I will tell you, said I, what at least seems plain to me. For in reality philosophy is a very great advantage, and most precious in the sight of God, to whom, by its own intrinsic worth, it leads us and commends us. And they who have applied their minds to philosophy are in truth holy. What however philosophy is, and for what reason it was sent down to men, has escaped the notice of most people. For otherwise there would not be Platonists or Stoics, or Peripatetics, or Theoreticians, or Pythagoreans, this system of knowledge being a unity.
But the reason why it has become a hydra of many heads I should like to explain.
It happened that they who first handled philosophy, and for this reason became famous, were followed by men who made no investigation about truth, but were only amazed at their patience and self-restraint and their unfamiliar diction, and supposed that whatever each learned from his own teacher was true. And then they, when they had handed on to their successors all such things, and others like them, were themselves called by the name borne by the originator of the teaching.
So at first, as I myself had the same desire to come into contact with one of these, I put myself into the hands of a certain Stoic, and as, after I had spent a fair time with him, I got no further with respect to God (for he did not know himself and he was continually saying that this learning was not necessary) I withdrew from him, and came to another, called a Peripatetic, a sharp fellow, as he supposed. And after bearing with me for a few days he thought that I ought to fix his fees, that our intercourse should not be without profit to us! So for this reason I left him, for I did not think that he was a philosopher at all.
But as my soul was still painfully full of desire to hear the special note and the supreme excellence of philosophy, I addressed myself to a Pythagorean of great reputation, a man who devoted much thought to wisdom. Whereupon, as I began conversation with him, desiring to be one of his hearers and associates, ‘Well,’ he said, ‘have you paid attention to music and astronomy and geometry? For surely you do not suppose that you will get a clear vision of any of the things that contribute to happiness, if you were not first taught those which will draw the soul away from the visible, and make it fit for the intellectual, so that it may have a clear vision both of the noble and the good as they are in themselves?’
And when he had greatly praised these branches of learning, and had insisted on the necessity of them, he dismissed me, for I confessed to him that I knew them not. I felt vexed therefore, as might be supposed, at being thus disappointed of my hope, and the more so as I thought he did know something. Reckoning also once more the time I should have to spend on those subjects, I could not bear to put things off so long.
Now in my distress I thought it well to have recourse to the followers of Plato, for their reputation also was high. Accordingly I had as much intercourse as I could with an intelligent man, a leading man among the Platonists, recently come to live in our city, and I was making good progress, advancing more and more every day. I was quite enraptured with the perception of immaterial things, and the contemplation of ideas added wings to my intelligence, and within a short time I supposed I had become wise, and in my obtuseness was hoping to have forthwith a clear vision of God. For this is the aim of Plato’s philosophy.