can never suffer such a mischance as that. But as Aristotle says, in his book on Drunkenness, they who have drunk beer, which they call πῖνος, fall on their backs. For he says, "But there is a peculiarity in the effects of the drink made from barley, which they call πῖνος, for they who get drunk on other intoxicating liquors fall on all parts of their body; they fall on the left side, on the right side, on their faces, and on their backs. But it is only those who get drunk on beer who fall on their backs, and lie with their faces upwards." But the wine which is made of barley is by some called βρύτος, as Sophocles says, in his Triptolemus— And not to drink the earthy beer (βρύτον). And Archilochus says— And she did vomit wine as any Thracian Might vomit beer (βρύτον), and played the wanton stooping. And Æschylus, also, mentions this drink, in his Lycurgus— And after this he drank his beer (βρύτον), and much And loudly bragg'd in that most valiant house. But Hellanicus, in his Origins, says that beer is made also out of roots, and he writes thus:—"But they drink beer (βρύτον) made of roots, as the Thracians drink it made of barley." And Hecatæus, in the second book of his Description of the World, speaking of the Egyptians, and saying that they are great bread-eaters, adds, "They bruise barley so as to make a drink of it." And, in his Voyage round Europe, he says that "the Pæonians drink beer made of barley, and a liquor called παραβίη, made of millet and conyza. And they anoint themselves," adds he, "with oil made of milk." And this is enough to say on these topics. 68. But in our time dear to the thyrsus-bearers Is rosy wine, and greatest of all gods Is Bacchus. As Ion the Chian says, in his Elegies— For this is pretext fit for many a song; The great assemblies of th' united Greeks, The feasts of kings, do from this gift proceed, Since first the vine, with hoary bunches laden, Push'd from beneath the ground its fertile shoots, Clasping the poplar in its firm embrace, And from its buds burst forth a numerous race, [Sidenote: ΓΡΙΦΟΙ.] Crashing, as one upon the other press'd; But when the noise has ceased they yield their juice, Divinest nectar, which to mortal men Is ever the sole remedy for care, And common cause of joy and cheerfulness. Parent of feasts, and laughter, and the dance, Wine shows the disposition of the good, And strengthens all their noble qualities. Hail! then, O Bacchus, president of feasts, Dear to all men who love the wreathed flowers; Give us, kind God, an age of happiness, To drink, and play, and cherish just designs. But Amphis, in his Philadelphi, praising the life of those who are fond of drinking, says:—