and manliest good sense, he entirely repudiated that dog-like brutality of behaviour, and repulsive eccentricity of self-neglect, which characterised not a few of the Cynic leaders.  He expressly argues that the Cynic should be a man of ready tact, and attractive presence; and there is something of almost indignant energy in his words when he urges upon a pupil the plain duty of scrupulous cleanliness.  In this respect our friends the Hermits would not quite have satisfied him, although he might possibly have pardoned them on the plea that they abode in desert solitudes, since he bids those who neglect the due care of their bodies to live “either in the wilderness or alone.”

Late in life Epictetus increased his establishment by taking in an old woman as a servant.  The cause of his doing so shows an almost Christian tenderness of character.  According to the hideous custom of infanticide which prevailed in the pagan world, a man with whom Epictetus was acquainted exposed his infant son to perish.  Epictetus in pity took the child home to save its life, and the services of a female were necessary to supply its wants.  Such kindness and self-denial were all the more admirable because pity, like all other deep emotions, was regarded by the Stoics in the light rather of a vice than of a virtue.  In this respect, however, both Seneca and Epictetus, and to a still greater extent Marcus Aurelius, were gloriously false to the rigidity of the school to which they professed to belong.  We see with delight that one of the Discourses of Epictetus was On the Tenderness and Forbearance due to Sinners; and he abounds in exhortations to forbearance in judging others.  In one of his Fragments he tells the following anecdote:—­A person who had seen a poor ship-wrecked and almost dying pirate took pity on him, carried him home, gave him clothes, and furnished him with all the necessaries of life.  Somebody reproached him for doing good to the wicked—­“I have honoured,” he replied, “not the man, but humanity in his person.”

But one fact more is known in the life of Epictetus, Domitian, the younger son of Vespasian, succeeded his far nobler brother the Emperor Titus; and in the course of his reign a decree was passed which banished all the philosophers from Italy.  Epictetus was not exempted from this unjust and absurd decree.  That he bore it with equanimity may be inferred from the approval with which he tells an anecdote about Agrippinus, who while his cause was being tried in the Senate went on with all his usual avocations, and on being informed on his return from bathing that he had been condemned, quietly asked, “To death or banishment?” “To banishment,” said the messenger.  “Is my property confiscated?” “No,” “Very well, then let us go as far as Aricia” (about sixteen miles from Rome), “and dine there.”