When Rome had become the centre of civilization, she possessed no native works adequate to the wants of the age. Greek literature and philosophy were introduced in systems greatly epitomized, to master which was deemed an accomplishment not to be hoped for by the common mind. Very few acquired that more adequate appreciation which Cato and Scipio, Atticus and Cicero possessed. In the early days of the Republic there were many illustrious examples of practical Stoicism; but the system of philosophy known by that name, though best adapted to the mental structure of that people, attained its highest development not until a late period under the empire. After the literary stores of Greece had been introduced, each system had its run, and the hardy discipline of the Porch was particularly admired. Antisthenes, the founder of this Cynical sect, was born at Athens, B.C. 420, of a Thracian mother. Hereditary character fitted the appropriate agent at the outset to mold the destinies of western hordes. From all accounts, the external conduct of Antisthenes was excessively absurd and extravagant; but in intellect he was respectable, and as a man, was in many respects superior to the generality of his followers. Unlike them, he never decried science and literature, but was himself an author; and he is said to have left behind him ten volumes of his works, though they have all now perished. According to Cicero, he maintained the unity of the supreme Being in opposition to popular polytheism, and that his writings were valuable, rather as monuments of his sagacity than of his erudition. Diogenes, born B.C. 414, was extremely licentious in early life, but at a later period, as is not uncommon, rushed to the opposite extreme of morose asceticism and fanatical mortification. All writers represent his temperament as being fervid and enthusiastic, and his humor as coarse as it was caustic. The fragmentary sayings of his which have been preserved exhibit a homely fierceness, in which it is difficult to say whether the character of sagacity or scurrility most predominates. Calling out once, "Men, come hither," and numbers flocking about him, he beat them all away with a stick, saying, "I called for men, and not varlets." Seeing some women hanged upon an olive tree, "I wish," remarked he, "that all trees bore the same fruit!" Such indiscriminate scoffing tended to repress the nobler impulses of our better nature, and to chill that enthusiasm without which nothing great or good was ever accomplished. It was an intrinsically mean spirit, clearly seen and well rebuked on the occasion referred to in the following anecdote: When Diogenes trod upon Plato's robe, and exclaimed, "I trample under foot the pride of Plato," the sage replied, "True, but it is with the greater pride of Diogenes."