then rightly have seemed, both to himself and to all others whose
eyes were keen enough to perceive the real truth, to be superior
even to him at whose feet all the world lay. He was far more
powerful, far richer even than Alexander, who then possessed
everything; for there was more that Diogenes could refuse to
receive than that Alexander was able to give.

V. It is not disgraceful to be worsted by these men, for I am not
the less brave because you pit me against an invulnerable enemy,
nor does fire not burn because you throw into it something over
which flames have no power, nor does iron lose its power of
cutting, though you may wish to cut up a stone which is hard,
impervious to blows, and of such a nature that hard tools are
blunted upon it. I give you the same answer about gratitude. A man
is not disgracefully worsted in a contest of benefits if he lays
himself under an obligation to such persons as these, whose
enormous wealth or admirable virtue shut out all possibility of
their benefits being returned. As a rule we are worsted by our
parents; for while we have them with us, we regard them as severe,
and do not understand what they do for us. When our age begins to
bring us a little sense, and we gradually perceive that they
deserve our love for those very things which used to prevent our
loving them, their advice, their punishments, and the careful watch
which they used to keep over our youthful recklessness, they are
taken from us. Few live to reap any real fruit from children; most
men feel their sons only as a burden. Yet there is no disgrace in
being worsted by one's parent in bestowing benefits; how should
there be, seeing that there is no disgrace in being worsted by
anyone. We are equal to some men, and yet not equal; equal in
intention, which is all that they care for, which is all that we