Whence most beautifully the Egyptian priest in Plato said, “O Solon, Solon, you Greeks are always children, not having in your souls a single ancient opinion received through tradition from antiquity. And not one of the Greeks is an old man;” meaning by old, I suppose, those who know what belongs to the more remote antiquity, that is, our literature; and by young, those who treat of what is more recent and made the subject of study by the Greeks,—things of yesterday and of recent date as if they were old and ancient. Wherefore he added, “and no study hoary with time;” for we, in a kind of barbarous way, deal in homely and rugged metaphor. Those, therefore, whose minds are rightly constituted approach the interpretation utterly destitute of artifice. And of the Greeks, he says that their opinions “differ but little from myths.” For neither puerile fables nor stories current among children are fit for listening to. And he called the myths themselves “children,” as if the progeny of those, wise in their own conceits among the Greeks, who had but little insight; meaning by the “hoary studies” the truth which was possessed by the barbarians, dating from the highest antiquity. To which expression he opposed the phrase “child fable,” censuring the mythical character of the attempts of the moderns, as, like children, having nothing of age in them, and affirming both in common—their fables and their speeches—to be puerile.