be shipwrecked and cast ashore at the Piræus, like one of your Johns or Thomases.
He strolls into a shop and is charmed by a book by Xenophon—and straightway he becomes a philosopher. The sun of a new life's day rises to him,—serene and unclouded,—which looks over στοά. And still the fleshly Zeno sails on, shipwrecked, buffeted, tempest-tossed; but the true Zeno sails ever a placid sea. Play high, play low,—rain, sleet, or snow,—it 's all the same with the Stoic. "Propriety and decorum" were his Palinurus,—not the base progeny of fashion, but the suggestions of an experienced taste.
When evening comes he sits down unwearied to the review of his day,—what's done that's to be undone, what not done at all still to be done. Himself Truth's unconcerned helpmate. Another system of book-keeping this than that the Cyprian trader to Phœnicia practiced!
This was he who said to a certain garrulous young man, "On this account have we two ears and but one mouth, that we may hear more, and speak less."
That he had talked concerned not our philosopher, but his audience; and herein we may see how it is more noble to hear than to speak. The wisest may apologize that he only said so to hear himself talk, for if he heard not, as well for him had he never spoken. What is all this gabble to the gabbler? Only the silent reap the profit of it.
SOCIETY
Feb. 9. It is wholesome advice,—"to be a man amongst folks." Go into society if you will, or if you are unwilling, and take a human interest in its affairs.
