He did not mark out for himself a single form of philosophy but combined many of them, and never would quite reveal which one he favoured. Probably he had most in common with Socrates, although he seemed to follow the man of SinopeDiogenes. in dress and in easy-going ways. He did not, however, alter the details of his life in order to excite the wonder and attract the gaze of men he met, but led the same life as everyone else, was simple and not in the least subject to pride, and played his part in society and politics.

He did not cultivate the irony of Socrates ; his conversations were full of Attic charm, so that his visitors, on going away, did not feel contempt for him because he was ill-bred or aversion to his criticisms because they were gloomy, but were beside themselves for joy and were far better, happier and more hopeful of the future than when they came.

He never was known to make an uproar or excite himself or get angry, even if he had to rebuke someone; though he assailed sins, he forgave sinners, thinking that one should pattern after doctors, who heal sicknesses but feel no anger at the sick. He considered that it is human to err, divine or all but divine to set right what has gone amiss.

Leading such“a life, he wanted nothing for himself, but helped his friends in a reasonable way. Some of them, who were seemingly favoured by fortune, he reminded that they were elated over imaginary blessings of brief span. Others, who were bewailing poverty, fretting at exile or finding fault with old age or sickness, he laughingly consoled, saying that they failed to see that after a little they would have surcease of worries and would all soon find oblivion of their fortunes, good and bad, and lasting liberty.