then have thought it of service to beckon to death as the daughter of Oedipus issued from the doorway of Creon’s palace?  It was, therefore, solely because of the strength of her soul that destiny was able to triumph.  And, indeed, it is this that consoles the wise and the just—­the heroes; destiny can vanquish them only by the good she compels them to do.  Other men are like cities with hundred gates, that she finds unguarded and open; but the upright man is a fortified city, with the one gate only—­of light; and this gate remains closed till love be induced to knock, and to crave admission.  Other men she compels to obey her; and destiny, doing her will, wills nothing but evil; but would she subdue the upright, she needs must desire noble acts.  Darkness then will no longer enwrap her approach.  The upright man is secure in the light that enfolds him; and only by a light more radiant still can she hope to prevail.  Destiny then will become more beautiful still than her victim.  Ordinary men she will place between personal sorrow and the misfortune of others; but to master the hero or saint, she must cause him to choose between the happiness of others and the grief that shall fall on himself.  Ordinary men she lays siege to with the aid of all that is ugly; against the others she perforce must enlist whatever is noblest on earth.  Against the first she has thousands of weapons, the very stones in the road becoming engines of mischief; but the others she can only attack with one irresistible sword, the gleaming sword of duty and truth.  In Antigone’s story is found the whole tale of destiny’s empire on wisdom.  Jesus who died for us, Curtius who leaped into the gulf, Socrates who refused to desist from his teaching, the sister of charity who yields up her life to tending the sick, the humble wayfarer who perishes seeking to rescue his fellows from death—­all these have been forced to choose, all these bear the mark of Antigone’s glorious wound on their breast.  For truly those who live in the light have their magnificent perils also; and wisdom has danger for such as shrink from self-sacrifice, though it may be that they who shrink from self-sacrifice are perhaps not very wise.

48.  Pronounce the word “destiny,” and in the minds of all men an image arises of gloom and of terror—­of death.  In their thoughts they regard it, instinctively, as the lane that leads straight to the tomb.  Most often, indeed, it is only the name that they give unto death, when its hand is not visible yet.  It is death that looms in the future, the shadow of death upon life.  “None can escape his destiny” we often exclaim when we hear of death lying in wait for the traveller at the bend of the road.  But were the traveller to encounter happiness instead, we would never ascribe this to destiny; if we did, we should have in our mind a far different goddess.  And yet, are not joys to be met with on the highways of life that are greater than any misfortune, more momentous