all Parts, applied themselves to Theodorick. He first by Letters treats with Justin to restore them to their Liberties and Privileges: But when he found he made no Progress by that way, he designed an Embassy, and would make it more splendid and weighty by the Dignity of the Persons to be sent. John the Bishop of Rome, [which before that time was never done] and with him four of the Consular and Patrician Orders were sent upon this Occasion, and were commanded to address to the Emperor, to repeal that Edict, by which he had exterminated the Arians; which if he did not speedily do, then to declare that he would destroy Italy with Fire and Sword. The Ambassadors at their Arrival at Constantinople were received with all Respect and Joy, the Emperor, People and Clergy, going in Procession to meet them: John the Bishop going to the Church took the upper Hand, and sitting on the Throne on the right Hand, he celebrated the Day of the Resurrection of our Saviour after the Roman Use, and crowned Justin the Emperor. Theodorick did not well digest those great Honours done to his Ambassadors, but he did not express his Discontent till the Goths by their Letters complained to him, that John, in contempt of his Instructions, had consecrated the Arian Churches after the Roman way. Then believing himself not only contemned but injured, he began to rage and threaten, and to meditate Revenge. Nor did he long consider of the way: For on the tenth of the Kalends of November, in the Year of Christ DXXV. [and of his Banishment the fourth] by a Sword he opened the way of Immortality to Boetius. There want not some who say, that the King raging much when he heard the News from Constantinople, did not, as before, think this a feigned, but did now believe it as a real and true Conspiracy: And that he did admonish Boetius by the Tribune (to whom he had committed the Execution) that if he did desire or hope for Mercy at his Hands, he would disclose the whole Treason in all its Methods and Circumstances. But he (as he might well do) insisting upon his Innocence, received the fatal Blow. As to what relates to Symmachus, 'tis reported that he was sent for to Ravenna, and was there long detained in custody. John, with his Colleagues, about this time returned to Rome, when he found his Friend Boetius dead; Italy groaning under Oppression and Misery, and in vain struggling with her Chain; the King raging and furious, and Barbarity every where reigning: he stayed some little time at Rome, and at length was persuaded by Theodorick, who had put on a Vizard of Clemency and Mildness (though his Friends advised him to the contrary) to go to Ravenna, accompanied with others; whom, as soon as they were arrived, he delivered to several Keepers, and punished by several ways: John was put into a low Dungeon, where he was soon overcome by Hunger, and the Horror and Stench of the Place, and died the 6th of the Kalends of June: on the Day after the Death of this holy Man Symmachus was murdered, having undergone no legal Trial. Nor had the Rage of the Tyrant ended here; for he also designed upon the Lives of several others of the Patritians, if he had not been deterred from going further by the Fear which he was under of the Resentments of the Orthodox Emperor Justin. The Body of John was translated from Ravenna with much Pomp and Solemnity, and was received by the Clergy and People of Rome, on the Kalends of June, with all the Ceremonies due to Martyrdom. But the same Honours could not be done to the Bodies of Boetius and Symmachus, though they had received the same Crown and Palm, for the King commanded that they should be hidden in the most private Place that could be found. (Nor did Theodorick long survive this barbarous Action, the Revenge of Heaven always pursuing and overtaking Tyrants, when that of Men cannot; for in a few Days after the Head of a great Fish being served up to him at Supper, Symmachus, who was by his Command lately slain, seemed fiercely to threaten him out of it, with his Teeth and Eyes; with which terrible Sight being stricken and amazed, he trembling and cold, took his Bed and died, having first with Tears expressed and testified his Grief for the Death of Boetius and Symmachus, to Elpidius his Physician, then present. Amala Sunta, the Daughter of Theodorick, succeeding to her Father in the Kingdom, and knowing well what had happened to him at his Death, did soon rescind what her Father had done contrary to Right and Justice, and did restore the Estates and Goods of their Fathers to the Children of Boetius and Symmachus, which before had been confiscate to the Use of the King. The Religious of those Days did then decree the usual Honours to both of their Memories; and at this Day Boetius at Pavia on the 10th of the Kalends of November, and Symmachus at Ravenna on the 5th of the Kalends of June, are commemorated with much Devotion, because they died in the maintenance of the true Faith against the impious and heretical Doctrines of Arius. The Tomb of Boetius is to be seen at this Day in the Church of St. Augustine at Pavia, near to the Steps of the Chancel, with the following Epitaph: 
Maeonia & Latia lingua clarissimus, & qui  
Consul eram, hic perii, missus in exilium;  
Et quid mors rapuit? Probitas me vexit ad auras,  
Et nunc fama viget maxima, vivit opus.   
In English thus; 
Skilled in two Tongues, graced with the Consulate,  
A banished Man, I yielded here to Fate;  
Though Death prevailed, Virtue has raised me high,  
And now my Fame and Works do through the World fly:  When many Ages after, the Emperor Otho III did enclose his Bones then lying neglected amongst the Rubbish in a Marble Chest. Gerbertus, a great Philosopher, who was afterwards advanced to the Papal Chair, by the Name of Syvester II. did honour him with this following Elegy.  

Roma potens, dum jura suo declarat in orbe,  
Tu pater, & patriae lumen, Severine Boeti,  
Consulis officio, rerum disponis habenas,  
Infundis lumen studiis, & cedere nescis  
Graecorum ingeniis, sed mens divina coercet  
Imperium Mundi. Gladio bacchante Gothorum  
Libertas Romana perit: tu Consul & Exul,  
Insignes Titulos praeclara morte relinquis,  
Tunc decus Imperii, summas qui praegravat arts,  
Tertius Otho sua dignum te judicat aula:  
Aeternúmque tui statuit monimenta laboris,  
Et benè promeritum, meritis exornat honestis.   

Whilst Rome does all the World proudly awe,  
Thou her great Consul dost to her give Law;  
No nobler Light thy Country ever saw!  
The Learned take Lights from thee, thou art behind  
None of the Grecian Worthies, thou dost find  
Room for the World in thy capacious Mind.  
Now when the Roman Liberty is gone,  
Banished, thou layst thy Purple Honours down,  
And dying scornest the Gothick Tyrant's Frown.  
Imperial Otho, Patron of all Arts,  
To thee his Favours after Death imparts,  
And builds this Monument to thy Deserts.   
The End of the Life of BOETIUS.   

The Testimonies of several Writers concerning Boetius translated.  


* Ennodius, or (as some read) Evodius, was Bishop of Ticinum or Pavia, and an excellent Poet and Orator.  ENNODIUS Bishop of Pavia to Boetius, Epist. xiii. Lib. seven.  
THOU dost vouchsafe, most accomplished of Men, to extol my Virtues, when thy Industry, even in thy Youth, and without those Inconveniences, which attend those in Years, hath given thee all the Advantages of Age: All things in the Universe are subject to thy Diligence and Inquiry: To whom, even in the Beginning of thy Life, assiduous Reading is Diversion; and that which others with Sweat and Labour scarce attain to, thou conquer'st with Delight: That which appeared in the Hands of the Ancients but a single Light, in thine shines with double Lustre and Flame; for thou hast obtained the Mastery of that in thy Beginning, which our Ancestors scarce arrived at in the last part of their Lives.   

Out of the Greek of 
† Procopius of Caesarea in Palestine was a Rhetorician and a Sophister: Amongst his several Histories he wrote three Books of the Gothick Wars.  PROCOPIUS, Hist. Goth. Lib. 1.  
SYmmachus, and his Son-in-law Boetius, Patricians, and nobly descended, were, in their several times, Chiefs of the Senate and Consuls, and made deeper Researches into Philosophy and Morality, than any Persons of their time, and were very charitable as well to Strangers as to Romans, who were in want. Their Merits having raised them to Honours and Authorities, they became the Hate of those flagitious Persons who accused them falsely, and were the Occasion of their Deaths, and of the Confiscation of their Goods. But a few Days after, Theodorick supping, and having before him the Head of a great Fish, it appeared to him to be the Head of Symmachus, (who by his Command was killed) grinding his Teeth against him, and threatening him with sparkling Eyes, and an ireful Countenance. Whence, being affrighted with the Strangeness of the Prodigy, and his Joints and Members trembling above measure, he forthwith betook himself to his Bed; and there acquainting Elpidius his Physician with things, in order, as they had happened, he with Tears lamented his injurious Dealing with Symmachus and Boetius; which when he had done, being overwhelmed with Grief, and astonished with the late portentous Vision, he yielded to Death, giving this his first and last Example of injurious Acting against his Subjects, by condemning such worthy Men, contrary to his Custom, without any Cause assigned.   

The same PROCOPIUS, Lib. 3. ejusdem Hist.  
This was further added to complete the Misery of Rusticiana, the late Wife of Boetius, and Daughter of Symmachus; that she who had formerly relieved the Poor and Necessitous, should (going from House to House, and Door to Door) beg in a servile and Country Habit, the Necessaries of Life from her Enemies. The Goths indeed did conspire against the Life of Rusticiana; and objected to her, that she giving Money to the Commanders of the Roman Army, was the Cause of throwing down the Statues of Theodorick, in Revenge of the Death of Symmachus her Father, and Boetius her Husband. Totilas however suffered no Injury to be done to her, but preserved her and several others from all harm.   


* Paulus Diaconus, at the Command of Adelburga, Daughter of King Desiderias, made a large Appendix to the History of Eutropius.  PAULUS DIACONUS, Lib. 7. added to the History of Eutropius.  
WHilst John the Pope, Theodorus, Importunus, Agapitus, Consular Men, and another Agapitus a Patrician, were performing their Embassy to Justin, Theodorick, spurred on by his Rage, slew Symmachus the Patrician, who had been Consul, and Boetius the Elder, who had also been Consul, both good Christians, with the Sword.  
Out of MARIUS his Chronicle,  
Justin II. and Opilio, being Consuls; Indict. II. which was in the Year of Grace DXXIU  
In this Year Boetius the Patrician was killed within the Territories of Milan,  
Probus the younger and Philoxenus being Consuls, Indict. III. in the Year DXXV.  
In the Consulate of these Men Symmachus the Patrician was massacred at Ravenna.   


† Anastasius was the Restorer and Keeper of the Apostolic Library, and therefore styled Bibliothecarius.  ANASTATIUS Bibliothecar. in the Life of John I.  
AT the same time when John the Pope, with Theodorus, Importunus, and Agapitus, Exconsuls', and Agapitus the Patrician (who died at Thessalonica) were sent to Constantinople, the Heretical King Theodorick detained two renowned Exconsular Senators, Symmachus and Boetius, and slew them with the Sword.   


* Ado was Archbishop of Vienna, and writ a short Chronicle from the Beginning of the World to his own times.  ADO of Vienna, in his Chronicle.  
WHen John the Pope, in his Return came to Ravenna, Theodorick imprisoned him, and his Companions being displeased that Justin, the chief Defender of the Orthodox Faith, had received them so honourably; at which time he slew Symmachus and Boetius, both Consulars, upon Account of their Faith.   

AIMOINIUS de gest. Franc. Lib. 2. Cap. 1.  
SOME of those who were with John the Pope he burned, others he put to Death by several Ways and Tortures. Amongst whom Symmachus the Patrician, and Boetius his Son-in-law, after long Imprisonment, fell by the Sword. How well Boetius was seen in sacred and profane Letters, may, by his Writings on several Subjects, appear. These his Treatises of Arithmetic, and Logic, and Music, so grateful to the Romans, will testify. Furthermore, his Book of the Consubstantiality of the Trinity, doth sufficiently show how useful he might have been to the Church, if the Times could have born him.   


† Joannes Sarisburiensis, or Saresberiensis, was an Englishman, and Bishop of Chartres in France. Amongst other things he writ Policraticum, sive de Nugis Curialium & Vestigiis Philosophorum.  JOHANNES SARISBURIENSIS Episcop. Carnot. Policrat. Lib. 7. Cap. 15.  
IF you will not believe me, revolve diligently the Book of the Consolation of Philosophy, and the contrary will be plain to you. And although that Book does not plainly express the word Incarnate, yet amongst those who rely upon Reason, it is of no small Authority, whilst it yields fitting and specific Medicines to suppress the Grief of the most sick and exulcerated Minds. Nor the Jew, nor the Greek, under Pretext of Religion, declines the Use of Physic, whilst the Wise in the Faith, and the Unwise out of the Faith, are so profited by the artificial Compound of right Reason; but no Religion, where Reason hath any Sway, aught to abominate what it offers. He is profound, without Difficulty, in his Sentences; in his Words weightily clear: He is a vehement Orator, clear Demonstrator, an irrefragable Arguer, sometimes perswasively gliding to that which is to follow, sometimes as it were pushing the Reader on by necessity towards it.  
Those who are desirous to know more of our Author, and of the Testimonies of learned Men concerning him, from the time in which he flourished, downwards to this present Age, may consult further Ennodius Bishop of Pavia, mentioned before; 
Epist. L. 8. Ep. 1.  Cassiodorus, a learned and pious Man, Chancellor to King Theodorick, in two Epistles which he writ to Boetius by the Order of that King; as also Venerable Bede; Sigelbertus a Monk of Gemblores, in the Duchy of Brabant, of the Order of St. Benedict; Thomas Aquinas; Laurentius Valla; Sanctus Antonius Archbishop of Florence, of the Order of the Friars-Preachers; Jacobus Philippus Bergomensis, of the Order of the Eremites of St. Augustin; Hermolaus Barbarus, a noble Venetian, Archbishop and Patriarch of Aquileia; Angelus Politianus, an excellent Poet and Orator; Joannes Tritenhemius, Abbot of Spanheim; Julius Caesar Scaliger; Lilius Gregorius Gyraldus; 
Centur. 6. Cap. 10.  the Centuriators of Magdeburg; and Justus Lipsius; who have all made just Mention of Boetius in their Writings, and built honourable Monuments to his Fame.    

ANICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOETIUS, OF THE Consolation of Philosophy. BOOK the First.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Philosophy appears to Boetius, and drives away the Muses: who, as soon as she was known to him, comforts him by the Example of other wise Men who had been under the same Difficulties. He relates what he hath deserved from the Senate, and particular Senators, and from all Italy. Then he opens the whole Series of his Accusation, and the Causes of his Banishment, and shows the Innocence of his Life and Actions. Next, he complains of his many Injuries, and the Loss of his Reputation and Dignities. Last of all, Philosophy inquires what are the Troubles of his Mind, and the Causes of them, which are indeed the Subject Matter of the whole following Work.  

METRUM I.  
Carmina, qui quondam study florente peregi,  
Flebilis, heu! moestos cogor inire modos, etc.  
I Who before did lofty Verse indite,  
In mournful Numbers now my Griefs recite:  
Behold! the weeping Muse hath bound her brow  
With Cypress-Wreathes, and only dictates now  
Sad Elegy to me, whose teeming Eyes  
Keep time with here's. The Muse who does despise  
Danger, since I am gone, disdains to stay.  
And goes the kind Companion of my way.  
She whose gay Favours my brisk Youth did court,  
Now courts mine Age, and is its chief Support;  
Which does advance before I thought it nigh,  
And yet my Cares do make it onwards fly.  
Too soon these Temples hoary Hairs do show,  
Too soon my Summer's crowned with Alpine Snow:  
My Joints do tremble, and my Skin does sit  
Like a lose Garment, never made to fit.  
Happy are they, whom when their Years do bloom,  
Death doth not seize, but when they call doth come!  
That to the Wretched doth no Pity show;  
It shuts no Eyes which Tears do overflow.  
When my pleased Fates did smile, I once to Death  
Had almost yielded my unwilling Breath:  
But now when Fortune's gilded Favours cease,  
It doth arrest my kindly Hour of Ease.  
Why, O my Friends! did you me Happy call?  
He stands not firm, who thus like me can fall.   

PROSA I.  
Whilst in Silence I recounted these things, and with 
* Styli Officio.  my Pen did delineate my Griefs and Complaints, 
(a) A Woman.] Philosophy is here meant; and because she ought not to appear but from an Eminent Situation, and as if it were descending from Heaven, he places her over his Head; and by assigning to her a reverend Countenance, he would signify her Original, her Age, and her Dignity; and by her sparkling Eyes, the clear and distinct Knowledge which she hath of all things.  a Woman of a most reverend Countenance seemed to stand over my Head, with sparkling Eyes, which were of an extraordinary Force and Quickness; her Colour was lively, and her Strength seemed to be unexhausted, although she was so old, that she could by no means be thought one of our time. It was difficult to judge of her Stature; for sometimes she appeared to be of the common Height of Men, than she would seem to touch the Clouds with her Head; which again, when she raised higher, she pierced the very Heavens with it, and was not to be followed by the Eyes of those who looked after her. Her Garments were most artificially made of the finest Threads and most durable Matter; which (as she herself afterwards told me) she had woven with her own Hands: They also were overshadowed with such a Mist and Duskishness as usually covers old Images, arising from Antiquity and the Neglect of Time. On the extreme Part of these Vestments below, the Greek Letter [Π] 
(b) Philosophy is divided into Theoretical and Practical: The first of those Species is denoted by the Letter [Θ], and consists in the pure and mere Contemplation of Truth. The latter, which is signified by the Letter [Π], consists in the Practice and Exercise of Virtue. Theory is placed in the upper-part of the Garment; because, as Aristotle determines, Contemplative Philosophy is much more Noble than the Active. Steps and Degrees are placed there, by which we ascend to the one, and descend to the other; because there can be no Exercise of Virtue without a Contemplation of Truth, nor aught that to be without the Exercise of Virtue.  was to be read; and upon the highest Border the Letter [Θ] 
(c) Philosophy is divided into Theoretical and Practical: The first of those Species is denoted by the Letter [Θ], and consists in the pure and mere Contemplation of Truth. The latter, which is signified by the Letter [Π], consists in the Practice and Exercise of Virtue. Theory is placed in the upper-part of the Garment; because, as Aristotle determines, Contemplative Philosophy is much more Noble than the Active. Steps and Degrees are placed there, by which we ascend to the one, and descend to the other; because there can be no Exercise of Virtue without a Contemplation of Truth, nor aught that to be without the Exercise of Virtue.  was interwoven; and betwixt them certain Steps were wrought in the form of a Ladder, by which there was an Ascent from the lowest to the highest Letter. But this Garment was defaced and torn by the Hands of several 
(d) Violent Persons.] Those who by Precipitation or Prejudice wrest and abuse Philosophy, and do neither consider Truth, nor exercise Virtue.  violent Persons, who had taken away what Parts of it they could. In her right Hand she carried Books, and in her left she swayed a Sceptre. So soon as she saw the Patronesses of Poetry standing by my Bed, and dictating to me Words, in which I clothed my Griefs; with a concerned Countenance and inflamed Eyes, she immediately broke out into these Expressions: What unwise Person hath suffered these scenique Strumpets to have Access to this sick Man; who are so far from encountering his Distemper with specifique and natural Remedies, that they only nourish and increase it by those sweet Poisons which they infuse? These are they who, with the fruitless Thorns of the Passions, choke and destroy the hopeful Crops of productive Reason, and who only accustom the Minds of Men to bear and endure a Disease, but never free them from it. If (continued she, directing herself to the Muses) your Caresses had debauched and drawn aside, according to your Custom, any profane or unknowing Person, you should not have been blamed by me; nor could my Labours, by such an Attempt, have been eluded: but you have made an unhappy Proselyte of him whom I have said with my Breasts, and brought up in 
(e) Eleatick] Logical; and it is styled so, because Logic is said to have been invented by the great Philosopher Zeno, who was called Eleates, because he was born in Elea, a Region of Peloponnesus, lying betwixt Arcadia and the Ionian Sea, to the Westward; whose chief City is Elis, now Belvedere, seated on the Bankey Coasts of the River Peneus.  Eleatique and 
(f) Academic.] The Philosophy of Plato is called Academic, because Plato was the first who professed Philosophy in the Academy. The Academy was a Place adorned with Woods and small Groves without the Walls of Athens, but very near them; and was first called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, from Ecademus, a famous Man of that City; from whence Horace, Epist. lib. 2. Ep. 2. 
Scilicet ut possem curvo dignoscere rectum,  
Atque inter sylvas Ecademi quaerere verum.  Now that Boetius was very knowing in both these sorts of Studies, is very plain, because he translated the Books of Logic of Aristotle, and illustrated them with Comments: And it will easily appear to those who shall peruse this Work, that he thoroughly understood, and was perfectly addicted to the Opinions of Plato.  Academic Studies. Be gone, therefore, ye Sirens, whose Pleasures kill, whose Embraces destroy, and leave this unhappy Apostate to the Care and Skill of Me and my Muses. This charming Company being thus rebuked, with dejected and blushing Countenances left the Room. But I, whose Eyes were yet darkened with Tears, not knowing who this Imperious Woman should be, was much astonished; and fixing mine Eyes upon the Earth, I began silently to expect what she would further do. She then approaching to me, sat down on the lower part of my Bed, and seeing my Face overspread with Grief, and mine Eyes in that dejected Posture, complained of the unsettled State of my Mind, in these Verses.   

METRUM II.  
Heu, quam praecipiti mersa profundo  
Mens hebet, & propriâ luce relictâ,  
Tendit in externas ire tenebras;  
Terrenis quoties flatibus aucta,  
Crescit in immensum noxia cura! etc.  
WHen from all Parts the Winds do blow,  
And Earth-bred Cares increase and grow,  
How drowned the highborn Mind doth lie,  
How dull's each noble Faculty;  
And leaving its own proper Light,  
How soon it yields to dismal Night!  
When he was free, he did descry  
And know each Region of the Sky;  
He viewed the Glories of the Sun,  
The Brightness of the 
(g) I know not why he gives the Epithet of Gelida to the Moon, unless it be that she hath the Direction of the Night; which, because of the Absence of the Sun is colder than the Day.  Gelid Moon:  
He saw of every wand'ring Star  
The various Motions through each Sphere,  
They to his Numbers subject were.  
Why blustering Winds do Thetis brave,  
And raise the curle-headed Wave:  
He knew what Spirit or Intelligence  
This Globe doth move and influence;  
And why the Star which in the West  
Doth set, ariseth from the East:  
Why in the Spring soft Zephyrs blow,  
And cause the fragrant Flowers to grow:  
He why the generous Grape doth swell  
In plump Autumnus Cheeks, could tell:  
Into all Secrets he did look,  
And Nature was his mighty Book.  
But, O! how altered is his Mind!  
How grossly stupid now, and blind!  
His Neck a weighty Chain doth bear;  
No cheerful Smiles his Face doth wear;  
Nor lifts he up his Head to breathe the Air.   

PROSA II.  
But now, said she, Medicines are more requisite than Complaints. Then looking upon me steadfastly, and with much Attention; Art thou, continued she, that Person, who lately being nourished with my Milk, and brought up with my Food, didst arrive at the Perfection of a vigorous and manly Soul? Certainly I gave thee those Arms which would, if thou thyself hadst not thrown them away, have defended thee firmly against every Assault. Dost thou know me? From whence proceeds this unusual Silence? From Shame or Stupidity? I had rather it were from the former; but I am afraid thou art oppressed with the latter. But when she saw me not only silent, but almost speechless and dumb, she reached her Hand easily towards my Breast; And, than said she, there is no Danger, he labours under a Lethargy, which is the common Distemper of those who are troubled in mind. He hath forgot himself a little, but he would soon be better if he could recover the Remembrance of me; which, that he may do, I will wipe his Eyes, darkened a little with the Clouds of Mortality: and, as she said this, she dried the Tears from them with a part of her Garment, which she had contracted into a fold.   

METRUM III.  
Tunc me discussâ liquerunt nocte tenebrae,  
Luminibusque prior rediit vigour, etc.  
THen Night & Darkness, which had long possessed  
My captived Mind, did swiftly fly away;  
A sudden Light clothed my enlarged Breast,  
And struck mine Eyes with its once well-known Ray.  
So when a mighty Wind infests the Sky,  
And watery Clouds hang heavy on its brow,  
The Sun retires, the Stars concealed do lie,  
And Night her Mantle over Earth doth throw.  
If Boreas, thundering from the Fields of Thrace,  
Opens the Ivory Palaces of Light,  
Phoebus shines out with a more radiant Face,  
And darts new Beams upon our wondering Sight.   

PROSA III.  
Thus the Clouds of Sadness being dispersed, I began to breathe more freely; and set myself to recollect the Features of her who had done so much towards my Cure. Therefore when I had earnestly fixed mine Eyes upon her, I soon knew her to be my tender Nurse [Philosophy] in whose School I had been instructed, and at whose Feet, from my Youth, I had been brought up. And why, said I, thou Source and Patroness of all Virtue, dost thou descend from above into these solitary Regions of my Banishment? Shall I, returned she, O my loved Pupil! desert thee, and refuse to bear a part of that Burden under which I know thou now labourest, for my sake? 'Tis contrary to the Rules of Philosophy, to leave the Innocent unaccompanied in his Pilgrimage. Shall I fear an Accusation, and be astonished, as if some new thing had happened? Is this the first time, dost thou believe, that Philosophy hath been assaulted by impious and cruel Men? Have not I, amongst the Ancients, and even before the time of thy great Master, and my endeared Son 
(h) Plato was born at Athens, A. M. 3626. or near it, and excelled in all sorts of Learning, especially in Philosophy. His Wisdom and Knowledge were the Occasions of much Misfortune to him: for by the Baseness and Treachery of Dionysius the Sicilian Tyrant, to whose Faith he had commited himself, as Cicero relateth, he fell into great Snares and Dangers.  Plato, often contended with Folly, and supported myself against her rash Attacks? And even, whilst he lived, did not his Master 
(i) Socrates, for his Wisdom and Learning was condemned to Death. He was born A. M. 3600. and so flourished before the time of Plato, and was then esteemed to be the most wise and knowing of Men, because he refined Philosophy, and rectified it, not allowing things which were occult and involved in the Secrets of Nature, to fall under the Consideration of it, or to be any part of its Subject, but directed its Inquiries to the Qualities of Virtue and Vice, saying, That what was above us, did not concern us. He, by his Precepts and Examples, exhorted his Auditors to live well; and in his own way of living he observed an Equalness of Temper; so that he ever shown the same Countenance in Prosperity and Adversity, neither more pleasant nor more disturbed. He was accused for not having right Sentiments touching the Gods, but most unjustly: and the People were so much afflicted for his Death, that his Accusers were punished, some by Death, some by Banishment; and, by the Order of the Senate, a Statue of Brass was raised to his Memory.  Socrates triumph over Death, to which he was unjustly adjudged, I standing by him and assisting him? Of whose 
(k) Inheritance.] The Opinions and Doctrine of Socrates.  Inheritance, when the Rout of the Epicureans and Stoics, and several of the other Sects, snatched a part, as every one pleased; and I still opposing myself to them, and striving against them; they, with one consent, fell upon me, as if I had been a part of their Prey, and tore this Garment, which I had woven with my own Hands: then every one going away with that Rag which he had snatched, vainly believed that he had possessed himself of Philosophy, and her whole Treasure. Some of whom, because some Footsteps and light Traces of me did appear amongst them, the Folly of Men believing them to be my Familiars, by the Error of the Multitude, were destroyed. But if thou art not so well acquainted with the Banishment of 
(l) Anaxagoras lived before the time of Socrates, and consequently of Plato. He held that Matter was Infinite, but that the minute Particles of it were agreeing amongst themselves, and at first confused, but afterwards reduced into order by the Divine Mind. From hence he, or rather Plato, concluded that the Sun was not God, but a burning Lamp; and for this he was banished his Country, or rather willingly left it; because it is said, he left his Patrimonial Estate, that he might enjoy more freely the Pleasures of Philosophy. See Diogenes Laertius concerning him.  Anaxagoras, the Poison of 
(m) I have already given an Account of Socrates: The manner of his Death was, he drunk a Draught of Hemlock or Ellebore, the Juice of which, through extreme Cold, is Poison, which was the way of executing the Malefactors amongst the Athenians.  Socrates, and the Torments of 
(n) Zeno did philosophise before the time of Socrates, and endured many Torments for his Wisdom and Opinions; but what they were, or who were the Authors of them, do not appear to me.  Zeno, because they were not of thy Country; and of the length of Time which hath intervened since their Sufferings, yet the 
(o) Julius Canius, or Canus, was born in the same Century with Seneca, and was a most excellent Philosopher; and being condemned to Death, he endured it with an almost incredible Constancy of Mind. Seneca, l. de tranquil. c. 14.  Canii, the 
(p) Seneca the Philosopher was contemporary with St. Paul, and flourished in the first Age after our Saviour's Nativity. He was the Tutor of Nero; by whom, after he had heaped up immense Riches, he was condemned to die. He fainted away in a warm Bath, having had some of his Veins opened, through which his Blood did pass: and before he died, with great Constancy spoke these Words to his Friends; Neroni saevienti nihil aliud supererat, post matrem, fratremque interfectos, quàm ut educatoris, praeceptorisque necem adjiceret. Nothing remained for cruel Nero now to do, but to add the Barbarity of the Death of his Teacher and Master, to the unnatural Murder of his Mother and Brother.  Senecae, and the 
(q) Boreas Soranus, a great Philosopher, of the same Age with Seneca, who by his Justice and Industry gave so great Offence to Nero, that he also died by his Command. The Canii, Senecae, and Sorani, are mentioned here in the plural Number for Emphasis and mark of Distinction; as we say, your Alexanders, your Caesars, etc.  Sorani, all of famous Memory, and who flourished but few Ages since, may have reached thy Knowledge: the only Cause of whose fatal and violent Ends was, that they were educated under my Discipline, and had imbibed my Precepts, and so became most unlike to those impious Men who wrought their Destruction. Therefore wonder not if I be beaten with Storms whilst I sail in the Sea of this World, since I propose no greater thing to myself than to displease ill Men. And though the Numbers of them be great, yet 'tis to be contemned, since it hath no certain Guide, but is actuated by the unsteady Counsels of Phrenetick Error. If, perhaps, they should form a Body against me, and being stronger, assail me, I the Leader do straightways retreat with my Party into a Fortress, whilst they in the mean time are employed in Rapine and Spoil, and in robbing us of those trivial things which are useless to them, and not very necessary for us: whilst we, in the mean time, (secure in our Fastness from the Fear of their Assaults, which Folly and Ignorance can never win) laugh at them, who, with so much Labour and Hazard, pursue the meanest and most despicable Trifles.   

METRUM iv  Quisquis composito serenus aevo, etc. 
THat well-weighed Man, who in a settled State,  
Hath triumphed over his aspiring Fate;  
Who, unconcerned, Fortune in Smiles can view,  
And fearless can behold her clouded Brow:  
No raging Sea shall move, nor shall prevail  
Against his Head; though the proud Billows swell,  
Though black Vesuvio should with them conspire,  
Vomiting out Auxiliary Fire:  
Tho Heaven its fiercest Thunderbolts should wield,  
To which even Oaks, & Rocks, & Towers must yield▪  
Fear not, unhappy Man, th' Oppressor's Brow;  
His Power from thy mean Fears alone can grow.  
He who nor fears, nor hopes for any thing,  
Disarms the Tyrant, and himself's a King.  
But he who to himself is not a Law;  
If his unstable Breast these Passions awe,  
He yields his Arms, and now no more is free;  
He makes his Chains, and meets his Slavery.   

PROSA iv  
Dost thou perceive these things, said she, and do they sink into thy Mind? 
* Esne 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉?  Art thou altogether unqualified and unfit to receive these Precepts? Why dost thou weep? Why do thy Tears overflow? 
† 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Speak, conceal not thy Thoughts. And if thou dost expect Help from the Physician, truly discover thy Distemper. Then I, in some measure recovering myself, spoke thus to her: Need my Sorrows then be repeated; and do not the Severities acted by Fortune against me, appear enough of themselves, without these Admonitions? Doth not the very Face and Horror of 
(r) This Place.] His sordid and obscure Prison.  this Place move thee? Is this the Library which thou didst choose for thy particular Apartment in my House? In which, so often sitting with me, thou didst skilfully read upon all Divine and Humane Learning? Was this my Habit? Was this my Look, when with thee I penetrated into the Secrets of Nature? when thou 
* Cum mihi siderum vias radio describeres.  traced'st out to me the several Motions of the Stars? when thou didst show me how to form my Life and Manners by Divine Rule and Order? And are these at last the Rewards of my Obedience to thee? Certainly thou didst deliver this Sentence as an Eternal Sanction by the Mouth of 
(s) Plato.] Plato saith, L. quinto de Repub. that those Commonwealths are most happy, whose Governors are Lovers and Practisers of Wisdom and its Precepts; or who, by their Endeavours and Studies, aim at being so. The same Plato, Dial. 6. de Repub. advises wise and good Men to take upon them the Government of their Country, lest if it should be committed to impious and wicked Men, good Men might by them be oppressed and ruined.  Plato, viz. That those Commonwealths are most happy, who are governed by Philosophers, or by those who study to be so. By the same Person also thou didst advise wise and discreet Men to take upon them the Government of their Country, lest they refusing it, impious and unworthy Subjects should exert themselves, and oppress the good and honest Citizens. Therefore I following this great Authority, have desired to reduce to practice, in the Management of public Business, what I learned from thee in our grateful Retirement. And thou and that God who infuseth thee into the Minds of wise Men, may witness for me, that I had no other end in aspiring to the Magistracy, than that one, of doing good to all, and protecting the Virtuous and Just. Hence was I looked upon by evil Men as their common Enemy. Hence sprung Dissension and Discord with them; but still the Clearness of my Conscience made me despise the Anger of the most powerful, when I acted in the Defence of Justice and Right. How oft have I opposed 
(t) Conigast.] Conigastus; or, as Cassiodorus writes him, Cunigastus, was one who had great Authority with King Theodorick, which appears from what Cassiodorus, L. 8. Ep. 28. relates, that King Athalavick writing to him, gives him the Title of Illustris. This Person abusing the Authority which he had with his Master, attempted upon the Fortunes of those whom he thought not able to defend themselves. He being Master of the Offices, Boetius did frequently oppose him; because it was the Business of that Magistrate to judge the Prefects of the Provinces, and to receive the Complaints of the Provincial Subjects, and to report them to the Prince.  Conigast, who taking Advantage of their Inabilities, would have oppressed and ground the Faces of the Poor? How oft have I withstood 
(u) Triguilla.] Triguilla was Steward of the Royal Household, who was equal to Conigast in Wickedness, but superior to him in Power.  Triguilla, the Steward of the King's Household, and hindered him from bringing to effect the many Injuries and Wrongs which he had hopefully projected and begun? How oft have I protected, with the Peril of my Authority, those unhappy People, whom the lawless Avarice of the 
(w) Barbarians.] The Goths.  Barbarians did vex with many Calumnies? No Man ever drew me aside from the Paths of Right to those of Injustice: I grieved no less than the poor Sufferers, when I saw the Fortunes of Provincial Subjects torn by the Rapine of private Officers, and them oppressed with public Taxes. When, in the Time of a severe Famine, the whole Province of 
(x) Campania] Named Felix, called now by the Inhabitants La terra di Lavoro, is a Region of Italy, and a Province of the Kingdom of Naples, famous for its Fruitfulness and Number of Cities; its Metropolis is Naples, the largest of the Italian Cities. Florus describes it thus; L. 1. C. 16. Omnium, inquit, non modò Italiâ, sed toto orbe terrarum, pulcherrima Campaniae plaga est. Nihil mollius Coelo: denique bis floribus vernat. Nihil uberius sole: ideo liberi Cererisque certamen dicitur. Nihil hospitalius mari: hîc illi nobiles portus, Cajeta, Misenus, & tepentes fontibus Baiae: Lucrinus & Avernus, quaedam Marie Otia. Hic amicti vitibus montes, Gaurus, Falernus, Massicus, & pulcherrimus omnium Vesuvius Aetnëi ignis imitator. Vrbes ad Mare, Formiae, Cumae, Puteoli, Neapolis, Herculcanum; Pompey, & ipsa caput urbium Capua, quondam inter tres maximas, Romam Carthaginemque numerata.  Campania had like to have been ruined by an Imposition upon the People, which passed under the Name of a 
(y) Coemption.] This Coemption was a Monopoly, by which the Subjects of the Provinces were obliged to bring their Provisions and Victuals, and generally all the Products of their Lands, into the King's Granaries and Storehouses, to sell them there at a low Price, and to buy them out again at a greater, such as the Public Officers should exact of them.  Coemption, I, the King being present at the Debate, contested with his 
* Certamen adversum praefectum Praetorii suscepi.  Captain of the Guards, on the Behalf of the Public: And at last I prevailed, To that that heavy Impost was not exacted. I forced 
(z) Paulinus.] Because he was of the Family of the Decii, was called Decius, and was Consul in the Year of our Redemption 498. therefore he is here called Consular.  Paulinus, a Consular Man, out of the very Jaws of those 
† Palatini canes.  greedy Officers of the Palace, whose Ambition and Hope had already devoured him and his Estate. When 
(a) Albinus.] He descended from the same Family of the Decii, and was Consul in the Year of Christ 493.  Albinus, who had been Consul also, was to have been cut off by a false Accusation, I placed myself betwixt him and 
(b) Cyprian.] Was the Brother of Opilio the Informer against Boetius, of whom mention shall be hereafter.  Cyprian his Accuser, and opposed myself to the Violence of his utmost Hate and Malice. Don't you think that I have got myself Enemies more than enough? I ought certainly, amongst the rest of Mankind, to be more assured and safe, who for the Love of Justice, have forfeited all my Hopes at the Court, and gained nothing but the Envy and Hate of those who are powerful there. But, behold upon the Accusation of what Men I now suffer! 
(c) Basilius.] This Man is sometimes praised, and sometimes found fault with by Cassiodorus. He is commended, Ep. l. 2. Variar. & Epist. 10. in which Agapita his Wife is mentioned, and said to be, spectabilis foemina. And also, Ep. 11. in which we read what followeth: Basilius, vir spectabilis, datis precibus intimavit, Agapitam conjugem suam de propriis penatibus à quibusdam vitio sollicitationis, abductam. Et certè in his versata rebus firmum docetur perdidisse consilium. Quid enim facere potuit probum, quae nullis culpis extantibus reliquit maritum. He is discommended, Variar. l. 4. and Epist. 22. where Theodorick himself saith, Basilium & Praetextatum artis sinistrae jamdiu contagione pollutos. And Ep. 23. where the same Prince writes, Praefectum urbis declarasse Basilium atque Praetextatum magicis artibus imbutos esse. If this Basilius was the same Man who was here named, he was perhaps dismissed from the King's Service for being versed in the Magical Arts: And from thence he might be urged by his Necessities to accuse Boetius falsely.  Basilius is one of them, who being lately, for his Offences, dismissed from the King's Service, and oppressed with Debt, is forced, by his Necessities, to become my Accuser. The Credit of the other two, 
(d) Opilio.] There was Opilio the Father, and Opilio the Son: The former, as Simondus saith, was Almoner to Odoacer; which Theodorick, in Cassiodorus, seemeth to intimate, Variar. L. quinto, Ep. 41. The latter, the Brother of Cyprian, was, as his Father and Brother before him, advanced to the Dignity of Almoner, but it was after the Death of Boetius, viz. in the Reign of Athalarick, anno Christi 528. From hence it is that Athalarick Cassiodor, Variar. L. 8. Epist. 16. inscribed Opilioni Comiti sacrarum, thus speaks, Securè tibi credimus, quod toties tuo generi commissum fuisse gaudemus. Paternis fascibus praefuit, sed & frater eâdem resplenduit claritate: which might not hinder but that Opilio the Son might be condemned to Banishment by Theodorick, together with Gaudentius, for his many Crimes and Frauds.  Opilio and 
(e) Gaudentius.] Gaudentius seems to be only known by his Accusation of Boetius; and one of whom I can give no other Account.  Gaudentius, is so infamous, that lately, for their many Crimes and Cheats, they were condemned to Banishment by the 
(f) By the King.] Theodorick King of Italy; who, after he had overcome and killed Odoacer, obtained that Crown, anno Christi 409.  King: and being unwilling to obey the Sentence, presently took 
(g) Sanctuary.] As there were some Temples amongst the Heathens, so all Churches of the Christians were always esteemed Asyla, or Sanctuaries. That some amongst the Heathens were Asyla, appears from Virgil. l. 2. Aenëid. v. 16. shows it: 
Et jam porticibus vacuis, Junonis asylo,  
Custodes lecti Phoenix & durus Ulysses  
Praedam asservabant.  Also Aenëid. 8. v. 342. 
Hinc lucum ingentem, quem Romulus acer asylum  
Rettulit, & gelidâ monstrat sub rupe lupercal.  And that all Christian Temples were Sanctuaries, is plain ex Ced. Theod. l. 9 tit. 47. the his qui ad Ecclesias confugiunt.  Sanctuary; of which when he had notice, he gave Command, that if they did not leave the City of 
(h) Ravenna.] A City of Italy, upon the Coast of the Adriatic Sea. King Theodorick made this his Royal Seat, after the Defeat of Odoacer and his Successors. The Kings of the Goths did, after him, inhabit it.  Ravenna by such a Day, they should, with all Disgrace, be driven out of it, with Marks branded on their Foreheads. Now judge if there can be any Addition to this my severe Usage; for upon that very Day on which this Execution was ordered to be done upon them, the Accusation was received against me, from the Mouths of these villainous Informers. What is then to be done? Have my many irksome Labours and Inquiries after Wisdom deserved this? or because my Condemnation was before determined, shall it qualify these Men to be my Accusers? Is not Fortune ashamed; if not of the Accusation of injured Innocence, at least of the Baseness and Infamy of its Accusers? But perhaps you may ask, what Crime is objected to me? I am accused for designing to preserve the Senate. Would you know the Manner and Circumstances of my Treason? Why, 'tis urged, that I hindered an Informer from carrying Proofs to the King, which should have declared the whole Senate to have been guilty of Treason? And now, O my Mistress! what think you? shall I deny the Crime that I may not be a Reproach to thee? No, it was always my Desire to preserve that August Body in its Splendour, and in its just Rights, and it shall be so to the last Moment of my Life. Shall I confess it? Then the pretended Endeavour of putting a stop to the Accusers will cease. Shall I own it a Crime to wish the Safety of that Assembly? Indeed its unjust Decrees against me would make it look to be so. But Folly, which always flatters itself, cannot change the Merit of things: Nor do I think it lawful, according to the Judgement of Socrates, either to hid the Truth, or own a Falsity. But however that Matter may be, I leave it to be weighed by you, and the Judgement of the Wise, having both by my Tongue and Pen declared the whole Truth and Series of my Misfortune, and transmitted it to indifferent and unprejudiced Posterity. To what purpose should I speak of those forged Letters, in which I am accused, to hope for the Restauration of the Roman Liberty? I could easily enough have detected the Falseness of that Contrivance, even by the Confessions of my Accusers, (which is of greatest Weight in all such Affairs) if I might have been allowed to have made use of them. But what Liberty now can we ever hope to have? Would to Heaven we might expect any! then I had answered them in the Words of Canius; who, when he was accused by C. Caesar, Son to Germanicus, of being privy to a Conspiracy against his Life, told him, 
* Si ego, inquit, scîssem, tu nescîsses.  If I had known of such a Design, thou hadst never known it. In which thing, Sorrow and my Misfortunes have not so dulled my Senses, that I should complain of the Contrivances of wicked Men against the Virtuous. But I wonder that according to their Hopes they should have effected them; for the Will to do Ill proceeds from the Defects of humane Nature: But it is prodigious, that every Contrivance of ill Men should prevail against the Innocent, even when the Eye of Providence beholds it. Whence it was that one of thy Disciples properly enough asked, If there be a God, whence then proceeds Evil? If there be none, whence Good? Be it so, that it is natural and fit enough that ill Men, who thirst after the Blood of the Good, and of the whole Senate, should also promote my Destruction, who have always defended born against their Attempts. But have I deserved this Return from the Hands of the Senate? etc. Thou mayst remember, I imagine, because always when I did or said any thing, thou wert present, and didst direct me. Thou mayst remember, I say, when at 
(i) Verona.] A City of the Venetian Territory, built by the Gauls under the Command of Brennus, first called Brenona, afterwards Verona.  Verona, the King, greedy and desirous of our common Ruin, endeavoured to have thrown that Treason, for which Albinus was accused, on the whole Body of the Senate; how I then, contemning any Hazard which I might run, did vindicate and defend that Order. Thou know'st this to be Truth, and that I never was accustomed to value or praise myself or my Actions: for whosoever seeks a Name, by boasting of what he hath done, will lessen, in a great measure, the Pleasures of a self-approving Conscience. But now see the Event and Success of my Innocence, for instead of receiving the Reward of true and steady Virtue, I undergo the Punishment of Villainy and Impiety! What Judges were there ever, who even upon the manifest Proofs of a Crime, did so unanimously agree in Cruelty, that neither the Considerations of humane Nature, which necessarily errs, nor of the Change of Fortune, which is so uncertain to all, should incline some of them to Pity and Compassion? If I had been accused of designing to burn the Temples, or massacre the Priests, and so destroy all good Men, yet I should have been allowed to have been present, and upon my Confession or Conviction by the Witnesses, should have received my Sentence. But now, for my Afffections and Services to the Senate, I am unheard, undefended, at the Distance of 
(k) 500 Miles.] Ticinum or Pavia was so far distant from the Place where the Sentence of Boetius was pronounced.  500 Miles condemned to Death, and 
(l) Proscription.] Proscription was of two kinds: One was Proscription of Goods, when they were exposed to Sale by Writings affixed upon the public Places of the City or Country where the Criminal dwelled. The other was a Proscription of the Person, by which it was signified that the Offender was banished by the Magistrates, and that his Abode in the City or Country was not safe.  Proscription. O my Judges! may none of you be ever convicted of the like Crime; the Falseness of which even mine Accusers themselves know, and that they are forced to throw another pretended Offence into the Scale; which is, that out of my Ambition and Desire of Dignity I have polluted my Conscienee with the horrid Sin of 
(m) Sacrilege.] This was another Crime objected to Boetius; but in what the Sacrilege did consist, which was laid to his charge, doth not so well appear to me. Monsieur de la bouchery, the French Interpreter of our Author, thinks it consisted in his having, by deceitful Arts, gained Suffrages for the advancing himself to the Magistracy, which the Latins call, Crimen ambitûs a circumëundo & supplicando; and the Greeks 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: which Stephanus, in thesaur. gr. linguae verbo 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, interprets thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, sive 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, popularitas hujusmodi. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ita differre videntur, quod prior concionibus multitudini lenocinari & obrepere solet, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 verò potius muneribus gladiatoriis & spectaculis. Vide Sis. Bud. p. 811. Both these were Crimes punishable by the Laws of those Countries. Others, as Thomas Aquinas and Ascensius, think that it was the Crime of Sortilegium, or Sorcery, and practising Magical Aarts, of which he was accused: and that for sacrilegio we ought to read sortilegio, which seems to me to be true reading of it, for several Reasons which would be too long to insert here.  Sacrilege. But certainly thou, my Guide and Directress, who art planted and rooted in my Soul, hast so far driven out of my Heart the Desire of mortal and fading things, that thou dost know (I being ever under thy Inspection) there could be no Place there for that Impiety; for thou didst daily instil into my Ears and Mind that golden Saying of Pythagoras, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Fellow God. Nor was it convenient for me to seek Assistance from soul and unlawful Arts, whom already thou hadst formed into the Excellence and Likeness of God. Those of my 
† Innocens penetral domus.  Family, my Friends also with whom I conversed, and Symmachus, that virtuous and reverend Personage, to whom the Secrets of my Conversation could not be hidden, do all, with one Voice, clear me, even from the Suspicion of that Crime. But, O Misfortune! even thou art the greatest Cause of that Credit which is given to my Accusers; for 'tis believed that I have used unlawful Arts, because I have been bred up under thy Discipline, and imbibed thy Precepts. So that it is not enough that that Reverence which is due to thee, should not reflect, with Advantage, upon me thy Disciple, if thyself also do not suffer upon my account. But this also is an heavy Accession to my Misfortunes, that the Opinions of most People are not as they ought to be, grounded upon a due Consideration and the Merit of Things, but upon the Events of Fortune; and that that only should be judged to be undertaken with prudent Foresight, which is crowned with an unhappy Success. Hence it is that those who are unfortunate do lose, before any thing, the good Opinion of the World. It troubles me now to remember what are the various Rumours, the different and inconsistent Opinions of the People concerning me; some condemning, and some defending me and my Cause: Yet this I will say, that nothing can add more to the Afflictions of the Unhappy, who are unjustly persecuted, than when Men think they justly deserve the Miseries which they endure. And now I am, at last, rob of my Estate, spoiled of mine Honours, injured in my Reputation; and instead of those Rewards which I might justly have expected from my Country, I have been condemned to the greatest Punishment. But now behold a more afflicting Scene! Methinks I see the Treacherous, the Unfaithful, the Injurious, and other most Infamous Persons, all without Cause mine Enemies, overflowing with Joy and Delight at my Misfortunes, and contriving new Accusations against me: The Good are affrighted with the Horror of what I suffer, and ill Men are encouraged, by the Impunity of others, to design the greatest Wickednesses, and by Rewards to act them; whilst the Innocent are not only deprived of their Security, but also of the natural Privilege of defending themselves; therefore I may reasonably thus cry out:   

METRUM V  O stelliferi Conditor Orbis, etc. 

ALL-knowing Architect, whose powerful Hand  
Inimitably framed the starry Sky;  
Who fixed on thine Eternal Throne dost sit,  
And with a rapid Motion turn'st the Spheres;  
Who dost upon the Stars impose thy Laws,  
And makest even Planets wander by a Rule:  
So that the Moon in glorious Array  
Meeting her Brother, clad with Beams of Light,  
Involves in sable Weeds the lesser Stars:  
But when to him she nearer doth approach,  
Her Horns grow pale, and she is lost in Clouds.  
From his cold Bed thou Hesperus dost raise  
To usher in the Shades of coming Night;  
And then dost make him change his wont Course,  
To be the pale-faced Harbinger of Day;  
From which Employ he Lucifer is called.  
Thou, when the fiercest Blasts of Winter rage,  
Dost shorten Day when ripening Summer comes,  
Thou dost give Wings to the slow Hours of Night;  
Thou rul'st the chequered Seasons of the Year:  
So that the Leaves which Boreas blows off,  
When his Autumnal spoils he proudly boasts,  
The gentle Zephyrs kindly do restore,  
And 
(n) Syrius.] Or as some writ Scyrius, is called so à 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, exsicco, to dry up, and is a most bright Star placed in the Mouth of the Constellation called Canis major, the greater Dog; which when it ariseth, accompanieth the Rising Sun from the Month of July, at which time the ripened Corn seemeth to whither. Which Star, because it appeareth in the Mouth of the greater Dog, is named Canicula. 
Jam rapidos torrens sitientes Syrius Indos  
Ardebat Coelo, & medium Sol igneus orbem  
Hauserat, arebant herbae, & cava flumina siccis  
Faucibus ad limum radii tepesacta coquebant.  
Virgil. 4. Georgic. v. 425.  
— Tum steriles exurere Syrius agros:  
Arebant herbae, & victum seges aegra negabat.  
Virgil. Aeneid. l. 3. v. 14.   Syrius brood's upon the Fields of Corn,  
Which the industrious Swain before had sown  
Under 
(o) Arcturus.] Quasi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is a Star in the Sign of Boötes, near the Tail of the greater Bear; which Star doth accompany the Rising Sun from the Month of October, at which time the Earth gins to cherish or nourish the Seed committed to it. 
At si non fuerit tellus foecunda sub ipsum  
Arcturum, tenui sat erit suspendere fulco.  
Virgil. Georg. l. 1. v. 67. & v. 204.  
Praeterea tam sunt Arcturi Sydera nobis  
Haedorumque dies servandi, & lucidus anguis:  
Quàm, quibus in patriam ventosa per aequora vectis  
Pontus, & Ostriseri fauces tentantur Abydi.   Arcturus colder Influence.  
Nothing in Nature can Exemption plead  
From that Eternal Law, which long hath fixed  
And chained each Being to its proper Place.  
Why then dost thou all other things direct  
Towards the end by thee before designed,  
And only leav'st Man's Actions uncontrolled,  
In Paths uncertain leaving him to tread?  
Why should unstable Fortune's erring Power  
Such mighty Changes in the World work,  
Whilst Innocence has the Reward of Crimes,  
Whilst prosperous Vice unjustly is enthroned,  
And on the Neck of Innocence doth tread?  
Virtue obscure, neglected and contemned  
Doth lie, which yet in Darkness bright appears,  
And th' injured Innocent those Chains doth bear,  
In which the Criminal justly should be bound.  
No Perjury him nor Fraud can ever hurt,  
If with a lying Varnish coloured over;  
But when he's pleased to use his mighty Power,  
He can even Kings and Potentates subdue,  
Whom all but he do honour and revere.  
O thou who with fair Concord's lasting Bands  
The disagreeing Elements dost bind,  
Behold the Earth, which now so long hath groaned,  
Oppressed with Violence and Misery!  
Behold, poor Man, not the least noble Part  
Of this great Work, tossed on the rolling Waves  
Of giddy Chance, and almost left alone  
Without a Pilot or a Polar Star,  
By which to steer to his long-wished for Port!  
Assuage at length these raging Floods,  
Great Governor; and as thou dost the Heaven,  
So on a stable Bottom fix the Earth.    

PROSA V  
Whilst my continued Griefs forced me to breath out these Complaints; she, with a pleasant Look, and no way moved with my Expression of them, bespoke me thus: When I first saw thee, sad and weeping, I knew thee to be miserable and in Banishment; yet at what distance from thy home I did not know, till I gathered it by thine own Discourse: But indeed thou art not driven out of thy Country, but hast wandered thus far from it; yet if thou hadst rather be thought to have been violently removed, thou hast done thyself this Injury, for it was never in the Power of any other Person to have done it: For if thou dost call to mind of what Country thou art, a Country not governed by the Fury and Ecstasies of a giddy and passionate Multitude, as that of the Athenians was heretofore; but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; 
Iliad. θ.  where there is only one Lord, one King, the Almighty Governor of the Universe, who wishes the Increase and numerous Prosperity, and procures the Welfare of all his Subjects and Citizens, and loves not to lessen their number, by sending them into Banishment: to obey whose Laws, and to be governed by them, is the noblest Liberty and greatest Happiness. knowst thou not that most ancient Law of thy 
(p) Commonwealth.] Philosophy useth here the word Civitas in a double Sense, which may agree with Heaven and with Rome, which are both said to be the Countries of Boetius. The most ancient Laws of Rome condemned no body to Banishment, much less the Laws of Heaven, when any one hath fixed his Heart there.  Commonwealth, which does decree, that it shall not be lawful to banish any Man from it, who had rather fix his Adobe there than in any other Place? For whoever hath once attained to the Happiness of being settled within the Bounds of that Territory, can never be presumed to deserve the Punishment of Exile; but whoever once leaves off to desire to be an Inhabitant there, at the same time leaves off to deserve to be so. Therefore the Countenance of this Place, however dismal, does not move me so much as thine own Looks. I do not here so much look for thy 
(q) Library.] The Ancients used to adorn their Houses with Gold, Ivory and Glass, which made a great part of the Expense of those times, as noble Buildings, Banquets, and a great Attendance do of these; Men thinking that they draw a Respect, Admiration and Honour from others by them. 
Fit strepitus tectis, vocemque per ampla volutant  
Atria; dependent lychni laquearibus aureis  
Incensi; & noctem flammis funalia vincunt.  Virgil. 1. Aenid. v. 729. and Horat. lib. 2. Ode 18. distinguishing himself from the great Men of his time, saith, 
Non Ebur, neque dureum  
Meâ renidet in domo Lacunar.   Library, the Walls of which were so well inlaid with Ivory, and adorned with Glasses, as that noble Cabinet and curious Repository of thy Mind and Thoughts. But I did depose that there, which makes even thy Books valuable, these choice and observable Sentences, which are the Quintessence of my voluminous Writings. Thou hast indeed spoken much Truth upon the Subject of thy great Merits from the Public: but considering what, and how many they have been, all that thou hast said of them is but little. The Particulars which thou hast recounted of thy Integrity, and the Falseness of thine Accusation, are well known to all Men: And thou hast done well in being short in the Account of the Frauds and Villainies of thine Accusers, because it will sound better out of the Mouth of the People, who know all this. Thou hast also severely inveighed against the unjust Decree of the Senate. Thou hast been much concerned for the Injury done to me, and thou hast bewailed the Loss of the good Esteem which Men had of thee. Thy last Complaint was against Fortune, and that Rewards and Punishments were not equally distributed, according to the Merits of Men: And in the end, thy distempered Muse wishes that the same Peace which makes the Felicity of the calm Regions above, might also govern and reside upon Earth. But because thy Affections are yet tumultuous and disordered, and because the mutinous Passions of Grief, Anger and Sadness do variously and successively draw and distract thee: Thy Mind, I say, being in such a State, strong and vigorous Medicines are not proper for thee; therefore, for the present, we will use more mild ones: so that those Humours, which by frequent Disturbances flowed in upon thee, being now gathered to a Head, and come to a Consistence, may, by gentle Applications, be mollified, and be fit to bear the more powerful Workings of stronger Remedies, which in time may dissipate them.   

METRUM VI  
Cum Phoebi Radiis grave  
Cancri fidus inaestuat, etc.  
WHen Phoebus in his yearly way  
To 
(r) Cancer] Is one of the Twelve Signs of the Zodiac, and is placed in that part of the Heaven which the Sun, going towards the North, touches about the end of June, and maketh the longest Day of the Year; turning from thence Southward, from whence the Circle which Astronomers make to pass through this Sign, is called the Tropic of Cancer.  Cancer doth a Visit pay,  
Who to th' unwilling Earth commits the Seed,  
Shall have no Crop, but may on Acorns feed:  
When armed with Frosts and crowned with Snow,  
Swelled Boreas from the Hills doth blow:  
No one or to the Groves or Woods then goes  
To crop the purple Violet or Rose.  
If thou wouldst press the winy Grape  
Let Tendrels in the Spring escape:  
For the great Patron of Mirth and Wine,  
Doth for Autumnus Head his Chaplets twine.  
To every Work God doth assign  
A proper and a fitting time:  
Nor suffers any thing to pass it's bound,  
Which Nature in her Actings would confound.  
For he who leaving Order, strays,  
And wanders in untrodden Ways,  
Can never hope that glad Success should crown  
That Work which he with smiling Hopes begun.   

PROSA VI  Phil. 
First then wilt thou suffer me to try the Estate, and feel the Pulse of thy Mind, by a few Questions; that so I may better understand thy Malady, and prescribe the Methods of thy Cure?  Boet. 
Ask me what thou pleasest, and I will answer thee.  P. 
Thinkest thou that this World is managed by blind Chance and Fortune? or dost thou believe that Reason hath any share in the Government of it?  B. 
I do by no means believe or imagine, that things, so certain in their Methods, and so regular in their Motions, should be moved and informed by so unsteady a Cause: but I know that God, the Master-workman, doth preside over his Work; nor shall any Time or Accident ever move me from the Truth of this Opinion.  P. 
So 'tis indeed; and of this, a little before, thy Muse did sing when thou didst also deplore the Misfortune of Man, whom alone thou didst believe, not to be under the Care of Providence; though, that every other thing was governed by Reason, thou didst not doubt. But it is miraculous to me, that thou, who hast so just Notions of all things, shouldst be in so ill a State of Health; I will therefore search further, for I believe thou yet labourest under some notable Defect: But tell, me, because thou dost not at all doubt but that the World is governed by God, by what kind of Government are its Affairs managed?  B. 
I can not well comprehend thy Question, therefore I cannot readily answer it.  P. 
I was not then deceived when I thought there was something wanting, some Vacuity or Breach by which this whole Train of Perturbations found a way into thy Mind. But tell me, dost thou remember what is the chief End of all things, and whither the whole Mass and Body of Nature doth tend?  B. 
I have heard what it is, but my Griefs have dulled my Memory, and erased almost every thing out of it.  P. 
But how then dost thou know from whence all things have, their Being?  B. 
That I remember well, and told thee, it was from God.  P. 
And how then doth it come to pass, that thou knowing the Cause and Beginning of all things, shouldst be ignorant of their End? It hath ever been of the Nature of these Perturbations, to have a Power to unsettle men's Minds, and to interrupt the Regular Course of thinking; but they never yet could wholly alienate them from the genuine Sentiments of true Reason: But I pray thee answer me this, Dost thou remember that thou art a Man?  B. 
I am not so much distempered but I remember that.  P. 
Canst thou then tell me what Man is?  B. 
If thou askest me, if I know myself to be a rational and a mortal Creature, I answer, I do know and confess myself to be so.  P. 
And dost thou not know that thou art somewhat more than that?  B. 
No.  P. 
Now I know another, and the greatest Cause of thy Distemper; which is, that thou hast lost the Knowledge of thyself: So that I have plainly found the Source of thy Distemper, or rather the way of restoring thee to thy Health: For because thou art confounded with the Oblivion of thyself, thou complainest of thy Banishment, and of the Loss of thy Estate. And because thou dost not know what is the End of things, thou dost believe wicked and lawless Men to be powerful and happy. And because thou hast forgotten by what Methods the World is governed, thou dost imagine that the many Vicissitudes and Changes of worldly Affairs, come to pass of themselves, and are not directed by any Governor; and dost believe there are no Causes of so important Effects. These may certainly, not only be great Occasions of a Disease, but even of Death it self. But, Thanks be to the Author of Health, who hath not suffered thee to be wholly deserted by Reason; the true Opinion which thou hast of the Government of the World, which thou believest not subject to Humane, but to Divine Wisdom, makes me not doubt of thy Recovery: For by this small Spark, there is to me a great Assurance of vital Heat: But because the Time is not yet come for stronger Remedies, and because it is natural to us to embrace false Opinions; so soon as we have laid aside the true, from whence a Mist of Disturbances ariseth, which hinders us from a true perception of Objects, I will endeavour, by Lenitives and Fomentations, to dissipate it; so that that Darkness being removed, thou mayst easily perceive the Brightness and Glories of the true Light.   

METRUM VII.  
Nubibus atris  
Condita nullum  
Fundere possunt  
Sidera lumen, etc.  
WHen sable Clouds o'er spread  
The Star-bespangled Sky,  
Each little Flame doth hid its Head,  
And seem to die.  
When a brisk Gale at South  
Wrinkles the Ocean's Brow,  
And by its Force the Froth  
Brings from below;  
Though she before were clear  
And Crystalline her Face,  
Her Beauties then will disappear,  
And lose their Grace.  
The rapid Torrent which  
Takes from the Hills its Source,  
Some Rock or Shelf doth oft impeach,  
And stop its Course.  
And thou, if thou wouldst see  
Truth by the clearest Light,  
If thou in Paths secure and free  
Wouldst walk aright,  
Drive flattering Joys away,  
And banish servile Fear;  
Let vain Hope never with thee stay,  
Nor Grief appear.  
Clouds overspread that Mind,  
And it receives a Chain,  
Where these an open Entrance find,  
And where they reign.   
The End of the First Book.   

ANICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOETIUS, OF THE Consolation of Philosophy. BOOK the Second.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Philosophy urges several Reasons to Boetius, why he should not so much desire the Return of his former Fortunes. The Description of Fortune. Her Discourse to Boetius, that he is not unhappy, but yet blessed with much Felicity. The Description of humane Felicity; that it doth not consist in the Gifts of Fortune, nor in Riches, nor in Dignity and Power, nor in Glory and Fame; and even that sometimes adverse Fortune is profitable.  

PROSA I.  
HAving said this, she was for some time silent; and when she perceived that I disposed myself with a modest Silence and Attention to hear her, she thus bespoke me:  
If I can see at all into the Causes and Habits of thy Disease, thou art affected with the Loss of thy former Fortune, and languishest with the Desire of its Return: The Change of that, as thou imaginest, towards thee, hath perverted thy Faculties, and altered the whole State and Constitution of thy Mind. I understand the manifold Deceits of that 
(a) Prodigy.] Prodigium, by Cicero, is called that which foretelleth future Events, l. 2. de Nat. Dear. Since therefore Fortune is so inconstant, that when she is prosperous she seems to foretell Adversity, and when she is adverse to presage Prosperity, she may here be properly styled Prodigium.  Prodigy, and I know the bottom of that Familiarity she useth towards all them whom she designs to deceive, till she hath left them plunged in Sorrow, and overwhelmed with Misfortunes and Despair. And if impartially, and without Passion, thou wilt call her to remembrance, and consider well her Nature, Habits and Deserts, thou wilt soon be undeceived, and find, that even when she did most caress thee, thou didst never enjoy, nor that she having now left thee, thou dost lose any thing of Beauty or of Worth. But, I think, I need not labour much to recall these things into thy Memory; for thou wert wont, when she was present, and flattered thee most, to oppose thy manly Words to her Allurements, and to assault her with Arrows drawn from my Quiver; 
(b) Here the Words of Boetius are, De nostro adyto prolatis insectabare sententiis: The Sense of which Words I have, I think, fully enough rendered. Adytum was a Sacred Place in the Temple, into which it was lawful for none but the Priest to enter: Its Nature will appear from the Greek Etymology of the Word, which comes from ae ' called privativum, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ingredior. The Heathens also called the Place from whence the Oracles were given, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Aen. l. 2. 
Suspensi Eurypilum scitatum Oracula Phoebi  
Mittimus: isque adytis haec tristia dicta reportat.  Since therefore Philosophy is said to have her Temple and her Oracles, she will also have her Adytum, out of which she draweth her Sentences: Of which Sentences Boetius made use whilst he was prosperous, to the purpose mentioned above.  I mean with choice Sentences extracted from my Precepts and Labours. But every sudden Change works a great Alteration in the Minds of Men: Hence it is that thou also art departed from the wont Tranquillity and Peace of thine. But it is now time to give thee some Emollients and pleasant Lenitives, which may make way for more powerful Medicines. Approach then, Rhetoric, with all thy persuasive Charms, who then only dost keep the right Path, when thou dost not swerve from my Institutions and Doctrines; and with Rhetoric let Music also draw near another Servant of my Retinue, and warble out Numbers sometimes more light and airy, sometimes more weighty and consistent.  
What is it then, O Man, which hath plunged thee into this Abyss of Misery and Sorrow? Certainly thou hast seen something astonishing and new. Dost thou think that Fortune is changed against thee? Thou art deceived: This was always her Custom, and is her Nature: She hath rather, in this Misadventure of thine, preserved her Constancy in changing: Such she was when she deluded thee with her Blandishments and false Shows of Felicity. Thou hast had before a full View of the direct Face of this blind Divinity, and thou hast also now beheld her Reverse: She, who nicely conceals herself to others, is wholly displayed and open to thee. If thou approvest of her Manners and Customs, use them, and complain not: If thou dost abominate her Perfidy and Falseness, contemn and cast her off, whose Sports are so dangerous and hurtful: For that which occasions thy Melancholy, aught to have been a Cause of thy greatest Joy and Comfort: For she hath forsaken thee; of whom no Man can be secure but she will leave him also. Dost thou then esteem that to be Happiness which is ever passing, and will not stay? Is that present Fortune so dear to thee which is not permanent, and which, when it is gone, leaves Griefs and Discontents to succeed in its place? So that if a Man at his pleasure cannot retain her, and if when she goeth away she maketh him miserable, what is she, being so ready to take her Flight, but a sure Presage of future Calamity? But it is not enough to behold those Objects which are placed before our Eyes; for Wisdom hath a Prospect to the End and Event of things; and Fortune often changing from Adverse to Prosperous, and from Prosperous to Adverse, should make Men neither fear her Threats, nor desire her Favours. To be short, thou must with Patience and Equality of Soul, bear whatever is acted by her upon the Scene of this World, when thou hast once submitted thy Neck to her ponderous Yoke: For if thou dost pretend to prescribe a certain time of Adobe and Recess to her, whom thou hast freely, and of thine own Accord, chosen to be thy Sovereign and Mistress, art thou not injurious to her? and dost thou not, by Impatience, embitter thy Lot, too hard already, which thou canst not alter by thy most vigorous Efforts? If thou once hast spread thy Sails to the Winds, thou then canst not choose thy Port, but must go whither they will blow thee. When thou committest thy Seed to the Furrows, remember that sometimes the Years are fruitful, often barren. Hast thou given up thyself to the Governance of Fortune? thou canst then do no other thing than obey her Commands. Dost thou endeavour to arrest the forward Force of the rolling 
(c) Wheel.] The Ancients feigned Fortune not only to be blind, but placed her on a rolling Stone, because she seemed not only rashly, but with a blinded Force to administer ill things to good, and good things to ill Men; but also like a Wheel, or any spherical or globular Machine, to be rolled and turned by a natural Necessity: Therefore it is the greatest Folly to expect Constancy in her Actings.  Wheel? O thou most sottish of all Mortals! when Fortune once becomes stable and fixed, she, in the Hour she is so, leaves off to be Fortune.   

METRUM I.  
Haec, cum superbâ verterit vices dextrâ,  
Exaestuantis more fertur Euripi, etc.  

I.  
When with her Hand she shifts the Scene of Fate,  
She like 
(d) Euripus.] There are two sorts of Euripi; one sort is made by Art, the other is Natural: The first sort is of two kinds, as Water-pipes made that Water may mount in them; or Conduit-pipes, which turn round, used in Fountains, Gardens, or the like: The others are Inlets of Water, Cuts, or Channels, for the Commodity of Merchandise or Travel, as we see them frequently in several Countries. The natural Euripus is that which is now called by the Italians Il stretto de negro ponto; by the French Le Destroit de negropont; or oftener, Le Destroit del' Euripe. It is a Straight of the Aegean Sea, separating Boetia, a Region of Achaia, and the Island Eubaea, to which it is joined, to the City of Chalcis, by a wooden Bridge of 50 Paces only. Euripus is of the Extent of 60 Miles, and ebbs and flows seven times every Day, as Pliny and Mela testify.  Euripus often ebbs and flows;  
Raising the Captive from his humble State,  
She from his Throne the mighty Monarch throws.   

II.  
When the Unhappy weep, she slights their Tears,  
Nor will she hear the miserable Groan,  
But cruelly she doth seal up her Ears  
Against the Cries of those she hath undone.   

III.  
Thus doth she sport, and thus she boasts her Power,  
And treats her Followers with a pleasing Show;  
If in the running of a nimble Hour  
She makes the most exalted Hero low.    

PROSA II.  
BUT now I would discourse thee a little in the Style and Person of Fortune, and observe whether her Questions be reasonable or not. First; Why, O Man! dost thou by thy daily Complaints accuse me as guilty? What Injury have I done to thee? What Goods or Advantages have I withdrawn from thee? Implead me before what Judge thou pleasest, concerning the Possession of Wealth and Dignities, and if thou canst prove that ever any Man had a true and fixed Propriety in them, I will then readily grant, that those things were thine which thou dost so earnestly desire to be restored to thee. When Nature first brought thee out of the Womb into this World, I received thee naked, necessitous, and stripped of all things, and (which now is the Cause of thy Impatience against me) I indulgently educated thee, I heaped my Blessings upon thee, and encompassed thee with Glory and Splendour, and with an Affluence of all things which were in my Power; now when I have a mind to withdraw my Bounty, and to stop the Current of my Favours, be thankful for the Use of that which was not properly thine. Thou hast no just Cause of Complaint, for thou hast lost nothing which was thy own: Why then dost thou mourn? I have done thee no Wrong. Riches, Honours, and all other things of that kind, are subject to me, and in my Power; they are my Servants, and acknowledge me their Mistress; they come with me, and when I depart they follow. I dare boldly affirm, that if those things (the want of which thou dost now deplore) had been thine own, thou hadst not lost them: Shall I alone be forbid to exercise my own Power, and to use my own Right? Heaven takes the liberty to bless the World with fair and sunny Days, and again to veil them in dark and cloudy Nights. The Year graces the Face of the Earth with Fruits, and bindeth her Head with Chaplets of Flowers; and again she destroys these with Rains and Frosts. 'Tis lawful also for the Sea now to appear with a calm and smooth Brow, and again to rage's in Storms and Tempests: And shall the boundless Covetousness, and other depraved Affections of Men, oblige me to Constancy, which is so contrary to my Nature and Customs? This is my Power, and this my continual Sport and Exercise. I turn with a flying Motion the rolling Wheel, pleasing myself to exalt what was below, and to depress and humble what was on high: Ascend then, if thou pleasest, to the height, but upon this condition, that thou shalt not think I do thee an Injury if I make thee descend when my Sport or Humour require it. But art thou not acquainted with my Ways and Methods? Dost thou not know that 
(e) Croesus.] He was the last and the richest King of the Lydians, who having been once overcome by Cyrus' King of the Persians, and rebelling against him, he was condemned to be burnt: He being upon the Pile, cried out, O Solon, Solon, Solon: Cyrus ask him who Solon was, he answered, Solon was a very wise Man, who long since told me, that no one was happy in this Life, which I now find by experience. Then Cyrus considering the Changeableness of Fortune, ordered the Fire which was made for the Execution to be extinguished; but a Shower from Heaven fell down, and put it out before he could be obeyed.  Croesus' King of the Lydians, who, not long before, having been formidable to Cyrus, and being taken by him, was led to the Flames, to be a miserable Sacrifice to his Fury; was delivered by a Shower, which in that Moment was poured down from Heaven? Hast thou forgot how Paulus Aemilius, Consul of Rome, when he had taken 
(f) Perseus.] The Son of Philip, last King of the Macedonians, was overcome by Paulus Aemilius, the Roman Consul, at Samothrace, and with his Sons led in Triumph: When he was first taken, and brought before Paulus, he, pitying his Fortune, wept, and commanded him to sit down by him.  Perseus' King of the Macedonians, was grieved, and even wept for his Sorrows and Captivity? What doth the Tragic Buskin more exclaim against than Fortune, overturning with an undistinguishing Struck the Happiness and Peace of Kings and Commonwealths? Dist thou not learn, when thou wert young, that Jupiter, at the Entry of his Palace of Olympus, doth always reserve 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  two great 
(g) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.] This Doctrine of the Platonists Boetius learned when he was a young Student at Athens: For those Philosophers finding that the Souls of Men, which they believed were form long before they were joined to the Bodies, did some of them live miserable, and some of them more happy, feigned that two great Vessels did stand before the Gates of Jupiter's Palace; one of which was filled with Good, the other with Evil: of either of which, as the Souls which were to be infused into Bodies did drink, they were to have an happy or a miserable Lot upon Earth.  Tuns; out of the one of which he dispenses Good, out of the other Evil to the World? What if thou hast drunk too deep of the Vessel of Good? What if, for the present, I have only vailed myself, and am not wholly departed from thee? What if even this very Mutability, so much complained of, which is of my Essence, should give thee just Cause to hope for, and expect better things? Yet do not despair, be not dismayed; nor desire, whilst thou art placed within the common Circumstances of Humanity, to live under a Law, to be calculated for thy Meridian, and to be appropriated to thy Complexion and Inclinations.   

METRUM II.  

I.  
Si quantas rapidis flatibus incitus  
Pontus versat arenas, etc.   

If Plenty from her teeming Horn,  
As many Riches on the World, should pour,  
As there are Sands upon the briny Shore,  
Or Stars in Heaven before the purple Morn,  
In the triumphal Chariot of Day,  
All seen from far upon the Eastern Way;  
Yet would not miserable Man  
Cease to complain;  
But with his causeless Cries  
He would importune Heaven, and pierce the Skies.   

II.  
Although his Prayers reach the Almighty's Ear,  
Though with Success he crown his Vow,  
Though Wealth and Honour on him he confer,  
Yet Cares his Mind, and Clouds possess his Brow:  
He thinks his present Blessings poor,  
And wildly gapes, and ever calls for more.  
What Curb, or what commanding Rein  
Can Avarice within just Bounds retain?  
Since, when full Streams of Blessings on us flow,  
Our Thirst doth still increase, & our desires still grow.  
The Man who thinks he's poor, though rich he be,  
Doth truly labour under Poverty.    

PROSA III.  Phi. 
IF therefore Fortune should speak for herself to thee on this manner, I believe thou hast not any thing to answer; or if thou hast any thing by which thou canst defend thy Complaint, offer it, and thou shalt have free Liberty to speak.  Boet. 
These things which thou urgest are indeed specious, being enriched with all the Charms of Rhetoric and Music; yet their Sound then only affects and delights us, when they strike our Ears: But the Miserable have a much deeper Sense of their Misfortunes, which these Notes cannot remove; and when they leave off to entertain our Ears, their Sorrow, which is settled within, with greater Force attacks the Mind.  Phi. 
So it is indeed; for these are not Specificks for thy Disease which rebels against its Cure, but rather Nourishers of it: when time serves I shall administer those things which will pierce to its bottom. But, nevertheless, that thou mayst not number thyself amongst the Miserable, let me ask thee, hast thou forgot the measure of thy Happiness and Prosperity? I speak not of the Care which the Chief Men of the City took of thee, when thou wert left an Orphan, when thou wert graced with the Affinity of those great Personages, and wert taken into their Affections, before thou wert received into their Alliance, which is the most happy and estimable kind of Propinquity. Who did not account thee most happy in the Noble Alliance of thy 
(h) The Fathers-in-law of Boetius were Festus and Symmachus, of whom mention is made in the Life of Boetius.  Fathers-in-law; in the chaste and exemplary Virtues of thy 
(i) Though Boetius had two Wives, Elpis and Rusticiana, yet I suppose mention is made here only of Rusticiana, because she only was living at that time when this Book was composed.  Wife; and in the Noble Dispositions of thy 
(k) Boetius had four Sons; Patricius, Hypatius, Symmachus, and Boetius; that two of these were Consuls is certain, but which they were I do not find.  Sons? I pass by (for common things I will not mention) those Dignities conferred upon 
(l) Boetius being young, was admitted into the Order of the Patricii, and perhaps he had been honoured with the Consulate, which Dignity was rarely conferred upon any one before the 30th Year of his Age.  thee in thy Youth, which have often been denied to ancient Men; for I am impatient to come to that which was the Crown of thy Felicity: If the Fruits of humane Labours can have any Weight of Happiness, can the Memory of that Day, for any Evil which may since have befallen thee, ever pass out of thy Mind, in which thou sawest thy two Sons advanced to the Degree of Consuls, carried from thy House, accompanied by so great a Number of Senators, and with the Joys and Acclamations of the People? when thou sawest them in the Court placed in their 
(m) Curule Seats.] It was the Ivory Chair which was in the Chariot in which the Chief Magistrates of Rome did ride. From hence they were called Magistratus Curules, who only had the Right of setting up Images. Curulis, a curru dempto altero: nam Senatores qui Curulem magistratum, i. e. majorem bonorem gerebant, honoris gratiâ, in Curiam vehi soliti erant Curru, in quo sella erat Eburnea, supra quam considerent. Gell.  Curule Seats, and thyself in the Praises of the absent King Theodorick didst display the Treasures of thy Wit, and didst deserve the Crown of Eloquence? when in the 
(n) The Circus.] It was a Place of an Oval Figure, in which the Romans, by the Appointment of Tarqvinius Priscus, one of their first Kings, did exercise their Games: from whence those Games were called Circenses. Custom required afterwards, that every one who was created Consul, should in this Place make a great Expense in entertaining of the Roman People with the usual Games, otherwise they did not ingratiate themselves with them, nor did seem to support honourably their Character.  Circus thou sitting betwixt the Consuls, didst satisfy the Expectation of the Multitude, which stood about thee, with a triumphal Largess? Thou than didst flatter Fortune by thy Expressions, when she seemed to hug and caress thee as her Friend and Delight. Thou than receivedst from her such a Gift as was never before made to any private Man. Wilt thou then come to an account with her? This is the first time that she hath looked unkindly upon thee; and if thou wilt equally weigh the Number of thy Blessings and Afflictions, thou canst not but in Justice acknowledge that thou art yet happy: For if therefore thou dost esteem thyself unfortunate, because the things which heretofore seemed pleasing to thee are passed away, there is no reason for it, because even those things which do now afflict thee, do also pass. Art thou but just now entered a Stranger upon the Scene of this World? Dost thou but now appear in this Theatre? Believest thou that there can be any Constancy or Stability in humane Affairs, when thou seest that an Hour, or a quicker Minute, dissolves humane Nature, and separates the Soul from the Body? For although there is seldom Hope that the things of Fortune will continue with us, yet the last Day of a Man's Life seemeth to be the last also of that Prosperity which remains with us. Where then is the great Difference? What doth it import then, whether thou by Death leavest it, or it by Flight doth leave thee?   

METRUM III.  
Cum Polo Phoebus roseis quadrigis  
Lucem spargere coeperit, etc.  

I.  
When Phoebus from his roseal 
(o) Roscis quadrigis.] The Sun was feigned by the Poets to be drawn in a Coach by four Horses, viz. Pyrois, Aeous, Aethon, and Phlegon; by which Fire, Light, Heat and Flame, the four principal Effects of the Sun, as also the four chief Hours of the Day, may be signified. Ovid. l. 2. Metamorph. 
Interea volucres Pyrois, Aeous & Aethon  
Solis equi, quartusque Phlegon binnitibus auram  
Flammiferis implent, pedibusque repagula pulsant.   Coach  
Dispenses Light, and opens Day,  
The Stars grow pale at his Approach,  
And shun the Glories of his Ray,  
Hiding their Heads whilst he's upon his way.   

II.  
The Woods the Vernal Roses wear  
When the Life-breathing 
(p) Zephyrs.] Zephyrus is a soft and warm Wind blowing from the West, and by its Quality it makes the Earth fruitful; therefore it is called by the Greeks 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a bringer of Life: by the Latins it is termed, Favonius à fovendo, from cherishing or keeping warm, as if it were the Genital or Elemental Spirit of the World, as Pliny saith, l. 10. c. 25. 
Parturit almus ager, Zephyrique tepentibus auris  
Laxant arva sinus. Virg. l. 2. Georg.   Zephyrs blow;  
If to the 
(q) Austere] Is the Wind blowing from the South, and is of a moist and warm Nature. It is esteemed moist, because it gathers again those Humours which the Northwind had dispelled and scattered: Hence by Virgil it is called humidus; by Horace, Vdus; by Ovid, Aquaticus; by St. Augustine, Pincerna pluviarum; and by Boetius, Nebulosus. It is esteemed hot and warm, because it bloweth from the South; or because by its Moistness or its Heat, or by both, it is hurtful to living Creatures, and to Plants, but particularly to Flowers; from whence Virgil, l. 1. Arboribusque satis Notus, pecorique sinister. And Eclog. 2. 
Eheu quid volui misero mihi, floribus Austrum  
Perditus, & liquidis immisi fontibus apros.  This Wind is a particular Enemy to Roses: Hence Statius l. 3. Sylvarum: Pubentesque rosae primos moriuntur ad Austros. Therefore Auster, by our Author, is said, spirare insanum, to blow madly; and whilst it blows, decus abire spinis, that is, it makes the Rose to whither or die, which as it is the Queen of Flowers, and as it is produced from a Thorn, so it is the Glory of that Vegetable. Hence Antonius Hallaeus, a Norman Writer, very elegantly expresseth himself: 
— Ortûs tamen ipsa memento  
O Rosa pulchralis: te informis spina creavit.   South the Wind doth veer,  
No more those Beauties than they show,  
Which charmed our Eyes when the gay Flowers did grow.   

III.  
Sometimes I have the Ocean seen  
Clear, undisturbed and free,  
With Looks all radiant and serene:  
But if the Winds awakened be  
The Waves than swell and roll outrageously.   

iv  
If all things vary thus their Forms,  
And nothing certain doth appear,  
Wilt thou commit to the wild Storms  
Thy Vessel, and let Fortune steer?  
'Tis sure that nothing can be constant here!    

PROSA iv  Boet. 
ALL this which thou recountest, O thou Source and Nourisher of all Virtues, is most true; nor can I deny the quick and early Arrival of my Prosperity. But one thing, when I remember it, doth most sensibly afflict me; for nothing doth more add to a Man's Infelicity, than the remembrance that he was once happy.  Phil. 
That thou dost yet groan under the Torment of thy ill-grounded Opinion, is not to be imputed to the evil Estate of thy Affairs; for if this empty Name of uncertain Happiness moves thee, do but recollect with me, what Plenty thou enjoyest, and what is yet reserved safe to thee: And therefore if thou yet dost possess that which in the best times thou didst account most precious, it being yet by the Hand of Heaven preserved safe and inviolate, canst thou justly then complain of the Injuries of Fortune? Symmachus thy Father-in-law, the Delight and Ornament of Mankind, whose Welfare thou wouldst readily purchase at the rate of thy Life; one, who by an admirable Temper and Mixture is wholly made up of Wisdom and Virtue, is yet safe, and fearless of his own Concerns; only laments thy Injuries, and grieves for thy Misfortunes. Thy Wife yet lives an Example of Modesty, and a Pattern of Chastity; and that I may in one Word include all her Endowments and Perfections, the true Resemblance of her Father: She lives, I say, and being weary of Life, breathes only for thy sake, and (in which thing alone I will yield that thy Happiness receives Diminution) she pines away with Grief and Tears, and with the Desire of once more enjoying thy sweet Conversation. Why should I mention thy Consular Sons, in whom, being yet so young, so much of the Wit and Spirit of the Grandfather and Father doth shine? Since than it is the chief Care of Men to preserve Life, thou art most happy, if thou wouldst but know it, to whom so many Advantages and Blessings yet remain, which all Men value above Life. Wherefore dry up thy Tears, Fortune hath not expressed her Rage and Malice against you all; nor hath the Tempest been too violent, whilst thy Anchors yet hold, and afford to thee Cause of present Comfort, and Hope of future Felicity.  Bo. 
And may they ever hold! for whilst they are firm, however things go, I shall shift so as to keep my Vessel above the Water, and perhaps to escape; but notwithstanding you may see from what Advantages and Dignities I am fallen.  Ph. 
I should think that we had made a good Advance, if thou didst not yet retain a Concern for the Diminution of thy former Estate. But I cannot suffer that thou shouldest, with so much Delight, mention thy Fortunes, and in so much Anxiety bewail the Loss of so small a part of them: For whose Felicity is so well grounded, who hath not in some things cause to quarrel with his Lot? The Condition of humane Goods is anxious and inconstant; for either they do not all at once arrive, or if they do, they make no stay with us. One Man is blessed with a great Affluence of Wealth, but he is ashamed of the Baseness of his Blood. The Nobility of that Man's Descent makes him conspicuous, but being uneasy within the Bounds of a narrow Estate, and so unable to bear up the Port of his Ancestors, he had rather live retired and unknown. Another abounds with Wealth, and is nobly born too, but he is unmarried, and to complete his Happiness he would have a Wife. Another is happy in Wedlock, but he wants Children, and is troubled that he must gather Riches for another Man's Heir. Another hath the Joy of many Children, but is soon again mortified by seeing the evil Courses which they take. Therefore we fee, that no Man can easily agree with the State of his Fortune; for in all Conditions there is something which, untried, a Man doth not know, and which after trial he doth not approve. Add also to this, that the Senses of the Happy are refined and delicate; and unless every thing happens to them as they desire, or when it pleaseth them, they are impatient: He who is not used to Adversity, is overcome and thrown down by every cross Adventure; and the least evil accidents discompose him: upon so minute and slender things doth the Happiness of the most Fortunate depend. How many Men are there in the World, dost thou believe, who would think themselves advanced almost to Heaven, if they could attain but to the least part of the Remainder of thy Fortunes? This very Place, which thou callest a Place of Banishment, is their Country who inhabit it: And thy Miseries arise only from the ill-grounded Opinion that thou art miserable. And again, every Lot may be happy to that Man who can with Equanimity and Courage bear it. Who is he so happy, who when once he grows impatient, doth not desire to change his State of Life? How much is humane Felicity embittered! which though it may seem sweet to the Enjoyer, yet is not to be retained, but when it pleaseth takes its Flight? So that hence it may appear; how miserable even the greatest Felicity of Men is, since it will not remain with those, who with Equality bear every kind of Lot, nor will bring Comfort to those whose Minds are anxious and oppressed. Why therefore, O wretched Mortals, do ye so industriously seek abroad for that Felicity which is placed at home within yourselves? Error and Ignorance misled and confound you. But I, in short, will show you the very Hinge upon which the truest Happiness doth turn. Is there any thing more precious and estimable to thee than thyself? No, thou wilt say. Then if thou wilt weigh things well, and gain the Command over thyself, thou wilt possess that which thou wouldst never lose, and which Fortune can never take from thee. And that thou mayst see that Beatitude cannot consist in those things which are in the Power of Fortune, only consider thus; If Happiness be the Sovereign Good of Nature, living and subsisting by Reason, than that thing cannot be it, which can by any means be withdrawn from us, because that which cannot be taken away is worthily esteemed the most excellent. Hence it appears that Instability of Fortune is not susceptive of true Happiness. Add to this, that he who is carried away by fading Felicity, doth either know that it is mutable, or he doth not. If he knows it not, what Happiness can he take in the Blindness of his Ignorance? If he knows it, he must necessarily be afraid lest he should lose that which he knows is easily to be lost; and in that case his continual Fear will not suffer him to be happy. Perhaps he cares not if he should lose it, and he would not be much troubled at its Loss. Even truly the Good is but very small and inconsiderable, the Loss of which a Man can bear with such Equanimity and Unconcernedness. And because I know that thou art one who hast been fully persuaded, and by many Demonstrations convinced of the Immortality of the Souls of Men; it also being evident that the Goods of Fortune receive a Period with our Bodies by Death; it cannot then be doubted but if Death can put an end to our Happiness, that all Men, when they die, are plunged into the Depths of Misery. And since we know well, that many Men have endeavoured to obtain Felicity, not only by undergoing Death, but by suffering the most cruel Pains and Torments, how then can it be imagined that this present Life can make Men truly happy, since, when it is ended, Men do not become miserable?   

METRUM iv  
Quisquis volet perennem  
Cautus ponere sedem, etc.  

Who warily would fix his Seat,  
On which no Eastern Winds should beat,  
Nor Waves which rage against the Shore  
Have any Power,  
He must not build upon the high  
And lofty Hills, which brave the Sky;  
Nor will his House securely stand  
Upon the Sand.  
Each Blast will one of them annoy,  
And all its Force on it employ:  
The other being lose and light,  
Can't bear the Weight.  
Seeing the Danger than is great  
To him that loves a pleasant Seat,  
Lay thy Foundation upon  
The firmer Stone;  
And than though Air and Sea conspire,  
Contemn their Rage and slight their Ire:  
So happily in thy strong Hold  
Thou mayst grow old.    

PROSA V  Phi. 
BUT forasmuch as the Applications of my Reasons have sunk into thee, I think it is now time to use some more powerful Medicines: Go to then, if the Gifts of Fortune were not fading and momentary, as they are, what is there to be found in them which may, at any time, be accounted thine? or which, if it be thoroughly considered and looked into, will not appear to be vile and unworthy? Are Riches in their own Nature, or by the Estimation of Men, precious? What sort of Riches is most excellent? Gold, or a great Mass of Silver gathered together? But this appears more glorious by spending it, than by treasuring it up; for Avarice always makes Men odious, and Bounty makes them famous and renowned. And if that which is conferred upon another cannot continue with any Man, then certainly is Money most precious when it is translated to others; and ceases to be possessed by him who hath given it. If all the Money that is in all Parts of the World were gathered into one Hand, the rest of Mankind would be needful and want it. The Sound of a Voice, if it be entire, and not obstructed by any Medium, doth at the same time fill the Ears of many People; but Riches, unless they be diminished and cantoned, cannot meet the Necessities of many; and that being done, they whom they have left must unavoidably submit to Poverty. O therefore (may I justly say) narrow, mean, and even poor Riches! which cannot all be enjoyed by many at the same time, and which cannot be possessed by one, without impoverishing and ruining the rest of Mankind! Doth the Brightness of Jewels attract the Eye? But if there be any thing extraordinary in their Splendour, it is the Brightness of the Stones, and not of the Eye which beholds them; therefore I very much wonder that Men should admire them: For what is it which wants the Faculties and Motions of a Soul, and the Contexture of Joints, which can really seem beautiful to a rational Nature? For although from the Hand of the great Workman, and for Distinction's sake, they have derived something of an inferior Grace and Beauty, yet they are placed below thy Excellence, and by no means worthy to attract thy Admiration. Doth the Beauty of the Fields delight thee much?  Boe. 
Why should it not? for it is a fair Part of the fairest Work, the Creation of the Universe: So sometimes we are delighted with the Clearness of the Sea's Face; sometimes we admire the Heavens, the Stars, the Sun, and Moon.  Phi. 
What do these things concern thee? Darest thou glory in the Splendour of these things? Art thou embellished, or any way distinguished by the Flowers of the Spring? or doth thy Plenty swell in the fruitful Face of Summer? Why art thou carried away with empty Joys? Why dost thou embrace that Good which is out of thy Power? for Fortune can never make that thine, which the Nature of things forbidden to be so. The Fruits of the Earth are doubtless for the Nourishment of living Creatures; and if thou wouldst confine thyself to the supplying only of the Necessities of Nature, thou wouldst not so much seek after the Affluence and Gifts of Fortune: For Nature is satisfied with few things, and those the least: And if thou dost, after such Satiety, overcharge her with Superfluities, that which thou dost superadd, becomes either unpleasant or hurtful to her. To proceed, dost thou think that it recommends thee to the World to shine in Variety of costly Clothes? the Sight of which, if it be grateful to the Eye, the Matter or the Ingenuity of the Workman is to be admired. Doth a great Retinue, and the Attendance of a numerous Train of Servants, make thee happy? If those Servants be vicious, they are a great Burden to the House, and pernicious Enemies to the Master of it. But if they be good, why should the Virtue and Goodness of others be put to thy Account? From all which it plainly appears, that none of these which thou didst number among thy own Goods, were really to be esteemed so. In which, if there be no things desirable, what Reason is there that thou shouldst grieve for the loss of them, or rejoice at their possession? If they are fair or beautiful by Nature, what doth that concern thee? For so by themselves, wholly sequestered from thy Riches, they would please: They therefore are not to be esteemed precious because they are numbered amongst thy Goods, but because they seemed so before thou wert desirous to possess them. What is it then, that with so much Noise, and so much Address, we desire of Fortune? It is, perhaps, to drive away the Fear of Poverty by a general Affluence of Wealth; but this often happens otherwise: for there is great need of many Helps even to keep so great an Accession of Furniture, and Variety of things after they are obtained: And it is most true, that they want most things who possess the most: And on the other side, they want the fewest who measure their Abundance by the Necessities of Nature, and not by the Extravagance of Eccentric and irregular Desires. Is it so then, that Men have no proper and genuine Good planted within them, but that they must be forced to go abroad to seek it? Are things so changed, that Man, that excellent Creature, whose Reason almost entitles him to Divinity, can be no other way sensible of his own Glories, than by the possession of soul-less and unnecessary things? All other Being's are content with their own Endowments, and you only (who are the Image of God) vainly seek accessional Ornaments for your excelling Nature, from things placed so much below you, not understanding how great an Injury you do by it to your Maker. He ordained the Race of Men to excel all other earthly Creatures; and you depress your Dignity and Prerogative below the lowest Being's. For if that Good which belongs to any thing be more precious and worthy than that thing to which it belongs, since you esteemed the most contemptible things to be your Good, you submit yourself, by that your Esteem, to them, and take the lower Place: And this is but what you deserve. For such is the Nature of Man, that he doth then only excel other Being's, when he knows himself: But he may be ranked below the Beasts that perish, when he once slights that necessary and important Knowledge▪ For such Ignorance is natural to other Creatures; but to Man it is unnatural and a Vice. How weak and open an Error is it in Men, who imagine that any thing which is foreign to their Natures, can be an Ornament to them? That cannot in Reality be so; for if any thing look bright and glorious with that which is put upon it, that which covers it is said to shine, and is admired; but notwithstanding the thing covered still continues in its natural Impurity and Disesteem. I therefore deny that thing to be good which is hurtful to him who possesses it. Am I deceived in this? Thou wilt say, no; for Riches have often hurt their Possessors, since every ill Man is the more desirous of other men's Riches, and he thinketh him alone who is in possession of such things, to be a Man of Worth, and to be esteemed. Thou therefore who now so much fearest to be assaulted by the Spear or the Sword, if thou hadst entered into the Path of this Life not encumbered with Riches, thou mightst, like the way-faring Man, with an empty Purse have sung before the Robbers. The Happiness then derived from fading Riches is glorious indeed and great; by the possession of which a Man loseth his Security and Quiet.   

METRUM V  
Felix nimium prior aetas  
Contenta fidelibus arvis, etc.  

I.  
Too happy they, and too much blessed,  
Who did in former Ages live  
Content with what the faithful Earth did give,  
Who Nature's kindly Products thought the best!  
They, yet not lost in Luxury,  
Did with the Acorn Hunger satisfy,  
And the most carving Stomach fill.  
They knew not Hippocras nor Hydromel,  
Nor could the differing Elements join  
Of Honey and of racy Wine;  
Nor did the 
(r) 
Sirian.] The Seres were People who, Orosius saith, L. 3. C. 23. did inhabit a Country betwixt the Rivers Hydaspes and Indus, in whose Territories groweth a Tree covered with a small Down, according to several Authors, as Virgil. Georg. l. 2.  Veileraque ut foliis depectant tenuia Seres. 
And Seneca in Oct. v. 667.  
Nec Moeni â distinguit acu  
Quae Phoebeis subditus Euris  
Legit eois Ser arboribus.  
Claudian also, Car. v. 179.  Stamine quod molli tondent de stipite Seres. 
This Down is produced from the Bowels of the Silk worm, which Worm is elegantly described in the following Verses by Antonius Hallaeus, mentioned before: 
Est Olli mater sanies, dat frondea Nutrix  
Pabula, Thysbaeo Morus polluta cruore.  
Queis avidam ut clausus latebroso in carcere pavit  
Ingluviem, totoque Satur jam corpore turget.  
Viscera dum vacuans paulatim huic molle figurat  
Lanicium; illuviemque modis in tenuia miris  
Nec fila, & teretem glomerans convolvit in orbem.  
 verò emeritus perfecit nobile pensum  
Exanimo similis, pretiosâ ut conditus Vrnâ.  
Hic jacet, at luci mox redditur; induit alas,  
Jamque avis, & vermis, neutrumque & denique monstrum est.    Sirian Fleece in 
(s) Tyrian] Is the Purple with which Silks are died, and it is called Tyrium venenum, because it is a Liquor drawn from a Shellfish, and enters into and infects the Wool, or the Silk, as Poison doth the Bowels and Veins of those who take it: It has the Epithet of Tyrium, because Tyre, a City of Phoenicia, was famous for the Fishery of the Murex, which was the Shellfish yielding this Purple Liquor.  Tyrian Colours shine.   

II.  
Our Fathers on their grassy Beds did sleep,  
Had smiling Visions and inspiring Dreams,  
The passing Rivulets and lucid Streams  
Gave wholesome draughts. Under the spreading Shade  
Of the tall Pine, through which no Ray could peep,  
The gentle Mortal careless lay,  
Shunning the Heats of the Meridian Ray.   

III.  
No Man did blow the Deep, or stem the Floods  
With swelling Canvas and with busy Oar:  
Nor did the Merchant then expose his Goods  
To sale upon an unknown Shore.  
The threatening Notes of the hoarse Trumpet than  
Did not the Man of War awake;  
Ambition did no hateful Quarrels make,  
Nor shining Blades which Purple stain:  
For headlong Fury never could  
Move Men to go to War,  
When what was got was but a Wound or Scar,  
And there was no Reward for shedding Blood.   

iv  
O that those Days would come again  
Which long ago went floating by,  
And swallowed in the mighty Gulf of Time,  
Make now an useless part of vast Eternity!  
The Love of Wealth doth all engage,  
And more than 
(t) 
Aetna.] The Love of Riches is fitly here compared to the Fire of Aetna, for Aetna is a Mountain in the Island of Sicily, called now by the Italians il Mont Gibello, which always burns and flames, and is celebrated by most of the ancient Poets. Virg. 1. Georg.  
Vidimus undantem ruptis fornacibus Aetnam,  
Flammarumque globos, liquefactaque volvere saxa.  
And by several others, whose Descriptions of it are common.   Aetna's Flames doth rage,  
And nothing can the burning Thirst assuage.  
Ill far the Man who broke the deep  
And secret Closets of the Earth,  
And gave to Gold and Diamonds a Birth,  
Which in their Causes did desire to sleep;  
And whence a thousand Troubles Men do daily reap!    

PROSA VI  
BUT why should I discourse of Dignities and Powers, which Men (wholly ignorant of the true Nature of Dignity and Power) advance and extol to the Skies? which, if they are conferred upon a wicked Man, not the raging Flames of Aetna, nor the most impetuous Deluge ravage so much, nor do so much harm as those Weapons in such an hand. I believe you remember, your Ancestors desired to abolish the 
(u) Consular.] Tarqvinius Superbus, the last of the Roman Kings, being become hateful by his Tyranny to the People, who were also the more enraged by the impious Violence of Sextus his Son committed upon the Chastity of Lucretia, was expelled, by the Assistance of Brutus, after he had reigned twenty five Years: Then Lucius Junius Brutus, and Lucius Tarqvinius Collatinus, were first created Consuls. At length as the Form of the Roman Government had changed from Regal to be Consular, so, according to Livy, it was again changed from that of Consuls to that of the Decem-viri: For the Pride of the Consuls every Day increasing, or rather the Fierceness of the People being not wholly subdued, which had derived its Original from Shepherds, and other savage People, who at first for their Defence had gathered into a Body, the Consuls were laid aside, and the Decem-viri succeeded; whose Power, because they had acted many things very tyrannically, was condemned, and taken away the third Year after it had been introduced into the Government.  Consular Government, which gave beginning to the Roman Liberty, because of the Pride of the Consuls; as their Ancestors before, for the same Consideration, had banished Kings out of their City. But if sometimes (which seldom happens) good Men arrive at them, what other thing is there pleasing in them, besides the Probity of those who use and enjoy them? So it comes to pass that Virtue receives not Honour from Dignities, but Dignities derive Honour from Virtue. But what is this Power so much celebrated, and so much desired? O ye terrene Animals! do you not consider who they are over whom you seem to exercise Authority? If thou shouldst see an ambitious Mouse, claiming a Superiority with her self over the rest of her Species, wouldst thou not almost burst with Laughter? So then, if thou considerest the Contexture and Temperament of his Body, what canst thou find in the World more feeble than Man, or more subject to Casualties and Misfortunes, to whom even a Fly (one of the smallest Products of Nature) by a By't, or by creeping into the secret Recesses of his Body, may be the Cause of Death? But why should any Man exercise Authority over another, unless it be over his Body, or what is yet inferior to that, over his Possessions, which are the Gifts of Fortune? Shalt thou ever gain an Ascendant over a free and clear Soul? Shalt thou ever move the highborn Mind, consistent with itself, and knit together by the Bands of Reason, from the proper Centre of its Quiet? When a certain Tyrant once thought by Torments to compel a 
(w) Philosophy speaks here of Anaxarchus the Philosopher, a Follower of Democritus: This Anaxarchus having incurred the Displeasure of Nicocreon King of Cyprus, was ordered by him to be put into a Mortar, and to be pounded with great brazen Pestles: He bore it with so great Courage and Patience, that he said to the Tyrant, Beat on, beat on the Back of Anaxarchus, thou canst not hurt him. The Tyrant said he would pluck out his Tongue; he hearing that, presently bitten it off, and spit it in the Tyrant's Face.  Free Man to discover some Persons who had conspired against his Life, the Man bitten off his own Tongue, and spit it in his Face swelling and bloated with Rage: so by his Wisdom disappointing the Tyrant, and making those Torments which his Cruelty had designed, Matter of Triumph to his Heroic Courage. To go further, what is it that any Man may do to another, which another may not do again to him? We are told, that it was the Custom of 
(x) Busiris.] He was the Son of Neptune by Lydia the Daughter of Epaphus, and a most cruel Tyrant of the Egyptians: He sacrificed his Guests to Jupiter, not sparing the Priest from whom he had received the Counsel to do it: but whilst he prepared to give the same Treatment to Hercules, he was, with Amphidama his Son, and his Ministers and Officers, killed by Hercules at the Altar. 
— Quis aut Eurystea durum:  
Aut illaudati nescit Busiridis arras. Virg. Georg. l. 3.   Busiris to kill his Guests, and himself at last was killed by Hercules his Guest. 
(y) Regulus.] He was Consul, and having vanquished the Salentini, who inhabited that Country near the Apennine Mountains, which is now called Parte dela Terra d' Otranto, he triumphed at Rome, and was the first of the Roman Generals who conducted a Fleet into Africa; and being himself taken by the Carthaginians whom he had conquered, he was put to Death by them by cutting off his Eyelids.  Regulus after a Victory put many of the Carthaginians into Chains, but himself soon after was forced to yield to their Fetters. Dost thou therefore think that the Power of that Man ought to be magnified, who cannot hinder another from committing that upon him which he lately committed upon another? Consider too, that if there were any thing of proper or natural Good in these Dignities and Powers, they would never be attained by wicked Men, for disagreeing things do not use to unite; and Nature forbids that contrary things should join: So that seeing wicked Men do often execute Offices of Dignity and Trust, it appears that they are not good in themselves, because they can reside in such Subjects. The same may also be most justly said of all the Gifts of Fortune which are most commonly showed in greatest Plenty upon the worst of Men. It ought also to be considered, that no Man doubteth him to be valiant, in whom he hath seen the Virtue of Fortitude shine: nor him to be swift of foot, in whom he hath seen Swiftness. So Music maketh a a Musician; the Science of Physic a Physician; and Rhetoric a Rhetorician. The Nature of every thing acts properly according to its End, nor is mixed with foreign Effects of differing Being's, but of its own Accord repels what is contrariant to it, or may be destructive of it. Riches cannot extinguish the unquenchable Thirst of Avarice; nor can Power give him Command of himself, who is already the Slave of his Vices, and bound in the insoluble Chains of his Lusts. So Dignities conferred upon ill Men do not only not make them worthy, but rather show their Unworthiness by laying them open, and discovering their Shame. But how comes this to pass? you are pleased to impose upon things false Names, and differing from their Natures, which are often laid open, and appear by the Effects of those very things: so that even these Riches, and this Power, and that Dignity, ought not of right to be called by those Names. And lastly, the same thing may be said of all the Gifts of Fortune, in which it is manifest, that nothing is desirable, nor is there any thing of native Good in them, since they are not always the Lot of good Men, nor make them good to whom they are allotted.   

METRUM VI  
Novimus quantas dederit ruinas  
Urbe flammatâ, patribusque caecis, etc.  
We know what Ruin 
(z) Nero.] He governed the Roman Empire about the Year of Christ 57 So long as he used the Advice of his Master Seneca he governed well; but he being removed, he fell into a Course of all Wickedness and Impiety, and became a great Example of Infamy, Luxury, Avarice and Cruelty. First he appeared upon the Theatre not only as an Actor, but as an Harper: Next, he would wear no Habit twice; he would never travel without a thousand Carriages, and all the Shoes of his Mules were of Silver: He fished always with a Golden Net, and with purple and scarlet Cords: He gaping after all men's Goods, did only desire to appear rich. Lastly, having ordered Rome to be burnt, he laid it to the Charge of the Christians, and put to Death the Chief of them, Peter and Paul the Apostles; as also Seneca his Master, Antonia his Aunt, and Britannicus his Brother, Octavia his Wife, Agrippina his Mother; and at last he killed himself. Vid. Sueton. l. 6.  Nero's Rage did cause,  
When he 
(a)  Rome.] He did not burn the whole City, only a Part of it, where the worst Buildings were; which he did for a Jest, that he might by it represent the Siege of Troy. Sueton. l. 6.  burned Rome, & triumphed o'er its Laws,  
When all the 
(b) The Conscript Fathers.] A blazing Star, saith Suetonius, which is thought to portend Destruction to Governments and Potentates, began now for several Nights to appear. Nero being troubled at this, consulted Babylus an ginger; he answered, that Princes were wont to expiate these kind of Portents by some illustrious Slaughter, and to avert their Effects from themselves, by throwing them upon the Heads of their Ministers and the Magistrates: upon which Advice he sentenced all the Nobility and Senators to Death.  Conscript Fathers he did kill;  
When yet his 
(c) His Brother.] Britannicus who was the Son of Claudius by Messalina, as he himself was by Agrippina, he poisoned him.  Brother's Blood, which he did spill,  
Was warm, his 
(d) His Mother.] Agrippina was Daughter to Germanicus, Sister to Caligula, Wife, first of Domitianus, afterwards of Claudius, whom she poisoned that she might make Nero her Son (who rewarded her with Death) Possessor of the Empire. When she was dead, he went to view her Body, made Observations of all the Parts of it, and some he praised, some he dispraised. Adduntur praedictis atrociora, saith Suetonius, nec incertis autoribus, Neronem ad visendum interfectae matris cadaver accurrisse; contrectâsse membra, alia vituperâsse, sitique interim obortâ bibisse.  Mother a sad Victim fell.  
Then whilst the Body cold and breathless lay,  
Without a Tear the Tyrant did survey  
Its Parts, each Fault, each Beauty did espy;  
These he did praise, and these he did decry.  
This Monster yet to all those 
(e) 
All those Lands.] He governed the Roman Empire which stretcheth itself to the four Quarters of the World, East, West, North and South. Thus Virg. Aen. l. 6.  
En! hujus, nate, auspiciis illa inclyta Roma  
Imperium terris, animos aequabit Olympo:  
Hic vir, hic est, tibi quem promitti saepius audis  
Augustus Caesar, Diuûm genus, aurea condet  
Saecula qui rursus Latio, regnata per a●va  
Saturno quondam: super & Garamantas, & Indos  
Proferet imperium: jacet extra sydera tellus,  
Extra anni solisque vias, ubi coelifet Atlas  
Axem humero torquet stellis ardentibus aptum.   Lands gave Law,  
Which Phoebus in his daily Voyage saw,  
Stretching along from the remotest East  
To th' utmost Point of the Sea-beaten West;  
And all those other Countries did control  
Which towards the South reach from the Northern Pole.  
Can Nero's Power remove his Passions Sway,  
Or force his Rage his Reason to obey?  
Power should not added be to him whose Will  
Before did prompt and urge him to do ill.   

PROSA VII.  Boe. 
THOU knowest well that I did the least of any Man covet mortal and fading Possessions; I only desired an honourable Occasion of being employed in Business and fit Matter to exercise my Virtue, lest it should silently grow useless and old.  Phi. 
This is one thing which may tempt, I had almost said debauch, some Minds naturally well inclined and endowed, though not yet arrived at the Perfection of Virtue, I mean the Desire of Glory, and the Fame of having deserved well of ones Country and the Commonwealth: but how small, and how truly void of Weight even that is, do but from hence observe: Thou hast learned from Astrological Demonstrations, that the whole Circuit of the Earth bears the Proportion only of a Point to the Greatness of the Heaven; that is, if it be compared to the Magnitude of the Celestial Globe, it may be judged to have no Space or Compass. And of this small Region of the World, almost the fourth Part is inhabited by living Creatures, known to us, as Ptolemy hath seemed to prove. And if thou shalt abate also all which is overflown by the Sea, and Marshes, and Lakes, and also all that Space of the Globe which is desert and overspread with Sands, or burned up by the too near Vicinity of the Sun, thou wilt find that what is left for the Habitation of Men, is but a very small Proportion. And do you who are placed in, and confined to the least Point of this Point, think of nothing but of propagating your Fame, and exerting your Names, and making yourselves renowned? What is there august or magnificent in Glory, confined to so small and narrow Bounds? Add to this, that this little Enclosure is inhabited by several Nations differing in Tongue, in Manners, and in way of Life: to whom, as well by reason of the Difficulties and Inconveniencies of Journeying, as by the Diversity of Languages, and the Unfrequency of Commerce, not only the Fame of particular Men, but even the Names of great Cities, cannot arrive. In the time of Marcus Tullius, as himself in his Writings tells us, the Fame of the Roman Commonwealth, which was then well grown and robust, and redoubled by the Parthians and several other Nations in these Parts, was not yet known to those who inhabited beyond the Mountain Caucasus. Thou seest then how narrow and straight that Glory is which thou labourest so much to propagate and dilate. Dost thou think that the Glories of a Roman Man shall reach those Places where the Fame and Story of the illustrious Roman Commonwealth would never reach? Do not the Customs and Institutions of several Countries disagree among themselves; so that that which with some is adjudged to be Praiseworthy, with others is thought to deserve Disgrace and Punishment. Hence it appears, that it is not the Interest of any Man who desires Renown, to have his Name spread through many Countries, and divers People, but that he should be content with that Glory and Fame which he can arrive at amongst his Countrymen, and not care to have the Immortality of it extended beyond the Bounds of one Country. But how many Men, great and famous in their Generations, hath the Carelessness and Neglect of Writers passed by in Silence? Although indeed one may justly ask, what can such Memorials profit a Man, which with their Authors must at length yield to the Powers of Age, and be with them buried in Oblivion? But Men imagine that they have obtained Immortality if their Names shall but live in future Ages. But if they would compare this to the infinite Progress of Eternity, what have they which should make them pleased at the Diuturnity of their Fame? For if the Duration of one Moment be compared with that of ten thousand Years, the Spaces of both being definite, it hath some, though a very little Portion of it. (But yet this very Number of Years, and as many more as can by Numbers be multiplied, cannot at all be compared to endless Duration: For there may be some Comparison betwixt finite Being's amongst themselves, but there can be none at all betwixt Infinite and Finite. Hence it is that Fame (however durable and lasting) considered with infinite Eternity, will seem not only to be little, but indeed nothing. But you think you cannot do well, unless you have the empty Applause of the People; and foregoing the Pleasures of a good Conscience, and the Consideration of the innate Worth of Virtue, and the Pleasure of Actions resulting from it, you look for a Reward from the partial Breath, and vain Discourses of the Many. Observe now how one once ingeniously played upon the Lightness and Folly of such Arrogance. A certain Person accosted another with contumelious Language, who had assumed to himself the Name of a Philosopher, not out of a Principle of Virtue, but for the itch of Vainglory: and he added, that he should now know if he were a true Philosopher, by bearing patiently the Injuries offered to him; he putting on for a while a counterfeit Patience, said then to the other, Dost thou now believe me to be a Philosopher? He answered smartly again, I had indeed believed it, if thou couldst still have held thy Tongue. What then is it that great and worthy Men (for of such I speak) who would by virtuous ways acquire Glory; what is it (I say) of Advantage which they receive by a great Name after the Body is resolved into Dust? For if (which our Reason and Religion forbids us to believe) the whole Fabric of Man, Body and Soul, is dissolved, and dies together, then is there no Glory; nor can there be when he (to whom it belongs) doth no more exist. But if the Soul which hath deserved well, when it's enlarged from its earthly Prison, doth take a swift and unimpeached Flight to Heaven, will it not despise the Earth and its Businesses; and being wrapped in the Joys of Heaven, rejoice that it is wholly exempt from sublunary Considerations and Concerns?   

METRUM VII.  
Quicunque solam ment praecipiti petit,  
Summumque credit gloriam, etc.  

I.  
Who Glory vainly doth pursue,  
And dreams it is the Sovereign Good,  
Let him the starry Country's view,  
And then 'twill soon be understood  
How small Earth is, compared to that vast Frame;  
And then he will despise, not seek a glorious Name.   

II.  
Why to be freed from Death should Man desire?  
For though his Fame doth widely fly,  
Though splendid Titles he acquire,  
At last the mighty thing must die;  
And in the Grave is no Distinction made  
Betwixt the Great & Low, the Sceptre & the Spade.   

III.  
Where is the good 
(f) 
Fabritius.] He was a Roman Consul, and celebrated by both Orators and Poets, especially for his Fidelity and Truth: First because he was tempted with the Offer of great Gifts by Pyrrhus' King of the Epirotes, and even of the Promise of the fourth part of his Kingdoms, if he would leave the Interest and Service of his Country, which he refused: And also because he sent back to the same King Pyrrhus Tymochares his Physician, who offered, for a Reward, to give Poison to his Prince. Which generous Action was so admired by that King, that he said, it was more easy to divert the Sun from its Course, than Fabritius from the Paths of Honesty. From whence Claud. Carm. 26. v. 130.  
— Et nulli pervia culpae  
Pectora Fabritii donis invicta vel armis.   Fabritius now?  
And where the noble 
(g) Brutus.] This was Lucius Brutus, so called for the Stupidity which he acted for fear of the Tarquins. It was he, who after the Expulsion of the Tarquins for the Rape committed upon Lucretia, did assert the Roman Liberty, together with Collatinus; for which Reason they were constituted the first Consuls.  Brutus? Where  
Is 
(h) 
Cato.] As Brutus had his Name imposed from his feigned Stupidity, so Cato derived his from his Wisdom, because catus signifieth Wise; from whence Cato. There were two excellent Men who were famous by this Surname; of one or both of whom Philosophy may here speak, viz. Cato major and Cato minor, sprung both, at different times, from the Portian Stock, settled at Tusculum, now called Trascat, within a few Miles of Rome, where there are many pleasant Villas, magnificent Palaces, Gardens adorned with Grottoes, Cascades, and other Water-works belonging to the Roman Princes and Nobility. The first, who was called the Censor, flourished about the Year 570 from the building of the City, and arrived at a great old Age. Cato minor, who was called Praetorius, lived in the very time of the Civil Wars betwixt Caesar and Pompey; of whom Lucan singeth something too profanely, Regard being had to the Heathenish Superstition of those times, thus; Victrix causa Deis placuit, sed victa Catoni. Horace also, l. 2. Carm. Ode 1. thus; 
Audire magnos jam videor deuces  
Non indecoro pulvere sordidos;  
Et cuncta terrarum subacta,  
Praeter atrocem animum Catonis.    Cato with his rugged Brow?  
'Tis little of them doth appear:  
In a few Letters now their Fame doth live,  
But nothing of their Persons can the knowledge give.   

iv  
Men lie in dark Oblivion's Shade,  
Nor are their Virtues spread by Fame;  
Nor can they think t'outlive their Fate  
By a poor airy dying Name:  
To conquering Time that fancied Life must yield;  
So Death will twice victoriously have won the Field.    

PROSA VIII.  
BUT lest thou shouldst believe that I am an inexorable Enemy to Fortune, and wage an endless War against her, I shall confess, that there are sometimes when that faithless One may deserve well of Men; then I mean when she opens and discovers herself, and freely confesses herself to be what she really is. Thou dost not perhaps yet understand what I am about to say. The thing is wonderful which I desire to tell thee, and therefore I almost want Words to express this Paradox, to wit, that adverse Fortune doth more profit and truly more advantage Men than prosperous: For this, under the Cloak and Show of Happiness, when she smileth and caresses, lies and deceives; the other always fairly and openly declares her Enmity, and shows her Instability by her constant Changes: That deceives, this instructs; that by a precious Show of Good binds the Minds of those she favours; this by the Knowledge of her Fickleness frees and absolves them: therefore thou mayst observe the one always faithless, airy, wavering, and ignorant of its own Condition; the other sober, stayed, and even prudent in managing and making the best use of Adversity. Lastly, prosperous Fortune, by her Allurements and Blandishments, draws Men from the right, aside, and out of the direct way, leading to that which is the sovereign Good; whilst, for the most part, the other doth not only lead Men, but as it were draw them with a Hook to true and genuine Happiness. Further, thinkest thou that it is to be esteemed the least Good which we receive from this hard, and at the first sight, horrible Fortune, that she doth discover to thee the Hearts of thy faithful Friends, since she distinguisheth between the constant and doubtful Countenances of thy Companions and Acquaintance; and when she departeth, that she taketh away her Friends and leaves thine. At what rate wouldst thou have bought the knowledge of this, when thou wert (as it seemed to thee) in thy prosperous Estate? Forbear then to deplore the Loss of thy Riches and Honours, since thou hast found the most valuable Jewel, the most precious kind of Riches, I mean the Knowledge of thy unalterable and sincere Friends.   

METRUM VIII.  
Quod mundus stabili fide  
Concords variat vices, etc.  
That this great Fabric of the Universe  
Doth by a constant Order suffer Change;  
That Elements, which by Nature disagree,  
Are by a Line perpetual firmly bound;  
That Phoebus in his Chariot brings the Day,  
And that the Moon doth rule the sable Night,  
Which Hesperus officiously leads on;  
That the salt Waves are kept within their Bounds,  
Lest they should on the Right of Earth encroach,  
Is all the Effect of Love, which rules the Sea,  
Which doth command the many-peopled Earth,  
And even to Heaven its Empire doth extend.  
If he his Reins should carelessly remit,  
Those things which now affectionately love  
Would presently declare an open War:  
And would the well-moved Machine soon dissolve.  
This, People of a different Lip doth bind  
With sacred Cords: this ties the Nuptial Knot,  
And with chaste Vows does what is bound confirm:  
This doth to Friendship dictate binding Laws.  
O happy Men if Love, which rules in Heaven,  
Had an Ascendant o'er your noble Minds.  
The End of the Second Book.    

ANICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOETIUS, OF THE Consolation of Philosophy. BOOK the Third.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Philosophy now urgeth stronger Arguments, to wit, that all Men do seek after Happiness; but that they do very much err in the way of obtaining it, whilst some believe to find it in Riches, others in Dignities, in the Favour of Kings, in the Glory of great Achievements, in Nobility, or in the Pleasures of the Body: She demonstrates clearly, that it is in none of these, because they are so far from being to be accounted Goods, that they are accompanied with a great many Evils; but in God, who is the Sovereign and only Good, and that by his Order the World is governed.  

PROSA I.  
BY this time she had ended her Song, when I, desirous to hear more, was so charmed by the pleasantness of it, that I stood long expecting that she would proceed: but at last said I, O thou chief Support and Stay of languishing Minds, how much hast thou refreshed me either with the weight of thy Sentences or the sweetness of thy Numbers! so that now I almost think myself an equal Match for Fortune, and able to resist her Blows. Therefore I do not only not fear the Applications of those Remedies, which thou didst say a little before were sharp, but I earnestly desire to hear what they are. I well perceived that, returned she, when with silence and attention thou didst receive my Words; and I did then expect such a State of Mind in thee, or what is more true, I did then create in thee such an one. And indeed what yet remains to be said is of such a Nature, that when it is first tasted, it seems to by't, and is unpleasant; but when it is once swallowed it turns sweet, and is most grateful to the Stomach. But because thou sayest thou wouldst now gladly hear, with what Desire wouldst thou burn, if thou couldst imagine whither I am now about to lead thee? Whither is that I pray thee? (said I). To that true genuine Felicity, answered she, which thy Mind doth apprehend as if it were in a Dream, and of which thou seemest to have some Foretaste. But thy Sight is so clouded with false Forms, and light Appearances, that it cannot bear the Lustre of that Object. Then I entreat thee without Delay, show me that true Happiness. I will most willingly, at thy Desire, do it, replied she: but I will endeavour to describe that false and adulterate Cause which is better known to thee; and that being fully laid open, thou wilt be better able to comprehend that exact Model of true Felicity which I shall draw by casting thine Eye upon its contrary.   

METRUM I.  
Qui serere ingenuum volet agrum,  
Liberat arva prius fruticibus,  
False rubos filicemque resecat, etc.  

He who the grateful Field would sow,  
Must Shrubs and Fern out of it throw,  
That so the Corn may put away and grow.  
To him who with offensive Meat  
Did once his Palate vitiate,  
The Labour of the busy Bee is sweet.  
When the 
(a) The Southwind.] It is of its Nature to bring Rain, and to drive on the waterish Clouds.  Southwind, affecting Peace,  
Doth its Storm-breathing Noises cease,  
The radiant Glories of the Stars increase.  
When 
(b) Lucifer.] It is the Morningstar, which is called Venus: by the Greeks it is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and by the Latins Lucifer when it goes before the Sun, and when it followeth him Hesperus. So Virgil. Eclog. 8. v. 17. Nascere praeque diem veniens age Lucifer almum.  Lucifer's victorious Ray  
Hath chased Night's darker Shades away,  
Then clothed in gay Apparel comes the Day.  
So if thou canst thyself retrieve  
From that which did thy Eyes deceive,  
Thy Mind will soon the truest Good perceive.    

PROSA II.  
THAN fixing her Eye a little, and as it were withdrawing herself into the most inward Cabinet of her Mind, she thus began; All the Care and manifold Studies of Men do indeed proceed in differing Paths, but they tend to one only End, which is Happiness: And Happiness is that complete Good, of which when a Man is once possessed, he hath nothing more to desire. This indeed is the Sovereign Good of all, and contains all others in it: To which, if any thing were wanting, it could not be the chief, because there would be something without itself, some foreign Advantage which were to be desired. It is therefore apparent that Blessedness or Happiness is that perfect State in which all other Goods meet and centre; which, as I have said, all Men endeavour to arrive at by differing Ways and Means: For in the Minds of Men there is naturally inserted a Desire of the true Good, but wand'ring Error leads them to the false and fictitious one; so that some, believing it to be the chief of Goods to want nothing, labour for an abundance of Riches: Others again believing Happiness to consist in being reverenced and esteemed by their Countrymen, endeavour all they can after Honours. There are also those who place it in Power, and these endeavour either to rule themselves, or to be Favourites to those who actually govern. There are those also who fancy an high Renown to be the height of Happiness; and these, by all the Arts of War and Peace, hasten to propagate their Names, and to arrive at Glory. Many measure the Fruits of this Good by Joy and Cheerfulness, and they think it the happiest thing in the World to abound in Luxury, and to be dissolved in Pleasures. Some there are who use these Causes and Ends interchangeably; as they who desire Riches as a Means to obtain Power and Pleasures; or as they who desire Power, either that by it they may get Money or purchase a Name: About these and such like things the Intention of all humane Actions and Desires is versed and employed, as Nobility and popular Applause are sought after by some, which Men think do make them famous, and Wives and Children by others are desired for the sake of Pleasure. Only Friendship, which is a sacred kind of Tie, is not to be reckoned amongst the Goods of Fortune, but amongst those of Virtue: but all other things are desired either for the Power or the Pleasure which they afford. Now for the Goods of the Body, they are to be referred to the things mentioned before: For Strength, and the large Proportion of Parts, seem to give Power and Worthiness, Beauty and Swiftness, to afford Glory and Fame; and Health and Indolence of Body yield Joy and Pleasure. In all these things it appears that Happiness is only wanting; for whatever any one desireth above other things, he judgeth that to be the chief Good: But we have already defined Happiness to be the Sovereign of Goods; wherefore every one judgeth that to be the happiest State, which he desires above all others. Thou hast now therefore before thine Eyes an exact Scheme and Form of humane Felicity, that is, Riches, Honours, Powers, Glory and Pleasure, which last was only considered by 
(c) Epicurus.] Epicurus was a Philosopher known enough: In Physics, he taught that Bodies were compounded of Atoms; and in Ethics, that the chief or sovereign Good did consist in Pleasure: and argued thus; Since there are no other Goods except Riches, Honours, Power, Glory and Pleasures; that Good amongst these which excels the others ought to be esteemed the Sovereign Good; but Pleasure seems to excel all the others, because the rest are not sought after, but because they seem to bring Joyfulness and Pleasure to the Mind. Voluptuous Men are from him usually called Epicures.  Epicurus; and consequently he did declare that Happiness consisted in that alone, because he imagined that other things did withdraw Joy and Cheerfulness from the Heart and Spirits. But I return to the Studies and Inclinations of Men, whose Minds are always bend upon the chief Good, and are ever seeking after it, though it seemeth to be as with a darkened Understanding, and like a drunken Man reeling about, and not knowing which Path to take which may lead him home. Do they, let me ask thee, seem to wander who endeavour to put themselves into a Condition of wanting nothing? Certainly there is no State doth so much afford Happiness as that of having Plenty and Affluence of all good things, of being out of need of being beholden to another, but having sufficient for one's self. Or are they guilty of Folly who think that what is the best doth deserve Esteem and Reverence? Certainly no; for that thing is surely not vile and contemptible, which all Men with so much Intention labour after. Is not Power to be numbered amongst Goods? why not? for is that to be esteemed feeble and without Strength, which is apparently better than all other things? Is Renown not to be regarded? but it cannot be denied, but that whatever is most excellent seemeth also to be most renowned. For to what purpose shall we say that Happiness is not an anxious and melancholy thing, nor subject to Grief and Trouble, since even in the least things Men seek for what may delight and please them? These are the things which Men desire to obtain and possess, and for this Cause do they labour after Riches, Dignities, Commands, Glory, and Pleasure, that they may have Sufficiences and Abundance within themselves, that so they may arrive at Esteem, Power and Fame. It must therefore be a Good, of which all are in quest by so divers Ways and different Studies: And from hence it may easily appear how great the Power and Force of Nature is, since notwithstanding that all Men differ very much in their Opinions of Good, yet they All agree in the choice of the End of it.   

METRUM II.  
Quantas rerum flectat habenas  
Natura potens, etc.  

I'll take my Harp, and touch each warbling String,  
And I, her Bard, will sing  
Of Nature's powerful Hand,  
Which doth with Reins the Universe command.  
My Song shall comprehend each Law,  
By which she doth all Being's bind and awe,  
I'll read her mighty 
(d) Pandects.] I style the Book of Nature so here, because the Etymology of Pandectae is from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 omne, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 capio, as containing all sorts of Learning and Things: But properly the Volumes or Body of the Civil Law called Digests, gathered and compiled from 37 Civilians, were called Pandectae.  Pandects o'er,  
My Eye into each Page shall look  
Of the 
(e) Elephantine.] Libri Elephantini were the Books wherein the Orders and Decrees of the Senate of Rome were written: They were called so from the Largeness of them.  Elephantine Book,  
And I her choicest Secrets will explore.  
Although the 
(f) Punic.] African, or of afric and particularly of that Part of it near Carthage.  Punic Lion should forget  
Himself, and to a servile Chain submit;  
Though the same Hand which gave him Meat,  
Presumes the noble Beast to beat;  
Although he meanly then looks low,  
And seems to dread his haughty Keeper's Brow,  
Yet if the Blood his Face o'rspread,  
Which that imperious Blow did shed,  
His wakened Courage doth arise,  
And he remembers that by Right he is  
The powerful Monarch of the Lawns & Wood:  
Ashamed of his base Fears, he loud doth cry,  
His Plaints invade the Sky,  
He breaks his Chain, and meets his Liberty;  
And his presuming Keeper shall  
A bloody Victim to his Fury fall.  
When 
(g) Philomela.] The Text is, quae canit altis garrula ramis Alice, I have rendered by Philomela, because she partakes of the common Nature of all of her kind. The Story of Philomela, Daughter of Pandion King of Athens, and the Fiction upon it by the Poets, is so well known that I need not insert it at length here; She was ravished by Tereus' King of Thrace (who married her Sister Progne.) He cut out her Tongue that she might not discover the Rape, but she wrought the whole Story in Embroidery, and sent it to her Sister out of Prison: Now at the Feast of Bacchus they were all met together; Progne therefore took her Sister out of Prison, and made her kill her Son Itys, and dress him and serve him up at Table to Tereus, who being enraged, would have killed them; but pursuing his Wife, she was metamorphosed into a Swallow, Tereus into a Lapwing, Itys into a Pheasant, and Philomela into a Nightingale, who with warbling Notes is still feigned to lament the Misfortunes of her Family. Ovid. Metam. lib. 6. ver. 510.  Philomela, which from the Wood  
The sleeping Sun was wont to serenade,  
Into her Prison is betrayed;  
Although she have the choicest Food  
Which Man can for his Taste invent,  
Yet that will not prevent;  
But, if she from the Prison view the Shade  
Of that delightful Grove,  
Where she had often mourned her Tragic Love,  
The Meats prepared she doth despise,  
Charmed with the Woods which entertain her Thoughts and Eyes,  
She nothing but the Woods affects,  
And to their Praise her choicest Notes directs.  
The Sapling forced by a strong Hand,  
His tender Top doth downward bend:  
But if that Hand doth it remit,  
It straight towards Heaven again lifts up its Head.  
The Sun in the 
(h) Hesperian.] Philosophy takes this Argument from the Sun, whom the Poet's fable to hid himself in the Sea when he sets, that by so doing, having purged and washed off the Filth and Dust which he hath contracted in his Course in the Day time, he might in the Morning appear more pure and splendid. The Hesperian Sea is denominated from that Star which appeareth first to us after the setting of the Sun.  Hesperian Main  
At Night his Royal Bed doth make,  
But by 
(i) Secret Path.] Because the way by which the Sun returns from the Western to the Eastern Part of Heaven is wholly unknown; for all Countries have those other Countries placed on the part of the Globe contrary to them for Antipodes, the Sun not appearing to them at the same time.  a secret Path again  
His wont Journey towards the East doth take.  
All things regard their Origine,  
And gladly thither would retreat;  
To nothing certain Order doth remain,  
But that which makes the End to meet  
With its Beginning, and a Round to be  
Fixed on the Basis of Stability.    

PROSA III.  
AND you, O Men, whose Thoughts are so employed upon things below, that I may fitly call you earthly Animals, do think ever of your Beginning, though it be but with a dreaming and darkened Imagination, and you have always the true end of Happiness in view, although you have no clear and perfect Notion of it: So that though your natural Intention leads you to the true Good, yet indirect and manifold Error draws you from it. Consider now if Men can by those Means by which they endeavour to attain Happiness, arrive at their desired End. For if Riches, if Honours, and other the like Accessions can place one in such a State, that he shall seem to want no other thing to make him happy, then will I confess that Felicity may be derived from such Acquisitions. But if so it be that these cannot make good what they seem so fairly to promise, and that those who possess them in the greatest measure, do yet want many other Advantages and good things, will not the counterfeit and mistaken Face of Happiness be clearly discovered in them? First of all therefore I ask thee, who not long since didst abound in Riches, whether sometimes in that great abundance thy Mind was not anxious and discomposed upon the receiving of any notable Injury?  Boet. 
Truly I never remember that in my most numerous Prosperity my Spirits were so free as not to be oppressed with some Trouble or other.  Phil. 
And was not that because something was absent which thou didst desire, or something present which thou wouldst have had away?  Boet. 
So it was truly.  Phil. 
Why then thou desiredst the Presence of that, and the Absence of this.  Boet. 
I confess it.  Phil. 
Every Man wanteth that which he desireth.  Boet. 
Doubtless he doth.  Phil. 
Can that Man then who wanteth any thing be said to have all things within himself sufficient for his Necessities?  Boet. 
No.  Phil. 
And didst not thou in all thy Plenty labour under this want?  Boet. 
What then?  Phil. 
Then hence it follows that Riches cannot put a Man beyond all want, nor make him self-sufficient, although this was it which they seemed to promise. And this also I think of great Moment to be considered, that Money hath nothing in its own Nature which can hinder its being taken from the Possessor, though against his Will.  Boet. 
I confess that.  Phil. 
It ought to be confessed, when we see every Day that the stronger takes it from the weaker. From whence spring all Debates at Law, and all Complaints in Courts of Judicature, but from this, that Men desire to recover their Estates and Goods, of which they have been bereft either by Force or Fraud?  Boet. 
It is plain.  Phil. 
Then every Man needeth foreign Helps to maintain the Possession of his Money.  Boet. 
Who denies it?  Phil. 
But he would not want such Help unless he were the Owner of Money, which he is in a possibility of losing.  Boet. 
That is unquestionable.  Phil. 
Then is the thing turned into its contrary; for Riches, which were thought to have made a Man self-sufficient, do rather make him have need of Aid from others. By what way do Riches drive away Necessity? Can rich Men be neither hungry nor thirsty? Are not the Bodies of the Rich sensible of Winter's Cold? But perhaps thou mayst say, such Men have wherewith to satisfy this, and to quench that, and to keep out the other. By these Means its true that Riches may comfort and support those who suffer these things, but they cannot wholly free them from such Inconveniences. But if these Necessities, which are ever gaping and ask for more, cannot be supplied with Wealth, than there still remains something which should be satisfied. I shall not now urge that the smallest things are sufficient for Nature, and that nothing is enough for Avarice. But if Riches cannot remove Want, but rather create it, why should Men vainly imagine that they can meet and supply all humane Necessities?   

METRUM III.  
Quamvis fluente dives auri gurgite  
Non expleturas cogat avarus opes, etc.  

The rich Man's Avarice with his Wealth would grow,  
Tho golden 
(k) Tagus.] A great River in Spain, which having run 400 Miles, falls into the Sea two Leagues below Lisbon; it is called by the Inhabitants of the Country Taio, by the Portuguese d' Teio, by the French le Tage: It is said to carry Gold-sand in the bottom of it; which, it is believed, it washeth from some Hills, where Mines of that Metal are engendered, which it passeth by in its Course.  Tagus through his Meads should flow;  
Though Chains of Pearl grace his Neck and Arms,  
Though with an hundred Yoke he tills his Farms:  
Care shall his busy Life unquiet make,  
And at his Death his Gold shall him forsake.    

PROSA iv  
BUT it may be said that Dignities render those Men honoured and esteemed who possess them. I shall only then ask, if they have the Power to place Virtue in the Minds of those who enjoy them, and clear them from Vice? Surely no, for it hath been found by experience, that they are so far from expelling vicious Habits, that they rather make them more conspicuous. Hence it is that we often so much disdain their being conferred upon undeserving Men. For which Reason, 
(l) Catullus.] He was a noted Poet, who was so satirical in his Verses, that he did not spare the Emperor himself; he might therefore well reflect upon Nonius, though so great a Magistrate. Carm. 53. 
Quid est Catulle, quid moraris emori?  
Sellâ in Curuli Struma Nonius sedet:  
Per Consulatum pejerat Vatinius.  
Quid est Catulle, quid moraris emori?   Catullus called 
(m) Nonius.] Many Critics believe that Boetius did not know that Struma was the Surname of Nonius, as Joseph Scaliger and others: but certainly, as the French Commentator well observes, and as it may be obvious to others who will consider well, he is not accusable either of Ignorance or Mistake; for though Struma was the Cognomen of Nonius his Family, it is not yet plain here that he was styled so in Contempt by Catullus: for a Surname was often imposed upon those who first did bear it from some notable Defect either of Body or Mind; as upon him who was first called Servius à Servo, a Slave; Spurius à Spurio, a Bastard; Brutus à Bruto, a brutal stupid Person. Add to this, that this sort of Surname is never found to be joined amongst the ancient Romans with the Name of any Person to whom Disgrace was not designed by it: Struma was the Surname of Nonius, which doubtless was imposed on him or some of his Ancestors, who were infected with the Struma, which is a Disease caused by a W●n or Swelling on the Neck or Armholes, or on both, and is taken by some now to be the King's Evil. It is the likelier also that Catullus did intent a Reflection upon Nonius, and made his Allusion to the Disease, as I have rendered it, because he joins Nonius the Praetor in the aforesaid Verses to Vatinius the Consul, who labouring under that Disease, was often called by his Enemy Cicero, Strumae aut Strumosi humoris. Pro Sestio, medentur civitati, qui exsecant pestem aliquam tanquam Strumam: In Vatin. Strumae denique Ebore improbo demigrârunt; and elsewhere, humidum habemas Oratorem.  Nonius the Consul, even when he was sitting in his Ivory Chair, the 
* Strumam appellat.  Botch or Impostume of the State. Dost thou not see what great Inconveniences Dignities have wrought to wicked Men? Their Deformities would less appear if they were more obscure, and could be content to be without honourable Titles. And let me now ask thee, if thou thyself (notwithstanding the Dangers which hang over thee) couldst condescend to be Colleague with 
(n) Decoratus.] This is the Person to whom Theodorick in Cassiodorus writes, Var. l. 5. Ep. 31. That he should compel some Men to pay the Money demanded of them, if he should truly find that they were Debtors, because he was an Assessor to the Master of the Offices: which however did not hinder but that he might be called nequissimus Scurra & Delator. (Scurra, because he followed great Men, and by Scoffing and Taunting did gain his Living: 
Mimum agit ille  
Vrbani qualem foecundus Scurra Catulli.  A Delator, i. e. an Informer, because he had secretly accused other Men.) Domitian did order that this sort of Men should be punished, saying, as Suetonius doth relate it, Qui delatores non castigat, invitat.  Decoratus in the Magistracy, who hath discovered himself to be a saucy Buffoon and an officious Informer? For it is not reasonable to reverence those Men who have arrived at Honours without deserving them: but if thou seest a Man endowed with Wisdom, thou couldst not but think him worthy of Reverence and Esteem, and of the Wisdom with which he is endowed.  Boet. 
No surely, for Virtue hath her proper Worth, which she transfers to those who are her Votaries. And forasmuch as Honours conferred by the People cannot make a Man worthy of them, it is clear that they do not contain the genuine Beauty of true Worth and Dignity: In this Men also ought to be wary; for if a Man be so much the more abject, by how much the more he is despised of every one; then Dignities which cannot procure Reverence or Esteem to ill Men, whom they expose to the World, do necessarily make them more the Subjects of Contempt and Scorn. Nor do Dignities themselves come off clear; for impious Persons are revenged on them, since they fully and slain the Brightness of them by their contagious Villainies. And that thou mayst know that Esteem and Reverence cannot be purchased by these transitory and empty Dignities, consider, that if a Man who hath often been Consul, and run through many other honourable Degrees of Magistracy, should perchance arrive in a barbarous Nation, would his Honours, dost thou think, make him be reverenced by those Barbarians? Further, if it were of the Nature of Dignities to make Men venerable and reverenced, it would perform that Office in all Places, amongst all Nations, and at all times; as Fire, wherever it is, never parts with its innate Quality of being hot. But because Honours do not proceed from any Power in themselves, but arise from the false Opinion of Men, they immediately vanish, when they chance to be amongst those who do not esteem them to be Dignities. But this is amongst foreign Nations. Let me then ask thee, if they always endure even with those from whom they have their Beginnings? The 
(o) Praetorship.] The Roman Praetors, as their Lawyers relate, at the Beginning were the Magistrates who proposed only the Edicts, and the Matter of which the Senate was to consult; but in process of time they obtained, by the Consent of the People, the Power of making Edicts and Laws themselves. Afterwards much of their Business was to take care of, and to exhibit, at their own Expense, the Circensian and Scenick Plays: From hence the Praetorian Dignity is here called by our Author, Inane Nomen & gravis Sarcina.  Praetorship heretofore was a great and honourable Employ, and much sought after, but now it is only an empty Name, and an heavy Addition to the Senator's Expense, who ever heretofore had the 
(p) The Praefectus annonae, or he who provided the public Corn, was heretofore so great an Officer amongst the Romans, that Augustus himself accepted of that Prefecture, and either held it so long as he lived, or but a little before his Death he did substitute C. Turrianus: but in the time of Boetius that Office was so embased, that it only had the Inspection of the Bakers and Sellers of Swine, as Cassiodorus relates, lib. 6. variar. form. 18.  Superintendency of the Markets, and was to provide Corn for the People, and had the Care of the public Victuals, and was esteemed great and honourable; but now what is there more vile and abject than that Employ? So that what I said a little before is very clear, that the thing which hath no proper innate Beauty, must necessarily sometimes be splendid and admired, and sometimes undervalved and slighted, as the Opinion of the People flows or ebbs. If Dignities therefore cannot give Men Reverence and Esteem, if they become vile by the Contagion of ill Men, if they lose their Lustre by the Change of times, if they are esteemed worthy, or otherwise according to the Estimation of Men, what Beauty then is there in them which should make them desirable, or what Dignity can they confer on others?   

METRUM iv  
Quamvis se Tyrio superbus Ostro  
Comeret & niveis Lapillis, etc.  

Nero, with Purple and with Pearl adorned,  
Was hated, and by all Men loathed and scorned;  
The Senators with 
(q) Curule.] This, as was said before, was the Chair made of Ivory, and carved, in which the Chief Magistrates were carried to the Senate-house. 
Cuilibet his fasces dabit: eripietque Curule,  
Cui volet importunus Ebur, frater, pater, add.  Hor. l. 1. Ep. 6. 
Sigua quoque in sellâ nôssem formata Curuli  
Et totum Numidae sculptile dentis opus.  Ovid. l. 4. de Pont. Ec. 9 
Praetor adest vacuoque loco cessere Curules.  Lucan. lib. 3. Nero did confer this and other Ensigns of Dignity upon those Senators whom he favoured most: and because they were disposed rather at the Will of the Emperor than upon the Consideration of Desert in those who possessed them, they are styled by our Author indecoros Curules.  Curule Chairs he graced,  
Which Gift the Giver's Luxury yet embased:  
Who then can think that true Felicity  
Resides in Honours, which we daily see  
An impious Tyrant's gaudy Donatives to be?    

PROSA V  Phil. 
CAN Kingdoms or the Familiarity of Princes make a Man mighty?  Boet. 
How can it be otherwise, since their Felicity doth always endure?  Ph. 
But mistake not, for both Antiquity and the present Times abound with Examples of Kings and Potentates who have been forced to change an happy for a calamitous Estate. And then we may justly cry out, how great and glorious a thing is Power, which is not of Ability to preserve even itself? But if Dominion and the Rule over many People be the efficient Cause of Happiness, doth not it follow, that if it be defective in any Part, it must necessarily diminish that Happiness and introduce Misery? But although humane Empires extend themselves far and wide, there must of necessity be many People over which every King can have no Command; and on whatsoever Hand this Power which constitutes Happiness shall fail, there must Impotence enter, which causes Misery. Hence therefore it is natural to aver, that Princes must have a larger Portion of Misery than of its contrary. A 
(r) A Tyrant.] He means Dionysius King of Sicily, who hath been noted by all succeeding Ages for his tyrannical Government. His History is so well known, that I need only mention here, that one Damocles flattering Dionysius, and extolling the Happiness which he thought he did enjoy in the possession of great Power and Wealth, the Tyrant attired him one Day as a King, and ordered a Royal Table and Service to be prepared for him, that he might have a Taste of that Felicity which he so much applauded: but whilst Damocles was in his Royal Robes with delicious Fare before him, Orders were given to hang a naked Sword with the Point downwards just over his Head, and only fastened by an Hair; which when Damocles perceived, he could not eat nor take any Pleasure in his Royal Attendance. By which Dionysius made him perceive that the Life of a Prince (though living in great State and Plenty) is very uncomfortable, since he is continually wrested and tormented with Cares and Fear. 
Districtus Ensis cui super impiâ  
Cervice pendet, non Siculae dapes  
Dulcem elaborabunt saporem.  
Non avium citharaeque cantus  
Somnum reducent.  Hor. l. 3: Carm. Ode 1.  certain Tyrant who well understood the Danger of his Condition, did well express the Fears and Cares which attend Government by the Terror of a naked Sword hanging over a Man's Head. What then is this thing called Power, which cannot expel Care, nor banish Fear? Men desire to live secure, but cannot; and yet they glory in and boast of their Power. Canst thou believe him to be powerful, whom thou seest not able to do what he would? or him mighty, who goes surrounded with a Guard, to terrify those of whom he himself is more afraid, and whose Power is seated in the Number of his Attendance? And now why should I trouble myself to discourse of the Favourites of Princes, when I have showed even Kingdoms themselves to be subject to so much Imbecility? especially since these gaudy things are often disgraced and ruined, as well when the Prince is fortunate as when he is unhappy. Nero would allow 
(s) Seneca.] He was a Philosopher of the Sect of the Stoics, and born at Corduba in Spain; he was Uncle to Lucan the Poet, and Tutor to the Emperor Nero, (anno Ch. 60.) who afterwards sentenced him, that he might possess his Wealth, to drink Poison, which working not its Effect with him, he ordered him to be put into an hot Bath, and his Veins to be opened, out of which the Blood flowing, he gently expired. Tacitus saith, that when one of the Centurions was sent to him to denounce the Certainty of his Death, he said, Neque aliud superesse post matrem fratremque interfectos, quam ut educatoris, praeceptorisque necem adjicere; That there was nothing now left for him to do after the Murder of his Mother and Brother, but to add that of his Teacher and Master to them.  Seneca his Friend and Tutor this only Favour, to choose the manner of his Death after he had condemned him. The Emperor 
(t) Antoninus.] He was surnamed Caracalla, and was Successor to Severus in the Roman Empire, having killed his Brother Geta. The Impiousness of which Fact he ordered Papinian to excuse or wipe off to the Senate and the People: Papinian refused to do it, saying, that Parricide was sooner committed than concealed; and that it was another kind of Parricide to accuse an innocent Person murdered: which Refusal so irritated Antoninus, that he commanded he should be killed by his Soldiers.  Antoninus exposed 
(u) Papinian.] He was a most famous Lawyer, and is said to have excelled all those who preceded and followed his time in the Knowledge of his Profession: He succeeded to Scaevola, whose Disciple he was in the Administration of the Affairs relating to the Treasury of the Emperor Severus, to whom he was related by his second Wife; and was so well esteemed by that Emperor, that when he died he left his Sons to his Care.  Papinian, who had long been great at Court, to fall by the Swords of his Soldiers. Both of them would willingly have renounced their Authority; and Seneca was willing to have given his whole Estate, and all his Riches into the Hands of Nero, and to have retired: but whilst the Force of Fate pushed them on towards their Fall, neither of them could accomplish what they desired to have done. What then is this Power, of which Men, even when they enjoy it, are afraid? of which, when they are desirous, they are not sure nor safe? and which, when they would lay it down, they cannot be acquitted of it? Are those Friends to be trusted to in time of need, whose Friendship is not founded upon Virtue, but upon thy Fortune? Believe it, they whom thy happy Estate have made so, will change when that is altered; and when thou art miserable, they will be thy Enemies. And what Plague in the World can be greater, or hurt thee more than such an Enemy who hath gained an Intimacy with thee?   

METRUM V  
Qui se volet esse potentem,  
Animos domet ille feroces, etc.  

He to his Passions Laws must give,  
Who would at Fame and Power arrive;  
He must not too himself forget,  
And to Lust's servile Yoke submit.  
Although thy Laws and Power extend  
To fruitful 
(w) India.] 'Tis so called from the River Indus, and is a vast Territory terminating Asia towards the East, although here it is taken for the East.  India's distant Land;  
Though frozen 
(x) Thule] Was the last of the Islands which the Romans had discovered, and lay the most Northerly of all towards the West; wherefore here it is taken for the West. It is generally believed to be Iceland, and depends upon the King of Denmark as King of Norway. About the End of the 9th Century it began to be frequented by the Europeans.  Thule's stubborn Brow  
Should to thy dreadful Sceptre bow;  
Yet if black Care invades thy Breast,  
If Grief and Plaints do thee molest,  
Thou neither powerful art, nor blessed.    

PROSA VI  
BUT O how deceitful oft, and how deformed is the thing called Glory! Hence not without Reason did the Tragedian exclaim; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. O Glory, Glory, there are thousands of Men who have deserved nothing, whose Lives nevertheless thou hast rendered famous! for many have surreptitiously gotten to themselves great Names by the false and mistaken Opinions of the Vulgar, than which nothing can be more mean and base: For they who are praised and applauded undeservingly, must needs, if they have any Modesty, be ashamed and blush at the Recital of their own Praises. But if Esteem and Praise be purchased by Desert, what Satisfaction yet can they add to the Mind of a wise Man, who measures not his Good by popular Rumour, but by the just Rules of Truth and Conscience? And if it seem a fair and noble thing for a Man to have made himself famous, and to have propagated his Name, then by Consequence it must be adjudged the contrary, not to have done so. But since, as I have before demonstrated, there must be many People in the Earth whom the Renown of one Man could never reach, then of necessity it must follow, that he whom thou accountest glorious, must to the greatest part of the World be inglorious and obscure. Amongst these things I do not think popular Favour to be worthy to be taken notice of, which is neither the Product of Judgement, nor ever was or can be of Duration. And now who doth not see how vain, how empty, and how uncertain Titles of Nobility are? which if referred to Renown, they are wholly foreign to it: For Nobility seems to be that Fame and Praise which proceedeth from the Merits of Ancestors. Now if Praise can give Nobility, they necessarily are noble who are praised. Then it follows thou canst derive no Splendour from the Nobility of another, if thou hast none of thine own. But if there be any Good and Advantage in Nobility, I think it is only this, that it serves to impose a kind of Necessity upon those who possess it, of not degenerating from the Virtues of their Progenitors.   

METRUM VI  
Omne hominum genus in terris  
Simili consurgit ab ortu, etc.  
The many Nations of the teeming Earth  
Do from the same Beginning spring;  
To the same fruitful Loins they own their Birth,  
They have one Father and one King:  
He to the Moon gave Horns, and gave the Ray  
To Phoebus, which adorns the welcome Day:  
His Love and Bounty gave the Earth to Men,  
These did with Stars adorn the Sky;  
He in the Body did the Soul enshrine,  
Which noble Part he sent from high.  
All Being's therefore from this Source do flow,  
Out of this Root these noble Branches grow.  
If Men consider then from whence they rise,  
Why should they boast of Pedigree?  
On God their Maker let them cast their Eyes,  
And no one can ignoble be  
But he who meanly doth to Vice submit,  
And doth his noble Origine forget.   

PROSA VII.  
WHY should I here discourse of the Pleasures of the Body, the Desire of which is full of Anxiety, and the satisfying of them, of Repentance? What dangerous Diseases, what intolerable Pains, being like-Fruits of Iniquity, do they bring to the Bodies of those who enjoy them? and what Joys are to be found in the Motions of them, I confess I know not. But this I know, that whoever will call to mind his Luxury and Lusts, shall find much Bitterness in the Issue of them. If these things can make Men happy, I see no Cause why Beasts also may not be said to be in a possibility of obtaining Happiness, since by their Instinct they are urged to intent and pursue bodily Delights. The Satisfaction of having a Wife and Children were great, but it hath been said, though against Nature, that some in their Children have found Tormentors: How biting and uneasy the Condition of such is, it is not necessary to tell thee, who hast before this tried it, and who art now under so great a Discomposure. In this I approve the Opinion of 
(y) Euripides.] Though he was a Poet, yet he was also a Philosopher, and Disciple to Anaxagoras, and in his Andromache he hath the Expression which our Author quotes above.  Euripides, who said, that he who hath no Children is happy in his Misfortune.   

METRUM VII.  
Habet omnis hoc voluptas,  
Stimulis agit fruentes, etc.  
Those who do Pleasures court, must find  
That they will leave a Pain behind:  
And as the busy Bee  
Away doth fly when she  
Hath Honey given; so they  
Will with no Person stay;  
And like that angry Insect so  
They sorely wound th' Enjoyer too.   

PROSA VIII.  
FROM what I have said than it may without doubt appear, that all these mentioned Ways are wrong and deceitful, and cannot lead Men to that Happiness which they promise: And with how many Evils and Inconveniences they are perplexed, I shall soon show thee. Consider then thus; Hast thou a mind to amass Wealth? then thou must bereave the Possessor of it. Wouldst thou shine in Dignities and Titles? thou must supplicate him who is the Fountain of them, and who only can confer them; and so thou who desirest to outgo others in Honour, shall by meanly ask it become contemptible. Dost thou affect Power? thou wilt expose thyself to Danger, by subjecting thyself to the Traps and Snares of those who are under thee. Art thou desirous of Glory? being distracted by sharp and severe Dispensations, thou shalt forgo thy Security and Quiet. Wouldst thou lead a voluptuous Life? think then that all Men will scorn and contemn him who is a Slave to that vile and frail thing, his Body. And now upon how weak a Foundation do they build, upon how uncertain a Possession do they rely, who value and affect corporal Delights? Canst thou surpass the Elephant in Bulk, or the Ox in Strength? Canst thou excel the Tigers in Swiftness? Behold the vast Space and Extension of the Heavens, their Firmness, and the Swiftness of their Motions, and then at length cease to admire vile or less things. Nor is the Heaven more to be admired for these Qualities mentioned, than for those exact Orders and Methods by which it is governed. How fleeting, and of how short Duration is Beauty and Exactness of Feature, how swiftly it passeth, fading sooner than a vernal Flower! For as Aristotle saith, if a Man had the Eyes of a 
(z) A Lynx.] It is a Proverb now to see with the Eyes of a Lynx, which did arise thus; Lynceus is said to have been the first who found out Mines of Brass, of Silver, and of Gold: from hence it was fabled that he was so sharp-sighted, that he could with his Eyes pierce through the Earth, and see what was done in Hell. 
Non possis oculo quantum contendere Lynceus,  
Non tamen idcirco contemnas Lippus inungi.  Horat. Epist. l. 1. Ep. 1.  Lynx, that so he might pierce through every Medium which should oppose him, would not he, if he looked into the inward Recesses of the Body of 
(a) Alcibiades.] He was General of the Athenians, one of great Endowments, and very beautiful: At first his Life was very vicious, but afterwards, by the Instructions and Persuasions of Socrates, he changed his Manners and became virtuous.  Alcibiades, whose outward Form was so fair and charming, find it noisome and foul? And therefore thy Nature doth not make thee appear beautiful, but the Infirmity of the Eyes of thy Beholders. Esteem bodily Goods as much as thou wilt, but consider, that what thou so much admirest may in three Days be shaken and dissolved by the raging Fires of a Fever. From all which we may gather this, that those things which cannot confer those Goods which they promise, nor are perfect and consummate by a general Meeting of all Goods in themselves, can neither always conduct to Happiness, nor by themselves make any one happy.   

METRUM VIII.  
Eheu quae miseros tramite devios  
Abducit ignorantia, etc.  

Alas! what Ignorance doth blindly lead  
Poor Mortals from the noble Paths of Good!  
And doth with vain Imaginations feed  
Their Minds of that which is not understood!  
Upon the bearing Tree we find not Gold,  
Nor will the Vine a Diamond afford;  
Who would his Nets upon the Hills unfold,  
Hoping with Fish so to supply his Board?  
The early Hunter who designs to chase  
The Royal Hart, or the swift-footed Roe,  
To the wide Forest will himself address,  
And will not to the 
(b) Tyrrhene.] The Tyrrhene Sea is that part of the Mediterranean Sea which washeth the Southern Coast of Italy, as the Adriatic doth the Northern. 
Gens inimica mihi Tyrrhenum navigat aequor.  Virgil. Aeneid. l. 1.  Tyrrhene Waters go.  
Some Men the Sea's profoundest Bottom sound,  
And do the Closets of the Deep descry,  
Can tell where the most Orient Pearls are found,  
And where that Fish which yields the Purple Die.  
They know the Shores which most frequented are  
By all the tenderest of the scaly Fry,  
They can describe the Coast exactly where  
The fierce 
(c) Sea-Vrchine.] It is a Fish covered with a Shell, and said to be of a fierce Nature; and, as Aristotle witnesseth, was often eaten by the Ancients. 
Sed non omne mare est generosae fertile testae,  
Murice Bajano melior Lucrina Peloris:  
Ostrea Circaeis, Miseno oriuntur Echini;  
Pectinibus patulis jactat se molle Tarentum.  Horat. satire. l. 2. Sat. 4.  Sea-Vrchine and his young ones lie.  
Yet they, because the sovereign Good lies hid,  
Are idly willing ever to be blind;  
And what above the Pole conceals its Head  
They vainly think upon the Earth to find.  
What Wish can to their Folly equal be?  
Honours and Riches may such Men pursue,  
And these false Goods obtained, then may they see,  
Too late the Worth and Value of the true.    

PROSA IX.  
LET it suffice that I have hitherto described the Form of counterfeit Happiness: So that if thou considerest well, my Method will lead me to give to thee a perfect Draught of the true.  Boet. 
I now see plainly that Men cannot arrive at a full Satisfaction by Riches, nor at Power by enjoying Principalities or Kingdoms, nor at Esteem and Reverence by the Accession of Dignities, nor at Nobility by Glory, nor at true Joy by carnal Pleasures.  Ph. 
Thou sayest well, but knowest thou the Causes of all these?  Bo. 
I perceive them by the small Light I can afford to myself, but I should be very glad to know them more fully from thee.  Ph. 
The Reason is most obvious, for humane Error doth separate and divide that which is simple, and by Nature indivisible, and doth transport it from that which is true and perfect to their contrary. Let me ask thee, can that, dost thou think, which needeth nothing want Power?  Bo. 
No, I am not of that Opinion.  Ph. 
Thou thinkest right indeed; for if there be any thing which, upon any occasion of Performance, doth show a Weakness or want of Power, it must, as to that, necessarily need foreign Aid.  Bo. 
So it is.  Ph. 
And therefore Sufficiency and Power are of one Nature.  Bo. 
So it truly seems.  Ph. 
And thinkest thou that things of this kind are to be undervalved and contemned, or rather to be reverenced of all?  Bo. 
They are doubtless worthy of Reverence.  Ph. 
Let us then add to Sufficiency and Power Reverence, and so then judge of these three as one.  Bo. 
Let us join them then, because the Truth must be confessed.  Ph. 
What dost thou think then? Is that an obscure and ignoble thing which is graced with these three great Attributes of Self-sufficiency, Power and Reverence, or otherways is it noble and worthy of Fame? Consider then, as we have granted before, that he who wants Gifts of Fortune; who is most powerful, and most worthy of Renown, if he, I say, want Fame, which he cannot give to himself, he may on that hand, in some measure, seem more weak and abject.  Bo. 
I cannot indeed deny it, but aver as it is, that Renown attends the aforesaid things.  Ph. 
Then by consequence Renown differs nothing from the three abovementioned Attributes.  Bo. 
I grant it.  Ph. 
Must not then that thing which wants not the Help of another, which can by its own Strength perform every thing which is famous and reverend, of necessity be joyful also, and always pleasant?  Bo. 
I cannot indeed well comprehend how any Grief or Trouble can possess the Breast of one in those Circumstances.  Ph. 
Then we may well grant that such are always in a State of Joy, if what I have said be true. And then may we also grant Self-sufficiency, Power, Nobility, Reverence and Pleasure, do differ only in Name, but not in Essence or Substance.  Bo. 
It is necessarily so.  Ph. 
Then therefore that which is one simple Nature is torn violently asunder by the Pravity of Men; and whilst they endeavour for a part of a thing which wants Parts, they neither get that Part, nor the entire thing which they so much desire.  Bo. 
How can that be?  Ph. 
Why thus; He who in amassing Riches proposeth only to himself the end of avoiding Poverty, is no way solicitous to obtain Power; he had rather be unknown and obscure, and chooseth rather to withdraw from himself many natural Pleasures, than run the hazard of losing that Money which he hath gathered. But surely such an one by this means doth not purchase Self-sufficiency, when he loseth Power, when he is pricked with Trouble, when his sordid Ways make him be looked upon as an Out-cast, when he is hidden in Obscurity. If we come to the Person who only aims at Power, he squanders away Riches, he despiseth Pleasures, he slights Honour which is not accompanied with Power, and contemns Glory. So then thou seest how many things that Man wanteth. For often he must stand in need of Necessaries, he must be subject to great Anxieties; and when he cannot drive away these things, he shows clearly his want of that which he did most affect, I mean Power. One may also reason thus of Honours, of Glory, and of Pleasures. For whilst every one of these is the same with the rest, whoever endeavours to obtain any of these without the other, loseth that which he desireth.  Bo. 
What then if a Man should desire to gain all these things together?  Ph. 
I would then say, that he hath a mind to arrive at the sovereign Good; but can it be thought that it shall ever be found in these Acquisitions, which I have showed already, not to be able to perform any thing they promise?  Bo. 
No surely.  Ph. 
In these things therefore which are believed able to satisfy our Desires, we must by no means seek for Happiness.  Bo. 
I confess it, and nothing can be said more truly than this.  Ph. 
Thou hast now then the Form and Causes of that adulterate sophisticate Felicity: now turn again the Eyes of thy Consideration upon the contrary Prospect, and thou shalt soon comprehend that true and genuine Happiness which I so long have promised thee.  Bo. 
That a blind Man may see, and who runs may read it, for thou show'dst it to me before, when thou didst endeavour to open to me the Causes of its Counterfeit: for if I be not mistaken, that is the true consummate Felicity which makes a Man self-sufficient, powerful, reverenced, noble and pleasant. And that thou mayst know that thy Say have sunk deep into my Understanding, I say, I know that that which one of these (for they are all one) can truly perform is, without doubt, the chief Good and true Happiness.  Ph. 
O my Pupil, thou art most happy in this Opinion, provided thou wilt add this to it, which I shall offer to thee.  Bo. 
What is that?  Ph. 
Thinkest thou that any thing on this side Heaven can confer that Good of which thou speakest.  Bo. 
I think not indeed; and thou hast already showed me, that nothing can be desired beyond such a State of Perfection.  Ph. 
These things than  either confer the Likeness of the true Good, or else they seem to give me some imperfect Good; but the true and perfect one this can by no means afford.  Bo. 
I agree with you.  Ph. 
Seeing then thou knowest already which is the true Happiness, and which the false one, it remains thou shouldst be informed from what Fountain to derive that true one.  Bo. 
That I indeed expect with much Impatience.  Ph. 
But as Plato says in his 
(d) Timaeus.] Timaeus amongst his Verses mentions this Precept of Pythagoras: 
— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
— Finem dein ant precatus  
Numina, opus facito.  Pythag. in aur. Carm. From whence Plato saith in his Book which he nameth Timaeus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 That every one who hath but the lea●●… more of a good Mind and Inclination when he beginneth any thing, be it great or small, is always wont to call upon God.  Timaeus, that even in the least things the Divine Assistance ought to be implored, what dost thou think is fit to be done, that we may deserve to find the true Source and Seat of the sovereign Good?  Bo. 
I think we ought to invoke the Father and Governor of all things, for without such an Invocation no Work is well begun.  Ph. 
Thou sayest right. And then she warbled out this Divine Orison.   

METRUM IX.  O qui perpetua mundum ratione gubernas, etc. 

O thou who with perpetual Reason rul'st  
The World, great Maker of the Heaven and Earth!  
Who dost 
(e) From Ages.] Philosophy makes a difference betwixt Eternity, Age, and Time, which are several kinds of Duration. Eternity belongs to that Being which was without a Beginning, and will be without an End, as God. An Age or Aevum is of that thing which is indeed without an End, but not without a Beginning, viz. of a created thing, such as is the Mind and Body, of which there is no other than an exterior Cause; for those being created by God, shall endure for ever. Time is of that thing which is neither without Beginning nor without End, as of a Corporeal Form, such as is the Form of a Beast, the Form of a Plant, and the Form of inanimate Bodies.  from Ages make swift Time proceed,  
And fixed thyself, makest all things else to move!  
Whom 
(f) Exterior.] Philosophy usually assigneth four Causes, viz. the Final, the Efficient, the Material, and the Formal; the two former are called Exterior, the two latter Interiour Causes. The Bodies which they call Physical or Natural, such as are the Heaven and the Earth, have both interior and exterior Causes; and created Minds have not interior but only exterior ones. But God hath neither interior nor exterior Causes; therefore he could not be compelled to create this World either by a final or an efficient Cause.  exterior Causes did not force to frame  
This Work of 
(g) Floating Matter.] The word is rightly called Matter, because it is a thing extended every way, as Matter is. It is well also called fluitous or floating, since the Heaven, the Earth, and all other Bodies of which the World consists, are perpetually moved, if not in all, yet in most of their Parts.  floating Matter, but the Form  
Of sovereign Good, 
(h) Above black Envy.] God is rightly said here, livore career, because being not forced to create the World by any external Cause, but by the Form of the chief Good which was fixed in his Mind, that is, by his Will and his infinite Wisdom. Livor in our Author means no other than Envy, and God is rightly said to want Envy, having no Being which he can envy, himself being the chief Good by whom and for whom the World was made; and there can be nothing better than the chief Good.  above black Envy placed,  
Within thy Breast: thou every thing dost draw  
From the supreme Example; fairest thyself,  
Bearing the World's Figure in thy Mind,  
Thou formedst this after that Prototype,  
And didst command it should have perfect Parts.  
Thou by harmonious Measures fast dost bind  
The Elements, that cold things may with hot,  
And moist with dry agree, lest subtle Fire  
Should fly too high, or Weight should press the Earth  
And Water lower than they now are placed.  
Thou dost the 
(i) The Middle Soul.] Here our Philosopher meaneth the Spirit or Soul of the Universe, which was born with the Law of Nature, after the Production of the Elements of the World. It is rightly also by our Author called, 1. Anima. 2. Triplicis naturae media. 3. Cuncta movere. 4. A Deo connecti. 5. Per consona membra resolvi. 6. Secta circuire. First this Universal Spirit or Soul is acknowledged not only by the sacred Authors, but also by the profane, as Plato, Aristotle, and many others. 
Principio coelum & terras camposque liquentes,  
Lucentemque globum Lunae, Titaniaque astra  
Spiritus intus alit: totamque infusa per artus  
Mens agitat molem; & magno se corpore miscet.  
Ind hominum pecudumque genus, vitaeque volantum,  
Et quae marmoreo fert monstra sub aequore pontus.  
Igneus est ollis vigour & coelestis origo  
Seminibus: quantum non noxia corpora tardant,  
Terrenique hebetant artus, moribundaque membra.  
Hinc metaunt, cupiuntque, dolent, gaudentque: nec auras  
Respiciunt, clausae tenebris & carcere caeco.  Virgil. Aeneid. l. 6. v. 724. Secondly, this Soul is said to be of a threefold Nature; not that it consists of three Elements, as some think, but because it is one, and the middle one also, of three things, which by our natural Light we can know and distinguish; to wit, it is placed betwixt the Mind, which we cannot perceive by our Senses, and the Body which we may. Thirdly, it is said, cuncta movere, not because all Bodies are moved by this Spirit or Soul; for many are solid, whose Parts do therefore rest and are quiet; but because no Bodies may be moved unless this do move. Fourthly, it is said, a Deo connecti, because as no Body doth move but by Touch or Contact, so this Soul or Spirit of the World cannot move unless it be connected with the Body to be moved; but it was connected by God, by whom, when it was first made, it was moved by those Laws of Nature which God himself did constitute. Fifthly, it is said, per consona membra resolvi, because this anima mundi is a most liquid Body, whose Parts, as they are moved and resolved into divers Places, so they enter the different Members of the informed Body. But these Members are agreeing as amongst themselves, so with this Soul or Spirit, by which they are to be moved; so that the lesser Members have Motion first from the Soul, than the greater from the lesser Members, and also from the Soul. Lastly, it is said, secta circuire, because joining its End to the Beginning of its Motion, it may seem to form that Motion into a round: And it is cut or divided, because it being liquid, as Water or Air, it is a Mass or Congeries of several little Bodies, which, as they are moved, are separated one from the other. This Soul is said to circulate through the Body in which it doth reside, because every Body, unless it be resisted, continueth its Motion: So the Sap of a Tree doth rather choose to ascend to the Top of it, than to press itself through the Bark: and it is easier for this Spirit or Soul to circulate in its Body, than to go out of it, several Bodies being ready every where to resist it.  Middle Soul firmly connect  
Of th' threefold Nature, which each thing doth move,  
Then by agreeing Numbers it resolv'st;  
When that is done, and cut into two Orbs,  
It moves about returning to itself,  
And then encompassing the Mind profound,  
Doth by that fair Idea turn the Heaven.  
Thou by such Causes dost produce all Souls  
And 
(k) All Souls and lesser Lives.] Our Philosopher meaneth by this humane Souls, and those also of vegetative and sensitive Creatures; and he giveth to them the Epithet of Minores, because they are included in lesser Vehicles or Machine's; putting this Difference however between Man and other Creatures, that there is in him, besides this corporeal Spirit which is subservient to principal Form, a Mind which hath the Faculty of thinking: from whence it is that this corporeal Spirit loseth in a Man its Name and Dignity, and therefore it may be said that in a Man there is only one Soul, and that endowed with Reason. 
Esse apibus partem divinae mentis, & haustus  
Aetherios dixêre: Deum namque ire per omnes  
Terrasque, tractusque maris, coelumque profundum.  
Hinc pecudes, armenta, viros, genus omne ferarum,  
Quemque sibi tenues nascentem arcessere vitas.  Virg. l 4. Georg. v. 220.  lesser Lives, thou makest them to be fit  
To their light Vehicles, and them dost sow  
In Heaven and Earth: they then again to thee  
By a kind Law, and Ordinance benign,  
Like a recoiling Flame gladly revert.  
O Father, let our Minds ascend on high,  
And view thy Throne august! let them behold  
The Fountain of all Good; and when we have  
Found the true Light, may our Minds, Eyes on thee,  
The noblest Object, be for ever fixed!  
Dispel the Mists, remove the mighty Bulk  
Of Earth-bred-weight, and in thy Splendour shine,  
For thou art ever clear! thou to the Good  
Art Peace and Rest; whoever seethe thee,  
Seas End, Beginning, Bearer, Leader, Path, in one!    

PROSA X.  
NOW that thou hast had the Character of the true, and also of the false Felicity truly represented to thee, I think it time to show thee in what the Perfection of Happiness is placed. And whilst we are in quest of this, I think our best Method will be to examine, whether there can in Nature be such a Good as that which thou hast before defined, lest the Vanity of Imagination, and Heat of Thought, should deceive us, and carry us beyond the Truth of the Matter subjected to our Inquiry. But that such a thing doth exist, and that it is as it were the Fountain of all Good, cannot be denied; for every thing which is said to be imperfect is proved to be so by the Diminution of that which is perfect. Hence it is that if any thing in any kind be said to be imperfect, it is presently understood that in it there is also something perfect. For if Perfection be taken away, no Man can tell in what that which is said to be imperfect can exist. For Nature doth not derive her Origine from things diminished and inconsummate, but proceeding from an entire and absolute Substance, she extends herself in the remotest and most fruitless Being's. So that if, as before I have demonstrated, there be a certain imperfect Felicity, a fading Good, there must also be, without doubt, a solid and perfect one. It is most logically and truly concluded (said I). But where this doth reside (continued she) thus consider; That God the Governor of all things is good, is proved by the universal Opinion of all Men. For since nothing can be found out which is better than God, who will deny Him to be good, than whom nothing can be better? Reason then doth so clearly demonstrate that God is good, that at the same time it evinceth the sovereign Good to be in him. For if it were not so, he could not be the Ruler of all things; for there would be some Being excelling him, which would possess the perfect Good, and in this World seem to excel him, and be ancienter than he. We have already shown that all perfect things excel those which are less perfect. Wherefore that we may not infinitely produce our Reasons, it must be confessed that the great God is full of the greatest and most perfect Goodness. But we have already shown that perfect Goodness is true Happiness. Therefore it necessarily follows that true and consummate Happiness resides only in the great and most perfect God. This (returned I) I apprehend aright, nor can I by any means say against it. Then I pray thee (saith she) see how well and irrefragably thou canst prove what I have said, to wit, that God is wholly replenished with the sovereign Good. How shall I do that? (replied I). Dost thou presume (said she) that the Father of all things hath received this sovereign Good, with which he is proved to abound, from any thing without himself, or that he hath it so naturally that thou shouldst imagine that He possessing it, and Happiness possessed, are of different Substances? If thou dost think that he received it from any foreign Hand, thou must imagine the Giver to be more excellent than the Receiver. But that God is the most excellent of all Being's, most worthily we confess, if we own then that the sovereign Good is in him by Nature; and yet we may conceive that it is not the same that he is, since we speak of God, who is the Prince of Nature, let him who can find out who it was that joined these so differing things. Lastly, whatever doth essentially differ from any thing, it cannot be said to be that from which it is understood to differ. Therefore that which is in its Nature differing from the chief Good, cannot be said to be the Good itself: which to think of God would be most impious and profane, since nothing can excel him in Goodness and Worth. Nothing that ever was can in its Nature be better than that from which it draweth its Beginnings. Wherefore that which is the Principle of all things must, as to its Substance, with the truest reason be concluded to be the chief of Goods.  Boet. 
Most right.  Phil. 
But Happiness was before granted to be the chief of Goods.  Bo. 
So it was.  Ph. 
Therefore it must necessarily be confessed that God is the very Happiness.  Bo. 
I cannot oppose the Reasons you have given, and I confess you have drawn a very right Conclusion from your Premises.  Ph. 
Look then a little further, and see if this Truth can be proved more firmly thus, to wit, that there cannot be two sovereign Goods which differ in themselves: For it is clear, that of the Goods which differ, one cannot be what the other is; wherefore neither can be perfect when one wants the other. But it is evident, that that which is not perfect cannot be sovereign; therefore those which are the chief Goods can by no means be divers in their Natures. But I have rightly concluded that Good and Happiness are the chief Good: wherefore the highest Divinity must certainly be the highest Happiness.  Bo. 
Nothing can be truer than this; nothing by the Course of Reasoning more firm; nor can any Conclusion be made more becoming of the Divine Majesty.  Ph. 
Upon the whole Matter then, as Geometricians, after they have demonstrated their Propositions, are wont to infer and draw their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or Consequences, in the same manner shall I deduce to thee something like a Corollary, thus: Because by the attaining of Beatitude Men are happy, and Beatitude is Divinity itself, by the attaining of Divinity it is manifest that Men are made happy. But as from men's being endowed with the Virtue of Justice, they are denominated Just; and from that of Prudence they are pronounced Wise, so should they who are possessed of Divinity by parity of reason be esteemed Gods. Every happy Man than is a God; but by Nature there is only One, yet by suffering others to participate of the Divine Essence nothing hinders but there may be Many.  Bo. 
This truly is a very fair and most precious, call it Deduction or Corollary, which you please.  Ph. 
But there can be nothing nobler than that which Reason commands us to subjoin to this.  Bo. 
What is that?  Ph. 
It is this, Since Happiness seems to comprehend in it many things, to consider whether they all, by the Variety of Parts conjoined, do constitute the Body of Happiness; or whether there may be any one amongst them which may complete the Substance of it, and to which all the rest may be referred.  Bo. 
I could wish that thou wouldst open these things to me by recounting them.  Ph. 
Do not we account Happiness a Good?  Bo. 
Yes certainly, and the chiefest.  Ph. 
Add then that Good to all the aforesaid things, for that Happiness which is Self-sufficiency is also the Height of Power, of Reverence, of Nobility, of Pleasure. What sayest thou then, are all these things, as Self-sufficiency, Power, and the rest, Members and constituting Parts of Happiness; or are they, as all other things are, to be referred to the Sovereign Good as their Source and Principle?  Bo. 
I well understand what thou dost aim to search for, but I desire to hear what thou dost propose.  Ph. 
Observe then the thing thus sifted and distinguished upon. If all these things were Members of Happiness, they would differ amongst themselves; for it is of the Nature of differing Parts to compose one Body: But it is already demonstrated that all things are the same, therefore they are not Parts; for if so, even out of one of them Happiness might be composed, which is absurd.  Bo. 
This I doubt not; but I desire to hear that which remains.  Ph. 
It is clear that all other things are brought to be tried by Good as the Rule and Square: For Self-sufficiency is therefore desired, because it is thought to be Good: So also it may be said of Power, Esteem, Nobility, Pleasure. Good then is the Cause why all things are desired; for that which neither in Reality nor Show doth retain any thing of Good, is by no means to be desired: On the contrary, whatever by Nature is not good, if yet it seems to be so, is desired as if it really were so. Hence it is that Goodness, justly looked upon, is the Cause, the Sum, the Hinge from which all our Desires arise, in which they centre, and upon which they turn. That which is the Cause of our desiring any thing, seems itself most to be desired. For if any Man desires to ride abroad because of his Health, he doth not so much desire the Motion of Riding as the Effect of his Health. Since therefore all things are sought after for the sake of Good, they cannot be more desirable than Good itself. But we have before shown that it is Happiness for which all these abovesaid things are desired, where it is clear that only Happiness is sought for. He then who considers this cannot deny that Good and Happiness are of one and the same Substance.  Bo. 
I see no Cause why any Man should descent from your Opinion.  Ph. 
And we have showed that God and Happiness are inseparably joined in Essence.  Bo. 
You have so done.  Ph. 
We may then securely conclude that the Nature and Substance of God resides in Good, and can be sought for no whe●e else.   

METRUM X.  
Huc omnes pariter venite capti,  
Quos fallax ligat improbis catenis  
Terrenas habitans libido mentes, etc.  

Come hither all! O come to me,  
Whom in her impious Chains  
Imperious Lust detains,  
Which in an earthly Mind affects to be.  
Here Ease from Labours you shall find;  
This is the Port of Rest,  
Which Storms cannot molest;  
Here's Refuge for the sickest Mind.  
Whatever Tagus golden Sand,  
Or 
(l) Hermus.] It is a River of the Lesser Asia, called now le Sarabat: It hath its Source in Phrygia the greater, and taking its Course Westward, and being increased by several Rivers, amongst the rest Pactolus, it enters into the Aegean Sea by the Bay of Smyrna, and is said to have Golden Sands. 
Nec pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Hermus.  Virgil. Georg. l. 1. v. 151.  Hermus in his yellow way,  
Can to the World convey,  
Or India with its warmer Hand,  
Which Diamonds yields, and Pearls both,  
Can never clear the Mind,  
But rather doth it blind;  
And in thick Darkness doth it cloth.  
That which doth raise our Thoughts so high,  
The mighty shining Bait,  
Which so doth captivate,  
Doth in Earth's lowest Caverns lie.  
But the gay Light which Heaven doth rule,  
From which its Force it hath,  
Doth in no obscure Path,  
But by clear Light conduct the Soul.  
He then who sees that Source of Light,  
And will it comprehend,  
Compared to it, he'll find  
That the Sun's Rays are wrapped in Night.    

PROSA XI.  Boet. 
I Assent, and am overcome by the Strength of thy Reasons.  Phil. 
At how great a rate wouldst thou value this Good, if thou didst rightly know it?  Bo. 
At an infinite rate; if at the same time I might attain to the Knowledge of God, who is the true Good.  Ph. 
That thou shalt do so, I shall make clear to thee by undeniable Reasons, if thou wilt but grant me those things which a little before I have laid down as Conclusions.  Bo. 
I grant them all.  Ph. 
Have not I made it clear that those things which are desired by most are not therefore true and perfect Goods, because they differ amongst themselves; and that when one is absent, the other cannot confer absolute Happiness? And then that they are the perfect Good when they are moulded up into one Form, that is to say, when Self-sufficiency, Power, Veneration, Renown and Pleasure collectively meet. For if they be not one and the same thing, they have nothing to recommend them, or to make them to be numbered amongst desirable things?  Bo. 
I grant thou hast demonstrated these things, nor can they by any means be doubted of.  Ph. 
These things then when they are distinct not being Goods, and when they meet immediately being made Goods, do not they own their Being's of Good to Unity?  Bo. 
So it seems to me.  Ph. 
But wilt thou yield that every thing which is good, is so by the Participation of the sovereign Good, or not?  Bo. 
It is certainly so.  Ph. 
Thou must then by the same Reason acknowledge Unity and Good to be the same thing: for the Substance of those things must be the same, whose Effects do not naturally differ.  Bo. 
I cannot deny it.  Ph. 
Knowest thou then that every Being doth so long endure and subsist as it is entire and knit together by Unity; but that as soon as it loses that Bond it is dissolved, and Privation follows?  Bo. 
How dost thou make out that?  Ph. 
Thus; As in Animals or sensitive Creatures it is plain, the Soul and Body being united and continuing together, the Being then is called Animal, a living Creature: but so soon as this Unity is dissolved by the Separation of these, it immediately perisheth, ceasing to be what it was before. The Body also itself, which whilst it remains in one Form by the Conjunction of its Members, retains the Form and Resemblance of a Man; but if by dissevering and segregating the Parts that Oneness is distracted, it is no more what before it was. In the same manner, if we run through all other Being's, it will surely appear, that every thing, as long as it preserveth Unity doth subsist; and if that dies, the other must also die with it.  Bo. 
Though I consider never so long, yet I can see no other thing.  Ph. 
Is there then any thing, which inasmuch as it lives naturally, doth forgo its Desire of Subsisting, and affect Corruption and Annihilation?  Bo. 
If I consider those living Creatures which have any Power of willing or refusing, I do not in Nature find any thing, which without some foreign Impulse, or the Concurrence of outward Accidents, doth cast away its Intention and Desire of subsisting, and willingly hasten to Destruction; for every Animal is endowed with that great Principle of Self-preservation, and pursues it, and doth eschew Mischief and Death. But if I, casting an Eye upon the Vegetative World, consider Herbs and Trees, and other inanimate things, I confess I am under a doubt, and know not well what to think of them.  Ph. 
But even of these there is no Cause that thou shouldst doubt; for behold Herbs and Trees first choose a convenient Place to grow in, where their Nature, as much as it can, hinders them from withering and perishing soon; for some spring in the Fields, others upon Mountains, others rise in Lakes and Marshes, others put forth amongst the Stones; some choose the most barren Sands for the Place of their Birth; and all these, if any Hand should endeavour to transplant them to any other place, would forthwith whither. But Nature gives to every thing that which is agreeable to, and convenient for them, and endeavours that they should not perish before their time. Dost thou not know that all Herbs and Trees, as if their Mouths were fastened downward in the Earth, do draw up their Nourishment by the Root, and diffuse their Strength and Bark as through their Marrow? And also that the softest and most tender Matter, as the Pith or Marrow is, is always laid up in the most inward Cabinet, and covered by a strong Coat of Wood; and the uppermost Garment of Bark is opposed to the Storms and Weather, as being fitted best to endure them? And canst thou not here behold and admire the Diligence and Care of Nature, which propagates all things by a Multiplicity of Seeds, which all Men know are as a Foundation for a Building not to remain for a time, but as if it were for ever? And even those things which are thought to be inanimate, do not they by the same Reason desire that which properly belongs to them, and to preserve their Being's? For why should Levity carry the Flames upward, and Gravity make the Earth tend downwards towards its Centre, but that these Places and Motions agree with their several Bodies? Furthermore, whatsoever is agreeable to the Nature of any thing, that preserves that thing, as that which hath an Abhorrency from it corrupts and destroys it. Now that which is hard, as a Stone, doth most tenaciously adhere together in all its Parts, and resists an easy Dissolution; but what things are liquid or flowing, as Air and Water, yield easily to those who would separate them, but soon again return and slide back to those things from which they were divided: but Fire doth utterly refuse any such Division. And now I do not treat of the voluntary Motions of a knowing and discerning Soul, but of natural Intention and Instinct. Thus we swallow our Meat without thinking of it, and draw our Breath in our Sleep without perceiving it: For the Love of Life is not derived to living Creatures from the Inclinations and Bend of their Souls, but only from the Principles of Nature; for the Will, often pushed on by urgent Causes, affects and embraces that Death which Nature fears and abhors: And on the contrary, we see that the Works of Generation, by which alone the Race of Men is propagated, and which Nature always affects, often restrained by the Will. Therefore this Love which every thing beareth to itself, doth not proceed from the Motions of the Soul, but from the Intentions of Nature: For Providence hath given to all things created by it, this greatest Cause and Principle of Duration, to wit, a Desire of existing as long as it can. Therefore doubt not but every Being hath a natural Appetite towards Living, and an Abhorrence of Dissolution.  Bo. 
I now confess that plainly, and without doubting, I see those things which before seemed uncertain to me.  Ph. 
I go on then; Whatever doth desire to subsist and endure, doth also desire Unity; for if this be taken away, its Essence is dissolved.  Bo. 
That is most true.  Ph. 
Then all things desire one thing.  Bo. 
I assent.  Ph. 
But I have before demonstrated that that one thing must be that which is good.  Bo. 
You have so.  Ph. 
All things therefore desire Good; which Good you may describe to be that which is desired of all.  Bo. 
Nothing is truer: For either all things must be reduced to nothing, and so being destitute of an Head, float and rove about without Governance and Order; or if there be any thing to which all things do tend, that must be the chief of all Goods.  Ph. 
I rejoice but too much, O my Pupil; for thou hast fixed in thy Mind the very middle and manifest Note of Truth: but this thing hath been discovered to thee, because a little before thou saidst thou wert ignorant of it.  Bo. 
What is that?  Ph. 
Thou didst not know what was the End of all things: And this is it which every one desires. And because we have from our former Arguments gathered, that Good is that which is the Subject of all men's Desires, we must necessarily confess that Good is the End of all things.   

METRUM XI.  
Quisquis profunda ment vestigat verum,  
Cupitque nullis ille deviis falli, etc.  
Who into Truth doth deep Researches make,  
And would not in his Quest his way mistake,  
Let him into himself revolve his Eye,  
Collect his Thoughts, each Property espy  
Of Being's; let him too instruct his Mind,  
That what she seeks without she in herself may find:  
Then that which cloudy Error did o'er spread,  
Will, like the Sun, exalt its radiant Head.  
For when Oblivion did the Mind invade,  
It did not wholly Light exterminate.  
The generous Seeds of Truth lie close beneath,  
And rise when Learning's gentle Zephyrs breath;  
Else how could Truth in thy Discourse appear,  
Unless its hidden Principles lay there?  
So if what 
(m) Plato in his Phaedo toucheth upon 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or Reminiscence. It is said there that Socrates had frequently this Saying in his Mouth, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; that is, that to learn is no other thing than to remember what had been forgotten before.  Plato's Muse did sing is true,  
To learn is but Remembrance to renew.   

PROSA XII.  Boet. 
I Now very much assent to Plato, since this second time thou hast brought these things to my remembrance. At first when my Memory was drowned by the contagious Conjunction of my Body with my Soul, and then when I afterwards lost it in those Pressures of Sorrow under which I laboured.  Ph. 
If thou wilt a little recollect what thou hast granted above, thou wilt not be far from remembering that thing of which a little before thou didst confess thy Ignorance.  Bo. 
What thing was that?  Ph. 
It was, by what Power the Universe is governed.  Bo. 
I confess I did in that own my want of Knowledge; but although I have a Prospect of what thou wilt infer, yet I desire to hear it made more plain from thy Mouth.  Ph. 
A little time before thou didst think that there was no Reason to doubt but that this World was governed by God.  Bo. 
Nor do I think otherwise now, nor shall I ever think that it ought to be doubted; and I will briefly recount to you the Reasons which lead me to this Opinion. The differing and contrariant Parts of which this World is composed, had never been brought together into one beautiful Form, without the Assistance of a powerful Hand to join them: And even after such a Conjunction the disagreeing Qualities of their Natures had dissociated the Parts, and ruined the Fabric, if the same conjoining Hand had not kept them together: For the Order and Methods of Nature could not so certainly proceed, nor produce so regular Motions, disposed and limited according to Times, Places, Actings, Spaces, and Qualities, unless there were one remaining, fixed and immovable Being to mesnage so great Varieties of Change. I give this excellent Being, whatever it is, by which all things created endure, and are actuated and informed, the known Denomination of God.  Ph. 
Seeing that thou hast so right a Sentiment of these things, there is but little more to be done now that thou mayst once more be happy and safe, and that thou mayst revisit thy own Country: But let us reflect a little upon what we have before proposed. Have not we agreed that Sufficiency is of the Nature of true Happiness? And have we not granted that God is that true Happiness?  Bo. 
We have.  Ph. 
And that towards the Government of this World he shall need no Helps or foreign Instruments? for if he should, he should not then be self-sufficient.  Bo. 
That necessarily follows.  Ph. 
Therefore by himself alone he disposeth of all things.  Bo. 
It cannot be denied.  Ph. 
And I have showed that God is the real Good.  Bo. 
I remember it well.  Ph. 
By that Good than doth he order every thing, because he governs all things by himself, whom we have granted to be the Sovereign Good; and he is that great and certain Rule and Method of Government which keeps the Machine of the World together, giving it Stability, and preserving it from Corruption.  Bo. 
I entirely agree to this, and I did foresee before that this was it which thou wert about to say.  Ph. 
I believe it; and now I believe thy Eyes are more intent upon these great Truths. But what I shall say is not less open to thy View.  Bo. 
What is that.  Ph. 
Since God is rightly believed to govern all things by his Goodness, and all those things, as I have before taught, to hasten by a natural Bent and Intention towards Good, can it be doubted but that they voluntarily submit to his Government, and that of their own Accord they willingly comply with, and yield up themselves to him their Ruler?  Bo. 
That must necessarily be, otherwise the Government could not subsist: if People were suffered to draw different ways, there would be no Safety for those who obey.  Ph. 
Is there any Being then, which follows the Dictates of Nature, that endeavours to go contrary to the Laws of God?  Bo. 
No surely.  Ph. 
But if there should be so preposterous an one, shall it ever be able to prevail against him, whom by the Right of true Happiness we have granted to be most powerful?  Bo. 
If there were such an one, certainly it could never prevail.  Ph. 
Then there is nothing that either will or can resist this Sovereign Good.  Bo. 
I think indeed there is nothing.  Ph. 
It is then the Sovereign Good which ruleth all things powerfully, and disposeth them softly and harmoniously.  Bo. 
How am I delighted not only with this Sum and Conclusion of thy Reasons and Arguments, but much more also with thy very Words! so that at length those wicked People who impiously have reprehended the Government of God, may blush and be ashamed of their Folly.  Ph. 
Thou hast read, amongst the Mythologists, the Story of the Giants who stormed Heaven; but the Divine Arms, according to their Demerits, repelled and punished them: But wilt thou now that we commit and compare our Reasons together? Perhaps by so doing some clear Spark of Truth may break out.  Bo. 
Do as it pleaseth thee.  Ph. 
No Body then will doubt but that God is Omnipotent.  Bo. 
No Man in his Senses doubteth of that.  Ph. 
And that there is nothing which he who is Almighty cannot do.  Bo. 
Nothing surely.  Ph. 
Can God then do Evil?  Bo. 
No.  Ph. 
Is Evil nothing? since he cannot do it who can do all things.  Bo. 
Dost thou play with me, leading me by thy Reasons into an inextricable Labyrinth, which sometimes thou interest where thou goest out, and sometimes thou goest out where thou interest? Dost thou endeavour then to amuse me by thy intricate Reasonings, enclosing me in a wonderful Circle of Divine Simplicity? For a little before, beginning at Happiness, thou didst declare it to be the Sovereign Good, and that it did reside in God; then that God himself was that Good, and the Fullness of Happiness: And hence thou didst infer, and give to me as a Mark of thy Bounty, that no Body could be happy, unless he were God. Again thou saidst, that the very Form of Good was the Substance of God and Happiness; and didst teach that that was the only genuine Good which was desired by all things in Nature. Thou further didst argue and demonstrate, that God by his Goodness did govern the World, and that all things willingly obeyed him, and that Evil had not any Nature and Existence which might be properly so called: and these things thou didst explain by no strained or far-fetched Reasons, but by strong and natural Truths, one thing still confirming and verifying another.  Ph. 
I have not deluded thee, for by the Assistance of God, for which we lately prayed, we have run through our chief Work: For such is the Nature and Form of the Divine Substance, that it neither communicates itself to foreign things, nor receives such into its own Nature; but, as Parmenides saith of it, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
God is like to a Sphere which is every way round.   
He rolleth the moving Globe of the World, whilst himself remains immovable: And if I have not drawn my Reasons from things without, but those within the Compass of my Subject, wonder not at it; for as Plato before hath taught us, there ought to be a Consonancy and Alliance betwixt the Word and Matter which we handle.   

METRUM XII.  
Felix qui potuit Boni  
Fontem visere lucidum, etc.  
Too happy were that Mortal who  
The lucid Springs of Truth could view!  
Ah too too happy would he be,  
Who from Earth's Bonds himself could free!  
Though the 
(n) The Threician Poet] was Orpheus the Son of Apollo and Calliope: he received his Harp either from Apollo or Mercury, and was said to play so charmingly, that the Woods and Stones moved, that the Floods stopped their Course when he played, and the wild Beasts, by the Sweetness of his Notes, were made more mild and tame. He had a Wife named Eurydice, who whilst she fled through a Wood from Aristeus, (who was in love with her, and pursued her) was bitten by a Serpent, and died. The sad Accident did so much affect Orpheus, that he went to the infernal Shades, and with the Sweetness of his Notes did so charm Pluto, that he restored to him his Wife, but upon this condition, that he should not look upon her till he did reach the higher Regions; but Orpheus his Love not permitting him to observe this condition, Eurydice died again, and descended to the Place which she had so lately left. The Moral of this Fable is, that Orpheus, by the Civility of his Manners, and the Goodness of his Temper and Example, did civilize the barbarous People of Thrace.  Threician Poet's Song  
Did make the Woods about him throng;  
Though the light Touches of his Hand  
Did make the rolling Rivers stand,  
And made the Hind fearless abide  
Close by the Lion's cruel Side;  
And made the timorous Hare not fear  
Before the keener Hound t' appear;  
Yet when the warmer Fires of Love  
About his Breast did briskly move,  
Those Numbers which did all things tame  
Can not assuage their Master's Flame.  
He of the Gods above complained,  
And to the Shades he did descend:  
There he did strike his tuneful Strings,  
And with his choicest Art he sings,  
Whilst weeping out whatever he  
Had learned from fair Calliope,  
What Grief could dictate, or what Love,  
All that th' infernal Powers could move,  
He draws his dolorous Song t' improve,  
Whilst he those Deities doth implore  
His dead Eurydice to restore.  
The 
(o) The three-jawed Porter.] Cerberus, a Dog feigned by the Poets to have three Heads, and to keep the Gates of Hell.  three-jawed Porter, grim and fierce,  
Struck with the Glories of his Verse,  
Did stand amazed: the Furies who  
Torment the guilty Souls below,  
Did weep, and Tears down their Cheeks did flow.  

(p) Ixion.] He was Father of the Centauris; he slew his Father-in-law: Jupiter took him up into Heaven, where he would have ravished Juno; which being known to Jupiter, he put a Cloud in the Place of Juno, in her Shape, of which the Centauris were begotten: and being thrown down to the Earth again, for boasting that he had lain with Juno, Jupiter cast him into Hell, where he was fastened to a Wheel, with which he was turned about continually. Volvitur Ixion, & se sequiturque fugitq. Ovid. Metam.  Ixion now no more did reel  
Under the Motion of his Wheel,  
Whilst thirsty 
(q) Tantalus.] He was the Son of Jupiter and Plota the Nymph, and Grandfather to Agamemnon and Menelaus. He once entertaining the Gods, to make a Trial of their Power, did dress and serve up to the Feast his Son Pelops; which Fact was so abhorred by the Gods, that for his Punishment he was set in Water up to the Chin, and Apples touched his Mouth, yet he had not Power to stoop to quench his Thirst, nor to take those Apples to satisfy his Hunger.  Tantalus did shun  
The River which did by him run:  
And the 
(r) The charmed Vulture.] Tityus was a Giant. When Jupiter had lain with his Mother Elara, for fear of Juno he put her into a Cave till she was delivered of her Son Tityus; but when he was at Age, Juno, to revenge herself, persuaded him to ravish Latona; which he attempting, Jupiter struck him dead with a Thunderbolt, and sent him to Hell, where a Vulture feeds upon his Liver, which groweth with the Moon.  charmed Vulture now no more  
The growing Liver did devour.  
At length the infernal Judge cried out,  
We are overcome; he now hath bought,  
At the Expense of Verse, his Wife,  
Therefore she shall return to Life:  
Yet this Injunction I will lay  
Upon him, whilst he's on his way,  
That he his Eyes shan't backward cast  
Till the infernal Bounds are past.  
But who, alas! can give a Law  
Which Lovers and their God shall awe?  
Since Love to its own Law's confined,  
Which doth its Maker firmly bind:  
For having left the Realm of Night,  
And almost reached the Land of Light,  
Orpheus himself did turn to see  
His too much-loved Eurydice,  
Lost by his fatal Curiosity.  
This Fable doth belong to you  
Whose Minds the Sovereign Good would view;  
For he who all his Thoughts doth throw,  
And fix on things terrene and low,  
The Noble Good must surely leave,  
Which from above he did receive.   
The End of the Third Book.   

ANICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOETIUS, OF THE Consolation of Philosophy. BOOK the Fourth.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Philosophy teacheth Boetius, who wondered why evil things happen to the good, and good things to evil Men, that the good are powerful, and the other impotent; that Rewards are appointed for those, and Punishments for them; that impious Men are more miserable, if they do Injuries and remain unpunished. Afterwards she defines what Providence is, and what Fate. Then she demonstrates, that all Fortune, whether prosperous or adverse, is good.  

PROSA I.  
WHen Philosophy, preserving the Dignity and the Gravity of her Countenance, had in soft and sweet Strains sung these things, I not having wholly forgot my Grief, and the Distemper of my Mind remaining, did thus interrupt her, being now ready to have continued her Discourse. Those things, O thou Forerunner and Giver of the true Light! which thou hast hitherto delivered, are evidently clear and unanswerable, as well from that Divine Testimony which they bear about them, as from thy irrefragable Reasons: and although I had forgotten them, through the Prevalency of Grief for the many Injuries which I have endured, yet, as thou hast said, I was not wholly ignorant of them: But this one thing, I must own, is the greatest Cause of my Sorrow, to wit, that whilst there is one good Ruler of all things, there should be any Evil at all, or at the least, that it should pass unpunished. And how worthy this is of Admiration thou mayst consider. To this also another greater Mischief is adjoined: For whilst Impiety doth bear Command and flourish, Virtue doth not only want its Reward, but is also trampled upon by wicked Men, and bears the Punishment due to its Enemy. No Man therefore can enough wonder and complain that Affairs should move so under the Governance of a God all-knowing, almighty, and willing nothing but what is the best. And it would indeed, returned she, be a thing not only of infinite Wonder, but also horribly monstrous, if in the well-regulated Family of so great a Master, the worthless Vessels, as thou imaginest, should be honoured, and the more precious ones be despised: But thou art mistaken, it is not truly so: For if these Conclusions which I have drawn be a little reserved entire, thou shalt well know by the Authority of God, of whose Reign and Government I now speak, that the Good are always powerful and mighty, the evil Men ever Castaways and weak; that Vice never passeth without its Punishment, nor Virtue without its Rewards; that Happiness always attends good Men, and Misfortunes the wicked. These and many other things of this kind shall be proved to thee, which may put an end to thy Complaints, and strengthen thee with all Firmness and Solidity. And because I have lately shown to thee, with a full Face, the Figure of true Happiness, and also in what it is placed, and all things being run through which I think necessary to be premised, I shall now chalk out to thee that direct way which will lead thee again to thy own Habitation. I will also affix Wings to thy Mind, by which it may raise itself on high, that so all Trouble being done away, and all Obstacles removed, thou mayst by my Direction, by my Way, by my Conveniences of travelling, return safe into thy own Country.   

METRUM I.  
Sunt etenim pennae volucres mihi  
Quae celsa conscendant Poli, etc.  
For I have nimble Wings which can  
Transcend the Polar Height;  
Which when the swifter Mind puts on,  
She from the hated Earth doth take her Flight:  
Above the 
(a) The Globe of Air.] The Air is defined by its own Bounds; and because it is so diffused that it surrounds the Globe of Earth on all its Parts, it is called by our Philosopher Aeris Globus.  Globe of Air doth go,  
And leaves the Clouds below.  
Above that Region she doth fly,  
In which 
(b) Perpetual Flames.] Here, it is supposed, is meant no other thing than that part of the Aether which is called by Cicero, in his Book de Nat. Deor. Ardour ultimus, estque tenuis, ac perlucens, & aequabili calore suffusus: where the Vertex or top of the Aether being considered, the Mind being carried higher, doth contemplate first the Planets which are placed below the Sun, as Venus, Mercury, and the Moon; then the Sun itself, than those which move in Orbs higher than the Sun, as Saturn, Jupiter and Mars; then the Fixed Stars, and then God himself.  perpetual Flames appear,  
(Which gently warm the Sky)  
Caused by the Motion of the rolling Sphere:  
And till she reach those Spheres, she doth not stay,  
Which Stars adorn, but with the Sun's will join her way.  
Or else along by 
(c) Saturnus.] He is here called Gelidus Senex, the cold old Man: Senex, because the Poets feigned him to be the most ancient of the Gods, and because his Motion is slow, like that of an old Man. He is said also to be gelidus, because he being the highest of all the Planets, doth give the least Heat and Refreshment to the Earth.  aged Saturn's side,  
Or as a 
(d) A Soldier.] Miles Corusci Sideris. The Mind than contemplates Mars, another Planet below Saturn and above the Sun, and is here called his Soldier, because Mars was by the Ancients called the God of War; and those who accompanied him were called his Soldiers. He is called Coruscum Sidus, the bright or shining Star, because he shines more bright than Saturn.  Soldier with stern Mars she'll ride:  
Through every Sphere she runs, where Night  
Most cloudless is, and bright.  
And when this spacious Course is run,  
She to the outmost Sphere doth come,  
And doth its Limits pass,  
And then the Convex back she'll press  
Of the swift Aether, then she'll be  
Prepared th' 
(e) Empyrean.] This is the Coelum Empyraeum sive Beatorum, the highest Heaven, where is supposed to be the Presence of God, Angels, and of blessed Spirits departed.  Empyrean Source of Light to see.  
Here the Great King his mighty Sceptre bears,  
And holds the Reins of th' Universe:  
Here the great Judge in shining Robes doth stand,  
And firm his moving Chariot doth command.  
If wand'ring long, at length thou shalt arrive  
At this blessed Place, thou then wilt soon perceive  
The Country which thou long hast left, and say,  
From hence I sprung, and here I'll gladly stay.  
If looking then beneath the Realms of Light,  
Thou once again wouldst view Earth's dismal Night,  
Thou'lt see those Tyrants whom the People dread,  
Far from those shining Borders banished.   

PROSA II.  Boet. 
O Wonderful thou promisest great things indeed! nor do I doubt but thou canst perform them: therefore I entreat thee, without delay, to satisfy my Expectation.  Ph. 
First then thou shalt know that virtuous Men are always armed with Power, and that the wicked are always destitute of Strength; and these Assertions do mutually demonstrate each other: For since Good and Evil are contrary, if Good be powerful, Evil must be weak and frail; and if thou knowest the Frailness of Evil, the Firmness of Good must also be known to thee. But that the Credit and Truth of my Opinion may appear more abundantly, I will proceed in both ways, confirming what is proposed now on this, now on that part. There are two Poles upon which all humane Actions do turn, that is to say, the Will and Power; if either of these be absent, nothing can be done: For the Will being wanting, no Man attempts to do that which he will not do; and if Power faileth, the Will is of no Effect. Hence it is, that if thou seest any Man desirous to obtain that which he doth not compass, thou needst not doubt but he wanted the Power of obtaining that which he would have.  Bo. 
That's clear, nor can it be denied.  Ph. 
Whom then thou seest do that which he had a mind to do, canst thou doubt that he had a Power to do it?  Bo. 
No surely.  Ph. 
And in that a Man is able to do a thing, Men esteem him mighty; and in that he is not able, he is looked upon as weak.  Bo. 
I confess it.  Ph. 
Dost thou remember then that it was collected from former Reasons; that every Intention of Man's Will, however actuated by different Studies, doth hasten towards Happiness?  Bo. 
I remember well that that was demonstrated.  Ph. 
Canst thou call to mind that it hath been showed, that Happiness is the Sovereign Good, and that when Happiness is sought for, Good is desired of all?  Bo. 
I need not call it to mind, because it is always fixed in my Memory.  Ph. 
All Men then, the good as well as the bad, with one and the same Intention, endeavour to arrive at Good.  Bo. 
It naturally follows.  Ph. 
And it is certain when Men have obtained Good, they are made good.  Bo. 
It is most certain.  Ph. 
Do good Men obtain then what they desire?  Bo. 
It seems so.  Ph. 
But if evil Men obtain the Good which they desire, they may not still be evil?  Bo. 
So it is.  Ph. 
Since therefore then both Parties are in quest of Good, but these only obtain it and the other lose it, it is not at all to be doubted but that good Men are powerful, and the wicked weak and feeble.  Bo. 
Whoever doubts of this, does neither rightly consider the Nature of things, nor understand the Consequences of Reasoning.  Ph. 
Again, if there be two, who, according to Nature, propose to themselves the same thing, and one of them acts naturally, and performs his Intention, but the other cannot administer the natural Office, but imitates him by another Method than what is agreeable to Nature, who did accomplish his Purpose, yet this Man doth not attain his End; which of these dost thou judge to be most powerful?  Bo. 
Although I guess at what thou sayest, yet I desire thou wouldst further explain thyself.  Ph. 
Thou wilt not deny but the Motion of Walking is natural to Men?  Bo. 
No, I cannot.  Ph. 
And thou doubtest not, but to perform this Motion is the natural Office of the Feet?  Bo. 
Nor will I deny it.  Ph. 
If then he who is able to use his Feet walks, and if another to whom this natural Office of the Feet is wanting, creeping upon his Hands, doth endeavour to walk, which of these, by right, aught to be esteemed more able?  Bo. 
Proceed with what remains; for no one doubteth but he who is able to move naturally upon his Feet, is more powerful than he who cannot.  Ph. 
But the Sovereign Good, which even the Virtuous and Impious propose to themselves as their End, by the one Party is sought by the natural means of Virtue, whilst the other endeavours after it by various and differing Desires of earthly things, which is not the natural way of obtaining it; dost thou think otherwise?  Bo. 
No; for the Consequence is plain, and it appears out of that which before I granted, which was, that the Good were endowed with Power and Might, and that the evil Men were destitute of it.  Ph. 
Thou dost rightly run before me; and it is a good Sign, as Physicians observe, when Nature exerts herself, and resists the Malady. But because I perceive thou art quick of Apprehension, and ready to understand, I shall continue to thee my Reasons: Behold then how plainly the Infirmity and Weakness of vicious Men lies open, who cannot even attain to that to which their natural Intention leads them, and which it almost compels them to seek. And what dost thou think would become of these Men, if they were deserted by this almost unconquerable Bent and Help of Nature, which always goes before them? Consider with thyself how great the Impotence of wicked Men is: Nor are they slight and empty things to which they aspire, and which they have not Power to obtain: But they attempt the chief and highest of all things, and there they fail; nor can bring that to effect after which they by Day and Night endeavour; and in the obtaining of which the Might of the Virtuous is eminent. For as thou mayst deem him a good Walker, who hath been able to go so far on his Feet, that no way doth lie beyond the Place at which he is arrived; so must thou necessarily judge him to be most mighty, who hath attained that thing beyond which nothing is to be desired. True then it is, that wicked Men are wholly destitute of those Powers which the Good amply possess: For why do they leave Virtue and pursue Vice? Is it because they know not Good? But what is more weak and base than the Blindness of Ignorance? or are they perhaps acquainted with the way which they ought to follow? But Lust, or some inordinate Desires do lead them aside; so doth also Intemperance to weak Natures, which cannot resist Vice. But do they knowingly and willingly desert Good, and turn to Evil? But this way they do not only cease to be mighty, but also even to be. For those who neglect the common End of all Being's, do also leave off to be. Which thing perhaps to some may seem wonderful, that the Vicious, who make up the most numerous Part of Mankind, should not be Men; but it is most truly so. And thus it is. I do not deny but that the Wicked are wicked; but that they have any Being, purely and simply, I deny: For as thou mayst call a Carcase a dead Man, but simply thou canst not call it a Man; so will I grant that the Vicious are vicious Men, but absolutely that they exist I cannot confess. That thing is or hath a Being which observeth its Order, and retains its Nature; but that which faileth in this, deserteth its natural Being. But thou mayst say, that even the Wicked have a Power to act: Nor will I deny it; but this their Power is not derived from Strength but Weakness. They can do Evil, 'tis true, but they could not do that if they persevered in doing Good; which Possibility doth clearly demonstrate that they can do nothing: For if, as we have before gathered, Evil be nothing, it is clear that whilst flagitious Men can only do ill, they can do nothing. And that thou mayst understand what is the Bend and Force of this Power, we have before determined that nothing is more powerful than the Sovereign Good.  Bo. 
That's true.  Ph. 
And that Sovereign Good can do no ill.  Bo. 
It can do none.  Ph. 
Is there then any one who thinks that Men can do all things?  Bo. 
No Man surely who is not mad.  Ph. 
But they may do Evil.  Bo. 
I wish they could not.  Ph. 
Then since he who can only do Good, can do all things, and those who are powerful to do Evil cannot do all things, it is most evident that those who do Evil are less powerful. And yet it further assists me towards the proving of what I have showed, that all Power is to be reckoned amongst things to be desired; and that all things are to be referred to the chief Good, as the Height and Eminency of their Nature: But the Power of committing Wickedness cannot be referred to that Good; therefore it is not desirable: but all Power is desirable. It is therefore clear that the Power of doing Evil is not Power. Upon the whole Matter, from hence the Power of good Men, and the undoubted Weakness of evil Men may well appear. Hence also is the Opinion of Plato verified, That only wise Men can attain to that which they desire, whilst the Wicked, let them endeavour what they will, can never accomplish what they desire to themselves, that is, to aim at Happiness; for they do what they list, whilst by those Actions in which they delight, they think they shall obtain the Good which they desire; but they can never be Possessors of it, for Impiety can never be crowned with Happiness.   

METRUM II.  
Quos vides sedere celsos  
Solii Culmine Reges, etc.  
Who the vain Cover could withdraw  
Of Princes clothed in Purple, who  
Surrounded with their Guards do go,  
And from their powerful Thrones give Law:  
Whose sterner Looks fierce Threaten wear,  
Whose boiling Breasts doth Fury breath,  
Shall find those mighty Men beneath  
Their Robes, do heavy Fetters bear.  
For Lust on this side doth infuse  
Her Poisons, on the other Ire  
Blows up and sets the Mind on Fire,  
Or Grief or Hope doth it amuse.  
Since than so many Tyrants have  
Over one single Head the Sway,  
His Actions can't his Will obey,  
Who to so many is a Slave.   

PROSA III.  Phil. 
DOST thou see then in what a Puddle of Filth Impiety doth wallow, and with what Rays of Light Goodness doth shine out? By which it is clear, that good Men never go without a Reward, and evil Men without Punishment; for that which causes any thing to be undertaken and done, may justly be said to be the Reward of that thing which is done; as the Crown which is won is the Reward of him who runs in the Race for it. But we have already shown that Happiness is that Good for which all Matters are undertaken. Therefore Happiness is the Reward proposed to all humane Actions; and of this the Virtuous can by no means be deprived, nor can any Man by right be called Good who wanteth Goodness; therefore Virtue can never want its Reward. But however evil Men may be unquiet or rage, yet the Crown shall never fall from the Head of the wise Man, nor whither upon it. Nor can the Impiety of another Man bereave a worthy Soul of its Honour: But if a Man be carried away by the Enjoyment of any foreign Good, he may be deprived even of this, either by him who gave it to him, or by any other. But because every Man's proper Good procureth to him his Reward, whosoever ceaseth to be good loseth that Reward. Lastly, since a Reward is desired, because it is supposed to be a Good, who will judge him who is capable of Good to be uncapable of a Reward? But thou wilt say, of what Reward is he worthy? Of the fairest, certainly, and most considerable. Call to mind that remarkable Corollary, which a little before gathered, I gave to thee, and consider thus: Since the Sovereign Good is Happiness, it appears that all good Men, in that they are good, become happy; and those who are good, are as it were Gods. Therefore is the Reward of virtuous Men such, that no time shall impair it, no Power diminish it, nor any Impiety darken it. Since these things than are thus, a wise Man cannot at all doubt of the Punishment which inseparably attends wicked Men: For since Good and Evil are Contraries, so are Rewards and Punishments: therefore as we see that Rewards follow good Actions, there must necessarily also, on the other hand, be the Punishment for Evil. Then as Virtue itself is a Reward to virtuous Men, so Vice is a Punishment to the Wicked: whoever then is punished with Pain and Uneasiness, it is not to be doubted is affected with Evil. If therefore they will rightly weigh themselves, can they seem to be free from Punishments, whom Wickedness, the most extreme Evil, doth not only affect, but even vehemently infect? But now behold, on the other hand, what Punishment attends evil Doers; for thou hast learned a little before, that every Being is one, and that that one is Good. Hence it follows, that every thing which is, or hath a Being, seems to be good: Whatsoever then fails to be good, fails to be: So that it appears that evil Men cease to be what they were; but the remaining Form of the Body shows that these evil Men were before however Men; wherefore when they lose their Virtue, they also lose their humane Nature. But since only Virtue can carry Men above the common Pitch of Humanity, it is sure that those whom Vice hath deposed from the common Condition of Mankind, it must also throw below the Merit of Men. Then it happens that you cannot esteem him to be a Man, whom you see thus transformed by his Vices. Doth the violent Oppressor, and the Ravisher of other men's Goods, burn with Avarice? Thou mayst say that he resembles the Wolf. Is he fierce; and doth he give himself over to Controversies and Chiding? Thou mayst compare him to the Dog. Is he treacherous, and one who delights to deceive? He is then like the young Foxes. Is he intemperate in his Anger? He seems to carry about with him the Fury of the Lion. Is he timorous and fearful of what ought not to be feared? He is like the Hart. Is he light, and doth he inconstantly change his Purposes? He differs nothing from the Birds of the Air. Doth he wallow in filthy and unclean Lusts? He rolls himself in the Mire like the nasty Sow. So that whosoever leaves off to be virtuous, ceases to be a Man; and since he cannot attain to a Divine Nature, he is turned into a Beast.   

METRUM III.  
Vela Neritii Ducis,  
Et vagas pelago rates  
Eurus appulit Insulae, etc.  
Whilst he on unknown Seas did widely rove,  
The eastern Winds at length to that Isle drove  
The wise 
(f) Neritian Captain.] Ulysses, he was the Son of Laertes and Anticlea, an eloquent and wise Captain of the Grecians, who, after the Siege of Troy was ended, was driven into many Dangers at Sea, during the Time of ten Years, before he could arrive at Ithaca, of which Island he was King, as also of Dulichium, both in the Ionian Sea: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Homer. lib. 1. Odyss. Ithaca is situated betwixt Zephalonia to the West, and the Echinades to the East, which Islands are now called by the Italians Le Curzolari, and by the French Les Cursolaires. The modern Name of Ithaca is now, by the Italians, Valle di Compare, and its Circuit is not of above twenty Miles. Dulichium is one of the Echinades Islands, it is very small, and is rather to be called a Rock, and lies betwixt the Coast of Aetolia and Zephalonia. It is now by the Italians called Dolichio. He is here called the Neritian Captain, from the Mountain Neritus, which is a Mountain in Ithaca, with which Title he went to the Trojan War.  Neritian Captains wand'ring Sail,  
Where 
(g) Circe.] She is said to have been the Daughter of the Sun and of Perseus a Nymph, and to have been very skilful in Magic and Sorcery: She was married to the King of the Sarmatians, and having poisoned her Husband, she fled to Italy, and inhabited a Mountain there, where she led a vicious Life, and entertained her Guests with all sorts of Debaucheries; therefore she is fabled to have turned Men into Wolves, Tigers, and other sorts of Beasts. 
— Accipimus sacrâ data pocula dextrâ,  
Quae fimul arenti sitientes hausimus ore,  
Et tetigit virgâ summos Dea dira capillos,  
Et pudet, & referam, setis horrescere coepi;  
Nec jam posse queri; pro verbis edere raucum  
Murmur, & in terram toto procumbere vultu,  
Osque meum sensi pando occallescere rostro;  
Colla tumere toris; & qua modo pocula parte  
Sumpta mihi fuerant, illâ vestigia seci.  Ovid. Metam. l. 14.  Circe Daughter of the Sun doth dwell;  
Where, with enchanted Draughts, she entertains  
Her new-come Guests, & binds them with her Chains.  
Whilst into various Forms her Magic Hand  
Doth turn those Men, and doth all Herbs command;  
One the Resemblance of a Boar doth bear,  
He the 
(h) Marmarick.] Marmarica is a Country of Africa, lying towards Egypt, where the greatest and strongest Lions are found, as India is the Place where the fiercest Tigers are. 
Mille Lupi, mystic Lupis Vrsique Leaeque,  
Occursu fecêre metum: sed nulla timenda,  
Nullaque erat nostro factura in corpore vulnus;  
Quinetiam blandas movere per acra caudas,  
Nostraque adulantes comitant vestigia, donec  
Excipiunt Famulae. Ovid. Metam. lib. 14. ver. 260.   Marmarick Lion's Paw doth wear,  
And like the Wolf another doth appear,  
Who, when he would with Tears his Fate lament,  
Doth cloth in dreadful Howl his Complaint:  
The Indian Tyger's Looks another shows,  
And round the Palace mild and calmly goes:  
But the 
(i) 
The Arcadian God.] Our Philosopher styles Mercury, Numen Arcadis alitis: Numen because he was feigned to be the Son of Apollo and Maia; and also the God of Eloquence. Alice, because he was feigned to have Wings upon his Head and Feet, because Eloquence, over which he was said to preside, takes its Course swiftly through the Air, and diffuseth itself through the World: and Arcas, because he was born in Arcadia. Hence Virgil. Aeneid. lib. 8.  
Vobis Mercurius pater est, quem candida Maia  
Cyllenes gelido conceptum vertice fudit.  
Mercury was said to have given an Herb to Ulysses, after he had run through so many Hazards, and been tossed upon so many Seas, by the Help of which he was freed from the Charms of Circe.  
Pacifer huic dederat florem Cyllenius album,  
Moly vocant Superi; nigrâ radice tenetur.  
Tutus eo, monitisque simul coelestibus, intrat  
Ille domum Circe's, & ad insidiosa vocatus  
Pocula, conantem virgâ mulcere capillos  
Reppulit, & stricto pavidam deterruit ense. Ovid. Metam. lib. 14.   Arcadian God when he had found  
His loved Ulysses in these Fetters bound,  
Released him soon from all these poisonous Harms  
Which he derived from the Circean Charms.  
Yet had the Mariners just now drunk a-cheer,  
And into Swine soon metamorphosed were:  
They deeply tasted of th' infected Bowl,  
Drunk with their Fate, about they madly roll;  
And now they change their wont humane Food,  
And range about for Acorns in the Wood;  
Body and Members lost, the Voice doth fail,  
Only the nobler Mind doth still prevail,  
And doth the Sadness of the Change bewail.  
But O! too weak are Circe's Force and Hand,  
Against whose Power Virtue can bravely stand.  
She in her Fortress placed, despiseth all  
The strong Efforts of both. Vice doth enthral  
men's strongest Powers; and where it entrance finds,  
(The Body safe) it wounds the strongest Minds.   

PROSA iv  Boet. 
I Confess that vicious Men are not unjustly called Beasts, for although they retain the Form and Shapes of an humane Body, yet the Qualities of their Souls show them to be changed into them. But I would not have it in the Power of those vicious Persons, who even rage with a Desire of destroying just Men, to do so.  Ph. 
Nor is it in their Power, as shall be showed in a convenient Place; but if this Power which People think ill Men to have, were taken away from them they would be eased of the greatest part of their Punishment: For it would almost seem incredible to any one, and it is yet true, that evil Men must necessarily be more unhappy when they have compassed what they desire, than when they cannot do so: For if it be a miserable thing but to have a Will to do an ill thing, it must be much worse to have a Power to do it, without which the wretched Desire would languish without effect. Since then each of these things hath its Unhappiness, it must of necessity be, that a threefold Misfortune must urge those Men who both will, can, and do commit Wickedness.  Bo. 
I grant it, but I should much desire that evil Men were soon deprived of this Misfortune, I mean of the Power of doing ill.  Ph. 
They shall be despoiled of it sooner than perhaps thou wouldst have them, or than they think they shall: For there is nothing of so late a Beginning within the narrow Bounds of this Life, that can continue long, or expect Immutability; and the great Hopes and subtle Machinations of ill Men are by a sudden and unforeseen End ruinated and destroyed; which thing puts an End to their Wickedness. For if Vice subjects Men to Misery, the longer they are vicious, the longer they must be miserable; whom I should judge the most unhappy of all Being's, if their Unhappiness were not ended at least by Death: For if I have made a true Conclusion concerning the Misfortune which attends Impiety, that Misery must be without end which certainly is Eternal.  Bo. 
This is a most wonderful Consequence, and difficult to be granted; yet I must acknowledge it doth but too much agree with those things which we have concluded before.  Ph. 
Thou dost rightly judge: but he who thinks it hard to assent to a Conclusion, it is fit he should demonstrate that the Premises are untrue, or that from the Collation of the Propositions a necessary Conclusion is not to be drawn; otherwise if the Premises be granted, he hath no Reason to blame the Inference from them: for this which I am now about to say will not seem less wonderful, but it necessarily follows from what hath been before proposed.  Bo. 
What is that?  Ph. 
That wicked Men are more happy when they are punished according to their Demerits, than if they should escape the Hand of Justice. Nor do I now offer to thee that which every Man can think, that the Manners of ill Men are corrected by Vengeance, and that by fear of Torment they are reduced to the right way, and that they are Examples to other Men to fly from things which are blame worthy: but I, after another manner, believe these Wretches if they escape Punishment to be unhappy, although no Regard be had to the Correction and Example.  Bo. 
And what other manner is there besides those ?  Ph. 
Have we not granted already that the Good are happy, and the Impious miserable?  Bo. 
We have.  Ph. 
If then there be any Addition of Good to any Man's Misery, is not he happier than another, whose Misery is pure and simple, without the mixture of any manner of Good?  Bo. 
It seemeth so to be.  Ph. 
And if to the same miserable Person, who wants all manner of Goods to those Evils which have already made him miserable, another should be annexed, is not he to be esteemed much more unhappy than he whose Misfortune is relieved by the participation of Good?  Bo. 
What will follow then?  Ph. 
Evil Men then, even when they are punished, have something of Good annexed, to wit, the Punishment itself, which, as it is the Effect of Justice, is good: And there is also annexed to the same Persons, when they go unpunished; something more of Ill, that is to say, Impunity itself, which before thou hast deservedly granted to be an Evil.  Bo. 
I cannot deny it.  Ph. 
Much more unhappy than are impious Wretches when they meet with an unjust Impunity, than when they fall under a merited Vengeance. But it is manifest, that nothing can be more just than that evil Men should be punished, and unjust than that they should escape Punishment.  Bo. 
Who denies it?  Ph. 
Nor will any Man deny but that every thing which is just, is good; and on the other hand, whatsoever is unjust, is ill.  Bo. 
These are consequential to our former Conclusions: But I pray thee tell me, dost thou believe that there are any Punishments allotted to Souls after the Death of the Bodies?  Ph. 
Great ones most certainly; some of which I believe to be exercised and applied by Sharpness of Pain, others by a kind of 
(k) Purgative Clemency.] Here (saith Vallinus) Boetius acknowledgeth not only as a Christian, but as a Catholic one also, that some evil Men are condemned to eternal Punishments; and others, by long Pains and Torments for their Sins, are cleansed and purged by Fire. The French Commentator, the Sieur Cally, the Royal Professor of Eloquence and of Philosophy in the University of Caen in Normandy, and Principal of the College of the Arts there, saith, that Philosophy would here perhaps express the Opinion of the Platonists, or of the Pythagoreans, which was, that some Souls, whose Impieties had been so great that they could not be effaced by any Purgations, were condemned to eternal Punishments; and that others, whose Crimes were not so great, did either enjoy the eternal Pleasures of Elysium without any Purgation, or being partly purged, were transmuted and put into the Bodies of Beasts. 
Ergo exercentur poenis; veterumque malorum  
Supplicia expendunt: aliae panduntur inanes  
Suspensae ad ventos: aliis sub gurgite vasto  
Infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni:  
Quisque suos patimur manes: Exinde per amplum  
Mittimur Elysium, & pauci laeta arva tenemus. Virg. lib. 6. Aeneid.   Purgative Clemency: 
Purgatoria Clementia.  But we will not at this time discourse of these. But our Business hitherto hath been, to let thee see that the Power which thou didst imagine to be most unworthily bestowed upon evil Men, is indeed none at all: And also that thou mightst be satisfied that evil Men, who as thou didst complain went unpunished, do never indeed escape Punishment: And also that thou mightst learn that that Licence of doing Evil, which thou prayedst might soon end, is not long; and that the Enjoyers would be more unhappy if it were longer, and most wretched of all if it were perpetual. After this I shown that ill Men are more unhappy if they be dismissed with an unjust Impunity, than if punished with a just Revenge. From which Opinion it follows, that then they are urged and afflicted with the greatest Punishments when they are believed to escape free.  Bo. 
When I consider intently thy Reasons, I think nothing can be said more truly. But if we look upon the Judgements of Men, who is there to whom these things seem not only not to be believed, but also not to be heard?  Ph. 
So it is indeed: for they who have long been accustomed to Darkness cannot lift up their Eyes to the Light of perspicuous Truth without difficulty; and they resemble those Birds which see well by Night, but are blind in the Daytime: For whilst they do not regard the Order of things, but only their own disordered Affections, they vainly imagine the Power of doing Evil, or Impunity after it is acted, to be an Happiness. But now, behold what the Law Eternal delivereth! Conform thy Mind to the best things, and then thou shalt have no need of a Judge to confer upon thee a Reward, since thou hast adjoined thyself to the most excellent things. But if thou art inclined to Impiety, and dost embrace wicked Practices, seek for no Avenger without, for thou hast sorfeited thy Advantages, and associated thyself with the worst of things: as if thou shouldst by turns sometimes behold the Heavens, sometimes the sordid Earth; and that all other things ceasing from without, thy Eye should seem to carry thee now above the Stars, and that again thou shouldst be placed upon the Earth. But the Multitude doth not consider this. What then? Shall we put ourselves into the Company of those which I have before shown to resemble Beasts? What wilt thou say, if a Man who hath quite lost his Sight, and hath also forgotten that ever he saw, and should think that he wants nothing to render him perfect, should we therefore judge those who retain their Sight to be blind also? Either will the Many acquiesce in what I shall say, although it is supported by as firm Reasons, to wit, that those are more unhappy who do, than they who suffer Injuries.  Bo. 
I would willingly hear those Reasons.  Ph. 
Canst thou deny but that all ill Men deserve Punishment?  Bo. 
No, I cannot.  Ph. 
But I am throughly satisfied that impious Men are many ways unhappy.  Bo. 
Certainly they are so.  Ph. 
Then thou doubtest not that those who deserve Punishment are miserable.  Bo. 
I agree.  Ph. 
If therefore thou wert to be Judge, to which dost thou think thou wouldst adjudge Punishment, to him who hath done, or to him who hath suffered the Injury?  Bo. 
I doubt not but that I should adjudge Satisfaction to the Sufferer, by punishing the Doer of Wrong.  Ph. 
The injuring Person then would seem more miserable to thee than him who had received the Wrong.  Bo. 
That follows.  Ph. 
From this then, and from several other Reasons founded on the same bottom, it appears, that Impiety, properly and by its own Nature, makes Men miserable; and that an Injury done to any Man is the Misery of the Doer, and not of the Sufferer. But now Orators and Advocates run a Course contrary to this: For they endeavour the Pity and Compassion of the Judges for those who suffered any thing bitter or grievous, when the juster Pity is due to them who did the Wrong; who should be led to Judgement, as the Sick are to the Physician, not by angry but by merciful and compassionate Accusers; that so they may, by the Application of Punishment, as a fit and proper Remedy, be cured of the Malady of the Crime. By this means the Employment of this kind of Defenders would either wholly cease, or else, that it may be more to the Advantage of Mankind, it would be turned into an Habit of Accusation, and would always be forward to accuse, and not to excuse ill Men: and even those Wretches themselves, if they could through the least Hole or Chink behold that Virtue which they have forsaken, and see that they should be in some way of cleansing themselves from their filthy Vices, by receiving the Pains and Torments which are due to them, they ought, for the Recompense of regaining the Virtue from which they have fallen, not to esteem them so, but should cheerfully refuse the Defence of their Advocates, and give themselves up wholly to their Accusers and Judges. Hence it is that the Wise hate no Body▪ For who but the most foolish would hate good Men? and it is irrational to hate the most profligate: For if a depraved Temper be, as it were, the Sickness of the Soul, since we do not think those whose Bodies are distempered to be worthy of our Hate, but rather of our Compassion, much less are those over whom Vice, more cruel than any bodily Distemper, hath gained the Ascendant to be adjudged so, but are rather to be looked upon as Subjects of our Pity.   

METRUM iv  
Quid tantos juvat excitare motus,  
Et propria fatum sollicitare manu? etc.  
Why should vain Man so great Commotions raise?  
Why with his Hand should he his Fate convey?  
If Death be sought, that comes, and never stays  
For winged Steeds to help it on its way,  
They whom the Lion and the rugged Bear,  
The Indian Tiger, and the foaming Boar,  
With eager Teeth, and with armed Claws do tear,  
Do slain their Swords in their own reeking Gore.  
Is it because their Manners differing are,  
And that their many Customs disagree,  
That they unjustly thus engage in War,  
And fiercely urge each others Destiny?  
This Reason is not just for shedding Blood.  
Wouldst thou to each Man give what he deserves;  
Love, as by Right thou art obliged, the Good,  
And pity him who from fair Virtue swerves.   

PROSA V  Boet. 
HERE I plainly see what Happiness or Misery is placed in the Deserts of good and of evil Men. But in this same common Estate of Fortune I perceive something both of Good and Evil: For no wise Man had rather be exposed to Banishment, Poverty, and Ignominy, than excel in Riches, Honours, Power, and continue in a flourishing Estate in his own Country. For in this the more clearly and openly the Duty of Wisdom doth appear, when the Happiness of the Governors is in some measure diffused, and communicated to Subjects; whilst Imprisonment, and all legal Punishments are only due to those pernicious and profligate Citizens, for whom they were at first instituted and appointed. Why then should things suffer so unnatural a Change? Why should Punishments due to Crimes, oppress the Good, and the Rewards of Virtue be born only by wicked and flagitious Men? These things I much wonder at, and I desire to learn from thee what may be the Reason of so unjust a Distribution. For my Wonder would be less, did I believe all things to be governed by Chance. But now even God, the Governor of all things, doth heighten my Astonishment, who whilst he doth often distribute good things to the Good, and evil things to the Wicked, yet doth sometimes give to the Virtuous an hard Portion, and to the impious Man he grants his Heart's Desire. What Difference then is there to be found, unless Men may be acquainted with the Cause betwixt his Proceed and the Actings of Chance?  Ph. 
Nor is it at all to be admired if Men fancy something rash and confused in these Methods of Acting, if they are ignorant of the Reason of that Order by which God proceeds. But although thou art ignorant of the Cause of this great Disposal of things, yet because the good Governor of all things doth temper and inform the World, never doubt but that all things are done rightly and as they ought to be.   

METRUM V  
Siquis Arcturi sidera nescit  
Propinqua summo Cardine labi, etc.  
Who knows not that 
(l) Arcturus.] Videses Annotat. in l. 1.  Arcturus moves  
Near to the Arctic Pole, nor why  

(m) Bootes.] Or Bubulcus, is called so because it is a Constellation framed of Stars, which resemble the Form of a Cart and Oxen. This Constellation is very near to the North Pole; and being placed so high, it always appears in our Hemisphere. It is said also to drown its Flames late in the Sea, because it never descends below our Horizon.  Boots slow passeth his Wain,  
Drowning i'th' Sea his later Flame,  
When he unfolds his quicker Rise,  
Will wonder at the Laws of Heaven.  
And if he know not why the Horns  
Of the 
(n) 
Full-Moon.] It often happens that the Earth is so interposed betwixt the Sun and the Full-Moon, that the Moon being obscured by the terrestrial Shadows, doth lose the round Splendour which it borrowed from the Sun; and that the Stars, whose Light was before obscured by the greater Brightness of the Moon, begin to shine out: From whence the Ancients, whose Superstition made them believe that that Decrease was occasioned by Charms, did think they might deliver her from it by the tinkling of brazen Vessels or Cymbals: From whence Tibullus, 
Cantus & è curru Lunam deducere tentat  
Et faceret, si non aera repulsa sonent.  

And Juven. Sat. 6.  Tot pariiter pelves, tot tintinnabula dicas  
Pulsari: jam nemo tubas atque aera fatiget,  
una laboranti poterit succurrere Lunae.  

And Virg. Eclog. 8.  Carmina vel Coelo possunt deducere Lunam.   
All these things, saith Boetius, make the Admiration of the Vulgar, because they know not the Causes of them.   Full-Moon grow pale, whilst they  
Are dipped within the Bounds of Night,  
And how the Moon, confused and dark,  
Displays those Stars which she before  
Had in her brighter Glories hid.  
A vulgar Error is retained  
By many People, who do think  
To rescue Luna from Eclipse  
With brazen Cymbals, and with Strokes  
On Basins, which do rend the Air.  
Yet none admire when 
(o) Corus'] Or Caurus, the Northwest Wind. Philosophy having showed that Men wonder at many things because they know not the Causes of them, doth now show that they wonder not at things of which they know the Causes: As why Corus doth beat the Waves fiercely against the Seacoasts, they knowing that Wind is a moved Body, and that any Body which hath Motion doth naturally strike against any other Body which meets it in its way. As also Men do not admire why an Heap of Snow hardened and congealed by Cold, should be melted by the Heat of the Sun, because they know that the quiet Parts of the hardened Snow may be dissolved by the moved Particles of the warm Sun.  Corus' blows,  
And makes the Waves assault the Shore;  
Nor when the Sun's refreshing Heat,  
Dissolves vast Heaps of congealed Snow.  
For here the Causes open lie:  
But those which closely are wrapped up,  
Disquiet much the Thoughts and Mind.  
The giddy People stand amazed  
At that which rarely or by chance arrives.  
But if that cloudy Error would departed,  
Which stupid Ignorance doth raise,  
These things no more by Men would be admired.   

PROSA VI  Boet. 
SO it is; but because it is thy Province to unfold the hidden Causes of things, and to lay open those Reasons which are now invelop'd in Darkness, I entreat thee to give me thy Judgement in this Matter, and to discourse upon it, for this Wonder troubles me very much. Philosophy then a little smiling, said to me, O thou call'st upon me to declare to thee the greatest thing which could be asked, and which indeed can scarce be answered: For such is the Matter of it, that one Doubt being removed, innumerable others, like the Heads of 
(p) Hydra.] This was a Monster feigned by the Poets to have fifty, or, as others will, an hundred Heads; one of which being cut off, two did arise in its Place, till Hercules having cut off one of the Heads, did sear the Wound with hot Iron.  Hydra, grow up. Nor would there indeed be any End of them, unless they were restrained by the Quickness and lively Fire of the Mind: For in this Matter Men are wont to make Questions of the simple Actings of Providence, of the Order and Course of Destiny, of sudden Chance, of Knowledge, of Divine Predestination, and of : And of what Weight these things are, thou thyself mayst perceive. But because it is part of thy Medicine, and it will contribute much to thy Cure to know these things, although I am confined within the narrow Bounds of Time, I shall endeavour to give thee some Taste of them. And although the Charms and Music of my Verse may delight thee, yet thou must defer that Pleasure a little, whilst I in order wove together my Reasons, which may tend to the Solution of thy Doubts.  Bo. 
Observe thy own Method as it pleaseth thee. Then taking her Beginning as from another Principle, she thus discoursed.  Ph. 
The Generation of all things, and every Progression of changeable Natures, and all things which are any way moved, receive their Causes, Order and Forms out of the Stability or Constancy of the Divine Mind. And this being placed in the Height of its own Purity or Simplicity, doth establish a manifold Mode or Way in doing things; which Mode or Manner of Proceeding, when Men behold it in the Purity of the Divine Understanding, is called Providence; but being applied and referred to that which it moveth, and of which it disposeth, it was called Fate or Destiny. And if any one shall throughly weigh in his Mind the Force and Energy of the one and of the other, he shall soon find them to be different things: For Providence is that Divine Reason settled in the chief Governor of the World, by which he disposeth all things; but Fate or Destiny is a Disposition inherent in movable Being's, by which Providence knits them together in their Orders. Providence embraces and comprehends all things, although divers, although infinite; but Fate orders and digests all single things into Motion, and distributeth them according to Place, Form and Time: So that the Explication of this temporal Order being joined or folded up, in regard to the Divine Mind, may be called Providence; and being unfolded and digested according to Time, and the other Circumstances, it may be called Fate. And although these things be different, yet one of them depends upon the other; for the Order of Fate proceeds from the pure Simplicity of Providence: For as the Artificer forming in his Mind the Shape of the thing which he is about to make, moves to effect his Work, and doth in process of time draw out that which before he had singly in his Imagination designed; so God by his Providence simply and firmly doth dispose the things which are to be done; and he doth in several Ways, and according to Time, administer by Fate those very things which he hath so disposed. So then, whether Fate be exercised and moved by some Divine Spirits which attend upon Providence, or by some Soul, or by the Ministry of the whole Body of Nature, or by the Celestial Motions of the Stars, or by Angelic Virtue, or by the manifold Subtlety of Demons, whether good or bad, or if by any of these, or if by all of them the Series of Fate is woven: This certainly is manifest, that the immovable and simple way of doing things is Providence; and that the movable Contexture and temporal Order of those things which the Divine Purity fore-disposed and ordered to be done, is Fate. Hence it is that all things which are under the Dominion of Fate, are also subject to Providence, which commands even Fate itself. But some things which are placed under the Guidance and Protection of Providence, are wholly exempt from the Jurisdiction of Fate, and surmount the Series of it; and those are such things as are stably fixed near to the Divinity, and are above the Order of fatal Mobility. For even as amongst several Circles turning about the same Centre, that which is innermost approacheth most to the Simplicity of the middle Point, and is as it were a Centre, round which they may turn, to those placed without it; and that which is outermost, rolling in a greater Circuit, the further it departs from the middle Individuity of the Point, so much the more Space it doth fill; but yet if any thing should join and fasten itself to the Point, it is constrained to be immovable, and ceaseth to be dilated. By parity of Reason the further any thing departeth from the first Mind, that is from God, it is so much the more embarrassed, and faster bound in the Bonds of Destiny; and every thing is by so much the freer from Fate, by how much it approacheth nearer to the Centre of all things. And if it closely adheres to the Firmness of the supreme Mind, without moving, it goes beyond the Necessity and Power of Destiny. As Ratiocination then is to the Intellect, as that which is begotten is to that which hath a proper Being, as Time is to Eternity, as the Circle is to the Centre; so is the movable Order of Fate to the stable Simplicity of Providence. This Order moveth the Heavens and the Stars, tempereth the Elements, and maketh them agree amongst themselves, and by an alternative Change transforms them. It reneweth all things which are born, and which die by the like Progressions of Sexes and Seeds. This binds together the Actions and Fortunes of Men by an indissoluble Connection of Causes; which, since they proceed from the Origine of immovable Providence, must also themselves necessarily be unchangeable: For so things are always best governed, if that pure Simplicity or Singleness, dwelling in the Divine Nature, may produce that unalterable Order of Causes; for this Order, by its own Unchangeableness and Constancy, may restrain those things which in their Nature are mutable, and which would otherwise rashly and irregularly float about. Hence it is that although things may seem confused and disturbed to Men who cannot aright consider this Order, nevertheless the proper Manner and Course of every thing directs and disposeth it to the true Good: For there is nothing done for the sake of Evil, no not by the most flagitious Wretches; who, as I have fully before demonstrated, are in their Researches after Good diverted by crooked Error, whilst the Order proceeding from the Centre of Sovereign Good doth not misled any from its Principles. But thou mayst say, what greater Confusion can there be, that both prosperous and adverse things should by times happen to good Men, and that evil Men can enjoy what their Hearts can desire, and yet be afflicted too with things which they hate? Do People live now a-days so virtuously, and with so much Integrity, that those whom Men think good or bad, must necessarily be either? But in this the Judgements of Men disagree much: For those whom some judge worthy of a Reward, others think to deserve Punishment. But let us grant, that it is possible that some one may be able to distinguish betwixt the Good and the Bad; Is it possible therefore that he should look into the inward Temperament of the Mind, and pronounce of it as one may of the Body? But it is miraculous to him who knows it not, why sweet things should be agreeable to some Bodies, and bitter to others; and why some sick People are eased by Lenitives, others are helped by sharper Medicines. But it is no wonder to the Physician, who knoweth the Measure and Temperament of Health and Sickness. But what other thing is it that makes the Mind healthful and strong than Goodness? And what is its Sickness but Vice? Who is the Preserver of Good, and the Driver away of Evil, other than God the great Ruler and Physician of the Mind? who, when he looks about him from the high Observatory of his Providence, sees and knows what is convenient for every one, and then accommodates him with the Convenience. Hence then proceeds that remarkable Miracle of the Order of Destiny, since the all-knowing God doth that at which the Ignorant are astonished. But now that I may glance at a few things concerning the Depth of the Divine Knowledge, which humane Reason may comprehend, that Man whom thou believest to be most just, and the greatest Observer and Maintainer of Equity, of that Man, I say, the all-knowing Providence doth think otherwise. And 
(q) My Familiar Lucan.] Lucan is here styled by Philosophy Familiaris noster Lucanus, because he was a Philosopher, and a Vein of Philosophy seems to run through the whole Work of his Pharsalia.  my Familiar Lucan told us, that the vanquishing Cause was pleasing to the Gods, but the vanquished to Cato: Know this then, that whatsoever thou seest done contrary to thy Hope or Expectation, that notwithstanding the Order of things is preserved right and entire; but to thy perverted Opinion it seemeth Confusion. But let us suppose that a Man may have behaved himself so well, that the Approbation of God and Man may both agree in him; but he is perhaps of a weak Courage: so that if any thing cross should befall him, he will forgo his Innocence, since with it he cannot retain his Fortune. The wise Dispensation of Providence than spareth him whom Adversity may make worse, lest he should be put to labour and travel, who is not able to undergo such Hardship, nor to bear Afflictions. Another Man is Master of all Virtues, is holy, and one who draws nigh to God: Providence judgeth it Injustice that that Man should be oppressed by any Adversity; so that it will not suffer him to labour even under any bodily Distemper: But as 
(r) One more excellent than I.] It is supposed that our Philosopher meaneth here Hermes Trismegistus: He was an Egyptian Philosopher, and called Trismegistus, that is, ter maximus, because he is said to have spoken of a Trinity in the Godhead, by Suidas; or because he was both a King, a Priest, and a Philosopher: He first distinguished Time into Hours; he lived in the time of Moses, about the Year of the World 2440.  one more excellent than I said, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ Virtues do build up the Body of the Holy Man. But it often comes to pass that good Men have the Government of things committed to them, that the exuberant Improbity of ill Men may be repelled and abated. To some, according to the Qualities of their Minds, he gives a kind of Mixture of Fortune, checkered with Good and Evil: Upon some he lays grievous heavy Crosses, lest they should grow luxurious by too long a Course of Felicity: Upon others he sometimes lays also heavy Crosses, that their Virtues may be confirmed by the Use and Exercise of Patience: Some fear more than they ought that thing which they can bear: Others despise more than they ought that which they cannot; and those, that by the Experiment they may come to the Knowledge of themselves, he sometimes afflicts. And many there are who have purchased a great Name in the World, at the Expense of a glorious Death. And some Men whose Courage hath not yielded to Torment, have given a noble Example to others, that Virtue is not to be overcome by Adversity. And there is no doubt but that all these things are done justly and in order, and for the Good of those to whom they happen. It also proceeds from the said Causes that sometimes Adversity, sometimes Prosperity, comes to be the Lot of ill Men. And it is the Wonder of no Man, that flagitious Persons should be afflicted, because they are always thought to deserve what comes upon them; and that their Punishment doth deter others from such Aims, and often work a Reformation in those on whom they are inflicted: But the Prosperity of such yields a great Argument to the Good, and directs them what to judge of this kind of Happiness, which they so often see to fall to the share of the worst of Men. In which thing I think often there is a Dispensation, because the Nature of some Men may be so forward and importunate, that Poverty, and the want of Necessaries, would rather urge them to do ill. But this Disease Providence doth cure by applying the powerful Medicine of Money. One Man finding his Conscience deeply spotted with Crimes, and comparing himself and his Fortune, fears perhaps that the Happiness which he enjoyed by the Use of it, should be wholly done away by its Loss; he will therefore change his Manners, and whilst he fears to lose his Estate he will leave his Impiety. Upon another Happiness is conferred without Desert, and that precipitates him into a merited Destruction. To some there is a Power of Punishing granted, that it may exercise the Virtues of the Good, and may be Cause of Punishment and Torment to the Evil. For as there is no Covenant or Agreement betwixt the Virtuous and the Wicked, so neither can wretched Men agree amongst themselves. And why should they? for they disagree amongst themselves by reason of their Vices, which rend and tear the Conscience; and they often do those things, which when they are over, they judge they ought not to have done them. From whence Providence hath often produced a signal Miracle, to wit, that evil Men have oft made other ill Men good: For when some of these find that they have suffered an Injury from others of them, urged by the Hate of those that have offended them, they have returned to the Ways of Virtue, studying nothing more than to be unlike to those Persons whom they hate. It is only the great Power of God which can make Evil turn to Good, when by using them agreeably and conveniently he draws out of them the Effect of some Good: For a certain Order embraceth all Being's, so that whatsoever doth departed from the Reason and Laws of that Order which is assigned to it, yet it passeth into and under the Laws of another Order; for nothing is left in the Power of Chance or Uncertainty in the Realm of Providence. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. It is hard for me to express how God rules and disposeth all things by his Providence. Nor is it lawful for a Man (if he could) to comprehend all the Machine's and Movements of the Divine Work, even in his Thought, much less to declare and describe them in Words. Let it suffice to have seen only this, that God, the Framer of all Natures, orders and disposeth every thing towards Good; and whilst he endeavours to retain those things which he hath made in his own Likeness, he banisheth all Evil by the Course of Destiny, without the Bounds of his Commonwealth. Hence it is that if thou dost but regard the all-disposing Providence, thou mayst easily see, that there are not those Evils which Men believe do abound upon the Face of the Earth. But now I see that thou dost almost lie down under the Weight and Prolixity of my Reasoning; and that thou dost expect the Music of my Verse: receive then this Draught with which when thou art refreshed, thou mayst more strongly proceed to other Matters which yet remain.   

METRUM VI  
Si vis celsi jura tonantis  
Purâ solers cernere ment,  
Aspice summi culmina Coeli, etc.  
If with a Mind well-cleared thou wouldst  
Weigh well the Laws of the high Thunderer,  
Behold the Height of th' Empyrean Heaven;  
There by a just and certain Bound the Stars  
Preserve their ancient Peace and Amity.  
The Sun being moved by his resplendent Flame  
Doth not impede pale Phoebe's colder Sphere.  
Nor doth the Northern Bear, which proudly round  
The towering Battlements of th' Universe  
Inclines his head long Course, ever desire  
To drench his Flames in the vast Ocean,  
Although he sees the other Stars do so.  
Vesper observing Time, exactly leads  
The Horns of Night, and Lucifer again  
Brings on the Day, which cherisheth the Earth.  
So mutual Love doth all things ever move:  
And from the starry Regions cruel War  
Is banished far. This beauteous Concord so  
In equal Measures tempers th' Elements;  
That when things moist and dry begin to fight,  
They do attack and do retreat by turns;  
That Cold with Heat a lasting Peace doth make;  
That the aspiring Flame may mount on high,  
And that the Earth may towards its Centre tend.  
By these same Causes in the warming Spring  
The flowering Year doth grateful Sweets breathe out,  
The hotter Summer ripeneth the Corn:  
Loaden with Apples than Autumnus comes,  
And Winter wets the Earth with many Showers.  
This Temperature doth nourish and bring forth  
Whatever in the Universe doth breath:  
And this doth also take away and bide,  
And doth by Death efface whatever has been born,  
Whilst the World's Creator sits on high,  
And ruling mesnageth the Reins of things,  
The mighty King and Lord, Fountain and Source,  
The Law, and the wise Judge of Equity,  
Those things to which he did a Motion give  
He stops, and thus being moved, he doth confirm.  
For if their direct Motions he did not  
Revoke, and forced them in a Round to move,  
Those things which now by Order do endure  
Would strait from their Beginning fall, and soon  
Would into nothing be resolved.  
This Love to every thing is common then,  
And all things do propose Good as their End;  
For otherwise they could not last, unless  
By Love's kind Circulation they revert  
To that first Cause, which gave them Being, God.   

PROSA VII.  Phil. 
DOST thou not see now what follows from all the things which I have spoken.  Bo. 
What is the Consequence?  Ph. 
That all Fortune is good.  Bo. 
And how, I prithee, can that be?  Ph. 
Observe then that since all Fortune is either prosperous or adverse, it is given either to reward or exercise the Good, or to punish or correct the Bad; and all Fortune is good which appears to be either just or profitable.  Bo. 
The Reason is most true, and if I consider the Doctrine either of Providence or Fate, which a little before thou taughtest me, thy Opinion is founded upon a firm Ground. But let us range it, if thou pleasest, amongst those Positions which, a little before, thou saidst were not commonly believed by the People.  Ph. 
Why so?  Bo. 
Because it is the common and frequent Phrase of Men, that the Fortune of such an one is bad.  Ph. 
Wilt thou then that I shall for a while draw nearer to the People's way of Discourse, lest we should seem too much to have receded from the Usages of Mankind?  Bo. 
As thou pleasest.  Ph. 
Thinkest thou not then that every thing which is profitable is good?  Bo. 
Yes surely.  Ph. 
But whatsoever doth either exercise or correct is profitable.  Bo. 
I confess it.  Ph. 
Therefore 'tis good.  Bo. 
Why should it not?  Ph. 
But this is the Fortune of them who are either fixed in Virtue, and wage a constant War against Adversity, or of those who, abandoning Vice, take the way of Virtue.  Bo. 
I cannot deny it.  Ph. 
But what sayest thou of that pleasant Fortune which is given as a Reward to good Men, do the Many conceive it to be ill?  Bo. 
Certainly no, but rather they believe it to be very good, as it is indeed.  Ph. 
But what sayest thou of that other, which although it be sharp, and inflicts just Punishment upon the Wicked, do Men take it to be good?  Bo. 
No sure, but rather the most wretched and tormenting thing that can be thought upon.  Ph. 
Behold then, and mark well, if we, following the Opinion of the People, have not concluded something which is very contrary to the common Opinion.  Bo. 
What is that?  Ph. 
It followeth clearly to the things before granted, that whatsoever the Fortune of all those who are either in possession of, or growing in Virtue, or otherwise in search after her, may be, it is good; but that the Fortune of those who live in Impiety and Sin must be the worst of any thing.  Bo. 
That is true, although no one dare confess it.  Ph. 
Why so, for the wise Man ought not to be cast down when he is brought into the Field to wage War with Fortune, no more than the valiant Man ought to be dismayed when he hears the Trumpet sound to Battle: For Difficulty and Hardship giveth the Occasion to one that he may increase and propagate his Glory; and to the other, that he may confirm and improve his Wisdom. From hence is Virtue denominated, because leaning upon its own Strength, and confiding in its proper Force, it is not to be overcome by Adversity: Nor thou who art so far advanced in the Course of Virtue, art not to be carried away by Delights, and to wallow in Lust; thou must engage valiantly and fiercely against every Fortune. And lest Adversity should oppress thee, or Prosperity corrupt thee, possess thyself of the Golden Mean, and retain it with all thy Strength: For whatsoever is below, or goeth beyond that, implies a Contempt of true Happiness, and loseth the Reward of its Labour. It lieth in thy own Hand to choose what Fortune thou likest; for all Fortune which seemeth sharp and grievous, unless it exercise the Virtues of the Good, or chastise the Impiety of the Wicked, is a Punishment.   

METRUM VII.  
Bella bis quinis operatus annis  
Ultor Atreides Phrygiae ruinis  
Fratris amissos thalamos piavit, etc.  

By ten Years bloody War, and 
(s) Phrygia.] It is a Region of the Lesser Asia, situated towards the West, according to Ptolemy and Strabo.  Phrygia's Fate  

(t) Atreides] Agamemnon. Paris the Son of Priam King of Troy having equipped a Fleet, went into Greece to visit Menelaus' King of Sparta, and against the Laws of Hospitality stole away his Wife; which Agamemnon the Son of Atreus, and Brother of the aforesaid Menelaus, very much resenting, he did call together the Grecian Chieftains, and sailing into Phrygia, besieged Troy; and having taken it, after a Siege of ten Years, destroyed it with Fire and Sword. The same Agamemnon when he was going upon this Expedition, when he arrived at Aulis a Port of Boeotia, and had made a Review of his Army, did ignorantly kill an Hart which had been consecrated to Diana; with which the Goddess being offended, did send a Pestilence, and suppressed the Winds, so that he laid Wind-bound in the Haven. He consulted in this Exigence the Oracle, which gave for Answer, that the Gods would not be appeased till he had sacrificed Iphigenia his Daughter; Agamemnon obeyed, and himself performed the Office of the Priest, by sacrificing his Daughter; so that after many Labours and Perils he accomplished his Enterprise. Hence Virgil. Aeneid. lib. 2. 
Saepe fugam Danai Troja cupiere relictâ  
Moliri, & longo fessi discedere bello,  
Fecissentque utinam! saepe illos aspera Ponti  
Interclusit byems, & terruit Auster ●…untes.  
Praecipuè cum jam hic trabibus contextus acernis  
Staret equus, toto fonuerunt aethere nimbi:  
Suspensi Eurypylum scitatum Oracula Phoebi  
Mittimus; isque adytis haec tristia dicta reportat:  
Sanguine placastis ventos, & virgine caesâ.  
Cum primum Iliacas Danai venistis ad oras, etc.   Atreides did revenge, and expiate  
His Brother's Loss. Whilst his unquiet Mind  
Pressed him to sail, with Blood he buys a Wind  
For the Argolick Fleet, he puts off all  
Compassion, and vows his Daughter shall  
A Victim to the injured Goddess fall.  
The wise Ulysses did with Tears lament  
His slaughtered Friends, whom 
(u) Polyphemus.] Feigned to be one of the Cyclops, and the Son of Neptune, a huge Giant, who had but one Eye, and that feigned to be in his Forehead: He took Ulysses and four of his Company, and kept them in his Den; he devoured his Companions, but Ulysses having a Bottle of strong Wine, he gave it to him to drink, which cast him into a deep Sleep; so that Ulysses with his Staff put out his Eye, and made his Escape.  Polyphemus   

Devoured by him down to the Shades; but he sent  
Appeased their Manes, putting out the Eye  
Of that great Monster, whilst he in his Den  
Did lie at Ease, buried in Sleep and Wine.  
His many Labours consecrate to Fame  
The Great 
(w) Alcides.] Philosophy proveth by the Example of Hercules, that Heaven and Immortality are not to be attained to but by the undergoing of many afflicting Labours upon Earth. He was feigned to be the Son of Jupiter and Alcmene, and therefore hated by Juno, who exercised him still with new Toils and Adventures.  Alcides, and his mighty Name.  
The 
(x) The Centauris.] This was the first Labour of Hercules. The Centauris were People of Thessaly, inhabiting the Country joining upon the Mountain Pelion, who first attempted to make Horses tame, and to fight upon them: For this Reason they were looked upon by their Neighbours to be Monsters, and to have the Parts both of Men and Horses. Hercules setting upon these People, overcame and slew many of them.  Centauris, and the 
(y) The Lion.] In the Nemaean Wood, which was a wild Part of the Country of Achaia, there was a Lion of an extraordinary Greatness, which was invulnerable by any Weapon made either of Iron or Brass: but Hercules attacking him, killed him with his Hands, and clothed himself with his Skin. This was his second Labour.  Lion he o'erthrew,  
And took the Spoil; he the foul 
(z) The Harpies.] They were feigned to be Birds of so great Dimension, hover always about a Town called Stymphalus in Arcadia, that they darkened the Sun; and so ravenous, that they spoilt the whole Country about. Hercules is said to have invented a Timbrel or sounding Instrument of Brass, and to have driven them all away: which was his third Labour. 
— Vncisque timendae  
Vnguibus Arcadiae volucres Stymphâla colentes.  Lucret. lib. 5.  Harpies slew:  

(a) Though in the Door, etc.] His fourth Labour was this: The Hesperideses, Daughters of Hesperus, who was Brother of Atlas, viz. Egle, Arethusa and Hesperethusa, were feigned to have possessed Gardius, lying near to Lixa, called now by the Europeans L'arache, a Town of Mauritania Tingitana, which takes its Denomination from Tingis, now Tangier, which were planted with Trees which produced Golden Fruit, and which were guarded by a waking Dragon; which Dragon Hercules slew, and carried the Fruit to Euristheus his Father-in-law.  Though in the Door the watchful Dragon lay,  
He boldly took the Golden Fruit away:  
He made grim 
(b) Cerberus.] Pirithous, the Son of Ixion: his Wife Hippodame being dead, made an Agreement with Theseus, that they should marry none who were not descended from Jupiter. Upon this Theseus stole away Helena; and Pirithous designing to take away Proserpina the Wife of Pluto, went down to Hell, Theseus and Hercules accompanying him; but Pirithous upon his first Attempt was killed by Cerberus, whom Theseus endeavouring to help, was taken alive by Pluto, and was bound by him till Hercules bound Cerberus in a threefold Chain. This was his fifth Labour.  Cerberus to a Chain submit;  
He overthrew the mighty 
(c) Diomedes.] He was King of Thracia, and fed his Horses with Man's Flesh; Hercules slew him, and gave him to his Horses to be eaten. This was his sixth Labour. From whence Ovid, 
Non tibi succurrit crudi Diomedis imago  
Efferus humanâ qui dape pavit equos.   Diomedes,  
And made his fiery Horses on him feed.  
He burned the Poison, and did 
(d) The seventh Labour of Hercules was the kill of Hydra. Videses Litt. (p) supra.  Hydra tame,  
The headlong 
(e) Achelous.] The eighth Labour of Hercules was this: Achelous, feigned to be the Son of Oceanus and Tethys, fought with Hercules for Deianira the Daughter of Oeneus King of Caledonia; but Achelous being unequal in Strength to him, turned himself first into a Serpent, then into a Bull, but Hercules cut of his Horn, which became the Cornu copiae, or Horn of Plenty, which made Achelous, being ashamed to appear with one Horn, to hid himself in a River of his Name.  Achelous he o'ercome,  
Blushing within his Banks he hide his Head.  
On Libyan Sands he left 
(f) Antaeus.] He was feigned to be the Son of Neptune and the Earth, and to be of so large Dimensions that he was said to be of the Height of sixty four Cubits: He engaging in Fight with Hercules, so often as his Strength failed him touched the Earth, and recovered Strength, which when Hercules perceived, he lifted him up into the Air, and so killed him, which was his ninth Labour.  Antaeus' dead:  
He by the Death of 
(g) Cacus.] The tenth Labour which Hercules did accomplish was killing of Cacus, feigned to be the Son of Vulcan, and who infested all Italy with his Robberies, and did not spare Hercules himself; for he stole his Oxen; and that he might not be discovered by their Footsteps, he drew them by the Tails into his Cave: but Hercules discovering them by their Lowing, recovered his , and killed Cacus, revenging an Injury which Cacus had done to Evander, whose Guest or Servant he had been.  Cacus did appease  
Evander's Wrath: the foaming 
(h) The Boar.] The Erymanthian Boar in Arcadia, which was so large and fierce that it almost had depopulated the whole Country: Hercules brought this Boar to Euristeus King of Micene in Greece, which was his eleventh Labour.  Boar did seize:  
Those Shoulders which the 
(i) The Spheres.] Atlas is an high Hill of Mauritania, which stretcheth itself through a great Part of Africa, from the Atlantic Ocean, called so from this Mountain, as far Eastward as the Confines of the Deserts of Barca: It is called now by the Spaniards Los Montes Claros; by other Europeans the Mountain Atlas. It received its Name from Atlas a King of Mauritania, who because he was a great Astronomer, and, as it is said, Inventor of Astrology, was feigned to bear the Heavens upon his Shoulders, by maintaining and propagating the Science of it. Hercules is fabled for one Day to have eased Atlas of that Weight, for which he merited an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and to be admitted into the Society of the Gods. From whence therefore this is called his last and noblest Labour.  Spheres were soon to press,  
That both his last and noblest Labour was;  
And he did merit to be called a God,  
Who did support so glorious a Load.  
Go then, ye noble Souls, disdain Delay,  
Fellow the great Example in his way:  
Why, O ye slothful, do ye basely fly?  
Who conquers Earth doth gain Eternity.   
The End of the Fourth Book.    

ANICIUS MANLIUS SEVERINUS BOETIUS, OF THE Consolation of Philosophy. BOOK the Fifth.  
The ARGUMENT.  
In this Book Boetius defineth Chance: He declareth whether there be  or not, and what is the Order of Providence; and he describeth the Methods of Destiny in the Administration of things. He than proveth that the Prescience of God doth not take away the Liberty of Men; which whole Question he handles and solves with most solid Reasons.  

PROSA I.  
THUS she had spoken, and turned her Discourse to handle and dispatch some other Matters; when I thus bespoke her. Thy Exhortation is most just and right, and most worthy of thy Authority: But what thou but now sayest, to wit, that the Question concerning Providence was entangled with many others, I find by Experience to be true: Therefore I now ask, if Chance be any thing at all, and if it be, what thou takest it to be?  Ph. 
I hasten to pay the Debt of my Promise, and to open that way to thee which may lead thee back to thy Country. But although it may be very profitable, and much to thy Advantage to know these things, yet they lead us out of our designed way: And it is to be feared that if thou shouldst be tired by pursuing these By-paths, that is, by discussing Questions foreign to our Subject, thou wouldst not be able to perform thy Journey in following the right Road.  Bo. 
Fear not that at all; for it will as much refresh me as Rest, to know those things in which I am most delighted, since there is no Reason to doubt of the things following, when every part of thy Disputation shall have been grounded upon undoubted Truth and Certainty.  Ph. 
I will then comply with thee: If any Man doth define Chance to be an Event produced by a rash Motion, and without any connection of Causes, I then affirm that Chance is nothing, and I pronounce it to be an empty Word, without any signification of the subject Matter; for who can imagine, that God restraining all things by Order, there should be any Place left for rash Folly and Disorder? For it is a great Truth, that nothing can spring out of nothing; which none of the Ancients ever opposed, although they understood it not of God, the operating Principle, the chief Beginner, and Worker of all things; but they made a kind of a Foundation of a material Subject, that is, of the Nature of all Reason: But if any thing doth arise from no Causes, that will seem to spring out of nothing. But if this cannot be done, it is impossible that Chance should be any such thing as it is before defined.  Bo. 
What then is there nothing which may rightly be called Chance or Fortune? Or is there any thing, although concealed from the Vulgar, to which these Words may be applied?  Ph. 
My Aristotle, in his Physics, gives this a brief Definition, and with a Reason near to Truth.  Bo. 
How I pray thee doth he define it?  Ph. 
So often as a Man doth any thing, for the sake of any other thing, and another thing than that he intended to do, is produced by other Causes, that thing so produced is called Chance: As if a Man break up the Earth upon the account of Tillage, and find there Gold hidden, this is believed to happen by Chance, although it be not so: for it hath its proper Causes; the unforeseen and unexpected Concourse of which seemeth to have brought forth Chance: for if the Husbandman had not ploughed his Field, and if the Hider of the Gold had not hid it in that Place, the Gold had not been found. These are therefore the Causes of a fortuitous Gain and Advantage, which proceed from a Conflux of encountering Causes, and not from the Intention of the Doer: For neither he who hide the Gold, nor he who tilled the Field, intended or understood that that Treasure should be found there: But, as I said, it happened that the one did dig where the other had hid his Money; and so these Actions concurring, the mentioned Effect was produced. Therefore Chance may be defined to be an unthought-of Event of Causes flowing together in things which are done to attain some other end: But that Order which proceeds by an unavoidable Connection of things, streaming from the Fountain of Providence, and which ranks all things according to Place and Time, maketh all Causes assemble and meet together.   

METRUM I.  
Rupis Achaemeniae scopulis, ubi versa sequentum  
Pectoribus figit spicula pugna fugax, etc.  

Swift 
(a) Tigris and Euphrates.] Tigris is denominated from its swift Flowing, its Name in the Persian Language signifying an Arrow. It is a River which riseth in the greater Armenia: Virgil mentioneth it in his 6th Eclogue. 
Ante pererratis amborum finibus exul  
Aut Ararim Parthus bibet, aut Germania Tigrim.  Euphrates is another River so called from the Pleasure and Profit it occasions to the Inhabitants of those Countries through which it passeth, by overflowing the Fields, and making them fruitful. If these Rivers do not arise out of the same Head, they certainly spring from one Mountain; and having for a great way taken their several Courses, they at last encompass Mesopotamia, and then joining their Streams they flow together into the Persian Gulf.  Tigris and Euphrates flow  
From th' 
(b) Achemenian.] Achemenia by some here is understood to be Armenia, and the Mountain out of which these Rivers flow is a Part of Mount Taurus.  Achemenian Mountains rocky Brow,  
Where in his Flight the 
(c) Parthians.] The Parthians were a People who descended from the Scythians, and stretched the Bounds of their Country to those Parts of Asia which were washed by the Rivers Tigris and Euphrates. These People were famous Archers, and used in their Battles, when they fled, to shoot their Arrows backward, and so to gall their Enemies; then turning their Horses, they would renew the Fight. Hence Virg. Georg. l. 3. Fidentemque fugâ Parthum, versisque sagittis.  Parthians nimble Dart  
Doth backward pierce the keen Pursuer's Heart,  
And soon again these mighty River's part.  
But if they in their Course should meet again,  
Whatever things do swim on either Stream  
Would flow together; Ships together steer,  
Trees float, which from their Banks the Water's tear,  
The mingled Floods would these together bear.   

Yet the declining Earth, and good  
Order, which in its Course directs the Flood,  
Governs these things. So though we often see  
Chance seem to wander unconfined and free,  
It owns a providential Law which curbs its Liberty.    

PROSA II.  Boet. 
I Understand this well, and I agree that what thou sayest is true: But is there, I pray thee, any Freedom allowed to our Wills in this long Train of cohering Causes, or doth the Chain of Destiny also bind the Motions of men's Souls?  Ph. 
There is a Freedom of the Will, nor was there ever any rational Nature which was not accompanied with it: For that which naturally hath the Use of Reason, hath also a Judgement by which it may judge of, and discern every thing. Of itself than it knoweth what things are to be avoided, and what to be desired: Now that thing which a Man judgeth to be desirable he seeks, and he refuseth that which he deems aught to be avoided; therefore whoever is endowed with Reason is also possessed of a Liberty of desiring and refusing. But I do not hold that this Liberty is equal in all Being's; for in supernal and divine Substances, such as Spirits and Angels are, there is a clear Judgement, and an incorrupt Will, and a ready and efficacious Power of doing things which are desired: But the Souls of Men must necessarily be more free when they continue to exercise themselves in the Contemplation of the Divine Mind; and they must be less so when they are withdrawn from that noble Speculation, and slide into corporal Substances; and yet less free when they are encompassed by, and closely bound up in earthly Members. But the last and meanest Slavery is, when they give themselves over to Vice, and so fall from the Possession of their proper Reason: for as soon as they remove their Eyes from the Light of the highest Truth, and fix them upon low, dark and base Objects, they are immediately wrapped in a Cloud of Ignorance, are disturbed with pernicious Desires and Affections; to which when they approach and agree, they help forward and increase that Servitude which they bring upon themselves; and in some manner, even under the Liberty proper to them, they are Captives. But yet the Eye of Providence, which beholds all things from Eternity, sees this, and disposeth, according to their Merits, all things as they are predestinated; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that is, 
Homer. Iliad. γ.  He seethe and heareth all things.   

METRUM II.  
Puro clarum lumine Phoebum  
Melliflui canit oris Homerus, etc.  
The sweet-tongued Homer's flowing Verse  
Doth sing of Phoebus, and his purer Light;  
Yet the Sun's Rays can never pierce  
Into Earth's Bowels, nor his Sight  
Reach to the secret Chambers of the Deep,  
Where Thetis doth her choicest Treasure keep.  
But with the World's great Maker 'tis not so;  
He all things from the Heights of Heaven doth see,  
Nor Earth nor Clouds impede, he'll know  
What is, what was, and what shall be:  
Since God doth every Being then alone  
Clearly behold, call him the Only Sun.   

PROSA III.  Boet. 
NOW I am distracted with a more difficult Doubt than ever.  Ph. 
What is that I pray thee? for I do conjecture at what thou art troubled.  Bo. 
It seems to be repugnant and adverse to Reason, that God should have a Foreknowledge of all things, and at the same time there should be any such thing as : For if God foresees all things, and can in no manner be deceived, then that which Providence hath foreseen must necessarily come to pass. Wherefore if from Eternity God doth not only foreknow the Deeds, but also the Counsels and Wills of Men, there can be no Liberty of Will; nor can there be any other Deed, or any other Will than that which Divine Providence, which can by no means be deceived, hath foreseen or forethought. For if things may fall out contrary to such Foreseeing, and be wrested another way, there can be no firm Prescience of Futurities, but rather an uncertain Opinion of them; and I take it to be impious to believe this of God. Nor do I approve of that Reason by which some think themselves able to unloose the Knot of this Question: For they say that a thing is not necessarily to happen, because God hath foreseen that it will be; but rather on the contrary, because a thing is to happen, it cannot lie hid from the Divine Providence; and so the Necessity slides upon the other side, it not being necessary that those things should happen which are foreseen, though it be so that those things should be foreseen which are to happen: And it is just as if Men busied themselves to inquire which thing is the Cause of which thing, as whether Prescience be the Cause of the Necessity of things to come, or otherwise the Necessity of things to come were the Cause of Providence. But I shall now endeavour to evince by Demonstration, that however the Order of Causes may stand, the Event of things foreseen is necessary, although Prescience doth not seem to impose a Necessity upon future things to fall out. For if a Man sit, the Opinion of him that conjectures that he doth sit, must necessarily be true. And again, on the contrary, if that Opinion be true of any one, because he sits, it is of necessity true that he doth sit. In both of these then there is a Necessity lodged; for in one is the Necessity of Sitting, and in the other is that of Truth: But a Man doth not therefore sit because the Opinion of his sitting is true; but the Opinion is rather true, because the Man did sit before. So that although the Cause of Truth ariseth from the other part, yet there is in both a common Necessity seated. Thus may we reason also concerning Providence and future Events: For if therefore because things are future they are foreseen, they are not therefore because they are foreseen to arrive: Nevertheless it is necessary that things to come should be foreseen of God; or if foreseen, that they should happen: and this thing alone is enough to destroy the Doctrine of . But how preposterous a thing is it now, that the Event of temporal things should be said to be the Cause of eternal Prescience? For what other thing is it to imagine that God doth foresee future things because they are to happen, than to imagine that what hath happened before hath been the Cause of God's all-searching Providence? Add also to this, that when I know that any thing is, it is necessary that it should be. So also when I know that such a thing shall come, that must of necessity arrive. Hence it therefore follows that the Event of a foreknown thing cannot be avoided. Lastly, if any Man doth think otherwise of a thing than it really is, that is not only not Knowledge, but a false Opinion, differing far from the Truth of Knowledge. Wherefore if any thing be so to come that its Arrival be not certain and necessary, how can it be foreseen that it will come? For as pure Knowledge is not mingled and confounded with Falsity; so also that thing which is conceived by it, and derived from it, can be no otherwise than according to its Conception. And this is the Cause that Science abhors Lies and Falsity, and cannot be mistaken in what it knows, because it is necessary that every thing should be so as that comprehends it to be. What follows then? In what manner doth God know these uncertain Contingencies? For if he believes that a thing shall inevitably fall out, which possibly may not fall out, he is deceived; but to believe or to speak this, is impiously to blaspheme. But if Providence discerneth that so as things are to come; they shall come; so that he knows that many may or may not be done, what then is this Foreknowledge, which comprehends nothing certain, nothing stable? Or what doth this differ from the ridiculous Divination of 
(d) Tiresias.] He was a Prophet of Thebes, who was feigned to be made blind by Juno, and to be endowed with the Faculty of Prophesying by Jupiter. Hence Hor. l. 2. Sermon. Sat. 5. 
Hoc quoque, Tiresia, praeter narrata, petenti  
Respond: quibus amissas reparare queam res  
Artibus atque modis.  
— O nulli quicquam mentite, vides, ut  
Nudus inopsque domum redeam, te vate.  This Prophet used to speak ambiguously, as others who pretended to that Gift did, and was used to say, Quicquid dicam aut erit, aut non: When Horace in the same Place; 
O Laertiade, quicquid dicam aut erit, aut non:  
Divinare etenim magnus mihi donat Apollo.   Tiresias? who said, Quicquid dicam aut erit aut non: All that I shall say shall either happen or shall not. Or how much doth Divine Providence differ from humane Opinion, if it make uncertain Judgements of things, as Men do, the Events whereof are not certain. But if there can be nothing of Uncertainty in him who is the sure Fountain of all things, the Event of those things must be certain which he firmly did know before would happen. Whence it follows that Men have no Freedom in their Counsels and Actions; which the Divine Mind, foreseeing all things, without Falsity or Error, doth strongly bind, and necessarily oblige to one Event. And if it be once granted that there is no Freedom of Will, it is very evident how great the Confusion, and how mighty the Distraction will be of humane Affairs: For in vain are Rewards and Punishments proposed to the Virtuous and Flagitious, which have not been deserved by any free and voluntary Motion of the Soul. And that which is now adjudged to be the most just, will be esteemed the most unequal thing in the World, which is, that evil Men should be punished, and the good rewarded, whom their proper Will doth not incline either to Virtue or Vice, but who are by a certain Necessity imposed upon Futurities, compelled and thrust forwards towards both. Nor would there be such things as Virtue or Vice, but rather an undistinguished Mixture and Confusion of all Rewards. And from this also it will follow, that since all Order is derived from Providence, and that nothing is left free to the Counsels and Intentions of Men, that also our Vices shall be referred to the Author of all Good, than which no Opinion can be more impious. And of this it will also be a Consequence, that Men shall have no Reason either to hope for any thing from God, or to pray to him: For, for what should any Man either hope or pray, since the Series and the unalterable Course of Destiny knitteth all things together which are desirable? Therefore that only Commerce and Alliance which is betwixt God and Men, I mean the Liberty of Hoping and Praying, shall be abolished, and quite extinguished. For at the just Price of Humility and Virtue we deserve the inestimable Reward of Divine Grace: And these are the only Means, to wit, Hope and Prayer, by which Men seem to have Power to speak with God, and to be advanced and joined to the inaccessible Light, even before they obtain their Requests. And if Men believe that Hope and Prayer have no Power, because of the Necessity of future Events, what thing is there then by which we may be united, and may hold fast to God the Prince and Director of all things? Wherefore Mankind must of necessity, as thou didst sing a little before, be dissevered and disjoined from its Good, and must shrink from its Beginning.   

METRUM III.  
Quaenam discors foedera rerum  
Causa resolvit? etc.  
Tell me what disagreeing Cause  
Loosens the Bands, and from their Laws  
All Being's frees? what powerful Hand  
Doth make the two 
(e) Great Truths.] They are the Divine Providence, and the Free Will of Man.  great Truths contend,  
Which separate, subsist, and be,  
Yet when they're joined do disagree?  
Tell me, can Truths than never differ,  
And do they still agree together?  
The Mind, with Members clothed, and Night,  
Can never, with her darkened Sight,  
Bring the close Bonds of things to light.  
But why doth Man disturb his Mind  
The hidden Notes of Truth to find?  
Knows he what he to know desires?  
But who for what is known inquires?  
If not, what blindly seeks he? Who  
Wisheth for that he doth not know?  
Or in pursuit of it why doth he go?  
Or if he seek, where shall he find  
The Thing? or if Chance be so kind  
To show it to him, how shall he  
When found, know what its Form should be:  
Or when the Soul doth God behold,  
Can it all Principles unfold?  
But whilst in Flesh it now is hid,  
It doth not quite itself forget;  
With it the Sums of things remain,  
Though it Particulars doth not retain.  
Who to seek Truth then doth advance,  
Is not in either Circumstance:  
For every thing he knoweth not,  
Nor hath he wholly all forgot:  
But of what to his Thought doth come  
He recollects and weighs the Sum,  
That he may add those Parts which he  
Hath lost, to those kept in his Memory.   

PROSA iv  Phil. 
THIS is the old Complaint against Providence, and the Question hath been much agitated and canvased by 
(f) M. T. Cicero.] Videas lib. 2. de Divinatione.  Marcus Tullius Cicero, in his Book of Divination; and thou thyself hast considered it much and long, and made deep Researches into it, but it hath not yet been diligently and thoroughly determined by any of you. And the Cause of these Difficulties is, that the Motions of humane Ratiocination and Discourse cannot approach to the Purity of the Divine Prescience, which if Men would any way comprehend, there would be no doubt or scruple left: Which Difficulties I shall endeavour to clear to you, and remove, when I have explained and answered those Reasons by which thou hast been moved. For I ask why thou dost not think the Reasons of those who attempt to solve this Question efficacious and satisfactory; which because they cannot maintain that Prescience is a necessary Cause of things to come, think that  is nothing hindered by Prescience? Let me ask, dost thou draw an Argument of the Necessity of future things from any other Topick than this, that those things which are foreknown cannot but come to pass? If therefore Foreknowledge imposeth no Necessity upon future things, as thou thyself a little before didst confess, what is it which may constrain the voluntary End of things to a certain Event? Now for Argument-sake, that thou mayst better understand what Will follow, let us suppose that there is no Prescience: Shall therefore, as much I mean as in that lies, those things which proceed from , be constrained to submit to the Laws of Necessity?  Bo. 
No certainly.  Ph. 
Let us then again suppose that there is such a thing as Prescience, but that it doth not bind things by Necessity; the same entire and absolute Liberty of the Will will, I think, remain. But thou wilt say, that although the Prescience of things to come doth not intimate a Necessity of their coming, yet it is a Sign that they will necessarily happen. In this manner although Prescience had never been, the Events of future things would certainly be necessary: For every Sign signifieth only what a thing may be, but it doth not effect the thing which it designeth. Wherefore it must first be demonstrated; that nothing happeneth but of Necessity, that it may appear that Prescience is a Sign of that Necessity. Otherwise if there be no Necessity, that Foreknowledge can be no Sign of that which is not. And now it appears that this Proof is supported with firm Reason, and not by Signs and Arguments drawn from without, but from agreeing and necessary Causes. But how can it then happen, that those things which are foreseen should not fall out? As if we should not believe that those things will happen which Providence foreknows are to come; and that we should not rather think, that though they do happen, yet there is nothing in their own Nature of Necessity which makes them to do so; which thou mayst easily perceive by what I shall say. We see many things when they are done before our Eyes; as what we see the Charioteer do in turning and winding of his Chariot; and so thou mayst imagine it is in all other things. Now is there any Necessity which compels these things to be done?  Bo. 
No certainly, for the Working and Effect of Art were vain if all things were moved by Compulsion.  Ph. 
The things then which are done are under no Necessity that they should be done; then first before they were done, they were to have arrived without Necessity. Wherefore some things come to pass whose Ends are absolved from all Necessity: For I do not think that any Man will say this, that what is done now, before it was done, was not to have happened. These things therefore, although foreknown, have free Events: For as the Knowledge of present things doth impose no Necessity upon things which are now done, no more doth the Foreknowledge of Futurities upon those which are to come. But of this very thing thou mayst say there is a doubt, as whether there can be any certain Prenotion of things which have no certain and necessary Events: for they seem to discord, since thou dost think that if they be foreseen, they must necessarily fall out; and if that Necessity fail, they cannot be foreseen; and that nothing can be comprehended by Science but what is certain. And if those things which are attended by no certain Event, are foreseen as if they were certain, that would create a Darkness and Obscurity of Opinion, but not a steady true Knowledge. And thou thinkest it not to be according to the Integrity and Manner of Science, to judge of things otherwise than they are. The Cause of which Error is, that whatsoever Man knows, he thinks his Knowledge is derived from the Power and Nature only of that which is known, whilst is quite the contrary: For every thing which is known, is comprehended not after the Power and Force of the thing, but rather after the Faculty of the Knower. And that this may be cleared by a short Example, the Sight doth one way perceive the same Roundness of a Body, and the Touch another. The Eye which is placed at a Distance beholds the whole together, and comprehendeth it at the same time with its Rays: But the other cleaving and being joined to the Orb, and moving about the Circuit, findeth out the Roundness by the Parts. And Man himself is one way looked upon by Sense, another way by the Imagination, another by Reason, another by the Understanding; for the Sense considers the Figure as it is constituted and directed in the subject Matter: The Imagination judgeth of the Figure alone without the Matter: But Reason transcends the other, and weighs with an universal Consideration the single Species; but the Eye of the Understanding soareth higher, for it surmounteth the universal Bounds, and runs distinctly over the very simple Form by Purity and Subtlety of Thought. In which that is mostly to be considered, that the superior Power of Comprehending doth embrace the inferior, but the Inferior can by no means mount up to the Superior: For the Sense can comprehend nothing which is not of Matter, nor doth the Imagination regard the universal Species, nor doth Reason comprehend the simple Form; but the Understanding which looketh as it were from above, when it hath conceived the Form, it judgeth also of all things which are under it, but it knows them in the same manner by which it comprehended the Form, which can be known to none of the other: For it knoweth the whole of Reason, the Figure of the Imagination, the sensible Matter, neither using Reason, the Imagination, nor the Senses; but, as I may say, with one Effort of Mind it bringeth all things formally within the Compass of its View. Reason also when she looketh upon any universal thing, using neither the Imagination nor the Senses, doth yet comprehend all imaginable and sensible things: For it is she who defineth the Universality of her Conception thus: Man is a rational Creature with two Feet; which though it be an universal Notion, no one yet is ignorant of Man's being an imaginable and sensible thing, which she considereth not by Imagination or Sense, but by a rational Conception. The Imagination also, although it deriveth its Power of seeing and forming Figures from the Senses, yet in the Absence, and without the Use of the Senses, it considers and comprehends all sensible things, not by a sensible, but by an imaginative way of Judging. Dost not thou see then, that all things in knowing use rather their own proper Faculties, than the Force or Powers of those things which are to be known? Nor is it unreasonable that it should be so; for since every Judgement is the Act of the Judger, it is necessary that every one should do his own Work by the Help of his own Faculties, and not by the Assistance of foreign Power.   

METRUM iv  
Quondam porticus attulit  
Obscuros nimium senes, etc.  
The 
(g) The Porch.] There was a Porch in Athens where some Philosophers did usually meet to dispute, and other People to hear News. Zeno, amongst the Ancients, was the first who took occasion to teach Philosophy in this Place; from whence his Disciples were called Stoics; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the Greek Language signifying Porch.  Porch did heretofore produce  
A kind of dark Philosophers,  
Who ignorantly did believe  
That all the Images of things,  
Obvious to Sense, imprinted were  
By outward Objects on the Mind:  
As heretofore with a swift Style  
Men used on waxed Tables smooth,  
And free from any Characters,  
Letters and Figures to engrave.  
But by its proper Motions if the Mind  
Can nothing do, nor yet explain,  
But only passively doth lie  
From outward Objects taking all  
Ideas, and its Figures, and presents,  
Like some dull Mirror to the Eye,  
The fainter Images of things;  
Whence doth the Knowledge then proceed  
By which the Mind doth all things comprehend?  
Whence is the Force which doth behold  
Each Being then? or whence is that  
Which doth divide those things when known?  
Or that again which recollects  
Divided things, changing its way  
Alternately, for sometimes it  
Raiseth its Head to higher things,  
Then to the lowest doth descend?  
And when t' itself it doth return,  
Confuteth false things by the true?  
This Cause now efficacious is,  
More powerful too than that which doth  
Admit the Characters impressed  
Like servile Matter; yet the Sense,  
Which in the living Body doth remain,  
Doth go before, and doth excite  
And move the Forces of the Mind:  
As when the Light doth strike the Eye,  
Or as the Voice doth strike the Ear:  
Then is the Force of Thought awaked,  
Calls out the Species which it hath within  
Itself, to move about and act,  
Applies them to the outward Notes,  
Mingling and joining all those Images  
Fixed in itself in foreign Forms.   

PROSA V  
BUT if in knowing and perceiving of Bodies, although the Qualities objected from without may affect the Instruments or Organs of the Senses, and the Passion or Suffering of the Body may go before the Strength and Vigour of the acting Soul, which may call forth the Act of the Mind or Thought residing within itself, and may in the mean time excite the Forms which lie quietly within: If, I say, in the perception of bodily things the Soul is not by the Impression of Passion made to know these things, but by its own Power judgeth of the Passion and Suffering of the Body, how much more than shall those things which are absolved and free from the Passions and Affections of Bodies, and from any Commerce with them, not in discerning, be guided by outward Objects, but accomplish and execute purely the Acts of their own Minds and Thoughts? By this Reason then there are several sorts of Knowing, to several and differing Substances: For Sense, which is alone destitute of all other Knowledge, is allotted to those Creatures which cannot move; such as are Shells of the Sea, and other things which are nourished by sticking to the Rocks. But the imaginative Power is possessed by Beasts, which can move of themselves, and who seem to have some kind of Faculty of desiring or refusing things; but Reason is the Talon of Mankind alone, as Intelligence only appertains to the Divine Nature. Hence it is that that Knowledge exceeds all other, which by its own Nature is not only acquainted with the Matter of that which properly belongs to it, but also with that which is subjected to all others. But how will it then fall out, if Sense and Imagination oppose and are contrary to Reason, affirming that that Universal is nothing which Reason thinks it so perfectly sees? For Sense intimates that that which is sensible and imaginable, cannot be universal: Then therefore the Judgement of Reason must be true, that nothing can be sensible: Or else, because she knows that many things are subject to Sense and Imagination, the Conception of Reason must be vain, which considereth that which is sensible and singular as an Universal. But if Reason should again answer to those things, and say, that she truly comprehends what is sensible and imaginable within the Compass of Universality; but yet she cannot aspire to the Knowledge of Universality, because Knowledge of the former cannot exceed corporeal Figures: But as to the Knowledge of things, we ought to give Belief to the more firm and perfect Judgement of them. In a Contest of this kind therefore, ought not we who have in us all the Powers of Reason, Imagination, and Sense, rather to approve and support the Cause of Reason? Like this it is, when humane Reason imagines that the Divine Understanding beholdeth or knoweth not things to come, but just as they are beheld or known by her. For thus thou arguest; What things do not seem to have certain and necessary Events, they cannot be foreknown certainly to happen. Of these things therefore there is no Foreknowledge; or if we believe that there be any, then is there nothing which doth not happen of Necessity. If therefore we might have the Judgement of the Divine Mind, as we are Partakers of Reason, we should judge as we have already judged, that Imagination and Sense ought to yield to Reason, and also judge that it is most just that humane Reason ought to submit itself to the Mind of God. Wherefore, if we may, let us advance ourselves to the Height of the highest Intelligence, and there Reason shall see that which she cannot find in herself; and that is, in what manner the Prescience of God seethe and defineth all things, although they have no certain Event; nor let this be looked upon as an Opinion, but rather the Purity and Simplicity of the Supreme Knowledge, which can be included within no Bounds.   

METRUM V  Quam variis terras animalia permeant figuris! Namque alia extento sunt corpore, pulveremque verrunt, etc. 
In Shapes how differing Creatures wander through the Earth!  
Some with extended Bodies go, and sweep the Dust,  
And by th' Impression of their Breasts a Furrow make.  
Some beat the yielding winds with nimbleness of wing,  
And with a moister Flight swim through the Air;  
Some with their Feet affect to press the softer ground,  
Or in the verdant Meads, or in green Woods to walk.  
Yet though thou seest them differ in their various Forms,  
They do in this together centre and agree,  
That their Looks downward bend, their heavier Sense makes dull.  
But Man alone doth raise his noble Head on high,  
Light, and erect he stands, and doth despise the Earth.  
Thou art admonished by this Figure then, unless  
Thy earthly Mind doth thee deceive, that whilst towards  
The Heavens thy Face thou raisest, and thy Forehead dost  
Advance, thou shouldst advance thy Mind on high,  
Lest, whilst thy Body towards the starry Regions looks,  
Thy noble Mind should towards the Centre be depressed.   

PROSA VI  Phil. 
BEcause therefore, as I have demonstrated a little before, that every thing which is known, is not by its own Nature known, but by that of him who comprehendeth it, let us now behold, as far as it is lawful for Philosophers, what the Estate is of the Divine Substance, that we may better see what this Knowledge is. It is the common Judgement then of all those who live by the Rules of Reason, that God is Eternal: Let us then consider what Eternity is, for this would lay open to us, at the same time, the Nature of God and his Knowledge. Eternity therefore is a total and a perfect Possession of a Life which shall never have an End; which appears more clearly from the Comparison of temporal things: For whatsoever liveth in time, proceedeth to the present, from what is passed to what is to come: And there is nothing under the Laws of Time, which can at once comprehend the whole Space of its Life. For a Man doth not yet possess to Morrow; and what was Yesterday he hath already lost; and in the Life of this Day you live no more but as in this passing and transitory flowing Moment. Whatever therefore is subject to a temporal Condition, although, as Aristotle thought of the World, it never began to be, nor shall ever have end, but its Life shall be drawn out to an Infinity of Time, yet it is not that which Men may rightly judge to be Eternal: for although it comprehends the Space of an infinite Life, yet it doth not embrace altogether at the same time; for it wants the future things which are not yet arrived. Whatsoever then comprehends and possesses together, and at the same time the Fullness of an endless Life, which wants nothing of Futurity, and from which nothing that is passed is escaped, ought justly to be esteemed Eternal: For it is necessary that that should always be present to itself, and Master of itself, and that it have always with it the Infinity of movable Time. Therefore they err, who when they heard that Plato believed that this World neither had Beginning, nor shall have End, in this manner they make that which is created, Coeternal with its Creator: For it is one thing to be led on through an interminable Life, which Plato granted to the World, and another to comprehend at the same time together the Presence of such an one, which it is manifest is only proper to God. Nor ought it to seem to us that God is ancienter than the created World by quantity of Time, but rather by the simple Propriety of his Nature. The infinite Motion of temporal things imitates the present State of immovable Life: and since it can neither counterfeit nor equal it, from Immobility it passeth into Motion; from the Simplicity of a present, it goeth into an infinite Quantity of future and past Time: And since it cannot together possess the Fullness of itself; yet in this, since it never ceaseth in some measure to be, it seems faintly to emulate that, to whose Perfection it cannot attain, and which it cannot fully express, binding itself to some kind of Presence of this small and swift Moment; which, because it bears some Resemblance of that durable and present Time, it giveth to those things to which it happens a seeming Existence. And because this small Moment may not stay, it doth therefore proceed in the infinite way of Time. And hence it is that it continues itself in Progression, to the Fullness of which it could not attain by being fixed. If then we would, following Plato, impose Names suitable to things, let us say, that God is only Eternal, and the World is Perpetual. Since then every Judgement comprehends those things which are subject to it, according to its own Nature, there must always be allowed to God an eternal and ever present State: His Knowledge also exceeding all the Motions of Time, remaineth in the Pureness and Simplicity of its Presence, containing the infinite Spaces of present and past Time, and considereth all things by the Purity of that Knowledge, as if they were now doing. If therefore thou wouldst rightly consider of that Prescience by which he fore-knoweth all things, thou shalt not esteem it as a Foreknowledge of what is to come, but more rightly thou wilt find it to be the Knowledge of the present, and never failing NOW. Therefore it is not to be called Praevidentia, but rather Providentia; which being placed far above all inferior things, doth as it were behold all from the very Heights of the World. What is it then that thou wouldst have, that these things should be attended by a necessary Event, which are viewed by the Divine Eye, since Men do not make those things necessary which they behold? For doth thine Eye which beholdeth a present thing, add any thing of Necessity to it?  Bo. 
No, it doth not.  Ph. 
But if Men do make a just Comparison betwixt the Divine and Humane Prescience, then as you see something by your temporal one, God seethe all things by his eternal one. Therefore this Divine Foresight doth not change the Nature and Property of things, but only beholds those things as present to him, which shall in time be produced: Nor doth it confound the Judgement of things, but knoweth at one View what is necessarily, and what is not necessarily to arrive. So you, when at the same time you see a Man walk upon the Earth, and the Sun to rise in the Heaven, although both were seen at the same time, yet you discern and judge that the Action of the one was voluntary, and that of the other was a necessary one: So therefore the Eye of God looking down and beholding all things under him, doth not at all disturb the Qualities of things, which to him are present, but, in respect of Time, to you are future. Hence it is that this is not an Opinion, but a certain Knowledge grounded upon Truth, that when God knoweth that any thing is to be, at the same time he knoweth it not to be under a Necessity of existing. And here if thou sayest, that what God doth foresee shall happen, it cannot but happen; and that which cannot do otherwise than happen, must of Necessity come to pass, and so must bind me to a Necessity: I will confess that this is a most solid Truth, but it is such an one that scarce any one can attain to, unless he be acquainted with the Mind of God. For I will answer thee thus; That the Thing which is to arrive, being referred to the Divine Knowledge, becomes necessary; but if it be taken according to its own Nature, it seems altogether absolute and free: For there are two kinds of Necessities; one simple, as that it is necessary for all Men to die; the other is conditional, as if thou knowest any one doth walk, it is necessary that he do walk. What then any one knows, it cannot be otherwise than it is known to be: But this Condition doth not at all draw that simple one along with it. For its proper Nature doth not constitute this Necessity, but the Addition of the Condition: For no Necessity compels a Man to walk, who walks voluntarily, although it must be necessary that he should walk when he doth. Therefore, in the same manner, if Providence seethe any thing present, it is necessary that it should be, although in its own Nature there be nothing to constitute that Necessity: but all Futurities, which proceed from , God sees as present to him. These things therefore, Relation being had to the Divine Sight, are made necessary by the Condition of the Divine Knowledge; but being considered by themselves, they do not recede from the absolute Liberty of their Nature. All things therefore shall come to pass, which God foresees shall have a Being, but many of them proceed from ; which, although they do happen, yet they do not by existing lose any thing of their Nature; by which it was in their Power before they did happen, not to have happened.  Bo. 
What then, is it to the purpose if things be not necessary in their own Nature, since by the Condition of the Divine Knowledge they fall out together, as if they lay under a Necessity?  Ph. 
This is the Difference, that those things which a little before I proposed to thee, to wit, the Sun rising, and a Man going, which, when they are done, cannot but be done: But yet it was necessary that one of these before it was done should exist, but it was not so with the other. So then those things which God doth see at present, do without doubt exist; but some of them proceed from the Nature of things, as is instanced in the rising of the Sun; and others from the Will and Power of the Doer, as it is in the other Instance.  Bo. 
Therefore I did not say amiss when I said, that some things, being referred to the Divine Knowledge, are necessary; but if considered by themselves, they are absolved from the Bonds of Necessity. Just as every thing which is an Object of the Senses, if it be considered by Reason, it is universal; but if by itself, it is singular. But thou mayst say, that if it be in my Power to change my purpose, I shall destroy Providence, and make it to signify nothing, if perchance I should change that which she hath foreseen.  Ph. 
Thus I will answer thee, That thou mayst perchance alter thy purpose; but because the present Truth of the Divine Providence forseeth that thou mayst change it; but whether thou dost it or not, or which way soever thou mayst turn it, thou canst not avoid the Prescience of God; no more than thou canst fly from the Sight of his Eye, although by the Freedom of thy Will thou dost turn thyself to never so great a Diversity of Actions. But what then mayst thou say? Shall the Divine Knowledge be changed according to the Mutability of my Disposition; so that when I would now do that, and now do this, that also should seem to vary its turns of Knowing? No certainly; for the Divine Eye foreruns all future things, and returns and brings them back to the Presence of God's proper Knowledge. Nor doth he, as thou thinkest, change his turns of Foreknowing, now this, now that; but he remains fixed, and at once foresees and comprehends all the Variations and Changes. Which present Faculty of comprehending and seeing all things, God doth not receive from the Events of future things, but from the proper Simplicity of his own Nature. Hence also that is resolved which thou didst lay down a little before, which was, that it is unfit to be thought that our future Actions and Events are the Causes of the Prescience of God: For this Strength of the Divine Mind which embraceth and comprehends all things with a present Knowledge, hath itself appointed a Method and Bounds to all things, and is not beholden to Futurities. Since than things are thus, there remains to Men an inviolable Freedom of Will. Nor are the Laws to blame when they propose Rewards and Punishments to those whose Wills are free from the Yoke of Necessity. That God also who foreknoweth all things remains above, and the always-present Eternity of his Sight agreeth with the future Quality of our Actions, dispensing Rewards to good, and Punishments to evil Men. Nor are our Hopes and Prayers lodged and addressed to God in vain, which when they are sincere and honest cannot be unsuccessful, nor without Effect. Hate Vice then, and turn from it; love, honour and adore Virtue; advance your Minds and Thoughts to the truest Hope, and let your humble Prayers mount on high: for there is a great Necessity of being good and virtuous imposed upon you, if you will not dissemble, since you act in the Sight of a Judge that seethe all things.    
The End of the Fifth and last Book.  

ERRATA.  
PAge 4. lin. 24. for Theoric read Theory. P. 5. l. ult. f. Bankey Coasts r. Banks. P. 18. l. 21. f. sole r. solo. P. 19 in Margin r. adversus praefectum praetorio. P. 24. l. 9 deal etc. P. 27. l. 23. f. unhappy r. happy. P. 30. l. 11. f. Scyrius r. Seirius; and f. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 r. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. P. 31. l. 20. r. Behold poor. P. 34. l. 2. for these r. those. P. 39 l. ult. r. seems. P. 40. l. 5. f. she r. it. l. 6, & 7. f. her r. its. P. 45. l. 11. f. Scene r. Theatre. P. 46. l. 25. r. Negroponte. l. 27. r. Boeotia. P. 50. l. 8. r. didst. P. 51. l. 16. f. all r. is. P. 57 l. ult. f. pulchralis r. pulchra tui. P. 67. l. 8. r. Natures. P. 71. l. 3. r. craving. l. 28. f. nec r. net. P. 72. l. 15. r. with. P. 76. l. 23. r. Amphidamas. P. 78. l. 12. r. caesis. P. 82. l. 5, 6. r. redoubted. P. 86. l. 31. f. Trascat r. Frascati. l. ult. r. Grotta's. P. 89. l. 16. f. line r. ligue. P. 100 l. 15. f. his r. her. l. 19 r. rendered it by. P. 106. l. penult. f. humidum r. tumidum. P. 109. l. 13. deal the last and. P. 110. l. 20. f. his r. hic. P. 113. l. 22. r. adjiceret. P. 130. l. 24. f. fluitous r. fluitans. P. 176. l. 5. deal just. P. 191. l. 24. f. was r. is. P. 208. l. 29. f. Gardius r. Gardens. P. 217. l. 12. r. corporeal.