sharp? Say this to others; but I have considered about all these
thins; no man has power over me. I have been made free; I know His
commands, no man can now lead me as a slave. I have a proper person to
assert my freedom; I have proper judges. Are you not the master of
my body? What, then, is that to me? Are you not the master of my
property? What, then, is that to me? Are you not the master of my
exile or of my chains? Well, from all these things and all the poor
body itself I depart at your bidding, when you please. Make trial of
your power, and you will know how far it reaches.
Whom then can I still fear? Those who are over the bedchamber?
Lest they should do, what? Shut me out? If they find that I wish to
enter, let them shut me out. "Why, then, do you go to the doors?"
Because I think it befits me, while the play lasts, to join in it.
"How, then, are you not shut out?" Because, unless some one allows
me to go in, I do not choose to ,o in, but am always content with that
I which happens; for I think that what God chooses is better than what
I choose. I will attach myself as a minister and follower to Him; I
have the same movements as He has, I have the same desires; in a word,
I have the same will. There is no shutting out for me, but for those
who would force their in. Why, then, do not I force my way in? Because
I know that nothing good is distributed within to those who enter. But
when I hear any man called fortunate because he is honoured by Caesar,
I say, "What does he happen to get?" A province. Does he also obtain
an opinion such as he ought? The office of a Prefect. Does he also
obtain the power of using his office well? Why do I still strive to
enter? A man scatters dried figs and nuts: the children seize them and
fight with one another; men do not, for they think them to be a
small matter. But if a man should throw about shells, even the
children do not seize them. Provinces are distributed: let children
look to that. Money is distributed: let children look to that.
Praetorships, consulships are distributed: let children scramble for
them, let them be shut out, beaten, kiss the hands of the giver, of
the slaves: but to me these are only dried figs and nuts. What then?
If you fail to get them, while Caesar is scattering them about, do not
be troubled: if a dried fig come into your lap, take it and eat it;
for so far you may value even a fig. But if I shall stoop down and
turn another over, or be turned over by another, and shall flatter
those who have got into chamber, neither is a dried fig worth the
trouble, nor anything else of the things which are not good, which the
philosophers have persuaded me not to think good.
Show me the swords of the guards. "See how big they are, and how
sharp." What, then, do these big and sharp swords do? "They kill." And
what does a fever do? "Nothing else." And what else a tile? "Nothing
else." Would you then have me to wonder at these things and worship
them, and go about as the slave of all of them? I hope that this
will not happen: but when I have once learned that everything which
has come into existence must also go out of it, that the universe
may not stand still nor be impeded, I no longer consider it any
difference whether a fever shall do it, or a tile, or a soldier. But
if a man must make a comparison between these things, I know that