hat he is not deceived. Who
must? The wise and good man. This then is all that is wanting to you.
Have you successfully worked out the rest? Are you free from deception
in the matter of money? If you see a beautiful girl do you resist the
appearance? If your neighbor obtains an estate by will, are you not
vexed? Now is there nothing else wanting to you except unchangeable
firmness of mind ([Greek: ametaptosia])? Wretch, you hear these very
things with fear and anxiety that some person may despise you, and with
inquiries about what any person may say about you. And if a man come and
tell you that in a certain conversation in which the question was, Who
is the best philosopher, a man who was present said that a certain
person was the chief philosopher, your little soul which was only a
finger's length stretches out to two cubits. But if another who is
present says, You are mistaken; it is not worth while to listen to a
certain person, for what does he know? he has only the first principles,
and no more? then you are confounded, you grow pale, you cry out
immediately, I will show him who I am, that I am a great philosopher. It
is seen by these very things: why do you wish to show it by others? Do
you not know that Diogenes pointed out one of the sophists in this way
by stretching out his middle finger? And then when the man was wild with
rage, This, he said, is the certain person: I have pointed him out to
you. For a man is not shown by the finger, as a stone or a piece of
wood; but when any person shows the man's principles, then he shows him
as a man.

Let us look at your principles also. For is it not plain that you value
not at all your own will ([Greek: proairesis]), but you look externally
to things which are independent of your will? For instance, what will a
certain person say? and what will people think of you? Will you be
considered a man of learning; have you read Chrysippus or Antipater? for
if you have read Archedamus also, you have every thing (that you can
desire). Why you are still uneasy lest you should not show us who you
are? Would you let me tell you what manner of man you have shown us that
you are? You have exhibited yourself to us as a mean fellow, querulous,
passionate, cowardly, finding fault with everything, blaming everybody,
never quiet, vain: this is what you have exhibited to us. Go away now
and read Archedamus; then if a mouse should leap down and make a noise,
you are a dead man. For such a