Paradise: Canto IV. Doubts Of Dante
Doubts of Dante, respecting the justice of Heaven and
the abode of the blessed, solved by Beatrice.--Question of Dante
as to the possibility of reparation for broken vows.
Between two viands, distant and attractive in like measure, a
free man would die of hunger, before he would bring one of them
to his teeth. Thus a lamb would stand between two ravenings of
fierce wolves, fearing equally; thus would stand a dog between
two does. Hence if, urged by my doubts in like measure, I was
silent, I blame not myself; nor, since it was necessary, do I
commend.
I was silent, but my desire was depicted on my face, and the
questioning with that far more fervent than by distinct speech.
Beatrice did what Daniel did, delivering Nebuchadnezzar from
anger, which had made him unjustly cruel, and said, "I see
clearly how one and the other desire draws thee, so that thy care
so binds itself that it breathes not forth. Thou reasonest, 'If
the good will endure, by what reckoning doth the violence of
others lessen for me the measure of desert?' Further, it gives
thee occasion for doubt, that the souls appear to return to the
stars, in accordance with the opinion of Plato.[1] These are the
questions that thrust equally upon thy wish; and therefore I will
treat first of that which hath the most venom.[2]
[1] Plato, in his Timaeus (41, 42), says that the creator of the
universe assigned each soul to a star, whence they were to be
sown in the vessels of time. " He who lived well during his
appointed time was to return to the star which was his
habitation, and there he would have a blessed and suitable
existence." Dante's doubt has arisen from the words of Piccarda,
which implied that her station was in the sphere of the Moon.
[2] The conception that the souls after death had their abode in
the stars would be a definite heresy, and hence far more
dangerous than a question concerning the justice of Heaven, for
such a question might be consistent with entire faith in that
justice.
"Of the Seraphim he who is most in God, Moses, Samuel, and
whichever John thou wilt take, I say, and even Mary, have not
their seats in another heaven than those spirits who just now
appeared to thee, nor have they more or fewer years for their
existence; but all make beautiful the first circle, and have
sweet life in different measure, through feeling more or less the
eternal breath.[1] They showed themselves here, not because this
sphere is allotted to them, but to afford sign of the celestial
condition which is least exalted. To speak thus is befitting to
your mind, since only by objects of the sense doth it apprehend
that which it then makes worthy of the understanding. For this
reason the Scripture condescends to your capacity, and attributes
feet and hands to God, while meaning otherwise; and Holy Church
represents to you with human aspect Gabriel and Michael and the
other who made Tobias whole again.[2] That which Timaeus, reasons
of the souls is not like this which is seen here, since it seems
that he thinks as he says. He says that the soul returns to its
own star, believing it to have been severed thence, when nature
gave it as the form.[3] And perchance his opinion is of other
guise than his words sound, and may be of a meaning not to be
derided. If he means that the honor of their influence and the
blame returns to these wheels, perhaps his bow hits on some
truth. This principle, ill understood, formerly turned awry
almost the whole world, so that it ran astray in naming Jove,
Mercury, and Mars.[4]
[1] The abode of all the blessed is the Empyrean,--the first
circle, counting from above; but there are degrees in
blessedness, each spirit enjoying according to its capacity; no
one is conscious of any lack.
[2] The archangel Raphael.
[3] The intellectual soul is united with the body as its
substantial form. That by means of which anything performs its
functions (operatur) is its form. The soul is that by which the
body lives, and hence is its form.--Summa Theol., I. lxxvi. 1,
6, 7.
[4] The belief in the influence of the stars led men to assign
to them divine powers, and to name their gods after them.
The other dubitation which disturbs thee has less venom, for
its malice could not lead thee from me elsewhere. That our
justice seems unjust in the eyes of mortals is argument of
faith,[1] and not of heretical iniquity. But in order that your
perception may surely penetrate unto this truth, I will make thee
content, as thou desirest. Though there be violence when he who
suffers nowise consents to him who compels, these souls were not
by reason of that excused; for will, unless it wills, is not
quenched,[2] but does as nature does in fire, though violence a
thousand times may wrest it. Wherefore if it bend much or little,
it follows the force; and thus these did, having power to return
to the holy place. If their will had been entire, such as held
Lawrence on the gridiron, and made Mucius severe unto his hand,
it would have urged them back, so soon as they were loosed, along
the road on which they had been dragged; but will so firm is too
rare. And by these words, if thou hast gathered them up as thou
shouldst, is the argument quashed that would have given thee
annoy yet many times.
[1] Mortals would not trouble themselves concerning the justice
of God, unless they had faith in it. These perplexities are then
arguments or proofs of faith; as St. Thomas Aquinas says, "The
merit of faith consists in believing what one does not see." But
in this case, as Beatrice goes on to show, mere human
intelligence if Sufficient to see that the injustice is only
apparent.
[2] Violence has no power over the will; the original will may,
however, by act of will, be changed.
"But now another path runs traverse before thine eyes, such that
by thyself thou wouldst not issue forth therefrom ere thou wert
weary. I have put it in thy mind for certain, that a soul in
bliss cannot lie, since it is always near to the Primal Truth;
and then thou hast heard from Piccarda that Constance retained
affection for the veil; so that she seems in this to contradict
me. Often ere now, brother, has it happened that, in order to
escape peril, that which it was not meet to do has been done
against one's liking; even as Alcmaeon (who thereto entreated by
his father, slew his own mother), not to lose piety, pitiless
became. On this point, I wish thee to think that the violence is
mingled with the will, and they so act that the offences cannot
be excused. Absolute will consents not to the wrong; but the will
in so far consents thereto, as it fears, if it draw back, to fall
into greater trouble. Therefore when Piccarda says that, she
means it of the absolute will; and I of the other so that we both
speak truth alike."
Such was the current of the holy stream which issued from the
fount whence every truth flows forth; and such it set at rest one
and the other desire.
"O beloved of the First Lover, O divine one," said I then, "whose
speech inundates me, and warms me so that more and more it
quickens me, my affection is not so profound that it can suffice
to render to you grace for grace, but may He who sees and can,
respond for this. I clearly see that our intellect is never
satisfied unless the Truth illume it, outside of which no truth
extends. In that it reposes, as a wild beast in his lair, soon as
it has reached it: and it can reach it; otherwise every desire
would be in vain. Because of this,[1] the doubt, in likeness of a
shoot, springs up at the foot of the truth; and it is nature
which urges us to the summit from height to height. This[2]
invites me, this gives me assurance, Lady, with reverence to ask
you of another truth which is obscure to me. I wish to know if
man can make satisfaction to you[3] for defective vows with other
goods, so that in your scales they may not be light?" looked at
we with such divine eyes, full of the sparks of love, that my
power, vanquished, turned its back, and almost I lost myself with
eyes cast down.
[1] Of this constant desire for truth.
[2] This natural impulse.
[3] To you, that is, to the court of Heaven.
the abode of the blessed, solved by Beatrice.--Question of Dante
as to the possibility of reparation for broken vows.
Between two viands, distant and attractive in like measure, a
free man would die of hunger, before he would bring one of them
to his teeth. Thus a lamb would stand between two ravenings of
fierce wolves, fearing equally; thus would stand a dog between
two does. Hence if, urged by my doubts in like measure, I was
silent, I blame not myself; nor, since it was necessary, do I
commend.
I was silent, but my desire was depicted on my face, and the
questioning with that far more fervent than by distinct speech.
Beatrice did what Daniel did, delivering Nebuchadnezzar from
anger, which had made him unjustly cruel, and said, "I see
clearly how one and the other desire draws thee, so that thy care
so binds itself that it breathes not forth. Thou reasonest, 'If
the good will endure, by what reckoning doth the violence of
others lessen for me the measure of desert?' Further, it gives
thee occasion for doubt, that the souls appear to return to the
stars, in accordance with the opinion of Plato.[1] These are the
questions that thrust equally upon thy wish; and therefore I will
treat first of that which hath the most venom.[2]
[1] Plato, in his Timaeus (41, 42), says that the creator of the
universe assigned each soul to a star, whence they were to be
sown in the vessels of time. " He who lived well during his
appointed time was to return to the star which was his
habitation, and there he would have a blessed and suitable
existence." Dante's doubt has arisen from the words of Piccarda,
which implied that her station was in the sphere of the Moon.
[2] The conception that the souls after death had their abode in
the stars would be a definite heresy, and hence far more
dangerous than a question concerning the justice of Heaven, for
such a question might be consistent with entire faith in that
justice.
"Of the Seraphim he who is most in God, Moses, Samuel, and
whichever John thou wilt take, I say, and even Mary, have not
their seats in another heaven than those spirits who just now
appeared to thee, nor have they more or fewer years for their
existence; but all make beautiful the first circle, and have
sweet life in different measure, through feeling more or less the
eternal breath.[1] They showed themselves here, not because this
sphere is allotted to them, but to afford sign of the celestial
condition which is least exalted. To speak thus is befitting to
your mind, since only by objects of the sense doth it apprehend
that which it then makes worthy of the understanding. For this
reason the Scripture condescends to your capacity, and attributes
feet and hands to God, while meaning otherwise; and Holy Church
represents to you with human aspect Gabriel and Michael and the
other who made Tobias whole again.[2] That which Timaeus, reasons
of the souls is not like this which is seen here, since it seems
that he thinks as he says. He says that the soul returns to its
own star, believing it to have been severed thence, when nature
gave it as the form.[3] And perchance his opinion is of other
guise than his words sound, and may be of a meaning not to be
derided. If he means that the honor of their influence and the
blame returns to these wheels, perhaps his bow hits on some
truth. This principle, ill understood, formerly turned awry
almost the whole world, so that it ran astray in naming Jove,
Mercury, and Mars.[4]
[1] The abode of all the blessed is the Empyrean,--the first
circle, counting from above; but there are degrees in
blessedness, each spirit enjoying according to its capacity; no
one is conscious of any lack.
[2] The archangel Raphael.
[3] The intellectual soul is united with the body as its
substantial form. That by means of which anything performs its
functions (operatur) is its form. The soul is that by which the
body lives, and hence is its form.--Summa Theol., I. lxxvi. 1,
6, 7.
[4] The belief in the influence of the stars led men to assign
to them divine powers, and to name their gods after them.
The other dubitation which disturbs thee has less venom, for
its malice could not lead thee from me elsewhere. That our
justice seems unjust in the eyes of mortals is argument of
faith,[1] and not of heretical iniquity. But in order that your
perception may surely penetrate unto this truth, I will make thee
content, as thou desirest. Though there be violence when he who
suffers nowise consents to him who compels, these souls were not
by reason of that excused; for will, unless it wills, is not
quenched,[2] but does as nature does in fire, though violence a
thousand times may wrest it. Wherefore if it bend much or little,
it follows the force; and thus these did, having power to return
to the holy place. If their will had been entire, such as held
Lawrence on the gridiron, and made Mucius severe unto his hand,
it would have urged them back, so soon as they were loosed, along
the road on which they had been dragged; but will so firm is too
rare. And by these words, if thou hast gathered them up as thou
shouldst, is the argument quashed that would have given thee
annoy yet many times.
[1] Mortals would not trouble themselves concerning the justice
of God, unless they had faith in it. These perplexities are then
arguments or proofs of faith; as St. Thomas Aquinas says, "The
merit of faith consists in believing what one does not see." But
in this case, as Beatrice goes on to show, mere human
intelligence if Sufficient to see that the injustice is only
apparent.
[2] Violence has no power over the will; the original will may,
however, by act of will, be changed.
"But now another path runs traverse before thine eyes, such that
by thyself thou wouldst not issue forth therefrom ere thou wert
weary. I have put it in thy mind for certain, that a soul in
bliss cannot lie, since it is always near to the Primal Truth;
and then thou hast heard from Piccarda that Constance retained
affection for the veil; so that she seems in this to contradict
me. Often ere now, brother, has it happened that, in order to
escape peril, that which it was not meet to do has been done
against one's liking; even as Alcmaeon (who thereto entreated by
his father, slew his own mother), not to lose piety, pitiless
became. On this point, I wish thee to think that the violence is
mingled with the will, and they so act that the offences cannot
be excused. Absolute will consents not to the wrong; but the will
in so far consents thereto, as it fears, if it draw back, to fall
into greater trouble. Therefore when Piccarda says that, she
means it of the absolute will; and I of the other so that we both
speak truth alike."
Such was the current of the holy stream which issued from the
fount whence every truth flows forth; and such it set at rest one
and the other desire.
"O beloved of the First Lover, O divine one," said I then, "whose
speech inundates me, and warms me so that more and more it
quickens me, my affection is not so profound that it can suffice
to render to you grace for grace, but may He who sees and can,
respond for this. I clearly see that our intellect is never
satisfied unless the Truth illume it, outside of which no truth
extends. In that it reposes, as a wild beast in his lair, soon as
it has reached it: and it can reach it; otherwise every desire
would be in vain. Because of this,[1] the doubt, in likeness of a
shoot, springs up at the foot of the truth; and it is nature
which urges us to the summit from height to height. This[2]
invites me, this gives me assurance, Lady, with reverence to ask
you of another truth which is obscure to me. I wish to know if
man can make satisfaction to you[3] for defective vows with other
goods, so that in your scales they may not be light?" looked at
we with such divine eyes, full of the sparks of love, that my
power, vanquished, turned its back, and almost I lost myself with
eyes cast down.
[1] Of this constant desire for truth.
[2] This natural impulse.
[3] To you, that is, to the court of Heaven.
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