Discourses - Book III   

perturbations, disorders, bad fortune, misfortunes, sorrows,
lamentations and envy; that which makes men envious and jealous; and
by these causes we are unable even to listen to the precepts of
reason. The second topic concerns the duties of a man; for I ought not
to be free from affects like a statue, but I ought to maintain the
relations natural and acquired, as a pious man, as a son, as a father,
as a citizen.
The third topic is that which immediately concerns those who are
making proficiency, that which concerns the security of the other two,
so that not even in sleep any appearance unexamined may surprise us,
nor in intoxication, nor in melancholy. "This," it may be said, "is
above our power." But the present philosophers neglecting the first
topic and the second, employ themselves on the third, using
sophistical arguments, making conclusions from questioning,
employing hypotheses, lying. "For a man must," as it is said, "when
employed on these matters, take care that 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? 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 "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 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, 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 Archedemus also, you have everything. Why are you
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