The Consolation of Philosophy · Book V
Book V · Chapter I

Is There Such a Thing as Chance?

Song I · Chance.

The Text

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A new modern English rendering, made from the Latin with AI assistance — a reading aid, not a scholarly edition.

Chapter I

She had spoken, and was turning the course of her discourse toward treating and clearing up certain other matters. Then I said: "Your exhortation is indeed right, and entirely worthy of your authority; but as for what you said a while ago, that the question of providence is entangled with many others, I find it true in practice. For I ask whether you think that chance exists at all, and, if so, what you take it to be."

Then she said: "I am eager to discharge the debt of my promise, and to open up for you the path by which you may be carried back to your homeland. These matters, however, though most useful to know, are nonetheless a little turned aside from the track of our purpose; and there is reason to fear that, wearied by these detours, you may not be equal to completing the straight road."

"Have no fear of that at all," I said. "For it will be like a rest for me to recognize the things in which I most delight; and at the same time, once every side of your argument has stood firm in unshaken faith, nothing will remain in doubt about what follows."

Then she said: "I will do as you wish." And she began thus: "If anyone should define chance as an outcome produced by a random movement and by no connection of causes, I affirm that there is no such thing as chance at all, and I judge it to be, apart from signifying the matter at hand, an entirely empty word. For what room can be left for randomness, when God constrains all things into order? For 'nothing comes from nothing' is a true saying, which none of the ancients ever contradicted, though they laid it down as a kind of foundation for all their reasonings about nature, applying it not to the active first principle but to the material substrate. But if anything were to arise from no causes, it would seem to have arisen out of nothing. And if this cannot happen, then neither is it possible for there to be chance of the kind we defined just now."

"What then?" I said. "Is there nothing that can rightly be called chance or accident? Or is there something to which these words apply, even if it is hidden from the common crowd?"

"My Aristotle," she said, "defined it in his Physics, both briefly and close to the truth."

"In what way?" I asked.

"Whenever something is done for the sake of some purpose," she said, "and something other than what was intended comes about for certain reasons, this is called chance. For example, if a man, while digging the ground in order to cultivate his field, should find a buried mass of gold: this is believed to have happened by chance. Yet it does not come from nothing, for it has its own proper causes, whose unforeseen and unexpected meeting seems to have produced the chance event. For unless the farmer had been digging the ground, and unless the man who buried it had hidden his money in that very spot, the gold would not have been found. These, then, are the causes of the lucky windfall, which comes from causes that meet and flow together, not from the intention of the one acting. For neither the man who buried the gold nor the one who worked the field intended that the money should be found; but, as I said, it happened that the one dug where the other had buried, and the two coincided. We may therefore define chance as an unexpected outcome arising from concurrent causes in things done for some purpose. But the order that proceeds by an inescapable chain of connection — the order that, descending from the fountain of providence, arranges all things in their places and times — this is what makes the causes meet and flow together."

Song IChance.
On the crags of the Achaemenian cliffs, where the fleeing fight plants its arrows in the breasts of those who pursue, the Tigris and the Euphrates flow apart from a single spring, and soon, their waters divided, are separated.
If they should come together and be recalled once more into one course, all that each stream carries along would flow as one; boats and trunks torn loose by the flood would meet, and the mingled waters would weave their chance patterns — patterns that, wandering as they seem, are still ruled by the slope of the land and the downward order of the gliding flood.
So Fortune too, which seems to float with loosened reins, endures the bridle, and herself moves by law.