The Theological Tractates and The Consolation of Philosophy | Page 2

it, "a golden
volume, not unworthy of the leisure of Plato or of Tully." To belittle its
originality and sincerity, as is sometimes done, with a view to saving
the Christianity of the writer, is to misunderstand his mind and his
method. The Consolatio is not, as has been maintained, a mere

patchwork of translations from Aristotle and the Neoplatonists. Rather
it is the supreme essay of one who throughout his life had found his
highest solace in the dry light of reason. His chief source of
refreshment, in the dungeon to which his beloved library had not
accompanied him, was a memory well stocked with the poetry and
thought of former days. The development of the argument is anything
but Neoplatonic; it is all his own.
And if the Consolation of Philosophy admits Boethius to the company
of Cicero or even of Plato, the theological Tractates mark him as the
forerunner of St. Thomas. It was the habit of a former generation to
regard Boethius as an eclectic, the transmitter of a distorted
Aristotelianism, a pagan, or at best a luke-warm Christian, who at the
end cast off the faith which he had worn in times of peace, and wrapped
himself in the philosophic cloak which properly belonged to him. The
authenticity of the Tractates was freely denied. We know better now.
The discovery by Alfred Holder, and the illuminating discussion by
Hermann Usener,[1] of a fragment of Cassiodorus are sufficient
confirmation of the manuscript tradition, apart from the work of
scholars who have sought to justify that tradition from internal
evidence. In that fragment Cassiodorus definitely ascribes to his friend
Boethius "a book on the Trinity, some dogmatic chapters, and a book
against Nestorius."[2] Boethius was without doubt a Christian, a Doctor
and perhaps a martyr. Nor is it necessary to think that, when in prison,
he put away his faith. If it is asked why the Consolation of Philosophy
contains no conscious or direct reference to the doctrines which are
traced in the Tractates with so sure a hand, and is, at most, not out of
harmony with Christianity, the answer is simple. In the Consolation he
is writing philosophy; in the Tractates he is writing theology. He
observes what Pascal calls the orders of things. Philosophy belongs to
one order, theology to another. They have different objects. The object
of philosophy is to understand and explain the nature of the world
around us; the object of theology is to understand and explain doctrines
delivered by divine revelation. The scholastics recognized the
distinction,[3] and the corresponding difference in the function of Faith
and Reason. Their final aim was to co-ordinate the two, but this was
not possible before the thirteenth century. Meanwhile Boethius helps to

prepare the way. In the Consolation he gives Reason her range, and
suffers her, unaided, to vindicate the ways of Providence. In the
Tractates Reason is called in to give to the claims of Faith the support
which it does not really lack.[4] Reason, however, has still a right to be
heard. The distinction between fides and ratio is proclaimed in the first
two Tractates. In the second especially it is drawn with a clearness
worthy of St. Thomas himself; and there is, of course, the implication
that the higher authority resides with fides. But the treatment is
philosophical and extremely bold. Boethius comes back to the question
of the substantiality of the divine Persons which he has discussed in Tr.
I. from a fresh point of view. Once more he decides that the Persons are
predicated relatively; even Trinity, he concludes, is not predicated
substantially of deity. Does this square with catholic doctrine? It is
possible to hear a note of challenge in his words to John the Deacon,
fidem si poterit rationemque coniunge. Philosophy states the problem
in unequivocal terms. Theology is required to say whether they
commend themselves.
One object of the scholastics, anterior to the final co-ordination of the
two sciences, was to harmonize and codify all the answers to all the
questions that philosophy raises. The ambition of Boethius was not so
soaring, but it was sufficiently bold. He set out, first to translate, and
then to reconcile, Plato and Aristotle; to go behind all the other systems,
even the latest and the most in vogue, back to the two great masters,
and to show that they have the truth, and are in substantial accord. So
St. Thomas himself, if he cannot reconcile the teaching of Plato and
Aristotle, at least desires to correct the one by the other, to discover
what truth is common to both, and to show its correspondence with
Christian doctrine. It is reasonable to conjecture that Boethius, if he had
lived, might have attempted something of the kind. Were he alive
to-day, he might