sor Norton

THE CONVITO

I

THE CONSOLATION OF PHILOSOPHY

"When the first delight of my soul was lost, of which mention has
already been made, I remained pierced with such affliction that no
comfort availed me. Nevertheless, after some time, my mind, which was
endeavoring to heal itself, undertook, since neither my own nor others'
consoling availed, to turn to the mode which other comfortless ones had
adopted for their consolation. And I set myself to reading that book of
Boethius, not known to many, in which he, a prisoner and an exile, had
consoled himself. And hearing, moreover, that Tully had written a book
in which, treating of friendship, he had introduced words of consolation
for Laelius, a most excellent man, on the death of Scipio his friend, I
set myself to read that. And although it was difficult for me at first
to enter into their meaning, I finally entered into it, so far as my
knowledge of Latin and a little of my own genius permitted; through
which genius I already, as if in a dream, saw many things, as may be
seen in the 'New Life.' And as it sometimes happens that a man goes
seeking silver, and beyond his expectation finds gold, which a hidden
occasion affords, not perchance without Divine guidance, so I, who was
seeking to console myself, found not only relief for my tears, but the
substance of authors, and of knowledge, and of books; reflecting upon
which, I came to the conclusion that Philosophy, who was the Lady of
these authors, this knowledge, and these books, was a supreme thing. And
I imagined her as having the features of a gentle lady; and I could not
imagine her in any but a compassionate act; wherefore my sense so
willingly admired her in truth, that I could hardly turn it from her.
And after this imagination I began to go there where she displayed
herself truly, that is to say, to the school of the religious, and to
the disputations of the philosophers, so that in a short time, perhaps
in thirty months, I began to feel so much of her sweetness that the love
of her chased away and destroyed every other thought."

'The Banquet,' ii. 13.

II

THE DESIRE OF THE SOUL

The supreme desire of everything, and that first given by Nature, is to
return to its source; and since God is the source of our souls and Maker
of them in his own likeness, as is written, "Let us make man in our
image, after our likeness," to him this soul desires above all to
return. And as a pilgrim, who goe