Draw the comparison: you philosophers grant the premises of the various systems and then believe everything that follows, supposing that the consistency you find, false though it is, is a proof of its essential truth. Then some of you die in your hopes before they perceive the truth and condemn their deceivers, while others, even if they see too late that they have been deceived, are old men already, and hesitate to turn back out of shame, for fear that in their old age they have to acknowledge that they did not know that they were playing children’s games; so they stick to it out of shame, and praise their lot and turn as many as they can into the same course so that they may not be the only ones who are swindled, but that a multitude of others in the same state as themselves may be a consolation to them. They realise moreover this, that if they speak the truth they will no longer be revered above the many as now, nor receive the same honour. No, they would not be ready to speak the truth, knowing as they do the heights from which they will fall to the state of ordinary mortals. You will certainly find very few brave enough to admit that they have been deceived and to turn away others from a similar attempt. If, then, you meet such a one, call him a lover of truth, honest, and just, and, if you like, a philosopher; for to him alone I would not begrudge the name. As for the rest, either they have no knowledge of the truth, though they think they have, or they know it and hide it from cowardice and shame and the wish to be highly honoured.

However, in Athena’s name let us forget all that I have said and let it drop, let it pass into oblivion like all history before Euclid’s archonship. The year 403–402 B.C. when the democracy was reestablished in Athens and an amnesty went into effect. Let us assume that this philosophy of the Stoics and no other is right, and see whether it is attainable and possible, or if those who desire it labour in vain. For I hear that it makes wonderful promises of the happiness in store for those who attain its height, for they alone will take and possess every true good. You may know the answer to the next question better than I—have you ever met a Stoic, one of the top men, of a type that feels no pain, one who is not dragged down by pleasure, who is never angry, but rises above envy, despises wealth, and is perfectly happy? Our canon and measure of the virtuous life must be like that—for if he fall short in the least thing he is imperfect, even if he has more of everything—and if he is not like that, he is not yet happy.