第24章
'No,' I said; ' while I think of animals which have volition in their nature, I can find in them no desire to throw away their determination to remain as they are, or to hasten to perish of their own accord, so long as there are no external forces compelling them thereto.Every animal labours for its preservation, shunning death and extinction.But about trees and plants, I have great doubts as to what I should agree to in their case, and in all inanimate objects.'
'But in this case too,' she said,' you have no reason to be in doubt, when you see how trees and plants grow in places which suit them, and where, so far as nature is able to prevent it, they cannot quickly wither and perish.For some grow in plains, others on mountains; some are nourished by marshes, Page 91others cling to rocks; some are fertilised by otherwise barren sands, and would wither away if one tried to transplant them to better soil.Nature grants to each what suits it, and works against their perishing while they can possibly remain alive.I need hardly remind you that all plants seem to have their mouths buried in the earth, and so they suck up nourishment by their roots and diffuse their strength through their pith and bark:
the pith being the softest part is always hidden away at the heart and covered, protected, as it were, by the strength of the wood; while outside, the bark, as being the defender who endures the best, is opposed to the unkindness of the weather.Again, how great is nature's care, that they should all propagate themselves by the reproduction of their seed; they all, as is so well known, are like regular machines not merely for lasting a time, but for reproducing themselves for ever, and that by their own kinds.Things too which are supposed to be inanimate, surely do all seek after their own by a like process.For why is flame carried upward by its lightness, while solid things are carried down by their weight, unless it be that these positions and movements are suitable to each? Further, each thing preserves what is suitable to itself, and what is harmful, it destroys.Hard things, such as stones, cohere with the utmost tenacity of their parts, and resist easy dissolution; while liquids, water, and air, yield easily to division, but quickly slip back to mingle their parts Page 92which have been cut asunder.And fire cannot be cut at all.
'We are not now discussing the voluntary movements of a reasoning mind, but the natural instinct.For instance, we unwittingly digest the food we have eaten, and unconsciously breathe in sleep.Not even in animals does this love of self-preservation come from mental wishes, but from elementary nature.For often the will, under stress of external causes, embraces the idea of death, from which nature revolts in horror.1 And, on the other hand, the will sometimes restrains what nature always desires, namely the operation of begetting, by which alone the continuance of mortal things becomes enduring.Thus far, then, this love of self-preservation arises not from the reasoning animal s intention, but from natural instinct.
Providence has given to its creatures this the greatest cause of permanent existence, the instinctive desire to remain existent so far as possible.
Wherefore you have no reason to doubt that all things, which exist, seek a permanent existence by nature, and similarly avoid extinction.'
'Yes,' I said,' I confess that I see now beyond all doubt what appeared to me just now uncertain.'
'But,' she continued,' that which seeks to continue its existence, aims at unity; for take 92:1 -- Boethius is possibly thinking here of passages in Plato's Republic , Bk.iv.(439-441) where Socrates points out the frequent opposition of reason and instinct.Page 93this away, and none will have any chance of continued existence.'
'That is true.'
'Then all things desire unity,' she said, and I agreed.
'But we have shewn unity to be identical with the good?
'
'Yes,' said I.
'Then all things desire the good; and that you may define as being the absolute good which is desired by all.'
'Nothing could be more truthfully reasoned.For either everything is brought back to nothing, and all will flow on at random with no guiding head; or if there is any universal aim, it will be the sum of all good.'
'Great is my rejoicing, my son,' said she, 'for you have set firmly in your mind the mark of the central truth.And hereby is made plain to you that which you a short time ago said that you knew not.'
'What was that? '
'What was the final aim of all things,' she said,' for that is plainly what is desired by all: since we have agreed that that is the good, we must confess that the good is the end of all things.
'If any man makes search for truth with all his penetration, and would be led astray by no deceiving paths, let him turn upon himself the light of an inward gaze, let him bend by force the long-drawn wanderings of his thoughts into Page 94one circle; let him tell surely to his soul, that he has, thrust away within the treasures of his mind, all that he labours to acquire without.
Then shall that truth, which now was hid in error's darkening cloud, shine forth more clear than Phoebus's self.For the body, though it brings material mass which breeds forgetfulness, has never driven forth all light from the mind.The seed of truth does surely cling within, and can be roused as a spark by the fanning of philosophy.For if it is not so, how do ye men make answers true of your own instinct when teachers question you?
Is it not that the quick spark of truth lies buried in the heart's low depths? And if the Muse of Plato sends through those depths the voice of truth, each man has not forgotten and is but reminding himself of what he learns.' 1 When she made an end, I said,' I agree very strongly with Plato; for this is the second time that you have reminded me of these thoughts.The first time I had lost them through the material influence of the body; the second, when overwhelmed by this weight of trouble.'