AN inquiry into the use of paradeigma in the Iliad must begin with Niobe. At 24. 602 Achilles introduces Niobe in order to encourage Priam to have some food. The dead body of the best of Priam's sons has now been placed on the wagon ready for its journey back to Troy. Achilles says (I paraphrase), ‘Now let us eat. For even Niobe ate food, and she had lost twelve children. Apollo and Artemis killed them all; they lay nine days in their blood and there was no one to bury them, because Zeus had turned the people into stone. On the tenth day the gods buried them. But she managed to eat some food, when she was tired of weeping. And now among the mountains, although turned into stone, she still broods over her sorrows. But come, let us also eat. You can weep for your son again later’ (24. 601–19).

The contention that the Homeric epics, and perhaps also the Hesiodic poems and the Homeric Hymns, are the products, directly or at a very short remove, of a tradition of orally improvised poetry is widely accepted as a basic premiss in Homeric criticism. The cogency of the argument depends on the frequency and characteristic use of formulae in the early hexameter poetry, and their rarity in the literature of Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman times, which is known or assumed to have been composed in the study. The reasoning appears to me valid, but in some respects overstated or ambiguously stated in recent publications, and the first fault arises out of the second.

The manuscript tradition of the Theogony is not as good as that of the Erga, a poem which has always been more popular. The earliest complete manuscripts of the Theogony date only from the end of the thirteenth century, while those upon which the recensio must chiefly be based are of the fourteenth and fifteenth. The number of extant manuscripts, however, especially of the fifteenth century, is not inconsiderable, and knowledge of them has hitherto been far from complete. What is known is known largely in consequence of the labours of Alois Rzach. Rzach collated many of the manuscripts, and tried, with some success, to establish the relationships between them. He published his conclusions in Wiener Studien xix (1897), 15–70, and used them as the basis for his great edition of 1902.

Tragic allusions to contemporary events are not, as a rule, taken on trust, but the Eumenides of Aeschylus provides three notable exceptions. The view that the Athenian-Argive alliance of 462 B.C. (Thuc. 1. 102. 4, Paus. 4. 24. 6–7) is reflected in Eum. 287–91, 667–73, anc^ 762–74 has won wide acceptance, although no systematic theory of the relation between the drama and the historical context has yet been advanced. If demonstration in detail has been wanting, the view seems to be supported by three general considerations. In the first place, the emphasis put on the dramatic declaration of friendship exceeds the requirements of the plot: the acquittal of Orestes rather than his gesture of gratitude to Athens is the natural climax of this part of the drama, 1–777, and yet the gesture has been considered important enough to be heralded twice before it is actually made in 762–74. Secondly, Orestes' declaration is not limited in duration but binding on his successors in perpetuity; it seems, therefore, to have been deliberately formulated in order to react upon historical fact. Thirdly, in instituting the Council of the Areopagus and dwelling upon the importance of its constitutional function (see especially 681–710), Aeschylus seems to have gone out of his way to pass judgement of some sort on the recent reforms of Ephialtes and Pericles; the theory that he has also appreciated their foreign policy on the tragic stage is thus relieved of some of the obvious practical objections and made inherently more plausible.

The parodos of the Frogs is one of the most controversial passages in Aristophanes. Was it intended to parody the Eleusinian Mystery procession—or some other ritual? A writer wishing to discuss any part of the parodos must first outline his position with regard to this basic problem. I shall therefore as simply and briefly as possible state my own view and the reasons for it before dealing with the specific question posed by the title of the article.

IN examining Herodotos' account of the Samian tyranny, historians have long been disturbed by two considerations. First, it seems strange that the period of settled tyranny should have begun no earlier than the rise of Polykrates and his two brothers c. 533 B.C., even though Samos was among the most advanced cities in Ionia. Yet it seems equally impossible to revise this accession date in an upward direction, at least by any significant margin. Furthermore, there had been at work in Samos from c. 600 or earlier many of the factors which elsewhere in Ionia did in fact lead to a comparatively stable period of tyranny at that date, for instance at Miletos and Ephesos. Secondly, though Herodotos knows of no tyrant before Polykrates, it has been observed that the policies ascribed to him as characteristic were very largely the continuation of policies initiated a generation or more previously.

Thucydides reports that in 414/13, after severe losses in Sicily, Nikias wrote to Athens, asking to be replaced in command and saying that it was necessary either to recall the expedition from the island or to send a new army as a reinforcement. The Athenians, however,

[When the Athenians had heard his letter,] instead of relieving him of his command, chose two members of the force in Sicily, Menandros and Euthydemos, to act as additional commanders until the selection and arrival of other colleagues, so that the position of sole commander would not cause Nikias suffering in his illness. They also voted to send another force, both military and naval, composed of Athenians on the muster-roll and of their allies. After the selection of Demosthenes, the son of Alkisthenes, and Eurymedon, the son of Thoukles, as Nikias' colleagues, they sent Eurymedon forthwith, around the winter solstice, to Sicily with ten ships and one hundred and twenty talents in silver …

The purpose of this paper is to inquire into the fate of Cleomenes' reforms after his defeat at Sellasia and to show that contrary to the prevailing opinion their main part was not abolished by the victors. It will be necessary to summarize briefly the reforms and to discuss their relation to the patrios politeia of Sparta before we examine their fate after Cleomenes' defeat.

One of the clearest phonological developments of the language of Attic inscriptions of the Hellenistic period down to the end of the second century B.C. is the change . I have studied this phenomenon with particular reference to the period 323–146 B.C., taking into account also the trends before 323 (i.e. between 403 and 323) and after 146 B.C. down to the end of the pre- Christian era. The object of this article is to draw attention to the fact that in only one instance, the relative pronoun, is there not a marked progressive increase in the frequency of at the expense of .

There is a touch of foolhardiness in the attempts to establish a precise identification for the great majority of birds mentioned by the authors of classical antiquity. Only a small minority of the ancient references and descriptions contains features which are indisputably diagnostic, while a probably not much bigger minority of the Mediterranean avifauna possesses characteristics of appearance, behaviour, or voice that would have enabled an ordinary Greek or Roman immediately to distinguish a member of one species from absolutely all others, using the sole aids of his eyes, ears, and the largely inaccurate medley of lore handed down from one generation to the next. Thus any modern attempt to pin down the identity of this or that bird in an ancient author is fraught with many dangers and difficulties which must be recognized at the outset

The received translation and interpretation of many of the technical terms current in the textile industry of the Roman Empire are inaccurate, because lexicographers have either fought shy of being precise, or have thought that they recognized in the ancient world technical processes which originated at a much later date. The evidence is often equivocal or insufficient, but may still yield details that have been overlooked.

The textile expression scutulatus, to take an example, deserves more attention than Blümner has devoted to it. When it refers to the appearance of a garment, Lewis and Short, s.v. scutulatus, translate ‘diamond or lozenge-shaped, checkered’. It seems worth while to attempt a more precise translation, and, if possible, to estimate the significance in context of the goods so designated.

This is the first of two articles attempting a literary assessment of Valerius Flaccus' Argonautica. It will examine the poem from the beginning to 3. 474, and its successor will cover from 4. 58 to the end. Thus, there will be no overlap with matter already printed in my article, ‘The Hylas Episode in Valerius Flaccus' Argonautica’ (C.Q. N.S. xiii [1963], 260–7), and instances of the poet's application in other sections of the same literary principles as in the Hylas story may now be dealt with summarily. The episodes are treated in order of importance rather than of occurrence, with the emphasis at present on broad outlines rather than linguistic or metrical minutiae. Even within these limitations, this assessment does not aim at exhaustiveness. Where a section of the Argonautica is unremarkable and throws little light on Valerius' poetic method, pro re pauca loquar.

From the scholarly activity of the fourth and fifth centuries A.D. stem several collections of scholia to the poems of Virgil, most of which make copious reference to prose and verse composed in Latin before Virgil's time. The authors of these scholia were the last of a long line of commentators whose labours began soon after Virgil's death. Just as Virgil walked in the tracks of Theocritus, Hesiod, Aratus, Nicander, Homer, and Apollonius, so did his students in the tracks of the great Alexandrian expositors of the Greek poets. They sought to explain Virgil not only through Virgil himself, but also through the poets and prose writers, Greek and Latin, whom they imagined Virgil to have read. Thus we have scholia citing early republican literature in order to parallel words uncommon in or absent from the fourth-century classical syllabus, as well as unclassical usages, inflections, and constructions; in order to demonstrate ‘imitations’ on the part of Virgil; and in order to elucidate the structure of episodes of the three poems where Virgil appears to depart from the most commonly known versions of myth and history. Argument concerning the text or interpretation of a disputed passage is frequently based on appeal to the usage of Virgil's Latin predecessors.

Claudius Marius Victor (or Victorius), a rhetor of Marseilles (according to Gennadius), composed in the first half of the fifth century a metrical paraphrase of Genesis from the creation of the world up to the destruction of Sodom. The work, which amounts to something over 2,000 lines and is supposedly unfinished, is entitled Alethia, seasoned with occasional discussion of philosophic or other matter, and written with the expressed hope of improving the minds of the young. The text depends on a single ninth-century Paris manuscript (P), which contains errors that are numerous but in general rudimentary and susceptible of convincing emendation. The first serious edition—for the edition of J. de Gagny (1536), though it offered many useful emendations, was too full of licentious alterations, excisions, and additions, to rank as such—was that of G. Morel (1560). The next editor, G. Fabricius (1564), in spite of his awareness of Morel's edition, did little more than reproduce the depraved text of Gagny.

One of the gains to be reckoned from the study of nomenclature in the sepulchral inscriptions of the early empire is the gradual abandonment of attempts to distinguish between slave and freeborn on the basis of personal name or cognomen alone, especially when this is of Latin derivation. Nevertheless, one still finds personal cognomina in undated inscriptions adduced as sole evidence for the origin or status of individuals below senatorial rank. Thus in a standard work on freedmen in the early empire, recently reprinted, names such as Agilis, Amandus, Auctus, Communis, Donatus, Faustus, Felix, etc., are said to be commonly servile, but others such as Aquila, Bassus, Capito, Cams, Celer, Crescens, etc., are taken as ingenuous. The criteria used in making such a distinction are subjective and arbitrary and the statistics based on them are largely valueless. It is the purpose of this note to consider briefly on this question the evidence of the personal nomenclature of the Imperial slaves and freedmen. In this group, the Familia Caesaris, no problem of status arises, and the fact that the majority of their inscriptions can be dated, at least approximately, makes it possible to trace the chronological development of the use of cognomina ingenua by one important group of servile origin from the first to the early third century A.D. Moreover, such a development is useful evidence for change in the social structure of the early empire.

That Ammianus Marcellinus was a pagan is agreed on all sides. He was no Eunapius to vilify and slander the Christians, and no Macrobius to pretend that they did not exist; nevertheless, while not (at any rate overtly) hostile to the new religion, he still adhered to the old. It is, however, customary to quote as an illustration of his attitude to Christianity the numerous passages where he refers to things Christian in a curiously roundabout fashion, as if unfamiliar with the words he was using. Instances such as ‘Christiani ritus presbyter (utipsi appellant)’ (31. 12. 8), ‘coetus in unum quaesitus eiusdem legis cultorum (synodus ut appellant)’ (15. 7. 7), ‘inductus est (ut appellant Christiani) diaconus’ (14. 9. 7), would seem at first sight to justify the conclusion of P. de Jonge that ‘Ammianus speaks of Christianity as an alien religion which is not professed by him’.