On this point we Stoics are in arms against the Epicureans, an effeminate, sheltered1 set, who philosophize over their cups, and hold that Virtue is but the handmaid of Pleasures, that she obeys them, that she is their slave, and sees them enthroned above herself. “There can be no pleasure,” you say, “without virtue.” But why does it come before virtue? Do you suppose that the question is one of mere precedence? The whole principle and power of virtue are thrown into doubt. Virtue does not exist if it is possible for her to follow; hers is the first place, she must lead, must command, must have the supreme position; you bid her ask for the watchword! “What difference,” you say, “does it make? Even I affirm that there can be no happy life without virtue. The very pleasure at which I aim, to which I am enslaved, I disapprove of and condemn if she is banished. The only point in question is whether virtue is the cause of the highest good, or is itself the highest good.” Do you suppose that the answer to this question turns upon merely making a shift in the order? It does indeed show confusion and obvious blindness to give preference to last things over first things. But what I protest against is, not that virtue is placed second to pleasure, but that virtue is associated with pleasure at all, for virtue despises pleasure, is its enemy, and recoils from it as far as it can, being more acquainted with labor and sorrow, which are manly ills, than with this womanish good of yours.