of practical importance, which alone can make it worth recording.

Proceeding with our narrative: From Sinope Diogenes came to Athens, at that time the seat of refinement and the school of ancient wisdom. Even here, among the greatest minds that the age produced, or perhaps indeed any age has witnessed, he soon became distinguished above all others, by the same burning desire for knowledge and the same chainless spirit of inquiry that had before distinguished him among his countrymen.

In each of the various systems which divided the Athenian thinkers, he found much to admire and something to disapprove; but among them he particularly favored with his approbation the so-called Cynics, a brief sketch of whose views we must subjoin as indispensable in delineating the character of their most powerful proselyte and advocate.

The sect was founded by Antisthenes, a philosopher of the highest order. Descended from an Athenian father, he inherited all the quickness and acumen of that extraordinary people--probably the most extraordinary for an excessive share of these qualities that the world has ever seen-which he early cultivated in the highest degree, by the arduous study of abstract subjects in metaphysics. After having disciplined his own vigorous intellect by a long course of most laborious reflection, and brought to maturity his new philosophy, he began to teach it, in conjunction with rhetorical lectures, with unrivalled success. He had so far triumphed over the ingenious superstitions of his time, as to recognize the existence of one only living and true God. In consideration of man's high station and destiny, he thought it wrong to waste life in the acquisition of wealth, which he justly considered contemptible, or to fill up valuable time with paltry cares about the personal

appearance, the dress, the trim of beard, and those other equal trifles that demand and receive from most men, so much more attention than their consequence deserves. He censured with a proper asperity the trivial pursuits which engrossed so improperly the thoughts of his fellow-citizens, and also that false shame which holds it indecent to obey the dictates of nature; on which account he was opprobriously termed, by such as had not mind enough to appreciate his more enlightened views, a Cynic, i. e., a canine philosopher. He indignantly dispensed with all those artificial accommodations which a false education renders necessary for the gratification of artificial desires, but which are truly more a curse than a blessing to men; and he also advised such as had no other prospect in life than certain misery, to cut short the vital thread, and thus with their own hand-avert rather than endure unescapable and irremediable evil. These were the principal distinguishing notions of the founder of the Cynic sect. He propounded them with transparent clearness and the most attractive eloquence, in his public lectures, and enforced them with that strongest and most persuasive commentary on any ethical system, an exemplary private life-in which particular we regret being compelled to state that all his disciples, as is usual with those of every reformer, were not so prudent as to imitate him.

After he had heard the god-like Socrates, that grand luminary of ancient philosophy, he dismissed his school, and becoming himself a pupil of that master mind, adopted into his own system the capital tenets of his revered instructor. When asked by one of those near-sighted utilitarians from whom no age has been free, whose narrow minds are always doubting the value of aught that conduces not directly to sensual pleasure, what philosophy had

taught him he made the remarkable reply, "To live at peace with myself;" a most pointed and appropriate rebuke to one who, while he "with reversed ambition strives to sink," is continually at war with his own aspiring na

ture.

Such as we have represented was Cynicism as taught by its author: a truly noble system, and if we consider when and where originated, wonderful for the proportion of valuable truth that it contained, mingled with so little error that perhaps as a whole no better way, excepting ever the divine religion of that mysterious God-man who is "the way, the truth and the life" of his humble followers, has ever been pointed out for the direction of human conduct.

This philosophy, so pure and elevated, had irresistible charms for a mind like that of Diogenes. He went to the house of Antisthenes, and expressed his desire to be admitted as a disciple. But the haughty old cynic, disgusted involuntarily by the rudeness of his personal appearance, and prejudiced perhaps by false reports of his grossness, and by true stories of his keen satirical humor, suspecting it may be that his object was merely to learn enough of the system to ridicule its teacher, so far forgot his own liberal principles as in a rough manner to repel his advances; and when he still insisted, even struck him violently with his staff. With the insult Diogenes was too great to be made angry, but with admirable coolness addressed his injurer in a reply which ought to be forever remembered as one of the highest specimens of the moral sublime: "Strike me, Antisthenes, strike me if you choose to do so, but be assured that you will never thus succeed in dissuading me from the pursuit of what I am convinced may be learned from your acquaintance and conversation." So noble a return to so gross an injury, at once revealed the magnanimity of

the man.

He was received as he desired to be, and soon became the especial favorite of his master.

And here let us pause for a moment, to inquire how many there are who, in the nineteenth century, boasting of modern light and knowledge, and professing themselves the followers of that forgiving Nazarene, as well as the friends of wisdom and of man, but who, in their unchristian pride, despise their less favored brothers of other times, and particularly the poor old cynic of Athens-how many of these would have had the intellect or the heart to thus respond to a painful blow, inflicted with every aggravation of circumstance? O! we shall do well to learn, and then not soon forget, that we are but men, even as the despised beings about us, subject to like infirmities as our fellows; that others are quite likely to have as pure motives, as generous feelings, as noble sentiments, as ourselves. When we feel this truth (forgotten as it seems to be by almost all) inspiring all our relative actions, then and not before may we flatter ourselves that we are in advance of more benighted ages than our own.

Another lesson may be drawn from this incident, and that is, the folly of judging from external appearance merely. How prone are we too to estimate a man in accordance with the indications of his exterior, and even after repeated instances have shown us our liability in so doing to mistake! If a man be plainly dressed and unshaved; if his hair be longer than the fashionable trim and not well oiled and brushed; if his manners be somewhat rigid and his address not very insinuating; we are quite. inclined to regard him at once as a disagreeable companion, and to desire no farther acquaintance. And if, in addition to all these heinous sins, he be quite or nearly destitute of money, the world will assuredly vote with us and doom

him to a perpetual banishment from all self-styled good society. And yet that man may wear behind his shocking mask, features all radiant with intellect and goodness; "some mind formed in the finest mould and wrought for immortality; a soul swelling with the energies and stamped with the patent of the Deity."

"A soul on fire and waiting but its time

To burst with Etna grandeur on the world."

How should we blush to meet such a one, whom in his days of darkness we had slighted and perhaps insulted, in the glorious moment of his culmination ! "Be not forget

ful," is the precept of our holy book, " to entertain stran. gers, for in so 'doing some have entertained angels unawares." Be not forgetful, is the dictate of politeness, of wisdom and of Jesus, to entreat with benevolent civility every brother-man with whom you chance to meet you may find that in so doing to the least you have done so to the greatest.

In adopting the cynic philosophy, Diogenes was not guilty of the cowardly misbehavior, but too common in all and more especially in the present times, of professing what he dared not practice; of believing what a dastardly regard for popular opinion would not suffer him to live. No! he nobly assumed the plain attire which constituted the only badge of his order: he occupied the humble habitation which his circumstances of extreme indigence rendered necessary, without fearing the contemptuous jeers of such as could not comprehend his conduct: he proceeded without regard, or more probably with the regard of pity, (which is the feeling of a truly great mind for the infirmi ties of others,) for the idiotic stare which then as now greeted any, even the slightest, deviation from absurdly custo