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Updated: June 15, 2025
There was a great dispute among them about who should bury him; but when on the eve of breaking out into open violence, the magistrates and old men of Corinth opportunely arrived to appease the disturbance. Diogenes was buried beside the gate lying toward the isthmus. There was erected, beside his tomb, a dog of Parian marble.
And after this manner some one anciently mocked Diogeries, who, in the depth of winter and quite naked, went embracing an image of snow for a trial of his endurance: the other seeing him in this position, "Art thou now very cold?" said he. "Not at all," replied Diogenes. "Why, then," pursued the other, "what difficult and exemplary thing dost thou think thou doest in embracing that snow?"
Had Diogenes succeeded in discovering an honest man he could not have felt greater satisfaction than these girls felt at the sight of that modest little oval tub, with its sawdust covering; and the way in which it was pounced upon, and borne in triumph to the laundry, brings my story of that night's revels to a climax, and no more need be told.
A man who could turn his back upon the town and civilization like that must be some great philosopher, greater than Socrates or Diogenes, living perhaps "from a deep principle," "simplifying life, returning to nature," having put off many things, "luxuries, comforts, human society, even his feet, wrestling with his thoughts." He outdid himself.
"Even if they did," I declared, "as a choice between them and the Polydores I would say, 'Oh, Mosquito, where is thy sting?" A Flirt and a Woman-Hater The next morning I arose early and screened in the little birdhouse balcony. There was a large piece of netting left and Silvia converted it into a robe and headgear for the swaddling of Diogenes.
He therefore went to the Temple of Ceres, escorted by all his courtiers, on purpose to visit him. Diogenes was lying on the ground in front of his tub, warming himself in the rays of the sun. Alexander, drawing near, stood between the philosopher and the sun, and tried to begin a conversation; but Diogenes gave surly answers, and seemed to pay little heed to his visitor.
I shall only observe further, that the life of Plato, by Olympiodorus, was prefixed to this translation, in preference to that by Diogenes Laertius, because the former is the production of a most eminent Platonist, and the latter of a mere historian, who indiscriminately gave to the public whatever anecdotes he found in other authors.
This answer is said to have so greatly surprised Alexander, and to have filled him with such a feeling of admiration for the greatness of mind of a man who could treat him with such insolent superiority, that when he went away, while all around were jeering and scoffing he said, "Say what you will; if I were not Alexander, I would be Diogenes."
"Where in the world do you suppose he landed?" asked Rob. Just then the missing one came around the house clasping a bologna sausage in his fist. "Ye Gods and little Polydores!" exclaimed Rob. I caught Diogenes by the arm and rushed him in to Silvia. I found her in company with an old colored mammy, who was laundress for the hotel.
He hasn't missed his mother, but I really believe he'd be homesick without me." "Take him, of course," I said. "He's manageable away from the others. I plainly see you've formed the Polydore habit, and maybe a partial parting from the Polydores would be wiser, but we'll take Diogenes as an antidote against too perfect a time. But I forgot to tell you that I had a letter from Rob today.
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