the less the power of action. For it is harder
to see and hear the small than the great, but easier
to control them. Suppose a physician who had to
cure a patient— would he ever succeed if
he attended to the great and neglected the little?
‘Impossible.’ Is not life made up
of littles?—the pilot, general, householder,
statesman, all attend to small matters; and the builder
will tell you that large stones do not lie well without
small ones. And God is not inferior to mortal
craftsmen, who in proportion to their skill are careful
in the details of their work; we must not imagine the
best and wisest to be a lazy good-for-nothing, who
wearies of his work and hurries over small and easy
matters. ‘Never, never!’ He who charges
the Gods with neglect has been forced to admit his
error; but I should like further to persuade him that
the author of all has made every part for the sake
of the whole, and that the smallest part has an appointed
state of action or passion, and that the least action
or passion of any part has a presiding minister.
You, we say to him, are a minute fraction of this universe,
created with a view to the whole; the world is not
made for you, but you for the world; for the good
artist considers the whole first, and afterwards the
parts. And you are annoyed at not seeing how you
and the universe are all working together for the
best, so far as the laws of the common creation admit.
The soul undergoes many changes from her contact with
bodies; and all that the player does is to put the
pieces into their right places. ‘What do
you mean?’ I mean that God acts in the way which
is simplest and easiest. Had each thing been
formed without any regard to the rest, the transposition
of the Cosmos would have been endless; but now there
is not much trouble in the government of the world.
For when the king saw the actions of the living souls
and bodies, and the virtue and vice which were in
them, and the indestructibility of the soul and body
(although they were not eternal), he contrived so to
arrange them that virtue might conquer and vice be
overcome as far as possible; giving them a seat and
room adapted to them, but leaving the direction of
their separate actions to men’s own wills, which
make our characters to be what they are. ‘That
is very probable.’ All things which have
a soul possess in themselves the principle of change,
and in changing move according to fate and law; natures
which have undergone lesser changes move on the surface;
but those which have changed utterly for the worse,
sink into Hades and the infernal world. And in
all great changes for good and evil which are produced
either by the will of the soul or the influence of
others, there is a change of place. The good
soul, which has intercourse with the divine nature,
passes into a holier and better place; and the evil
soul, as she grows worse, changes her place for the
worse. This,—as we declare to the
youth who fancies that he is neglected of the Gods,—is


