Dante. An essay. To which is added a translation of De Monarchia. · R. W. Church
BOOK II.
And since in any sequence it is impossible to have an antecedent without its consequent, for instance, to have "man" without "animal," as is evident by putting together and taking to pieces the idea,[239] so also it is impossible to seek for the end of right without right, for each thing stands in the same relation to its proper end, as the consequent does to its antecedent; as without health it is impossible to attain to a good condition of the body. Wherefore, it is most evidently clear that he who aims at the end of right must aim in accordance with right; nor does the contradictory instance which is commonly drawn from Aristotle's treatment of "good counsel" avail anything.[240] He there says: "It is possible to obtain what is the right result from a syllogism, which is incorrect, but not by an argument which is right, for the middle term is wrong." For if sometimes a right conclusion is obtained from false principles, this is only by accident, and happens only in so far as the true conclusion is imported in the words of the inference. Truth never really follows from falsehood; but the signs of truth may easily follow from the signs of falsehood. So also it is in matters of conduct.
If a thief helps a poor man out of the spoils of his thieving, we must not call that charity; but it is an action which would have the form of charity, if it had been done out of the man's own substance. And so of the end of right. If anything, such as the end of right, were gained without right, it would only be the end of right, that is, the common good, in the same sense that the gift, made from evil gains, is charity. And so the example proves nothing, for in our proposition we speak, not of the apparent but of the real end of right. What was sought, therefore, is clear. [Footnote 240: [Greek: Euboulia]. _Ethics_, vi. 10.] VII.--What nature has ordained is maintained of right. For nature in its providence does not come short of men's providence; for if it were to come short, the effect would excel the cause in goodness, which is impossible. But we see that when public bodies are founded, not only are the relations of the members to each other considered, but also their capacities for exercising offices; and this is to consider the end of right in the society or order which is founded, for right is not extended beyond what is possible. Nature then, in her ordinances, does not come short in this foresight. Therefore it is clear that nature, in ordaining a thing, has regard to its capacities; and this regard is the fundamental principle of right which nature lays down. From this it follows that the natural order of things cannot be maintained without right; for this fundamental principle of right is inseparably joined to the natural order of things. It is necessary, therefore, that it is of right that this order is preserved.
The Roman people was ordained for empire, by nature, and this may be shown as follows: The man would come short of perfection in his art, who aimed only to produce his ultimate form, and neglected the means of reaching it; in the same way, if nature only aimed at reproducing in the world the universal form of the divine likeness, and neglected the means of doing so, she would be imperfect. But nature, which is the work of the divine intelligence, is wholly perfect; she therefore aims at all the means by which her final end is arrived at. Since then mankind has a certain end, and since there is a certain means necessary for the universal end of nature, it necessarily follows that nature aims at obtaining that means. And therefore the Philosopher, in the second book of _Natural Learning_,[241] well shows that nature always acts for the end. And since nature cannot reach this end through one man, because that there are many actions necessary to it, which need many to act, therefore nature must produce many men and set them to act. And besides the higher influence,[242] the powers and properties of inferior spheres contribute much to this. And therefore we see not only that individual men, but also that certain races are born to govern, and certain others to be governed and to serve, as the Philosopher argues in the _Politics_;[243] and for the latter, as he himself says, subjection is not only expedient, but just, even though they be forced into subjection.
And if this is so, it cannot be doubted that nature ordained in the world a country and a nation for universal sovereignty; if this were not so, she would have been untrue to herself, which is impossible. But as to where that country is, and which is that nation, it is sufficiently manifest, both from what we have said and from what we shall say, that it was Rome and her citizens or people; and this our poet very skilfully touches on in the sixth _Æneid_, where he introduces Anchises prophesying to Æneas, the ancestor of the Romans: "Others may mould the breathing bronze more delicately--I doubt it not; they may chisel from marble the living countenance; they may surpass thee in pleading causes; they may track the course of the heavens with the rod, and tell when the stars will rise; but thou, Roman, remember to rule the nations with thy sway. These shall be thy endowments--to make peace to be the custom of the world; to spare thy foes when they submit, and to crush the proud."[244] And again, Virgil skilfully notes the appointment of the _place_, in the fourth _Æneid_, when he brings in Jupiter speaking to Mercury concerning Æneas: "His fair mother did not promise him to us to be such as this: it was not for this that twice she rescues him from Grecian arms; but that there should be one to rule over Italy, teeming with empires, tempestuous with wars." It has, therefore, sufficiently been shown that the Roman people was by nature ordained to empire. Therefore it was of right that they gained empire, by subduing to themselves the world.
VIII.--But in order properly to discover the truth in our inquiry, we must recognise that the judgment of God is sometimes made manifest to men, and sometimes hidden from them. It may be made manifest in two ways, namely, by reason and by faith. There are some judgments of God to which the human reason, by its own paths, can arrive; as, that a man should risk death to save his country. For a part should always risk itself to save its whole, and each man is a part of his State, as is clear from the Philosopher in his _Politics_.[245] Therefore every man ought to risk himself for his country, as the less good for the better; whence the Philosopher says to Nicomachus: "The end is desirable, indeed, even for an individual, but it is better and more divine for a nation and State."[246] And this is the judgment of God, for if it were not so, right reason in men would miss the intention of nature, which is impossible.
There are also some judgments of God to which, though human reason cannot reach them by its own powers, yet, by the aid of faith in those things which are told us in Holy Scripture it can be lifted up: as, for instance, that no one, however perfect he may be in moral and intellectual virtues, both in habit and in action, can be saved without faith; it being supposed that he never heard aught of Christ. For human reason cannot of itself see this to be just, yet by faith it can. For in the Epistle to the Hebrews it is written, "without faith it is impossible to please God;"[247] and in Leviticus, "what man soever there be of the House of Israel that killeth an ox, or lamb, or goat in the camp, or that killeth it out of the camp, and bringeth it not to the door of the tabernacle to offer an offering unto the Lord, blood shall be imputed to that man."[248] The door of the tabernacle stands for Christ, who is the door of the kingdom of heaven, as may be proved from the Gospel: the killing of animals represents men's actions.[249]
But the judgment of God is a hidden one, when man cannot arrive at the knowledge of it either by the law of nature or by the written law, but only occasionally by a special grace. This grace comes in several ways: sometimes by simple revelation, sometimes by revelation assisted by a certain kind of trial or debate. Simple revelation, too, is of two kinds: either God gives it of his own accord, or it is gained by prayer. God gives it of his own accord in two ways, either plainly, or by a sign. His judgment against Saul was revealed to Samuel plainly; but it was by a sign that it was revealed to Pharaoh what God had judged touching the setting free of the children of Israel. The judgment of God is also given in answer to prayer, as he knew who spoke in the second book of Chronicles:[250] "When we know not what we ought to do, this only have we left, to direct our eyes to Thee." Revelation by means of trial is also of two kinds. It is given either by casting lots, or by combat; for "to strive" (_certare_), is derived from a phrase which means "to make certain" (_certum facere_). It is clear that the judgment of God is sometimes revealed to men by casting lots, as in the substitution of Matthias in the Acts of the Apostles.
Again the judgment of God is revealed to men by combat in two ways: either it is by a trial of strength, as in the duels of champions who are called "_duelliones_," or it is by the contention of many men, each striving to reach a certain mark first, as happens in the contests of athletes who run for a prize. The first of these methods was prefigured among the Gentiles by the contests between Hercules and Antæus, which Lucan mentions in the fourth book of his _Pharsalia_, and Ovid in the ninth book of his _Metamorphoses_. The second is prefigured by the contest between Atalanta and Hippomenes, described in the tenth book of Ovid's _Metamorphoses_.[251] Moreover, it ought not to pass unnoticed concerning these two kinds of strife, that while in the first each champion may fairly hinder his antagonist, in the second this is not so; for athletes must not hinder one another in their strife, though our poet seems to have thought differently in the fifth _Æneid_ where Euryalus so receives the prize.[252] But Cicero has done better in forbidding this practice in the third book of the _De Officiis_, following the opinion of Chrysippus.[253] He there says: "Chrysippus is right here, as he often is, for he says that he who runs in a race should strive with all his might to win, but in no way should he try to trip up his competitor."
With these distinctions, then, we may assume that there are two ways in which men may learn the judgment of God, as we have on this point stated; first by the contests of athletes, and secondly by the contests of champions. These ways of discovering the judgment of God I will treat of in the chapter following. IX.--That people then, which conquered when all were striving hard for the Empire of the world, conquered by the will of God. For God cares more to settle a universal strife than a particular one; and even in particular contests the athletes sometimes throw themselves on the judgment of God, according to the common proverb: "To whom God makes the grant, him let Peter also bless."[254] It cannot, then, be doubted that the victory in the strife for the Empire of the world followed the judgment of God. The Roman people, when all were striving for the Empire of the world, conquered; it will be plain that so it was, if we consider the prize or goal, and those who strove for it. The prize or goal was the supremacy over all men; for it is this that we call the Empire. None reached this but the Roman people. Not only were they the first, they were the only ones to reach the goal, as we shall shortly see.
The first man who panted for the prize was Ninus, King of the Assyrians; but although for more than ninety years (as Orosius tells[255]) he, with his royal consort Semiramis, strove for the Empire of the world and made all Asia subject to himself, nevertheless he never subdued the West. Ovid mentions both him and his queen in the fourth book of the _Metamorphoses_, when he says, in the story of Pyramus:[256] "Semiramis girdled the round space with brick-built walls;" and, "let them come to Ninus' tomb and hide beneath in its shade." Secondly, Vesoges, King of Egypt, aspired to this prize; but though he vexed the North and South of Asia, as Orosius relates,[257] yet he never gained for himself one-half of the world; nay, when, as it were, between the judges[258] and the goal, the Scythians drove him back from his rash enterprise. Then Cyrus, King of the Persians, made the same attempt; but after the destruction of Babylon, and the transference of its Empire to Persia, he did not even reach the regions of the West, but lost his life and his object in one day at the hands of Tamiris, Queen of the Scythians.[259] But after that these had failed, Xerxes, the son of Darius and king among the Persians, assailed the world with so great a multitude of nations, with so great a power, that he bridged the channel of the sea which separates Asia from Europe, between Sestos and Abydos. And of this wonderful work Lucan makes mention in the second book of his _Pharsalia_:[260] "Such paths across the seas, made by Xerxes in his pride, fame tells of." But finally he was miserably repulsed from his enterprise, and could not attain the goal.
Besides these kings, and after their times, Alexander, King of Macedon, came nearest of all to the prize of monarchy; he sent ambassadors to the Romans to demand their submission, but before the Roman answer came, he fell in Egypt, as Livy[261] tells us, as it were in the middle of the course. Of his burial there, Lucan speaks in the eighth book of his _Pharsalia_,[262] where he is inveighing against Ptolemy, King of Egypt: "Thou last of the Lagæan race, soon to perish in thy degeneracy, and to yield thy kingdom to an incestuous sister; while for thee the Macedonian is kept in the sacred cave...." "Oh the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!" Who will not marvel at thee here? For when Alexander was trying to hinder his Roman competitor in the race, thou didst suddenly snatch him away from the contest that his rashness might proceed no further.
But that Rome has won the crown of so great a victory is proved on the testimony of many. Our poet in his first _Æneid_ says:[263] "Hence, surely, shall one day the Romans come, as the years roll on, to be the leaders of the world, from the blood of Teucer renewed; over the sea and over the land they shall hold full sway."[264] And Lucan, in his first book, writes: "The sword assigns the kingdom; and the fortune of that mighty people that rules o'er sea and land and the whole earth, admitted not two to rule." And Boethius, in his second book,[265] speaking of the Roman prince says: "With his sceptre he ruled the nations, those whom Phoebus beholds, from his rising afar to where he sinks his beams beneath the waves; those who are benumbed by the frosty Seven Stars of the north, those whom the fierce south wind scorches with his heat, parching the burning sands." And Luke, the Scribe of Christ, bears the same testimony, whose every word is true, where he says: "There went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus that all the world should be taxed;" from which words we must plainly understand that the Romans had jurisdiction over the whole world. From all this evidence it is manifest that the Roman people prevailed when all were striving to gain the Empire of the world. Therefore it was by the judgment of God that it prevailed; consequently its Empire was gained by the judgment of God, which is to say, that it was gained by right.
X.--And what is gained as the result of single combat or duel is gained of right. For whenever human judgment fails, either because it is involved in the clouds of ignorance, or because it has not the assistance of a judge, then, lest justice should be left deserted, we must have recourse to Him who loved justice so much that He died to fulfil what it required by shedding His own blood. Therefore the Psalmist wrote: "The righteous Lord loveth righteousness." This result is gained when, by the free consent of the parties, not from hatred but from love of justice, men inquire of the judgment of God by a trial of strength as well of soul as of body. And this trial of strength is called a duel, because in the first instance it was between two combatants, man to man. But when two nations quarrel they are bound to try in every possible way to arrange the quarrel by means of discussion; it is only when this is hopeless that they may declare war. Cicero and Vegetius agree on this point, the former in his _De Officiis_,[266] the latter in his book on war. In the practice of medicine recourse may only be had to amputation and cauterising when every other means of cure have been tried. So in the same way, it is only when we have sought in vain for all other modes of deciding a quarrel that we may resort to the remedy of a single combat, forced thereto by a necessity of justice.
Two formal rules, then, of the single combat are clear, one which we have just mentioned, the other, which we touched on before, that the combatants or champions must enter the lists by common consent, not animated by private hatred or love, but simply by an eager desire for justice. Therefore Cicero, in touching on this matter, spoke well when he said: "Wars, which are waged for the crown of empire, must be waged without bitterness."[267] But, if the rules of single combat be kept when men are driven by justice to meet together by common consent, in their zeal for justice (and if they are not, the contest ceases to be a single combat), do not they meet together in the name of God? And if it is so, is not God in the midst of them, for He Himself promises us this in the Gospel? And if God is there, is it not impious to suppose that justice can fail?--that justice which He loved so much, as we have just seen. And if single combat cannot fail to secure justice, is not what is gained in single combat gained as of right?
This truth the Gentiles, too, recognised before the trumpet of the Gospel was sounded, when they sought for a judgment in the fortune of single combat. So Pyrrhus, noble both in the manners and in the blood of Æacidæ, gave a worthy answer when the Roman envoys were sent to him to treat for the ransom of prisoners. "I ask not for gold; ye shall pay me no price, being not war-mongers, but true men of war. Let each decide his fate with steel, and not with gold. Whether it be you or I that our mistress wills to reign, or what chance she may bring to each, let us try by valour. Hear ye also this word: those whose valour the fortune of war has spared, their liberty will I too spare. Take ye them as my gift."[268] So spoke Pyrrhus. By "mistress" he meant Fortune, which we better and more rightly call the Providence of God. Therefore, let the combatants beware that they fight not for money; then it would be no true single combat in which they fought, for they would strive in a court of blood and injustice; and let it not be thought that God would then be present to judge; nay, for it would be that ancient enemy who had been the instigator of the strife. If they wish to be true combatants, and not dealers in blood and injustice, let them keep Pyrrhus before their eyes when they enter the arena, the man who, when he was striving for empire, so scorned gold, as we have said.
But, if men will not receive the truth which we have proved, and object, as they are wont, that all men are not equal in strength, we will refute them with the instance of the victory of David over Goliath; and if the Gentiles seek for aught more, let them repel the objection by the victory of Hercules over Antæus. For it is mere folly to fear that the strength which God makes strong should be weaker than a human champion. It is, therefore, now sufficiently clear that what is acquired by single combat is acquired by right. XI.--But the Roman people gained their empire by duel between man and man; and this is proved by testimonies that are worthy of all credence; and in proving this, we shall also show that where any question had to be decided from the beginning of the Roman Empire, it was tried by single combat. For first of all, when a quarrel arose about the settling in Italy of Father Æneas, the earliest ancestor of this people, and when Turnus, King of the Rutuli, withstood Æneas, it was at last agreed between the two kings to discover the good pleasure of God by a single combat, which is sung in the last book of the _Æneid_. And in this combat Æneas was so merciful in his victory, that he would have granted life and peace to the conquered foe, had he not seen the belt which Turnus had taken on slaying Pallas, as the last verses of our poet describe.
Again, when two peoples had grown up in Italy, both sprung from the Trojan stem, namely, the Romans and the Albans, and they had long striven whose should be the sign of the eagle,[269] and the Penates of Troy, and the honours of empire; at last by mutual consent, in order to have certain knowledge of the case in hand, the three Horatii, who were brethren, and the three Curatii, who were also brethren, fought together before the kings and all the people anxiously waiting on either side; and since the three Alban champions were killed, while one Roman survived, the palm of victory fell to the Romans, in the reign of Hostilius the king. This story has been diligently put together by Livy, in the first part of his history, and Orosius also gives similar testimony.[270] Next they fought for empire with their neighbours the Sabines and Samnites, as Livy tells us; all the laws of war were kept; and though those who fought were very many in number, the war was in the form of a combat between man and man. In the contest with the Samnites, Fortune nearly repented her of what she had begun, as Lucan instances in the second book of his _Pharsalia_:[271] "How many companies lay dead by the Colline gate then, when the headship of the world and universal empire well-nigh were transferred to other seats, and the Samnite heaped the corpses of Rome beyond the numbers[272] of the Caudine Forks."
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.