[67,0] THE SIXTY-SEVENTH DISCOURSE : ON POPULAR OPINION.
(1) (Interlocuteur) Well, in what particular does it seem 
to you that the man of self-control, the philosopher, 
most especially is superior to us who constitute the 
majority of mankind and are moved by random impulse ?
(Dion) It seems to me, if one should express an 
opinion in such plain and unadorned terms, that he 
is superior in respect to truth and knowledge, not 
merely to the majority of mankind, but also to the 
very few, those who are regarded as favoured by 
fortune—the philosopher is, I mean.
(Interlocuteur) Indeed your statement is truly plain and 
unadorned.
(Dion) Well, by Heaven, tell me this. You mean, 
do you not, that the philosopher is superior to all 
others in truth and in his examining each thing in 
the light of truth and not in accordance with opinion ?
(2) (Interlocuteur) Why, my good sir, he would be using a poor 
straight-edge with which to gauge his problems, one 
altogether crooked, a straight-edge, by Zeus, with 
not just one bend but thousands, and all running 
counter to one another, if he tried to set things 
straight by mean of opinion.
(Dion) Well then, suppose that he views all else in 
the light of truth, never applying opinion as a gauge,
because he believes this to be, in fact, a false and 
untrustworthy measuring-line, a straight-edge such as 
you have just described it, yet if he should measure 
himself with that kind of straight-edge and that kind 
of measuring-line, would he be acclaimed as worthy
(Interlocuteur) No, by Heaven, not by any means.
(Dion) Yes, it is plain that he could never come to 
know himself if he examined himself in that fashion. 
(Interlocuteur) Why, of course he could not.
(3) (Dion) Consequently he would no longer be obeying 
the Delphic injunction, which has prescribed that, 
above all, a man must know himself.
(Interlocuteur) Why, of course he would not be obeying it. 
(Dion) Then he will not know any of the other things 
either, since he does not know himself, nor will he 
be able to examine things in the light of truth, since 
he has failed with himself to begin with ?
(Interlocuteur) Why, certainly.
(Dion) Then he will bid farewell to honours and dishonours 
and to words of censure and of praise uttered 
by foolish persons, whether they chance to be many 
or whether they be few but powerful and wealthy. 
Instead, what is called popular opinion he will regard 
as no better than a shadow, seeing that sometimes 
concerning great matters popular opinion is small 
and concerning small matters great, and often concerning 
the same matters it is at one time greater 
and at another smaller.
(Interlocuteur) You seem to me to have made a very excellent 
comparison.
(4) (Dion) Suppose, then, there should be a person so 
constituted as to live with an eye to his own shadow, 
with the result that as it grew he would become
elated and boastful and not only offer a sacrifice of 
thanksgiving to the gods himself but also bid his 
friends to do so, while as his shadow diminished he 
would be grieved and show himself more humble, 
and the more so the smaller his shadow became, 
just as if he himself were wasting away, methinks 
he would afford wondrous amusement.
(Interlocuteur) Yes, he would be a much bigger booby than 
Margites, who did not know how to treat his wife 
once he had married her.

[67,5] (Dion) Yes, for on the same day sometimes he would 
be sad and sometimes happy. For instance, early 
in the day, when he saw his shadow at dawn very 
long, almost larger than the cypresses or the towers 
on the city walls, manifestly he would be happy, 
supposing himself to have suddenly grown to the size 
of the sons of Aloeus, and he would go striding into 
the market-place and the theatres and everywhere 
in the city to be observed by one and all. However, 
about the middle of the morning he would begin to 
grow more sad of countenance than he had been and 
would go back home. Then at noon he would be 
ashamed to be seen by anybody and would stay 
indoors, locking himself up, when he saw his shadow 
at his feet ; yet again, toward afternoon, he would 
begin to recover and would show himself ever more 
and more exultant toward evening.
(6) (Interlocuteur) You certainly seem to me to be fashioning a 
strange disposition and a foolish kind of man.
(Dion) Well then, he who pays heed to popular opinion 
is not a bit better, but rather far more pathetic. 
For often he would undergo several changes on one 
and the same day, yet not, like the man I have imagined, 
at certain definite times, but, alike in the 
afternoon or in the early morning, nothing will keep 
him from being the most unfortunate of mortals, now 
being swept along and flying higher than the clouds, 
if it so happen that any have sent him forth under full 
sail and have praised him, now taking in his sails and 
abasing himself, his spirit experiencing, methinks, far 
more waxings and wanings than the moon. (7) Has he 
not, then, drawn a more wretched fate and a far more 
luckless lot than they say fell to Meleager, son of Althaea 
and Oeneus, whose span of life, men say, was 
in the keeping of a mere firebrand ? So long as the 
brand blazed and the fire remained in it, just so long 
Meleager lived and throve, but as the brand lost its 
strength, he too wasted from grief and despondency, 
and when the fire went out he died and was gone.