FGrH 328 F 35a (Phot., Suid. S.V. ὀργεῶνες): … περὶ τὶν ὀργεώνων γέγραφεν καὶ Φιλόχορος̇ ‘τοὺς δὲ φράτορας ἐπάναγκες δέχεσθαι καὶ τοὺς ὀργεῶνας καὶ τοὺς όμογάλακτας, οὓς γεννήτας καλοῦμεν.’

F 35b (Harp., Suid. S.v. γεννῆται, etc.): … Φιλόχορος δ̓ ἐν τῇ δ̄ ̓Ατθίδος φησὶ πρότερον ὁμογάλακτας ὀνομάζεσθαι οὓς νῦν γεννήτας καλοῦσιν.

Modern interpretations of this fragment differ widely, but they agree in assuming that the two classes orgeones and gennetai between them made up the whole membership of the phratry, gennetai being the aristocratic minority, orgeones the great mass of commoners; and that the purpose of the clause here quoted was to safeguard the admission of orgeones to the phratry. Drakon's law of homicide (IG i2 115 = Tod 87, 18–19) takes it for granted that a murdered man, if he has no near relatives, will at least have phrateres, and that social distinctions can be made among them. Already by his time, then, all Athenians belonged to phratries, nobles and commoners alike, and if commoners were ever outside the phratries their first admission belongs to a period before written law. Our fragment has thus had to be taken as referring to the repulse of a later attempt to exclude the orgeones, and it has generally been dated to the time either of Solon or of Kleisthenes.

The importance of the Harpalus affair in Athenian history has always been recognised, and many scholars have laboured to clarify its obscure details and to evaluate its consequences. What has, on the whole, not been attempted has been to see it against the background of Alexander's Court—yet that alone can enable us to make historical sense of it. The reason for this apparent neglect is to be found in the nature of our sources: as is well known, Alexander, within a generation of his death, became a legendary figure—a superman or demon, a subject for nostalgic worship or philosophic animadversion. The injection of corrective doses of Court historiography, though in itself an improvement, yet did a great deal of harm with its illusion of restraint and objectivity, which captured a large part of subsequent scholarship from Arrian to Tarn. As a result, between legend and apologia, both (for us) fragmentary and adulterated, and in the absence of really important documentary evidence, we cannot at all easily write an account of Alexander's reign that will satisfy the reader accustomed to genuine political history and unimpressed by eulogy and denunciation. Yet there is more to be done than might at first sight appear: detailed study of individual incidents, approached through the relations and movements of men and (as far as this can be recovered) the chronological sequence of events, will often establish a pattern into which scattered items in the sources can then be fitted. Naturally, not all these results will be equally secure; but probability is often cumulative, and a pattern, once established, will give value to pieces that fit into it and that might otherwise have been ignored or rejected. This concrete approach, which has made other periods of history intelligible to us, may then provide some criteria that will enable the traditional argument about the sources and their relations to aid rather than retard the progress of scholarship. Above all, it may tear away the veil of unreality that still envelops the history of Alexander's reign, so that the modern student can see it in terms of human history, as he can, for instance, see the reigns of Augustus or of Napoleon.

There is a bird perched on the neck of a bull on a Late Bronze Age krater from Enkomi in the British Museum (plate I 1). It has long legs and a long neck, and it is much larger than any of the crow tribe, so often seen on cattle. Its long pointed bill is fixed on a point in the bull's neck probably removing a tick or something of the sort. The operation is painful and the bull tosses his head. On the other side of the vase the bird has lost his footing but still keeps the grip of his bill on the neck of the bull (plate I 2). That daggerlike bill is longer than the one on the other side of the vase. We must therefore suppose that the bill in the earlier scene has been inserted into the bull's neck to a considerable depth. No wonder the bull is plunging about to dislodge the operator.

A bird with long neck, long legs, and long beak can only be a marsh bird, and as it is hunting for insects on the neck of a bull, it can only be a Cattle Egret (plate I 4.), though its body bears some resemblance to the bodies of birds which are probably meant for geese or swans; its beak is more formidable. Presumably this insect-hunting bird is not a deity revealing him or herself; but perhaps Cypriots are more secular than Mycenaeans.

South-western Caria terminates in an unequal pair of prongs. The longer one, commencing at the narrow isthmus of Bencik, is the Datça (Stadia) Peninsula, which in ancient times constituted the territory of Cnidus. The shorter one (or at least its tip), which ends at the Loryma headland, is Daraçya, the Byzantine Tracheia. Pachymeres in the thirteenth century spoke of the two peninsulas together under the compound name Σταδιοτραχία). The name Tracheia may in fact be ancient; for when Strabo speaks of Λώρυμα, παραλία τραχεῖα (xiv 652) it is possible that the last word should be regarded as a proper name. The Daraçya (or Loryma) Peninsula in general corresponds to the Carian Χερσόνησος mentioned in ancient literary sources and inscriptions. But the latter was probably more extensive. Herodotus (i 174) speaks of the Bybassian Chersonese, to which the Cnidian Peninsula is attached at the five-stade isthmus (Bencik). The Carian Chersonese, which figures as a syntely in the Athenian tribute lists, evidently included the Bybassians (see below, p. 62); so it may be assumed that Herodotus' Bybassian Chersonese is identical with the Carian Chersonese, and that this Chersonese extended as far north as the modern Rena Bay at the head of the Gulf of Syme, where the bay which Mela (i 84) calls sinus Bubaesius is almost certainly to be located.

Since its publication in 1876, the scene on the shoulder of this vase has been interpreted as showing the activities of a vase-painters' workshop. The original drawing had been reproduced several times, but its inaccuracies were so numerous that the photographs were long overdue in spite of Beazley's useful notes on it in Potter and Painter.

The scene shows Athena and two Nikai crowning the artists for their skill. In the centre, Athena (plate VII 1), spear in hand, approaches with a wreath to crown the youth who is engaged in decorating a huge kantharos; before him waits a similar vessel with an oinochoe standing inside it. To the left, a boy who is decorating a volute-krater looks round in surprise at the Nike as she places a wreath about his head (plate VI 2). To the right of Athena another boy decorates a calyx-krater and does not notice the Nike who is about to crown him also. To the extreme right, a young girl on a dais begins the decoration of another volute-krater (plate VII 2).

This note is an attempt to show that the scene does not depict vase-painters at work, but rather the decorators of metal vessels.

A great advance in this subject was made by A. J. V. Fine, who studied the extant ὅροι and some of the literary evidence, but the general tendency in recent writing about Solon has been to dwell on the views of other scholars rather than to assess the ancient evidence. In seeking to redress the balance in this paper, I acknowledge my debt to the authors of the books and articles which I have used and cited. Our chief task is to discover the conditions under which various forms of property and especially landed property were held in seventh-century Athens; for this is essential, if we are to shed any light on Draco's laws of debt and Solon's Seisachtheia.

Many explanations of Solon's work have been based on the axioms that land in Attica had passed into the possession of individuals long before the time of Solon and was therefore available in his time for mortgage, seizure and sale. This axiom was expressed thus by Swoboda: ‘one thing is quite certain, that private ownership is of high antiquity among the Greeks and the persistence of clan- or family-ownership till Solon's day appears absolutely excluded’; and Glotz drew the logical deduction that during the seventh century land in Attica was changing hands more and more from day to day. The purpose of this paper is to show that this axiom is incorrect in respect of one kind of land and that a new explanation may be advanced. It is divided into five parts: the organisation of society in early Attica, the tenure of property, the Seisachtheia, fourth-century explanations of Solon's reform, and a summary of conclusions.

In their accounts of the return of Orestes, the three great tragedians show respect for the ancient tradition and the greatness of it by their several interpretations. Each preserves the general tenor of the legend. Electra awaits the return of her brother to avenge her father's death. The secrecy of his return delays recognition, but once Orestes is made known to his sister the punishment of Clytemnestra and Aegisthus becomes inevitable. Of the differences in action and character in each play, the most significant is the means whereby the recognition of Orestes takes place. This affects not only the mood of each tragedy, but its construction.

The recognition scene placed early in the Choephori (224) presents an almost rustic simplicity (lines 228, 231, 232). This matches the lament and slow movement of the invocation by Orestes, Electra and the chorus that follow. The audience are spectators of a simple action from which the drama as simply proceeds. Such simplicity rightly receives an archaic treatment derived from a great religious tradition. The Euripidean version, psychologically more complicated, shows the interplay of personal relationships largely dependent upon memory. This complexity, expressed in the intricate nature of prologue, delays the recognition of Orestes by Electra. Yet in Euripides (Electra 577) the scene still occurs comparatively early—perhaps in deference to tradition, or perhaps that the movement of vengeance can be more fully displayed. In Sophocles (Electra 1224), however, the recognition scene is placed towards the end of the play.

This paper forms a brief and synoptic study of the use made by Greek thinkers of explanations and causes that lie outside immediate sense-perception; and of the extent to which these unperceived causes outstripped not merely sense but also common-sense, so as to become, simply judged in themselves, unexpected, improbable, or paradoxical. I propose first to examine the main Presocratic philosophers and their predecessors, to discover how far their theories exceeded the range of sense-perception on the one hand and common-sense on the other; then to assess more briefly the reaction of the Sophists, Socrates and Plato, with some consideration of Aristotle and his successors and special attention to the concept of teleology. The aim of this survey, from which much will inevitably be omitted, is to direct from a fresh angle a slender ray of light on the nature of Greek speculative thought—on the character of its dogmatism and the character of its assumed clarity.

If philosophy is the search for causes, then it must soon concern itself with the unseen, with what lies beyond perception. Proximate causes of particular sensed events may be found in other sensed events; but the philosopher's attempt to explain man's experience as a whole requires the inference of causes and relationships outside the immediate range of direct physical experience.

With the simultaneous recognition by Jameson and Westlake of the importance o. Plutarch, Nikias 15.2 in the tangled problems of election to the strategia, the discussion has entered a new phase, and the problems are clarified by Professor Dover's article. It is now clear that the formulae which have been thought to indicate ‘chairmanship’ are not reliable guides, but there remains some force in Jameson's contention that double representation of tribes in the strategia arises rather from electing one general ἐξ ἁπάντων to provide a chairman than from any desire to ensure fairness to candidates in a tribe where the post was monopolised over a long period by one candidate. After Dover's article, cases of double representation are left as our sole material for looking at the problem, and my only aim here is to examine some other years where double representation seems possible. I include some negative results and start with one.

The remarkably well-preserved treaty with Chalcis has long formed a fixed point in Attic epigraphy, since it is confidently associated with Pericles' suppression of the Euboean revolt in 446 B.C. But is this dating and interpretation really certain? From the decree itself we learn that it was modelled on similar arrangements for Eretria, of which fragments in Ionic script survive. Now Hesychios records a decree, passed ἐπὶ Διφίλον, which regulated the seizure of hostages from the wealthiest Eretrian families. The simplest hypothesis is that both this decree and a parallel one for Chalcis preceded D 16 and 17. But this lands us in serious difficulties. If ἐπὶ Διφίλον gives the archon-date we must put the extant decrees in 442/441, which is inconveniently late for the orthodox view. The alternative is to separate Hesychios' decree from D 16 and 17, as Gomme suggested. There would then have been new trouble in Eretria three years after the settlement, which necessitated fresh recourse to hostages. Now if we once allow that Athens could take such drastic action in peacetime, what guarantee have we that the Chalcis Decree represents the settlement after armed revolt? It also might be an example of arbitrary Athenian intervention in the face of suspected disloyalty. In trying to save orthodoxy we have exposed the weakness of its basis. Another line of defence proves even more damaging. It is fair to suggest that ἐπὶ Διφίλον does not after all give the archon-date. Very few decrees before 421 are dated by the archon either in their prescript or internally. The normal dating is by the secretary of Council for a particular prytany.

Our knowledge of Greek Architecture depends almost entirely on its actual remains. Undoubtedly the Greeks themselves were much concerned with its more theoretical aspects, and in pursuit of this wrote a large number of treatises, descriptive and analytical, which are frequently referred to by our chief authority for ancient architectural theory, Vitruvius. Since, with one exception—and that only in part (Philo Mechanicus, named by Vitruvius vii praef. 14 as an author ‘de machinationibus’)—none of Vitruvius' Greek sources survives, we experience considerable difficulty in controlling the information he gives us about these aspects of Greek architecture, especially when we try to apply his various theories to the actual remains. First, for all we know, theories and techniques described with some prominence by Vitruvius may not have had a corresponding prominence in the Greek authorities, or actual practice. Secondly, a theory described by Vitruvius as apparently universal may actually have been very limited, either in scope or time. It is in fact true to say that many of Vitruvius' ideas of Greek architecture apply to the Hellenistic period only. Thus the passage on the spacing of columns (iii 3) must owe much to Hermogenes, two of whose temples are given as examples.

The Supplices was the first play of a trilogy. It was followed by the Aegyptii and the Danaides, and the satyr-play was the Amymone. Single plays that formed part of trilogies are at once tantalising and challenging, and it is natural that scholars should use their ingenuity in the attempt to recover at least the general trend of the lost plays. But their speculations often diverge widely. The most prudent course is doubtless to refrain from speculation altogether. Yet, in the case of the Danaid trilogy, one is haunted by a feeling that the necessary evidence is at our disposal, if only we could use it rightly. In what does the evidence consist?

There are the fragments attributable to the missing plays. With one important exception, these do not amount to much. But fr. 44 N from the Danaides gives us seven famous lines on the universal power of love in nature, and we know that they were spoken by Aphrodite herself. There is the mythographical tradition—Apollodorus and Hyginus; Pausanias; certain scholia. The constant feature—that the Danaids killed their bridegrooms—is known to us already from the Prometheus Vinctus. Apart from this, it is clear that both before and after Aeschylus there were different versions of the story in circulation. We must have independent reasons for saying that any particular late account depends upon him; and it is only Aeschylus himself who can give us these reasons. It is Aeschylus who provides the primary evidence.

The traditional route followed by the Army of Cyrus the Younger as shown in Map I of Vol. VI of the Cambridge Ancient History and in Bury's History of Greece take an almost straight line from the sea at Myriandros to the great bend in the R. Euphrates where it turns to the south-east. Thapsacus, where Cyrus crossed the river, is shown at the bend, approximately where the modern Meskeneh now stands, in the Cambridge Ancient History, while Bury places it farther east at or near the modern Raqqa. Both identify the R. Araxes with the modern Khabour.

As a result of a close examination of parts of Chapters iv and v of the Anabasis, wide reading of the works of ancient and modern travellers in those parts, coupled with some researches in the parasang and a knowledge of the terrain gained during some war-time journeys in that area, I find myself unable to accept these identifications, as they fit neither the length of marches itemised by Xenophon, nor the physical features of the terrain. Both entirely ignore the existence of a considerable river known today as the R. Belekh.