All my difficulty lies here. For, whichever of them I approach, a man who stands at the beginning of each path at the entrance, a very trustworthy person, stretches out his hand, and urges me to go off along his road, and each one of them says that he alone knows the direct route and that the others are astray, since they have neither gone there themselves nor followed others able to lead them. If I go to his neighbour, he makes similar promises


 


about his own road and vilifies the others. The man next to him acts similarly, and so do they all in turn. The number of roads, then, and the differences between them, and especially the way the guides over-strain themselves, each sect praising its own, worries me immoderately and makes me uncertain. I don’t know which way to turn or which one to follow to reach the city. HERMOTIMUS I will free you from your uncertainty. Trust those who have made the journey before, Lycinus, and you cannot go wrong. LYCINUS Whom do you mean? Which road did they go? Which of the guides did they follow? The same uncertainty appears to us in another guise shifting from events to persons. HERMOTIMUS What do you mean? LYCINUS That the man who took Plato’s path and had him for travelling-companion will obviously praise Plato’s route, and so with Epicurus’s and the rest and you with yours. What about it, Hermotimus? Is that not so? HERMOTIMUS Of course. LYCINUS Then you have not freed me from my uncertainty. I am just as much in the dark which of the travellers


 


to trust. For I see that each of them and the guide himself have tried only one way, and he praises that one and says that it alone leads to the city. But I cannot know whether he is speaking the truth. That he has reached some destination and has seen some city or other, I will perhaps grant him. But whether he has seen the one he should have seen (that in which you and I want to live) or whether, when he should have gone to Corinth, he has arrived at Babylon and thinks he has seen Corinth, I still do not know—certainly not everyone who has seen a city has seen Corinth, if Corinth is not the only city. What particularly makes me uncertain is this—my knowing that only one road can possibly be the right one. Only one road is the Corinth road, and the other roads lead anywhere except to Corinth, unless a man is so much out of his wits as to think that both the road to the Hyperboreans and the road to India lead to Corinth. HERMOTIMUS How could that be, Lycinus? Different roads lead to different places. LYCINUS Well then, my dear Hermotimus, no little deliberation is needed when we choose roads and guides, and we shall not act according to the saying and go off wherever our feet take us; in that way we shall be going off on the road to Babylon or Bactra instead of the road to Corinth without realising it. It is by no means sound to trust to fortune and hope we shall perhaps take the best road, if we start out on


 


one or the other without enquiry. It is possible for even that to happen, and perhaps at some period of time’s long history it has already happened; but in a matter of such importance I think we ought not to run such a reckless risk or confine hope entirely within narrow bounds, ready as the proverb says to sail the Aegean or Ionian seas on a mat; then we should have no right to accuse fortune, if with her arrows and spears she did not altogether hit the one thing that is true among the many that are not. Even Homer’s archer did not succeed in that—when he should have shot the dove he cut the string; Teucer I think it was.
 Homer, Il. xxiii 867. 
 No, there was much more reason to expect one of the many others to be wounded and fall foul of the arrow than that particular one out of them all. The risk is not slight, if in ignorance we rush into one of the by-ways instead of the straight route in the hope that fortune will make a better choice on our behalf—I think you see that. For still to turn round and come back again in safety is no easy matter once a man casts off his mooring lines and surrenders himself to the wind; he must be tossed about on the sea, usually sick and frightened and with a bad head from the swell, whereas he ought in the first place, before he sailed out, to have climbed up to some look-out and seen whether the wind was fair and favourable for those who wanted to sail over to Corinth, and indeed he ought to have selected the very best navigator and a sound ship able to withstand such a heavy sea. HERMOTIMUS That is the better way, Lycinus, by far. Yet I know that if you made a round tour of them all you would find no others who were better pilots or more experienced navigators than the Stoics; and, if you want to reach Corinth some day, you will follow them, treading the tracks of Chrysippus and Zeno. No other way is possible. LYCINUS Do you see, Hermotimus, how universal is that assertion you have made? Plato’s fellow-traveller, Epicurus’s follower, and the rest of them, would say the same, every one of them, that I could not go to Corinth without his company. So I must either believe them all alike (which is ridiculous) or disbelieve them all alike. The latter is by far the safest course until we discover the true one.
 Come now, suppose that I, just as I am, still ignorant which of them all has the truth, should choose your way, putting my trust in you, a friend, but one who knows only the way of the Stoics and has travelled by this road alone; then suppose one of the gods brought Plato, Pythagoras, Aristotle, and the rest, back to life, and they stood round me and put questions to me, or even, by Zeus, brought me into court and sued me each and every one of them for maltreatment, saying: “My good Lycinus, what was the matter with you? Who persuaded you to give Chrysippus and Zeno preference over us, who are older by far than they? They were born only yesterday, or the day before, and you have given us no chance to speak, and you have put nothing of what we say to the test.” Supposing they said this,


 


how could I answer them? Or will it be enough if I say that I was persuaded by Hermotimus, a friend of mine? Their answer I know would be: “We, Lycinus, do not know this Hermotimus, whoever he is, and he does not know us either. So you had no right to condemn us all and give a judgment in default against us through relying on a man who is acquainted with only one way in philosophy, and even that perhaps not fully. Lawgivers, Lycinus, do not instruct judges to adopt this procedure, or to give one party a hearing and not allow the other to speak on its own behalf what it thinks is to its own advantage. No, they say that both sides must be given an equal hearing, so that by comparing the opposing arguments they may be assisted in discovering the true and the false, and if they do not adopt this procedure the law allows an appeal to another court.”