Everyone who has the slightest acquaintance with the Crimea at the present time, and especially with the economic conditions which prevail there, is thoroughly aware of its intimate connexion, both economic and social, with the southern coast of the Black Sea—with Samsun, Eregli, Sinope, Kerasund, Trebizond and other towns. Great masses of workmen from these parts flood the cities of the Crimea. Practically all shipments by sea in vessels of small displacement are carried out by the owners of feluccas, who hail from the municipal centres of ancient Pontus and from the neighbouring sea-towns of what was once Bithynia. A glance at the map is sufficient to show that there is no casual connexion here; the close interconnexion between the shores of the Crimea and the southern coast of the Black Sea, which is almost visible with the naked eye from the southernmost point of the Crimea, has been brought about by the natural conditions of the locality. The decline in the prosperity of the southern Turkish coast of the Black Sea and the great prosperity of the Crimea in the years immediately preceding the war were the chief reasons why the Crimea played the part of employer, and the sea towns of the southern coast the part of supplier of labour. They provided as well the necessary tonnage for coastwise shipping, mostly in the shape of small sailing vessels. Such could not always be the case, nor indeed have such conditions continuously prevailed, although, generally speaking, similar relations must needs be established quite independent of the fortune assigned by history to the districts with which we are now dealing.

Though the name of Demetrios of Skepsis is hardly known to us except through Strabo, he was in his way a remarkable man. The only independent account of him is a mention by Diogenes Laertius as one in a list of well-known namesakes; ἑνδέκατος Σκήψιος, πλούσιος καὶ εὐγενὴςἄνθρωπος καὶ φιλόλογος ἄκρως οὖτος καὶ Μητρόδωρον προεβιβασε τὸνπολίτην (V. v. 11). The date of his birth is fairly closely fixed by his own statement in Strabo (XIII. i. 27) that he visited Ilium as a boy (μειράκιον) when the Romans landed in Asia to attack Antiochus, i.e. in 190 B.C. The word μειράκιον may be taken to mean anything from about 14 to 20 years of age. Demetrios therefore cannot have been born much before or after 205 B.C. Some surprise may be felt at the statement that he gave Metrodoros his start in life; Metrodoros, the friend of Mithridates, died, as we know from Strabo (XIII. i. 55) and Plutarch Lucullus 22) in or immediately after 70 B.C. The lives of the two men therefore cover some 135 years; if both lived to be 75, Metrodoros can only have been 15 at Demetrios' death. The description of Demetrios as ‘a man of wealth and birth, and a scholar to his finger-tips’ is quite borne out by what we know of his works. He plainly inherited the tradition of the little nest of Platonists and Aristotelians who were established at Skepsis and the neighbouring Assos; he was an enthusiast for Homer and geography, and devoted his life to a geographical commentary on Homer, and more particularly to the Trojan Catalogue, which so nearly concerned his native Troad: He found place, however, for excursuses of very wide range; for instance the long one on the Kuretes in Strabo X. iii. 19–22. Another on the changes in the face of the earth produced by volcanic action is quoted in l. iii. 17.

Dr. Leaf's article J.H.S. xxxvii. 1917, 19–30, shows the nature of some of the vicissitudes through which the text of Strabo has passed in transmission, and illustrates the possibility of restoring it through the elimination of extraneous marginalia. My own studies in this author's account of Latium have brought to my attention two instructive instances of the other class of marginalia to which Dr. Leaf refers on p. 19 of his article, namely, those due to the author himself, who in revising his manuscript appended, we must suppose, the passages in question, which subsequently became inserted in the text at a wrong point.

The first of these two instances occurs in V. iii. 8, in the enthusiastic description of Rome; and failure to realise the transposition which has taken place has impeded full appreciation of the effectiveness of this, one of the few rhetorical climaxes in our author's description of Italy. The existence of the transposition was, however, noted, and properly explained, some years ago, by P. Meyer.

Among the more elaborate pieces of purely military history written by Thucydides is the section (of fourteen chapters in the Fifth Book) devoted to that Arkadian campaign of King Agis by which, in the late summer of 418 B.C., he ruined the far-reaching schemes of Alkibiades and restored the tarnished prestige of Sparta. According, to Thucydides, this fortunate achievement was due more to good luck than to good management; not in any wise is it exhibited as the reasonably forecast outcome of cunningly contrived, if somewhat delicately articulated, machinery. Something less than justice is thereby done to one of the most remarkable personages of that time. Both by Thucydides himself, and, after his example, by most modern historians, the Spartan king, in his connexion with these operations at any rate, is pilloried without further question as a bungler, and, indeed, as little better than a fool. It would seem that the time has come to ask whether that verdict is justified.

Anthropology has been busy with the Olympic Games. The theories which I propose to discuss have now been before the public for some years and, though they have not met with any general acceptance, there has not been, as far as I know, any critical examination of the evidence on which they are based, and there is a danger that they may be taken on trust. This is the reason for the publication of the following pages. They were intended to form part of a work on Olympia on which I have long been engaged, the issue of which has been delayed by present circumstances. Forming as they do part of a continuous work, I may be allowed to state briefly certain conclusions which I hope to establish later, some of which, are assumed in the present article, though my argument is, in reality, independent of their correctness.

I. The history of Olympia and the North-west Peloponnese, as far as we can trace it, has always depended on the north and west and has been independent of the Aegean. Though the earliest inhabitants may possibly have been of the same stock as the Aegeans, they were always out of touch with the centre of that civilization and the land was, at a very early period, occupied by northern immigrants.

I feel that first of all I owe you a word of explanation why I, who have never studied the history of the Greek War of Independence, should have ventured to speak to you to-day about two of the best known of the Britons who then offered their services to Greece against the Turks. Finlay was an intimate friend and the executor of Hastings, and had in his possession much of his friend's correspondence and other papers. Consequently, when many years after Finlay's death, his library was presented to the British School, among his private papers, manuscripts and journals were found, those of Hastings as well. I have therefore drawn largely on this still unpublished material to illustrate the lives and careers of these two British Philhellenes.

In the attempt at reviving the music of bygone ages the question of the scales employed, or, in other words, the tonality, confronts us at the very outset. Until this is answered our transcriptions must lack all reality. The case of ancient Greek music shews that nearly all the discussion has been about the nature of the modes; and there, in spite of copious original authorities, no hypothesis, not even the orthodox view, has been framed with sufficient plausibility to escape attack from many quarters. Now in Byzantine music the notation can be deciphered (in MSS. of the thirteenth century and later), as far as it gives us the melodic progression, while I have tried to prove that the indications of rhythm can be consistently and adequately interpreted. But when we study the modes we find scarcely any data to help us. The interval-signs make no distinction between whole-tones and any smaller steps: the mediaeval theorists tell us little or nothing about the character of the intervals. Furthermore the series of modern Greek scales differs entirely from the mediaeval systems of Europe; and western and Neohellenic theorists in discussing Byzantine music have usually, with some honourable exceptions, gone their own way without the slightest regard for contrary opinions. But obviously no final understanding can be expected before this disagreement is faced and, if possible, explained and accounted for.

Two mosques in Galata—the Mosque of the Arabs (Arab Djami) and the Mosque of the Leaded Store (Kurshunlu Maghzen Djamisi)—lay claim to be the earliest buildings consecrated to Moslem worship in Constantinople. Both are supposed to date from the period of the Arab sieges, many centuries before the Ottoman conquest. Their traditional claim to this honourable pedigree is of some antiquity. Evliya Effendi, in the middle of the seventeenth century, already attributes an Arab origin to four buildings in Galata, of which two are the mosques in question and the others a lead-roofed granary (Kurshunlu Maghzen), still used as such in his time, and the famous Galata Tower. All these, and in addition the Rose Mosque (Gul-Djami) in Stamboul, are supposed to have been built during the famous siege of Constantinople by the Arabs under Maslama.

Although as long ago as 1876 Schliemann's excavations at Mycenae revealed to us the prehistoric civilisation of the Peloponnese, it is only comparatively recently that its pre-Mycenaean culture has become known. For Crete the epoch-making excavations of Sir Arthur Evans have made clear to us the long pottery sequence which illustrates the development of prehistoric civilisation in that island from the end of neolithic times, through the great age of the palace of Knossos, to its decline and fall in the Third Late Minoan period. For the Cyclades the pottery sequence from Phylakopi, with other finds, provides us with a series parallel to the Cretan; and for Thessaly, too, a provisional series has been established. But for the history of civilisation in the Peloponnese and East-Central Greece during the long prehistoric age the only evidence we had was that from Mycenae, Tiryns, and one or two other small sites, all of which illustrate the last phases only.

The notable series of legal documents from Mylasa and her small neighbour Olymos, which show how the landed investments of Carian temples were dealt with at the beginning of the second quarter of the first century B.C., have lately been somewhat neglected by scholars. Boeckh made a good beginning (C.I.G. 2693e, 2694), but Waddington was the first to edit and to explain these inscriptions intelligibly (L.B.W. iii. 323–416). Judeich made, in 1889–90, a valuable revision of Waddington's principal texts, besides contributing several new ones of his own (Ath. Mitt. xiv. pp. 367 f.; xv. pp. 259 f.). In 1891 Dareste, Haussoullier, and Reinach (Inscr. jurid. gr. i., p. 242–49) edited, with translations and commentary, the important documents copied in 1881 and 1888 by Hauvette-Besnault and Dubois (B.C.H. v. pp. 108–119) and by Cousin and Diehl (B.C.H. xii. p. 30). A number of new fragments were published without commentary by Hula and Szanto in 1895 (Wien. S. Ber. 132. ii. pp. 1 f.) and by G. Cousin in 1898 (B.C.H. xxii. pp. 380–402; 421–439).