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Your sister has not the fit upon her?” asked Polemo of Aristo aside, neither liking her reception of him, nor knowing what to say. “Not at all, dear thing,” answered Aristo; “she is all attention for you to begin.” “Natives of Greece,” at length said he, “natives of Greece should know each other; they deserve to know each other; there is a secret sympathy between them.

It is most inconsistent: yet what can I do?” Polemo had said what he considered enough. He was one of those who sold his words. He had already been over-generous, and was disposed to give away no more. After a time, Callista said, “Polemo, do you believe in one God?” “Certainly,” he answered; “I believe in one eternal, self-existing something.” “Well,” she said, “I feel that God within my heart.

But when Xenocrates had finished his discourse, Polemo approached him with all the humility of conscious guilt, and begged to become his disciple, telling him that he had that day gained the most glorious conquest that had ever been achieved by reason and philosophy, by inspiring with the love of virtue a mind that had been hitherto plunged in folly and sensuality.

They reminded me of the refinements of some of the young adventurers from Athens, who occasionally have resorted here for the purpose of elucidating the doctrines of your great master pseudo-philosophers and tyros, I perceive you are waiting to term them. Is it so that you denominate Polemo the Athenian, who as I learn is now here with the benevolent design of enlightening my people?

Well, I wish to get out, if I could, most learned Polemo,” said Callista sadly. “May Polemo of Rhodes speak frankly to Callista of Proconnesus?” asked Polemo. “I would not speak to every one. If so, let me ask, what keeps you here?” “The magistrates of Sicca and this iron chain,” answered Callista. “I would I could be elsewhere; I would I were not what I am.”

We shall not trace here the history of the Old Academy, or speak of the innovations on the system of Plato, silently introduced by the austere Polemo. When Zeno, however, who was his pupil, advocated the same rigid tenets in a more open and dogmatic form, the Academy at length took the alarm, and a reaction ensued.

I should recommend him to go to Polemo; if any one could disabuse her mind, it is he.” “True, true,” cried Aristo, starting up, “but, no, you can do it better; you have power with the government. The Proconsul will listen to you. The magistrates here are afraid of him; they don’t wish to touch the poor girl, not they.

You have, I doubt not, read the story of Polemo, who, from a debauched young man, became a celebrated philosopher, and a model of virtue, only by attending a single moral lecture." "Indeed," said Mr Merton, "I am ashamed to confess that the various employments and amusements in which I have passed the greater part of my life have not afforded me as much leisure for reading as I could wish.

What! not know the great Polemo of Rhodes, the friend of Plotinus, the pupil of Theagenes, the disciple of Thrasyllus, the hearer of Nicomachus, who was of the school of Secundus, the doctor of the new Pythagoreans? Not feel the presence in Sicca of Polemo, the most celebrated, the most intolerable of men?

This was Zeno, the son of Polemo, once king of the curtailed Pontus, and afterwards of the Lesser Armenia, an outlying Roman dependency. The Armenians themselves suggested that Zeno should be their monarch; and Germanicus saw a way out of his difficulties in the suggestion.