The Path Makers

"Look at that old fool hopping on one leg. Who is he?"
"He is a very great man- a philosopher."
The old man would sometimes stumble and fall over, only to, and with no sign of emotion, slowly pick himself up and hop onwards.
"What the hell is he doing?"
"He is on the arduous path to truth."
"He's mad."
"Such naivety. A very great man."
Some distance behind the old sage slowly approached another hopping elderly man ascending the same dreary hill, but this one accompanied by a younger who would occasionally stick out a leg and trip up the one hopping leg of the elder.
"What a bastard!"
"Oh no, you have it all wrong. He is also a great philosopher, and the younger fellow is his servant."
"And how is he helping things?"
"This philosopher is also beating the difficult path to truth, but by mortifying the body the servant is helping reconcile the mind to reality."
That man, having tumbled to the ground after a sharp movement of his servant's left leg, put his weight on his two arms, raised himself a little, looked towards the first man hopping stiffly onwards, and shouted, "My path is more difficult!" upon which the first man glanced backwards, and muttered to himself, "But I will get there first", and continued onwards at a slightly heightened speed, which break in his rhythm, however, disturbed his balance, and the angular contraption of his body tumbled over yet again.