bstain from
her mysteries, he will pay his devotions at a distance; (Euripides,
"Hippolytus," 102.) but he will not be so cynical and sullen as not to
hear with gladness the commendations of virtuous men like himself; he
will neither engage himself in a restless pursuit of wealth, interest,
or honor, nor will he on the other hand be so rustic and insensible as
to refuse them in a moderate degree, when they fairly come in his way;
in like manner he will not court and follow handsome and beautiful
youth, but will rather choose such as are of a teachable disposition,
of a gentle behavior, and lovers of learning. The charms and graces of
youth will not make a philosopher shy of their conversation, when
the endowments of their minds are answerable to the features of their
bodies. The case is the same when greatness of place and fortune concur
with a well disposed person; he will not therefore forbear loving and
respecting such a one, nor be afraid of the name of a courtier, nor
think it a curse that such attendance and dependence should be his fate.

They that try most Dame Venus to despise
Do sin as much as they who her most prize.
(From the "Veiled Hippolytus" of Euripides, Frag. 431.)

The application is easy to the matter in hand.

A philosopher therefore, if he is of a retired humor, will not avoid
such persons; while one who generously designs his studies for the
public advantage will cheerfully embrace their advances of friendship,
will not bore them to hear him, will lay aside his sophistic terms and
distinctions, and will rejoice to discourse and pass his time with them
when they are disposed.

I plough the wide Berecynthian fields,
Full six days' journey long,
(From the "Niobe" of Aechylus, Frag. 153.)

says one boastingly in the poet; the same man, if he were as much a
lover of mankind as of husbandry, would much rather bestow his pains on
such a farm, the fruits of which would serve a great number, than to be
always dressing the olive-yard of some cynical malcontent, which, when
all was done, would scarce yield oil enough to dress a salad or to
supply his lamp in the long winter evenings. Epicurus himself, who
places happiness in the profoundest quiet and sluggish inactivity, as
the only secure harbor from the storms of this troublesome world, could
not but confess that it is both more noble and delightful to do than to
receive a kindness; (Almost the same words with those of ou