dint of exercise and practice, come to outdo a giant who neglects his
body? He will beat him in the particular point of training, and bear
the strain more easily. But you apparently will not have it that I,
who am for ever training myself to endure this, that, and the other
thing which may befall the body, can brave all hardships more easily
than yourself for instance, who perhaps are not so practised. And to
escape slavery to the belly or to sleep or lechery, can you suggest
more effective means than the possession of some powerful attraction,
some counter-charm which shall gladden not only in the using, but by
the hope enkindled of its lasting usefulness? And yet this you do
know; joy is not to him who feels that he is doing well in nothing--it
belongs to one who is persuaded that things are progressing with him,
be it tillage or the working of a vessel,[4] or any of the thousand
and one things on which a man may chance to be employed. To him it is
given to rejoice as he reflects, "I am doing well." But is the
pleasured derived from all these put together half as joyous as the
consciousness of becoming better oneself, of acquiring better and
better friends? That, for my part, is the belief I continue to
cherish.

[4] "The business of a shipowner or skipper."

Again, if it be a question of helping one's friends or country, which
of the two will have the larger leisure to devote to these objects--he
who leads the life which I lead to-day, or he who lives in the style
which you deem so fortunate? Which of the two will adopt a soldier's
life more easily--the man who cannot get on without expensive living,
or he to whom whatever comes to hand suffices? Which will be the
readier to capitulate and cry "mercy" in a siege--the man of elaborate
wants, or he who can get along happily with the readiest things to