own good; not for my own evil.

CXXX

Remind thyself that he whom thou lovest is mortal--that what thou lovest
is not thine own; it is given thee for the present, not irrevocably nor
for ever, but even as a fig or a bunch of grapes at the appointed season
of the year. . . .

"But these are words of evil omen.". . .

What, callest thou aught of evil omen save that which signifies some
evil thing? Cowardice is a word of evil omen, if thou wilt, and meanness
of spirit, and lamentation and mourning, and shamelessness. . . .

But do not, I pray thee, call of evil omen a word that is significant of
any natural thing:--as well call of evil omen the reaping of the corn;
for that means the destruction of the ears, though not of the World!--as
well say that the fall of the leaf is of evil omen; that the dried fig
should take the place of the green; that raisins should be made from
grapes. All these are changes from a former state into another; not
destruction, but an ordered economy, a fixed administration. Such
is leaving home, a change of small account; such is Death, a greater
change, from what now is, not to what is not, but to what is not now.

"Shall I then no longer be?"

Not so; thou wilt be; but something different, of which the World now
hath need. For thou too wert born not when thou chosest, but when the
World had need of thee.

CXXXI

Wherefore a good man and true, bearing in mind who he is and whence he
came and from whom he sprang, cares only how he may fill his post with
due discipline and obedience to God.

Wilt thou that I continue to live? Then will I live, as one that is
free and noble, as Thou wouldst have me. For Thou hast made me free from
hindrance in what appertaineth unto me. But hast Thou no further need
of me? I thank Thee! Up to this hour have I stayed for Thy sake and none
other's: and now in obedience to Thee I depart.

"How dost thou depart?"

Again I say, as Thou wouldst have me; as one that is free, as Thy
servant, as one whose ear is open unto what Thou dost enjoin, what Thou
dost forbid.

CXXXII

Whatsoever place or post Thou assignest me, sooner will I die a thousand
deaths, as Socrates said, then depart it. And where wilt Thou have be
me? At Rome of Athens? At Thebes or on a desert island? Only remember me
there! Shouldst Thou send me where man cannot live as Nature would have
him, I will depart, not in disobedience to Thee, but as though Thou wert
soundi