XVII
If, therefore, any of those who bark against philosophy, should ask the usual thing: “Why then do you talk so much more bravely than you live? Why do you speak humbly in the presence of a superior and deem money a necessary equipment, and why are you moved by a loss, and why do you shed tears on hearing of the death of your wife or a friend, and why do you have regard for your reputation and let slander affect you? Why do you till broader acres than your natural need requires? Why do your dinners not conform to your own teaching? Why do you have such elegant furniture? Why is the wine that is drunk at your table older than you are yourself? Why this show of an aviary? Why do you plant trees that will supply nothing but shade? Why does your wife wear in her ears the revenue of a rich house? Why are your young slaves dressed in costly stuffs? Why is it an art to attend at your table and instead of the plate being set out carelessly and as you please why is there expertness of service, and why to carve your meat is there a professional?” Add, too, if you like: “Why do you have domains across the sea? Why more than you have seen? And shame to you! — you are either so careless that you do not know your handful of slaves by sight, or so pampered that you have more than your memory can recall to your knowledge!” Later I shall outdo your reproaches and bestow on myself more blame than you think of; for the moment I shall make this reply: “I am not a ‘wise man,’ [26] nor — to feed your malevolence! — shall I ever be. And so require not from me that I should be equal to the best, but that I should be better than the wicked. It is enough for me if every day I reduce the number of my vices, and blame my mistakes. I have not attained to perfect health, nor indeed shall I attain it; my gout I contrive to alleviate rather than to cure, content if it comes more rarely and gives less pain; but when I compare your feet, crippled though I am, I am a racer!” What I say is not spoken on my own behalf — for I am sunk deep in vice of every kind but on behalf of the man who has actually achieved something.