, a Cynic philosopher, who flourished during the reign of Adrian, in the second century, was a native of Cyprus, and descended from a family of wealth and high rank; but preferring a life of philosophic study to the employments which his birth and fortune might have commanded, he removed to Athens while he was young, and there spent the remainder of his days. In his manners and habits, he was in some respects the imitator of Diogenes, and hence he obtained a rank among the Cynics, though he never professed himself to be of any sect. From them all he selected what was excellent, and most favourable to moral wisdom; and like Socrates, he endeavoured to make philosophy not a speculative science, but the rule of life and manners. He was virtuous without ostentation, and was able to reprove vice without acrimony, and with the happiest effect. So high was his reputation, that the greatest deference was paid to his opinion in the assemblies of the Athenian people. After his death, which was not till he had attained the age of an hundred, he was honoured with a public funeral, attended with a numerous train of philosophers, and others who lamented the loss of so estimable a character. Lucian, from whom alone we have any account of Demonax, furnishes also the following anecdotes. Soon after Demonax came to Athens, a public charge was brought against him for neglecting to offer sacrifice to Minerva, and to be initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries. Appearing before the assembly in a white garment, he pleaded that Minerva did not stand in need of his offerings; and that he declined initiation into the | mysteries, because, if they were bad, he ought not to conceal them; and if they were good, his love to mankind would oblige him to disclose them: upon which he was acquitted. One of his companions proposing to go to the temple of Esculapius, to pray for the recovery of his son from sickness, Demonax said: “Do you suppose that Esculapius cannot hear you as well from this place?” Hearing two ignorant pretenders to philosophy conversing, and remarking that the one asked foolish questions, and the other made replies which were nothing to the purpose, he said, “One of these men is milking a he-goat, while the other is holding a sieve under him.” Advising a certain rhetorician, who was a wretched declaimar, to perform frequent exercises, the rhetorician answered, “I frequently practise by myself.” “No wonder,” replied Demonax, “that you are so bad a speaker, when you practise before so foolish an audience.” Seeing a Spartan beating his servant unmercifully, he said to him, “Why do you thus put yourself upon a level with your slave?” When Demonax was informed that the Athenians had thoughts of erecting an amphitheatre for gladiators, in imitation of the Corinthians, he went into the assembly, and cried out, “Athenians, before you make this resolution, go and pull down the altar of mercy.1