The importance of the Greeks in the history of alphabetic writing is paramount. All alphabets used in Europe today stand in direct or indirect relation to the ancient Greek. Several other alphabets—some long out of use—were also of Greek origin. That the Greek alphabet was not an original invention, but was in fact directly adapted from that of the North-west Semitic peoples (including the Phoenicians, the Aramaeans, and the ancient Hebrews), is now the opinion of all serious scholars. That the adaptation took place in the first two or three centuries of the 1st millennium B.C. is the increasingly accepted view, though scholarly dispute on the subject, complicated by an almost total lack of positive evidence, remains intense. It is worth adding that no evidence has hitherto been found that writing of any kind was employed in Greece between the time of the Linear B tablets of Pylos (c. 1200 B.c.) and the taking over of the North-Semitic alphabet.

The interpretations of the Dead Sea Scrolls propagated by the overwhelming majority of Scrolls scholars start with the assumption that the Scrolls are not later than the second half of the first Christian century—more precisely, not later than June, A.D. 68—the only exceptions being those of one or two scholars who prefer a slightly later date. The exact terminus ad quem is not, however, based on any evidence contained in the Scrolls themselves, but was propounded by Père de Vaux as a conclusion derived from his excavations of the Qumran building and was taken over from him by the Scrolls scholars.

Pantelleria is a small island, 34 square miles or so, lying south of the western end of Sicily and within sight of Cape Bon, the projecting tip of the African coast (FIG. I). Though every ship through the Sicilian straits passes close by, it can be extraordinarily isolated, as we found to our cost on a visit in November, 1962. Winter storms can, and occasionally do, cut it off for days at a time. Despite its archaeological wealth, recorded by Paolo Orsi in 1899 (n. 1), it seems that its isolation has discouraged archaeologists from visiting it since the days of Peet and Zammit, early this century. Its ‘sesi’ have become almost a myth.

The land known by the name of Dilmun (or Telmun) in the cuneiform documents has been identified by most scholars with the island of Bahrein in the Persian T Gulf (note 1), and for the past nine years a large and competent Danish expedition has been excavating on the island in the hope of uncovering there the origin of the Sumerians and their civilization (note 2). Several scholars have located Dilmun in Iran, south of Elam, and have taken it to be a land bordering on the eastern shore of the Persian Gulf, whose hinterland included the province of Persis (note 3). This was the localization of Dilmun which seemed most likely to me when preparing the article 'Dilmun and the Land of the Living' some two decades ago (note 4). In recent years, however, new inscriptional material has become available which indicates that whatever its western boundary, Dilmun extended much farther to the east and included much, if not all, of that part of Iran, Pakistan, and India on which flourished the Indus or Harappan civilization (note 5). The following pages will sketch the pertinent cuneiform evidence for this identification of Dilmun in the chronological order in which it came to my attention over the years.

This investigation has been carried out to determine if any useful archaeological information can be obtained from the pathological features to be found in ancient human dentitions. Variations in dental decay, attrition, ante-mortem loss of teeth, and malocclusion have been observed in skulls from the Neolithic to Anglo-Saxon periods. Diet has been shown to be a major factor in the aetiology of dental disease and since diet is also related to social conditions it ought to be possible to derive some information from teeth concerning culture.

An intractable difficulty in this study is that the skeletal remains of the more ancient civilizations are comparatively rare (n. 1). The material that does exist is often unsatisfactory because of fragmentary condition and sometimes inadequate excavation reporting. Data has to be derived from small samples which may give a misleading picture. Another difficulty lies in the definition of pathological features; for example, the term malocclusion allows broad interpretation which has resulted in wide variations in frequencies observed. In this case specialist orthodontists tend to find a much greater incidence for a particular period than less experienced operators (n. 2). Post-mortem changes may also confuse the picture since in some soils erosion occurs which may simulate caries. Archaeological samples are nearly always drawn from widely differing backgrounds so that the size of the sample and the length of the period it represents may vary greatly. Brinch and Moller-Christensen say it is quite unjustifiable to compare results drawn from such samples (n. 3).

It was Dr Margaret Murray, my predecessor in charge of the Flinders Petrie Collection of Ancient Egyptian Antiquities, whose 100th birthday we look forward to celebrating this year, who encouraged me to re-study as many as possible of the antiquities found at Hierakonpolis; for she holds that the original publication was, as is not surprising, inadequate by modern standards.

We have in the Petrie Collection two pieces of large yellow limestone macehead (UCI4898 and 14898A). They have hitherto been considered to belong to the same macehead, being published by Quibell and Green as the first of three great maceheads, of which no. 2 is in Cairo and no. 3 in the Ashmolean at Oxford. It is not surprising that our two fragments should have been thought to have come from the same mace, for the subject of the relief decoration on each is the conquest of the Pigtail people, and both are of yellow limestone. But I am indebted to my artist, Mr W. Masiewicz, who drew FIGS. 1 and 2, for drawing my attention to points indicating that they are not from the same macehead.

In advancing our knowledge of ancient science and technology our greatest need is for accurate accounts of technical processes, based on detailed study of all the available evidence, both literary and archaeological, and on the rigorous exclusion of sweeping generalizations in the discussion of questions where evidence is scanty and interpretation uncertain.

The discussion that follows is a small contribution, based on close study of the evidence, towards the solution of a complex of problems which are of considerable importance to the student of Roman history. Unfortunately, statistical information on crop-yields is wholly lacking, and the researcher is reduced to the task of sifting a variety of scattered evidence from different periods and areas of cultivation.

Excavation of the pond barrow at Normanton Gorse, Wilsford, disclosed the weathered top of a circular and vertical shaft which proved to be nearly 100 ft. in depth. Its fill, the result of natural silting processes, contained pottery in the upper part and, at the waterlogged bottom, broken wooden vessels and other objects, besides a mass of rotted wood, seeds, leaves and other organic remains. The dished and funnelled top of the shaft as well as the uneven sides were, for more than a third of their depth, the product of natural weathering. Below here distinctive antler-pick marks and the clear traces of a broad-bladed metal axe showed that the shaft had been dug in short sections, checked by template and plumbline. No positive trace of how the prehistoric engineers moved up and down their sophisticated shaft remained. Archaeological excavation, beyond the preliminary stages and under exacting and claustrophobic conditions, demanded lighting and mechanical aids. Communication and all-round control posed especial problems.

For obvious reasons, any question concerning the rural archaeology of the Roman West is likely to begin and end in France, and the necessity of taking the French evidence on any given topic into account is something of which non-French historians and archaeologists do not need to be reminded. The fact that such evidence is so often unsatisfactory and incomplete is frequently ascribed to inferior excavation techniques or methods of presentation, but although this is all too often the case a large part of the trouble seems to stem from the lack of proper co-ordination with regard to problems and programmes of study. It happens to be a fact that French archaeologists, in this particular field, are not always interested in the same topics, and are consequently not asking the same questions as their English counterparts. The questions and interests that lie at the back of the excavator's mind as he works are bound to colour the content and composition of his final report, and, unless these questions and interests are brought into the open and written down, the value of the material he provides is bound to be limited. Consequently, any publication which, however slightly, sets out the principles and aims of French rural archaeology is to be welcomed.

The first test of the accuracy of dates obtained by the radiocarbon technique was made by determining whether dates so obtained agreed with the historical dates for materials of known age (n. 1). The validity of the radiocarbon method continues to be an important question, especially in the light of the numerous results that have been accumulated and the greater precision of the technique during the past few years (n. 2).

The radiocarbon content of the biosphere depends on three supposedly independent geophysical quantities: (i) the average cosmic ray intensity over a period of 8000 years (the average life of radiocarbon) as measured in our solar system but outside the earth's magnetic field (n. 1); (ii) the magnitude (but not the orientation, because of the relatively rapid mixing over the earth's surface) of the magnetic field in the vicinity of the earth, averaged over the same period (n. 1,3); and (iii) the degree of mixing of the oceans during the same period (n. 1). The question of the accuracy of radiocarbon dates therefore is of interest to geophysicists in general as well as to the archaeologists, geologists and historians who use the dates.

Previous workers in this area (n. 1, 2) have reported some discrepancies, and it is the purpose here to consider the matter further.

It is commonly held in the existing literature that prehistoric peoples were compelled to kill off an abnormally high proportion of their livestock in autumn because of a lack of winter fodder. There is literary evidence for autumn killing in several European localities (n. 1). It is therefore a plausible assumption that earlier cultures are hardly less likely to have been more successful in overcoming this difficulty. This article is concerned to examine whether this assumption is valid.

The inference generally made about autumn killing rests almost entirely on Watson’s report on the Skara Brae bones (n. 2). By the use of Watson’s method such a claim may also be made for the Old Sleaford sheep, and this is shown here. But there are grounds for supposing that such a claim is methodologically unjustified, and we have endeavoured to set out a method by which such claims may be tested.

In 1931 Dr O. G. S. Crawford published his survey of the Chiltern Grim’s Ditch in ANTIQUITY, and in the following issue Mr M. W. Hughes related it to Cuthwulf’s expedition to the Chilterns in A.D. 571. It is my intention in this paper to show that Mr Hughes had no evidence for so dating the earthwork and to demonstrate that it most probably belongs to the Iron Age. Closer study on the ground has shown that it is cut by two Roman roads, and is more extensive than Crawford realized, although he had credited it with a Berkhampstead section that cannot belong to it. The only question which really remains to be considered is whether the Ditch belongs to the Belgic Iron Age, since the Belgae are known to have dug cross-country dykes, or to the pre-Belgic Iron Age, since I have recently assigned this date to a number of cross-ridge dykes not far away in the eastern Chilterns.

Professor Hawkes’s important article on ‘The British Museum and British Archaeology’ in the December number of ANTIQUITY is based on an intimate knowledge of the Museum and a sympathetic understanding of the disabilities which have beset it since the war. It may be that he is not fully aware of the changes in work and tempo that have markedly developed since he himself left the staff in 1946, but we know well that his article reflects a widespread impatience to see an end of the disabilities and the problems which have developed as the direct result of the war; and above all to see created in the National Museum an organization for dealing with British archaeology and antiquities which will be equal to the great advance of the subject that has taken place in this century, and with dramatic acceleration in the post-war years. No one is keener to see this development than the staff of the Department of British Antiquities who are entirely alive to what is required. We fully recognize, therefore, the importance of what Professor Hawkes has to say, but he does seem to be in some danger of falling into the mistake that many other less well-informed and less well-intentioned critics have made—of assuming that the honourable scars which still disfigure the British Museum and the overcrowding which was the inevitable concomitant of an informed and successful collecting policy in the Museum’s many departments, are being complacently lived with and that nothing has been done to bring about the speedy disappearance of these obstacles to our service.