The worthy disciples of philosophy are few in number.
Some are well-educated nobles who live afar off because they were exiled.
Some are lofty souls who condemn and neglect politics but live undetected because of the madness of the multitude.
Some are gifted but renounce their arts and despise those very arts for philosophy's sake.
Some pursue philosophy because ill-health checks them and keeps them away from politics.
They know that no politician is honest.
They know there is no champion of justice at whose side they may fight and be saved.
They will not join in the wickedness of their fellows, who act like animals and beasts.
They know they cannot resist all these single-handedly, so they hold their peace, and go their own way.
The worthy disciple of philosophy is like one who, in the storm of dust and sleet which the driving wind hurries along, retires under the shelter of a wall.
He is content, if only he can live his own life and be pure from evil or unrighteousness, and depart in peace and good-will, with bright hopes.
