assuredly, have been originally meant; as water most naturally produces water-the great primary water, a smaller and local water. Inachus having married a daughter of Oceanus, begat Phoroneus, the first man, according to the Argive tradition, and therefore, of course, no historical personage. This Phoroneus begat Apis, whose name is formed from 'Aría, the ancient designation of the Peloponnesus, and Niobe, a mysterious mythological being, whose significance we may, for the present, leave unexamined, without seriously interrupting the connexion. The latter had, by the great god Zeus, the father of gods and men, a son, Argos, the district, and also Pelasgus, the race, according to Acusilaus, the Argive, by whom the tradition was handed down, and from whom the greater part of the story in Apollodorus was derived;1 while he, in his turn, drew upon the ancient poem Phoronis.2 The simple consideration of similar legends, those of Arcadia, for instance, would be similarly instructive. But as we do not yet mean to draw any conclusion with the view to a general explanation of mythi, it is sufficient that we have here pointed out the occasional personification of localities, &c. We now come to the third point, viz., that the events of which mythi speak, all relate, by the way they are connected and interwoven, to a time anterior to the historical period, and divided from it by a tolerably distinct boundary. This, again, is perfectly true, if we consider mythi to be nothing more than what they profess to be. In that view they all refer to a period which ter1 Apollod., ii. 1. 1.

See particularly Clem. Alex., Strom. i. p. 321, A.

minated in the series of epic poems called Kúkλos STIKOS, with Odysseus' last adventures, or thereabouts, and was somewhat further, but not materially, extended by other poets. We find, however, that this definition also can only apply to the form of the mythus; in other words, that what is really stated in the mythus lies on this side of the boundary, is, in fact, a later occurrence. This can be pointed out in a great number of mythi which indubitably refer to historical events. I shall, however, confine myself to one.1 The Greek city of Cyrene, in Libya, was founded about the 37th Olympiad. The reigning family traced their descent from the Minyans, whose chief sway was at Iolcus, a city of southern Thessaly. The establishment of the colony was principally the work of the Oracle of Apollo at Pytho. This is represented in a mythus as follows: The heroic virgin Cyrene, who dwelt in Thessaly, was beloved of Apollo, and carried away by him to Libya. But it is not represented as if it had taken place in the 37th Olympiad. In order that it might be at all formed into a mythus, it is translated back to the early heroic age, and Cyrene brought into affinity with the ancient heroes of the Thessalian race, to whom the royal family believed themselves related.

We shall have an opportunity hereafter, for example when we come to speak of the mythic expression, of following up these remarks. Here they are merely designed to prove what they do prove that the above definition of the mythus in

'I have already pointed out this case in my Orchomenos, p. 346. 2 See particularly Pindar, Pyth. 9.

many cases applies solely to the form, the external appearance. But how can we arrive at an idea of its real nature and import? Such an idea cannot be attained a priori, as we have it only from experience; neither is it immediately and of itself intelligible, being utterly unknown as a product of our times. It is a purely historical idea; an idea, moreover, by which a creation of very remote ages is to be conceived. It cannot possibly be arrived at otherwise than historically. But how is its historical perception possible, the mythus itself being the only source of the idea of the mythus, and appearing, too, in a form different from its contents? In the statement of an historical fact the form and the contents correspond; an acquaintance with the language forms the bridge which leads from the one to the other. But here to us they lie further apart; and the path must first be sought, is itself a problem. In other words, mythi must be interpreted, must be explained, ere we can attain a knowledge of their contents. This must be done in a thousand individual instances ere we shall be able to seize the essence of the mythus as a generic idea. And then the question still remains, whether we can express the knowledge thus attained by an idea such as passes current among us, or by a simple combination of such ideas; whether we do not find something compounded according to our notions of multifarious, widely-separated, and heterogeneous materials, the union of which is based on a mode of thinking entirely different from ours.

Were the Greek mythology, that definite whole of narrations, handed down to us alone and by itself,

and did we possess no other access to a knowledge of Grecian antiquity, if this can be at all imagined, a systematic and philosophical explanation of mythology would be quite impossible; nay, it could not even be shown with certainty that it ought to be understood in any other than the usual sense of the words, that it, in fact, required any explanation at all. And supposing some one should point out the necessity of this by a comparison with the mythologies of other nations, assuming these to have been previously known, the interpretation could be, after all, merely hypothetical, and the merit of any one hypothesis with regard to another would be determined by its superior or inferior capability of affording a general elucidation. Many have actually proceeded in this manner, and have devised very ingenious systems, by which the true meaning of all mythic narrations should be ascertained. But fortunately the case stands otherwise; and we still possess, from independent sources, a knowledge of Grecian antiquity which, in reference to mythology, suffices to furnish starting-points for its true explanation. We know the language, and find from it that many mythological names have a meaning, and that the activity of those to whom they are applied corresponds with them; a circumstance which cannot be regarded as accidental and void of significance. We know, too, the land of the Greeks, with its rivers, its mountains, and its ruins; and by means of this knowledge we can often ascertain to what particular spot of the Grecian soil a mythus refers, and, it may even the purport of its language regarding it. We know, moreover, the authentic history of Greece,

be,

its religion, and its civil institutions, and observe that mythology frequently speaks of their origin and constitution. Nay, the mythic materials, although peculiar in their character, are not so distinctly separated from the other memorials of antiquity, but that they, as it were, pass into each other at the boundary, and stand in a relation of constant transition. Documents purely historical also frequently speak of the same circumstances which are mentioned in mythi; and ideas expressed by mythology, are, in like manner, reproduced by the ancient philosophers; nay, sometimes, too, clothed by them in mythic drapery. By means of this connexion between mythology and the other sources whence our knowledge of antiquity is obtained, we gain numberless points where we can plainly perceive what it speaks of, and the meaning of its communications. We thus gradually learn to understand its language and manner of expression, and rise by degrees to a systematic and philosophical knowledge of the subject.

CHAPTER II.

Steps towards the Internal Idea of the Mythus.

It is only by such a gradually progressive method as we have described, that a perfect idea of the nature of the mythus can be attained. We may here, however, though without entering into minute and exhaustive investigations, determine some points regard