sufficient reason for denying that the name properly belonged to one eminent person, yet it seems clear that it was extended to many others of less note. Thus much appears to have been generally admitted by the ancients; and in the great number of works attributed to Hesiod, one only was held to be genuine by the inhabitants of the district in which he is believed to have lived.* We are thus led to consider him as a poet who exercised an influence similar to that of Homer over his contemporaries and posterity, or as the founder of a poetical school, and to inquire by what means he obtained such influence, and what was the character of his school. In the same poem, which was alone recognised by his countrymen, the poet has given some account of his private condition, by which it appears that he was a native of the Boeotian village of Ascra, at the foot of Helicon, to which his father had migrated, for the sake of bettering his fortune, from Cuma in Æolis. It has been suspected, not on very solid ground, that the harsh epithets which he applies to his native village were prompted by resentment at some wrong which he had suffer

seen in each sanctuary than the idol of its worship, there was little room and motive for innovation; and, on the other hand, there were strong inducements for adhering to the practice of antiquity. But, insensibly, piety or ostentation began to fill the temples with groups of gods and heroes, strangers to the place, and guests of the power who was properly invoked there. The deep recesses of their pediments were peopled with colossal forms, exhibiting some legendary scene, appropriate to the place or the occasion of the building. The custom, which we have already noticed, of honouring the victors at the public games with a statuean honour afterward extended to other distinguished persons-contributed, perhaps, still more to the same effect; for, whatever restraints may have been imposed on the artists in the representation of sacred subjects, either by usage or by a religious scruple, were removed when they were employed in exhibiting the images of mere mortals. As the field of the art was widened to embrace new objects, the number of masters increased: they were no longer limited, where this had before been the case, to families or guilds: their industryed in the division of his small patrimony, about was sharpened by a more active competition and by richer rewards: as the study of nature became more earnest, the sense of beauty grew quicker and steadier; and so rapid was the march of the art, that the last vestiges of the arbitrary forms which had been hallowed by time or religion had not yet everywhere disappeared, when the final union of truth and beauty, which we sometimes endeavour to express by the term ideal, was accomplished in the school of Phidias.

The same observant and inquisitive spirit which was the inmost spring of this new life in the world of art, gave birth, about the same time, to new branches and forms of poetry. The first period of Greek poetry which is known to us otherwise than by tradition is entirely filled by the names of Homer and Hesiod. When these names are regarded as representatives of a period, they may not improperly be coupled together, as they are by Herodotus, and in the legend which describes the two poets as engaged in a poetical contest. But the works which have been transmitted to us under their names lead to the conclusion that the name of Homer marks the beginning, that of Hesiod the close of the period. This, however, is not the sole, or the main distinction between them it may rather be said that they approach one another only in the outward forms of versification and dialect, but in other respects move in two totally different spheres. The Homeric poems, therefore, stand, throughout the whole of this period, completely alone. Yet it cannot be imagined that they exhibit more than a very small part of its poetical produce; and the silence of history as to the rest would be surprising, if it were not probable, not only that the names of many contemporary bards have been lost in the lustre of Homer's, but that their works frequently served as a basis for celebrated labours of subsequent poets, and hence were soon neglected and forgotten.

The collection which passes under the name of Hesiod contains works or fragments of many different authors; and though there may not be

which he had a dispute with his brother. In another poem he describes himself as tending a flock on the side of Helicon. Unless we entirely reject the authority of these passages, we must believe that he was born in an humble station, and was himself engaged in rural pursuits; and this perfectly accords with the subject of the poem which was unanimously ascribed to him, the Works and Days, which is a collection of reflections and precepts relating to husbandry and the regulation of a rural household. We have, perhaps, only some disjointed portions of the original work, interpolated with passages which did not belong to it. But what we have is sufficient to afford a distinct notion of the spirit and character of the whole, and it excites our surprise and curiosity as to two points. Nothing can be conceived much more homely, or more sparingly enlivened with poetical ornaments, than this didactic work, which nevertheless appears to have been the sole or the main basis of Hesiod's reputation. That it should have raised him to such celebrity is the more remarkable, as the subject itself was not one which possessed any dignity or attraction in the eyes of the warlike races which became the lords of Greece after the Return of the Heracleids. In the dull fiction, indeed, which describes a contest between Homer and Hesiod, the prize is awarded to the latter, on the ground that he had dedicated his strains to the encouragement of rural and peaceful labours, not to the description of battles and carnage. But when we remember that at Thespiæ, to which the poet's birthplace was subject, agriculture was held degrading to a freeman, and how contemptuously the Spartan Cleomenes spoke of Hesiod as the Helot's poet, in contrast with Homer, the delight of the warrior, we may conceive with how little favour such a production as the Works and Days was likely to be received by the wealthy and powerful among the poet's contemporaries. Another difficulty

Paus., ix., 31, 4.

+ By Goettling, in his edition of Hesiod, p. iv.
Heracl. Pont., 42.

Plut., Apoph. Lac. Cleom., 1.

all the political convulsions and consequent changes of dialect which took place after the Trojan war.

The two centuries following the beginning of the Olympiads were still very rich in epic song; and this may be considered as the close of that poetry which issued in natural and unbroken succession from the schools of Homer and Hesiod, though it was revived from time to time in every subsequent age of Greek literature. The epic poets of the period just mentioned, or a part of them, are usually comprehended under the title of the Cyclics, or poets of the Cycle, terms probably of late invention, and the precise meaning of which has been the subject of much dispute. It seems, however, most probable that the word Cycle denoted a collection of epic poems, the subjects of which were confined to a certain range of time, and were so distribu

arises, if we suppose that this was not his only work, and that, even if the others which have come down to us under his name did not proceed directly from him, they nevertheless represent the real themes of his song. The most considerable of them, the Theogony, turns upon subjects which might have been thought the most foreign of all to the poet of the plough. It ascends to the birth of the gods and the origin of nature, and unfolds the whole order of the world, in a series of genealogies, which personify the beings of every kind contained in it. In a third poem, of which only a few fragments remain, the poet has not taken a flight quite so lofty; but still, in a vein not more pastoral, he assigns the birth of the most illustrious heroes to the mortal mothers who drew the inhabitants of Olympus down to the earth. Some explanation is necessary to account for the choice of arguments apparently so incongru-ted as to form one compact body, though there ous; and the most satisfactory seems to be that which is suggested by the legends of the poet's parentage and education. It was on Helicon, the ancient seat of the Thracian Muses, that he was born and bred, and the genealogy which traced his origin, through a long line of their favourites and worshippers, to Apollo himself, may be looked upon as a pleasing veil of an interesting truth. He was the poet, not of the Baotian conquerors, but of the people, of the peasantry; which, though overpowered by a foreign race, preserved its ancient recollections, and a rich treasure of sacred and oracular poetry. For this people he collected, in a fuller, perhaps, and a more graceful body, the precepts with which the simple wisdom of their forefathers had ordered their rural labours and their domestic life. From the songs of their earlier bards, and the traditions of their temples, he probably drew the knowledge of nature and of superhuman things, which he delivered in the popular form of the Theogony; and this subject naturally brought him to the birth of the heroes, which connected his poetry with the chivalrous epic of Homer. His fame became thus established as a teacher of Divine and human wisdom, and his name represents the whole poetical growth of the Baotian and Locrian schools -for Locris likewise claimed him by the legend of his death and his grave*-from the Trojan war to the beginning of the Olympiads.

If this explanation is sufficient to account for the contrast between Homer and Hesiod in the choice of their subjects, it may also serve to throw some light on another point no less obscure their resemblance in that peculiar form of the Greek language which continued ever after to be appropriated to the use of epic poetry. This resemblance between two poets so near to each other in time, and so widely separated by situation, and still more by their genius and aims, may be considered as an indication of the common origin from which their poetry was derived. It was probably among the countrymen of Hesiod, by the labours of the bards from whom he is said to have sprung, in the oracular shrines of Helicon and Parnassus, that the epic style was formed, and hence passed over into Asia with the Ionians, while it was preserved in Boeotia and the rest of Greece unaffected by

* Paus., ix., 31, 5. Plut., Sep. Sap. Conv., 19.

is no reason to think that the design of such a whole entered into the mind of any one of the authors. The period over which their subjects were spread began with the union of Heaven and Earth, or the origin of all things, and ended with the latest adventures of Ulysses in Ithaca, the close of the heroic age. The poems themselves are all lost; but the titles of between twenty and thirty have been preserved, and in a few instances a short account of their contents. The works thus distinguished were those which related to the story of Troy, and were manifestly designed to fill up the blanks left by the Iliad and Odyssey. Thus one poett sang of the events which took place between the death of Hector and that of Achilles: another‡ supplied those of the interval which followed down to the burning of Troy: a third carried the heroes to their homes; while a fourth|| went back to the secret origin of the fatal feud, the counsel of Jupiter to lighten the earth, which groaned under the numbers and the arrogance of mankind, and showed how his purpose was accomplished, through the weakness of Helen, the treachery of the Trojans, and the union of the Greeks. The whole Cycle was conceived by the Greek critics to depend entirely on Homer: it was sometimes said to be his work;¶ and some of the principal poems were expressly ascribed to him ;** and even where, as happened in a few cases, chiefly those of the poets of what may be called the Trojan cycle, the name of the real author had been preserved from oblivion, he was sometimes represented as Homer's disciple or son-in-law. Yet it seems to have been only on the poets of the Trojan cycle that Homer exerted any direct influence. The others chose their ground in "the wide field which lay open to them, probably with as little reference to him as to one another, and some of them may perhaps be more properly regarded as disciples of Hesiod, since we find that their poems were chiefly filled with heroic

See Wuellner, De Cyclo, or Kreuser, Rhaps., p. 179190. + Arctinus of Miletus, in the Ethiopis. Lesches of Mitylene, in his little Iliad.

Augias or Hagias of Trazen, in his Nóσro (Returns), the only epos perhaps known under that name (Nitzsch, subject. Melet., p. 116), though there were several on the same

Stasinus or Hegesias (or Diceogenes? Aristot., Poet., 16), in the Cypria. Procl., Gaisf., p. 468. **As Stasinus, Arctinus, Creophylus. †† Paus., ix., 9, 5. Herod., ii., 117; iv., 32.

genealogies. The legends of Argos, of Cor- | thing less than a most lively and faithful picture inth, of Thebes, and Orchomenus, the adven- of the whole life of the nation, political, religious, tures of Hercules, of Theseus, and the Argo- and domestic, from the greatest to the minutest nauts, supplied abundant materials for all. The features, for two or three most interesting cenremark of a Greek critic,† that the poems of the turies, during which we are very scantily supepic cycle was valued by most readers, not so plied with information from other sources. This much on account of their excellence as for the will, perhaps, be the better understood if we connexion of their contents, though it does not cast a look at the nature, origin, and progress imply that they were deficient in poetical merit, of this species of poetry. It was the expression may intimate that the poetical interest, which of the thoughts and feelings belonging to the in the Homeric works is predominant, if not ex- various occasions of life, public and private, clusive, was in them subordinate to one of a sacred and profane, or to the poet's individual different kind, which concerned the succession character and situation; in all cases, however, of events. And in this sense the Cycle may be designed not, like the lyrical poetry of modern considered as a prelude to history, and as an times, for the enjoyment of solitary readers, but indication of a tendency to historical research, to awaken the sympathy of some larger or narwhich, however, did not manifest itself more rower social circle. In this sense a lyrical distinctly till near the close of this period. poetry undoubtedly existed among the Greeks from the earliest times, partly sacred, partly popular. The former probably did not differ, in its metrical form, from the epos, which in this respect appears to have adhered to the model of the ancient hymnody. The popular poetry was undoubtedly free from the fetters of art, as it borrowed none of its aids. But the period between the beginning of the Olympiads and the Persian wars was one of great excitement, of growing refinement, and of manifold innovations. New dynasties and new forms of government were continually springing up; commerce was spreading, wealth and luxury increasing; discoveries and inventions were rapidly multiplied. All these changes ministered fresh occasions and subjects for lyric song, and the poets who cultivated it vied with each other in the variety of forms which they applied to them.

As the principal parts of the mythical outline were gradually filled up, and the public taste began to be satiated with subjects similar in their kind, and treated with a great uniformity of tone and style, the poetical genius of the nation took a new direction, and though it did not abandon the epic field, yet both ranged over it with greater freedom, and explored many fresh regions. The period in which the lyrical poetry of the Greeks was carried to its highest perfection includes the last stage in the career of the epic Muse. After the beginning of the Olympiads, the Cycle seems to have become less and less attractive, while for upward of three centuries a series of great masters of lyric songs were continually enlarging and enriching the sphere of their art. Their names were not obscured, like those of the Cyclic poets, by the lustre of Homer's; but of their works, those of Pindar excepted, only a few scanty fragments remain to justify the admiration they excited. Yet even these fragments would be sufficient to confirm the unanimous judgment of antiquity, if its authority left room for any doubt, and to afford the melancholy conviction that the loss we have suffered in the master-pieces of Greek lyrical poetry is, in a literary point of view, not inferior to any which we have to deplore in the whole range of ancient literature. The extant works of Pindar, admirable as they are, neither compensate for this loss, nor enable us to estimate its full extent. Even if it was certain that his genius was unequalled, still it could not replace the freshness which we might expect to find in the earlier gushes of the lyric vein, nor the peculiar character which distinguished each of the other poets, nor that which belonged to the several schools formed by the great tribes or branches of the nation; and which, if we had been permitted to compare the happiest productions of the Eolian, the Dorian, and the Ionian lyre, would undoubtedly have added much to the charm of each. And the Theban poet himself is only known to us by works of one class out of a great number, each of which must have exhibited a different exertion of his powers, and have heightened their effect by variety and The tyrants likewise cherished the lyric contrast. But we have, perhaps, still more to Muse, though in a different manner, and from regret in an historical point of view; for what different motives. We are not, indeed, prewe have lost in the Greek lyrical poetry is no-pared to adopt the opinion of a modern author,* who thinks that they strove to wean their sub

In the Dorian states poetry and music were generally looked upon principally, if not exclusively, as instruments of education, and hence the watchfulness with which their character was regulated by the magistrate or the law. The themes of the poets were chiefly religious, martial, and political: in Crete and at Sparta, the spirit of the laws and the maxims of the Constitution were delivered in verse. Thus Lycurgus, though by an anachronism, was said to have employed the services of the Cretan poet Thaletas; and Tyrtæus and Terpander really seconded the views of the legislator, by describing and commending his institutions. Though the Spartans themselves, perhaps, disdained the labour of poetical composition, they were keenly sensible of the charms both of music and poetry, and warmly encouraged such foreign poets as were willing to adapt their strains to Spartan principles. Archilochus was excluded because he did not fulfil this condition; but Alcman, though of Lydian origin, earned a rank next to that of a Spartan citizen by his genius, which may still be discerned in the scanty fragments of his works. Here, as elsewhere, emulation was kindled by solemn contests, which took place at certain festivals, for the display of poetical and musical talents.

* As Asius of Samos, Eumelus of Corinth, Cinatho the jects from the heroic poetry, because it celeLaconian, Chersias of Orchomenus.

+ Proclus, p. 378, Gaisf.

VOL. I.DD

* Wachsmuth, iii., 397.

brated the old legitimate monarchy. Without enabled better to understand the nature of the any such grounds of policy, they were the natu- influence which she exerted over her female ral patrons of the lyrical poets, who cheered contemporaries, and might have obtained an intheir banquets, applauded their success, and ex- sight into a side of Greek society-the intertolled their magnificence. We have already course of intelligent and accomplished women observed in a preceding chapter that the Olym--which, from its obscurity, has been very little pic and other games afforded constant themes observed. The list of Greek poetesses,* who, for poetical panegyrics, which delicately inter- as might have been expected, cultivated scarcewove the praises of the victor with those of his ly any but the lyrical vein, was by no means ancestors, his country, its gods, and heroes. scanty, and included several very celebrated This was only one of the numerous occasions names, which, unhappily, are to us nothing more. for the exertion of poetical powers supplied by During the same period a considerable body of the enterprising and liberal spirit of these fortu- didactic poetry, under various forms, of fable, nate usurpers, who took the lead in the favour- proverb, pithy sentences, or longer moral lesite pursuits of their age. But all the main sons, indicated the growing tendency of the epochs and leading situations in the life of the age to habits of observation and abstraction, and great were deemed to need the aid of song to marked the connexion between its poetical and enliven and adorn them. The war-march, the philosophical spirit. religious and convivial procession,* the nuptial ceremony, the feast, and the funeral, would have appeared spiritless and unmeaning without this accompaniment.

tradition of later times as to a point which must have been always obscure, Pherecydes, a native of the Isle of Scyros, who flourished about the middle of the sixth century B.C., was the first prose writer:† his work seems to have been partly mythical, partly philosophical. Cadmus of Miletus is said first to have applied prose to an historical subject.

The early Greek poetry was designed, as we have already observed, for exhibition, more or less public, and it was late before any one appears to have thought of writing, without any This, however, was only one side of the spa- view to recitation, for the satisfaction of indicions and richly varied lyrical field. On this side vidual readers. This could only be the case its limit, by which it bordered on the epic, may when instruction, not pleasure, was the immedibe said to have been occupied by the great choral ate end proposed; and hence the rise of a prose compositions, which imbodied many high sub- literature among the Greeks coincides with that jects of heroic song in a new shape; were early of historical inquiry and philosophical speculacarried to perfection by the art of Arion and Ste- tion. When the object of the authors was no sichorus; and, uniting the attractions of music longer to work on the feelings and the imaginaand action with those of a lofty poetry, formed tion, but simply to convey knowledge or reathe favourite entertainment of the Dorian cities. sonings, they naturally adopted the style of This appears to have been the germ out of familiar discourse, which was gradually enwhich, by the introduction of a new element-nobled and refined, till in the art of composition the recitation of a performer, who assumed a it equalled the most elaborate productions of character, and, perhaps, from the first, shifted the national poetry. If we may rely on the his mask so as to exhibit the outlines of some simple story in a few scenes parted by the intervening song of the chorus-Thespis and his successors gradually unfolded the Attic tragedy. | On the other hand, there was a great mass of lyrical poetry, which only breathed the thoughts and feelings of individual minds. This kind, which may be called the sentimental lyric, was chiefly cultivated in the Ionian and Eolian When, however, we speak of a rising spirit states. In this the resentment of Archilochus, of historical inquiry in the period preceding the Hipponax, and Alcæus, kindled by private or Persian wars, we must be careful to limit our public quarrels, found vent in bitter sarcasm or notions on this head with due regard to the open invective. The delights of the senses character of the people and the circumstances awakened strains of almost delirious rapture in of the age. The first essays at historical comAnacreon and Ibycus, while the recollection position among the Greeks appear to have been of their fugitive nature melted Mimnermus into subordinate on the one hand to poetry, on the a sadness perhaps too gloomy to be pleasing. other to the study of nature. The works of the It is remarkable that the elegy which he adopt- early historians, so far as we can judge of them ed as the organ of his voluptuous melancholy, from the general accounts of Strabo and Dionysand which, in later times, was almost exclusive-ius of Halicarnassus, and from the fragments ly dedicated to similar purposes, had been invented by another Ionian poet, Callinus, as the vehicle of martial and patriotic enthusiasm. But the tenderness of Sappho-whose character has been rescued, by one of the happiest efforts of modern criticism, from the unmerited reproach under which it had laboured for so many centuriest-appears to have been no less pure than glowing. It is not merely her poetical celebrity, nor the exquisite beauty of the little that has been left to justify it, that excites our regret for the rest of her works. Had they been preserved, we should probably have been

or slight notices which have been preserved of their contents, seem to have been, in part, professedly mythological, and to have given, perhaps, in a more connected form, and with some traditional supplements, the substance of a large portion of the epic cycle. It is apparently to this class that Strabo alludest when he says that Cadmus, Pherecydes, and Hecatæus only got rid of the metrical restraints of their poetical predecessors, but in other respects

* See that of Tatian, c. Græcos, c. 33.

But Anaximander, who flourished a little earlier, is, per+ Plin., N. H., vii., 57. Apuleius, Flor., p. 130, ed. Bip. haps, better entitled to the honour; and if Polyzelus the Messenian, the father of the poet Ibycus, wrote his history + By Welcker, in his little work (published 1816), Sappho in prose (Suidas, "16ukos), his claims would be still stronge von einem herrschenden Vorurtheil befreyt.

* Κῶμος.

i., p. 34.

adhered to them so closely as even to retain and became the subject of several pleasing lethe character of their diction. But there was gends, among which the most celebrated is that another, and perhaps a larger class of works, of the golden tripod, which, having been drawn which might have been more properly referred up out of the sea, was, by command of the orato the head of geography or topography than to cle, to be given to the wisest, and, after it had that of history, in which the description of a been offered to each of the seven, and modestly country or a city served as a thread to connect | declined by them, was dedicated to the Delphic, its traditions. It must have been this class that or Didymæan god. The men who gained such Dionysius had in view* when he spoke of the renown were all actively engaged in the affairs historians who preceded Herodotus as confining of public life, as statesmen, magistrates, or lethemselves to local limits, and contenting them-gislators; and the sayings ascribed to them selves with simply recording the legends, wheth-breathe a purely practical wisdom, apparently er sacred or profane, of each region or district, drawn from their commerce with the world however incredible, in a style which, though rather than from any deep meditation on the concise and artless, was clear and not ungrace-nature of man. Their celebrity may, perhaps, ful. Though we must not construe this lan- be more properly considered as indicating the guage so strictly as to suppose that these his- novelty and rudeness than the prevalence of torians never interposed their own judgment on philosophical reflection. the matters which they related, it is certain It can excite no surprise that, in a period that the faculty of historical criticism, which, such as we are now reviewing, when thought indeed, was never very generally awakened and inquiry were stimulated in so many new among the Greeks, and never attained any high directions, some active minds should have been degree of vigour, was long almost entirely dor- attracted by the secrets of nature, and should mant. In the selection and arrangement of have been led to grapple with some of the great their materials, they were probably governed, questions which the contemplation of the visiin most cases, by no higher principle than the ble universe suggests. There can, therefore, desire of gratifying patriotic vanity, or the popu-be no need of attempting to trace the impulse lar taste for the marvellous. But whenever by which the Greeks were now carried towards they aspired to the more difficult and glorious such researches to a foreign origin. But it is task of unravelling any of those mythical webs an opinion which has found many advocates, which must often have perplexed them, they that they were indebted to their widening incould scarcely fail to aggravate the real confu-tercourse with other nations, particularly with sion by a false show of an artificial harmony and order. It is doubtful how far they commonly descended into the later political vicissitudes of the countries which they described. But before the Persian wars the Greeks did not suspect the importance of their own history, and it was not till long after that either its highest interest or its practical uses began to be distinctly understood.

Egypt, Phoenicia, and the interior of Asia, for several of the views or doctrines which were fundamental or prominent parts of their early philosophical systems. The result, however, of the maturest investigation seems to show that there is no sufficient ground even for this conjecture.* On the other hand, it is clear that the first philosophers were not wholly independent of the earlier intellectual efforts of Philosophy may, perhaps, be said to have their own countrymen, and that, perhaps unbegun to dawn among the Greeks in the ear-consciously, they derived the form, if not, in liest period to which their history or their legends go back; for not only do the subjects on which the men commonly distinguished as the first Greek philosophers, speculated, appear to have been, in a great measure, the same with those which employed the meditations of the ancient sages, but the remains which have been preserved to us among the works of Hesiod-if we may venture to view them in this light-of those early essays in thinking, discover traces, though under a poetical or mythical form, of a system, or, at least, of a connected investigation of causes and effects. Still, the sixth century B.C. has justly been considered as the period in which Greek philosophy took its rise, because then, for the first time, it began to be separated from poetry and religion, with which it had been before blended: it was then first cultivated by men who were not bards, or priests, or seers: it was exhibited in a natural form, without any artificial ornament or disguise, and it continued thenceforward to unfold itself in a steady and uninterrupted progress. The character of this age, in its relation to philosophy, is marked by the fame of the Seven Sages, who were variously enumerated,+

* De Thuc., Jud., v.

+ According to Dicæarchus (Diog. La., i., 41), there were only four names which were universally admitted:

part at least, the substance of their speculations, from the old theogonies or cosmogonies. We do not mean to enter into the discussion of subjects which properly belong to the history of philosophy, and must therefore confine ourselves to a few general observations on the character, tendency, and influence of the philosophical schools which preceded that of Athens. The eldest of these schools-called the Ionian, because, with one or two exceptions,† the phiThales, Bias, Pittacus, Solon. Hermippus reckoned up thirteen more, from which the remainder of the Seven were selected by various authors. Among them may be noticed the Spartan Aristodemus, to whom Diogenes refers the lines of Alcæus, which Niebuhr (vol. i., not. 1007) believed to have related to the ancient Heracleid. It seems, indeed, evident that the poet is not speaking of a contem

porary.

*We allude to Ritter (Geschichte der Philosophie), who (i., p. 159-173) has weighed all the arguments which have been alleged in behalf of this opinion with an even hand. t Diogenes of Apollonia, in Crete, and Archelaus, of whom it is uncertain whether he was a Milesian or an Athenian. This, indeed, would make no difference, and improper, if, according to a strange fancy broached by the epithet commonly given to the school itself would be Kreuser in his work on the Rhapsodists, p. 105, Miletus is not to be regarded as an Ionian city, because there was a legend that, about the time of Minos, it received a colony, perhaps of Dorians, from Crete. Admitting the fact, we might prove, by parity of reasoning, that there was no really Dorian state in Peloponnesus, where the early inhabitants all belonged to different races. With like acuteness (if he does not contradict himself in the same page), Kreu