Plutarch concludes his chapter on the Rhetra (Lye. 6) with six lines of Tyrtaios:

φο⋯βου ⋯κο⋯ςσαντες Πυθων⋯θεν οἴκαδ' ἔνεικαν1

μαντε⋯ας τε θεο⋯ κα⋯ τελ⋯εντ' ἔπεα

ἄρχειν μ⋯ν βουλῦς θεοτιμ⋯τους βασιλ⋯ας

οἷσι μ⋯λει Σπ⋯ρτας ἱμερ⋯εσσα π⋯λις

πρεσβ⋯τας τε γ⋯ροντας, ἔπειτα δ⋯ δημ⋯τας ἄνδρας

πὐθε⋯αις ῥ⋯τραις ⋯ντααπαμειβομ⋯νους.

These lines are quoted to confirm Plutarch's statement, that the Kings who added the last clause to the Rhetra (what I have called Clause III, α⋯ δ⋯ οκολι⋯ν, etc.) ‘persuaded the city [to accept this addition] on the grounds that it was part of the God's command'. On Plutarch's view, the two Kings added an extra clause to an oracle, and justified their action by alleging that Delphi had authorized the clause. It is not immediately obvious how Tyrtaios’ lines confirm this view. The Delphic utterance whose substance is given in lines 3–6 approximately paraphrases parts of Clauses I and I I (γερωσἰαν σὺρχαγ⋯ταις … τοὺτως εἰσφ⋯ρειν … δ⋯μω δ' ⋯ντααγορ⋯ααν ἦμεν), but where is Clause III ? The burden has to be borne by the one word εὐθε⋯αις: ‘the Kings and gerontes shall initiate business, the demos shall reply with undistorted rhetrai’ or ‘shall respond to the rhetrai without distorting them’ (according as we take the dative ῥ⋯τραις as instrumental or as a true dative). If εὐθε⋯αις is given enough weight, the oracle which Tyrtaios quotes may be held to forbid the ‘excessive amendment’ against which Clause III was (in Plutarch's view) aimed.

Since it is only natural that lovers of a great poet's work should seek to defend their favourite from the charge of plagiarism, most of the scholars who have discussed the problem of the relationship between the Medeas of Neophron and Euripides have, whether consciously or unconsciously, approached their task in no very impartial spirit. Yet the prejudice against acknowledging Euripides' indebtedness to his predecessor is an unreasonable one, for a great tragedy or a great work of art of any kind must be aesthetically judged without regard to its forerunners. For instance, we do not think any the worse of Antony and Cleopatra or of its author when we notice that ‘The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne’, etc., and many other fine passages in that play are taken almost verbatim from Sir Thomas North. If we bear in mind then that whatever the result of our inquiry it will not affect adversely the reputation of Euripides' great work, we cannot fail to be impressed by the tenuous nature of the arguments by which scholars have convinced themselves of the chronological priority of Euripides' Medea as against Neophron's.

Plutarch, Aet. Graec. 5, p. 292 B: “Τ⋯νεσ οἱ παρ' ‘Αρκ⋯σι κα⋯ δακεδσιμον⋯οισ χρηοτο⋯;” δακεδαιμ⋯νιοι Τεγε⋯ταισ διαλλαγ⋯ντεσ ⋯ποι⋯σαντο συνθ⋯κασ κα⋯ στ⋯λην ⋯π' 'αλΑει⋯ι κοιν⋯ν ⋯ν⋯στησαν, ⋯ν ἧι μετ⋯ τ⋯ν γ⋯γραπται Μεσσην⋯ουσ ⋯κβαλεῖν ⋯κ τ⋯σ χὠρασ κα⋯ μ⋯ ⋯ξεῖναι χρηστοὺσ ποιεῖν. ⋯ξηγο⋯μενοσ οὖν ⋯ 'αριστοτελησ τοὖτο πησι δυνασθαι το μ⋯ ⋯ποκτινν⋯ναι βοηθε⋯νασ χ⋯ριν τοῖσ λακωνιζονσιν τ⋯ν Τεγεατ⋯ν.

The clear affinity between Quintilian's art-criticism (xii. 10. 3–9) and the comparable portions of Pliny's Natural History has often been remarked. Pliny's principal sources for his chapters on art have long been recognized as going back through Varro to the great third-century critics, Xenocrates of Sicyon and Antigonus of Carystus, the latter of whom worked over Xenocrates' treatise and incorporated new material of his own; an earlier Greek source was Duris of Samos, on whom Antigonus drew for the anecdotic element in his tradition. The careful work of many patient scholars has been successful in disentangling to a considerable extent the characteristic contributions of these and other authorities to Pliny's medley of information. On the other hand, Quintilian's incursion into the same field seems never to have been studied independently, but only incidentally to research on the Plinian sources. The purpose of this paper is to examine Quintilian's contribution afresh; my indebtedness to earlier studies, in particular to those of Robert, will be readily apparent.

Professor Fraenkel in his recent very illuminating article on ‘The Stars in the Prologue of the Rudens’ (C.Q. xxxvi. 10 ff.) has explained how a Greek poet at the end of the fourth century could describe the stars as the messengers of Zeus and as his regular and, so to speak, professional informants on the sins and evil deeds of human beings. He also comments on the idea that the sins are recorded in Heaven (eorum referimus nomina exscripta ad Iovem) and says—rightly as I hope to show—that this idea ‘though more familiar to us from Semitic sources is a genuine Hellenic belief’. Following Friedrich Marx, he quotes a fragment from Euripides' Melanippe (506 N.2).

Delia is being carefully watched and the door is locked to keep her in and her lover out (lines 5–6). It is hardly reasonable to suppose that she has in these circumstances been left in possession of the key; it is presumably in the custody of the ianitor. According to Ovid(A.A. iii. 643), what girls in this situation did was to have a duplicate key (adultera clauis) fabricated for use when occasion offered.

The Delphin Ed. note ‘Par. pro fixo habet fcdso’ may, of course, record what is merely a correction. Falso may, on the other hand, have arisen from a gloss on a reading ficto in a manuscript prior to those extant, which could easily have degenerated to fixo. This reading would sufficiently improve the sense of the passage to merit consideration, for lines 17 ff., while couched in general terms, clearly refer to the situation in which Tibullus and Delia are placed and describe the kind of behaviour by which they are to merit Venus' aid.

This famous sentence, which opens the address of the Demiurge to the created gods, has puzzled commentators both ancient and modern. We must, I think, agree with Taylor and Cornford, who both discuss it at length, that no sense can be got out of θεọἰ θε⋯ν taken together, i.e. with a comma after θε⋯ν: I need notreproduce their arguments on this point. Accordingly they punctuate after θεọἰ. Taylor, however, thinks that even so the sentence cannot be translated, and accepts Badham's proposal to read ộδων in place of θε⋯ν ⋯ν. He then takes ộδων ἒπγων as an instance of ‘inverse relative attraction’ and translates ‘Ye gods, works whereof I am maker and father, seeing they were fashioned by my hands, are indissoluble without my consent’. Cornford objects to ộδων on the grounds that it creates an objectionable hiatus between the first two words (and it is true that the Timaeus is very sparing of hiatus), and also that it destroys what he finds to be the dominant rhythm of the whole speech, and particularly of this first sentence. That rhythm is Cretic: θεọἰ θε⋯ν ⋯ν ẻγὠ δημωνπγ⋯ς πατ⋯π ἒπγων: which he compares the famous opening of the De Corona τοῖς θεοῖς ε⋯χομα π⋯δ κα⋯ π⋯δς. I am, however, doubtful about the cogency of this argument from rhythm, as I have noticed a number of places in the dialogue where a similar rhythm occurs to all appearance naturally:

58 A κα⋯ ππ⋯ς αὐτὐν πεφνκνῖα βοὑλεδθα.

66 C ⋯δὺ κα⋯ ποδφλ⋯ς παντ⋯ π⋯ν.

70 A τ⋯ν τε δ⋯ καπδ⋯αν ⋯μμ⋯των.

77 A τ⋯ς γ⋯π ⋯νθπωπ⋯νης δνγγεν⋯

81 δ⋯γκλεν αὐτ⋯ν ππ⋯ς ἂλληλα κ⋯κτηα.

Enn. I. vi. 1. (p. 87, 1. 6) 9 π⋯ν μ⋯ν γ⋯ρ ἄμορφον, πεφυκ⋯ς μορφ⋯ν κα⋯ εἶδος δ⋯χεσθαι ἄμοιρν ⋯ν λ⋯γον κα⋯ εἴδους εἴδονς αἰσχρ⋯ν κα⋯ ἒξω θε⋯ου λ⋯γον. It is strange that no one seems to have questioned ἒξω θε⋯ου λ⋯γον which, after ἄμοιρν ⋯ν λ⋯γον is merely tautologous: and what point is there here in ‘divine reason’? Since, in these chapters on ‘beauty’, Plotinus has the Phaedrus much in mind, it is natural to suppose that what he wrote was ἒξω θε⋯ου λ⋯γον borrowed from Phaedr. 247 A.

It is customary to consider late Imperial historiography as a barren waste of meagre and inaccurate chronicles and incompetent rhetorical epitomes, all overshadowed by the giant figure of Ammianus Marcellinus, the greatest literary genius, as E. Stein has called him (with some exaggeration), between Tacitus and Dante. In fact, however, the fifth century A.D. produced at least one writer who was, in the words of Niebuhr, ‘second to no historian even of the best ages in talent, good faith and wisdom; elegant and very pure in style, he justly acquired praise and glory both among contemporaries and succeeding ages’. Niebuhr was referring to Priscus of Panium in Thrace, but Priscus was a member of a school of historical writing which had been founded earlier in the fifth century by Olympiodorus, an historian of scarcely less merit than Priscus and author of what J. B. Bury called ‘a highly important work’. Since even Schmid-Stahlin are not able to refer to a single essay or mono-graph on Olympiodorus, it may not be amiss to assemble the facts which are known about him and to try to discover, so far as the scanty materials permit, what sort of man he was and what sort of work he produced.

The far west in Hesiod's world is confused, and probably reflects a dim knowledge drawn from the Phoenicians in Sicily, where the Greeks bought Tartessian silver. Beneath myths and traditions we may discern a few historical facts: the dynasty of the Tartessian kings, the Phoenician wars with King Geron of Tartessos (about the turn of the ninth to eighth centuries), followed by the ‘Phoenician Thalassocracy’ and a Tartessian attempt to establish direct commercial relations with Sardinia.

This long and complicated sentence has not been correctly translated nor clearly explained by any of the editors of the Phaedo that I have been able to consult. Bekker, Stallbaum, Wohlrab, Geddes, Wagner, Archer-Hind, Williamson, Burnet, in their notes on the passage say much that is true, but all seem to fall into certain errors. None of them has given an accurate and coherent picture of the passage as a whole. In attempting to supply such a picture I have pointed out what I believe to be the mistakes of these editors, and on certain points of grammar, textual criticism, and interpretation I have some new suggestions to offer. So much emphasis on one sentence is not misplaced, for this is an important sentence, the culminating point of the first section of the dialogue, and containing in brief the essence of the ethics which Plato expounds through the mouth of Socrates. It is the peroration of Socrates' Apologia pro Vita sua, introduced by the impressive words: ⋯ μακ⋯ριε ειμμ^iota;α, a form of address often used by Socrates in passages of ‘pith and moment’.