Orestes, like Hercules Furens, deals with madness and crime; but, whereas in the latter Euripides treats his subject with Aeschylean mysticism, in this play he attempts a pathological study of criminality. For subtlety of psychological insight this play is comparable to Hamlet, but it is far more dramatic than Shakespeare's play. In fact, the first impression made upon the reader is that it is ‘good stage’, an opinion shared by the actors of the fourth century. Yet it has not infrequently been condemned by modern critics; and some, instead of understanding it, have written almost as though it had no point at all. The main difficulty is the contradictory statements made about Orestes' guilt. In one place Orestes will openly blame Apollo (e.g. 11. 28–31 or 11. 591–6); in another he admits to being tortured by a guilty conscience (11.395–6). This is a division in Orestes' mind, which is the victim of more than one contradiction; it is not inconsistency on the author's part. Further, Euripides is describing a process of demoralization, not a state; and therefore what is true of the characters in one part of the play is not necessarily true at another. As the play is dynamic, interpretation too must be progressive and take the form of a running commentary.

In line 1171 of Aeschylus' Agamemnon the MSS. read μή The remainder of the sentence, after μή, is much disputed, but I am not concerned with finding the true reading of it. The whole sentence runs, in the MSS., as follows: ἄκος δ' οὐδὲν ἐπήρκεσαντὸ μὴ πόλιν μὲν ὥσπερ ον ἔχει παθεν: which appears in Thomson's Oresteia as:… ἐπήρκεσεν τὸ μὴ oὐk ἔχειν πόλιν μὲν ὥσπερ ον ἔχει. It is the note on this passage in Thomson to which I wish to draw attention. It is from Headlam, and says, in justification of reading μὴ οὐκ, that in such phrases the scribes, finding μὴ οὐ, constantly omitted οὐ as περιττόν. It adds that οὐ should always be restored, at any rate where there is any trace of it.

It is no longer the fashion to imagine Herodotos a liar when he tells marvellous stories, for some of his most extraordinary statements have long since been shown to contain at least a substantial measure of truth. It is perhaps not sufficiently realized, however, that on occasion he misleads his readers and himself by too much critical unbelief in his materials and consequent application of the crude methods of mythological investigation then current. In other words, he often rationalizes in the only way then possible, superficially altering the story so as to rid himself of the incredible details, or at all events, as I think, attributing to the actors motives which a somewhat drily rational mind could understand and approve or condemn. It is of course well known that at least the former method was a commonplace of the sophists, whose influence on Herodotos is manifest and widespread; it has been said, indeed, that it is much older than they and characteristically Ionic. L. Radermacher finds traces of it in the Odyssey itself and adds that, although we can sometimes catch the rationalizer (or Fälscher, as he impolitely calls him) at work, we cannot be sure of always doing so and ‘müssen annehmen, dass der Glaube an die Geschichtlichkeit ihrer Sage manche griechischen Autoren früh verführt hat, sie geschichtlicher zu erzählen als eigentlich erlaubt war’. This is a true and useful statement. Modern criticism has long learned to set aside ancient allegorizations of myths, about which I need say nothing, for the subject has been repeatedly and well handled by my colleague, Dr. J. Tate; it has often, however, confused ancient interpretation of myth with ancient criticism of saga. Euhemerism indeed is usually recognized for what it is, although even this is not always so; but uixere inepti ante Euhemerum multi, and their efforts are by no means always distinguished either from allegorizing or from real sagas. For an example of the former confusion I may refer to Stallbaum's note on Plato, Phaedrus, 29 C-D, where the reader is referred to the account given by Lobeck of the rise and growth of allegorization. But Plato says nothing at all of allegories in this passage. He quotes, with ironical admiration of its ‘wisdom’, a version of the story of Boreas and Oreithyia according to which she. was knocked off the Areiopagos, or some other place, by a strong north wind, and so was killed and consequently said to have been carried away by Boreas. He adds that it would be a laborious and dismal business to go through all the tales of wonder in that way, rationalizing the Hippocentaurs, Gorgons, Chimaira, Pegasos, and the rest out of existence; a wise saying which was uttered in vain for Palaiphatos and his kind. However, most moderns know a myth from a saga and an allegory from a crude rationalization which accepts the story as true except for the incredibilities and is quite ready to believe, for instance, in Romulus if we will but postulate that he was not snatched up to heaven but murdered and his body hidden. There is a much more subtle snare, consisting of a story which, although rationalized, is well told, and Herodotos in this respect can be a notable offender, for he never tells a story ill.

In a recent number Mr. O. J. Todd has discussed the clumsy scansion of a line in a Delphic oracle, and has called fresh attention to the problem of the Pythia's prophesyings in verse. The chief difficulty consists in the differences between the indications on this subject as given by our various sources. The conventional phrases in most authors from Pindar and Herodotus until late periods describe the responses as uttered by the Pythia herself. This picture seems to imply that the Pythia originated the verse form of the oracle. But this view would take no account of the existence of the official known as the προφήτης whose business was evidently to deliver the response to the inquirer.

1. HEFT. O. Hoffmann argues that Weichbild (wikbilede) originally denoted a wooden or stone sign set up in a wik (village where traders live, market-place) to denote the possession of the ius mercatum constituendi. Hence it came to denote the privilege itself and finally the community possessing this right. H. Hendriksen connects cura with Sk. śeṣaḥ ‘remainder’, the basic meaning being ‘leaving over, saving up’, hence ‘watch, care’. The root *keis *kois he also finds in κίστη. *keis is an extended form of *kei and = ‘leave lying’. lētum is connected with latere, a semantic parallel being Mid. Ir. cel ‘death’, Lat. celare. Lith. kišù, kìšti further is derived from *keis, although the exceptional treatment of the palatal is difficult to account for. Sk. ślakṣṇáḥ ‘slippery, soft, fine, delicate’ is derived from *slēg seen in λήγω, λαγαρός. E. Lewy writes on (1) a-priori construction of speech types, (2) primitive I-E. inflection, (3) Sakian miscellany. He (4) connects idus via Etruscan with the Sumerian itu ‘month’, (5) discusses the sound -tsch- in Mod. Germ., and (6) connects Gabel with geben.

The Editors wish to apologize for an error on p. 4 of the General Index of vols, i–xxxii, where the article on ‘The Portents in Horace’ is attributed to Miss G. Hirst. The author is Miss M. E. Hirst.