On page 318 of F. M. Simpson's History of Architectural Development, vol. 1 (Longmans, 1956) I reprinted as fig. 107 the plan of Trajan's Forum from the earlier edition. I reprint it again here as Fig. 1. The plan is Lanciani's (Forma Urbis Romae, Milan, 1893, IV, 1). Compare R. Lanciani, Ruins and Excavations (London, 1897), fig. 119. This has drawn on me the strictures of scholars. Thus R. Martin writes (Revue des Études anciennes, p. 404, n. 1) that my book commits an ‘erreur dans le plan du forum de Trajan, qui ne rend pas la forme circulaire du côté méridional de la cour reconnu par G. Lugli’. By which he seems to mean that my plan makes the front wall of the court, to each side of the triumphal arch, straight and not segmental. A. von Gerkan, in Gymnasium, 1958, p. 545, remarks that in my book ‘gar zu oft hoffnungslos veraltetes Material vorgelegt wird. Das Trajansforum Abb. 107 ist ein groteskes Beispiel dafür’. Alas! following his usual custom, he gives no evidence for his statements, gladly though I should learn about these things.

The classical periodical literature of the last thirty years or so does not contain much about Virgil's fifth Eclogue, and those scholars who have written on it have mostly been concerned with the mysterious figure of Daphnis and the question of his relationship to Julius Caesar. Two exceptions are Adelaide Hahn, who briefly discussed the first 19 lines to show that the characters of Menalcas and Mopsus are sharply differentiated, and Peter Steinmetz, who, in an article about the Eclogues as dramatic poems, devoted three short paragraphs to Eclogue 5 and argued for the existence of a homosexual element in the exchanges between the two shepherds. Like Hahn and Steinmetz, I shall be concerned with characterisation and dramatic progression. It seems to me that the poem is most interesting if regarded primarily as a mime, with a beginning, a middle and an end, a miniature comedy in which we are expected to read between the lines.

The following is a discussion of some characteristic features of Greek science. In singling out any one such characteristic one is, of course, in danger of over-emphasizing its role and of blacking-out the background of other equally characteristic features, some of which may well be effective in a very different and indeed opposite way. The argument presented here must therefore not be understood as a complete description or analysis of the character of Greek science. What is described here is only one tendency; a tendency observable in the work of many different thinkers; but also a tendency often counteracted, balanced, and sometimes almost submerged by opposite tendencies in the same thinkers. What is claimed here is no more than that certain characteristics are proportionately more prominent in ancient scientific thought and practice than they are today; it is not claimed that they were always dominant in antiquity or that they are completely foreign to modern science.

For Dionysius of Halicarnassus, an important part of the historian's task is the gathering and analysis of material. The present article is concerned with one particular aspect of this, namely, the investigation of chronology. It has two aims: first, to defend the accuracy of Dionysius' chronological system against the sometimes unfair criticisms of modern scholars; second, to assess how, in his perception, the role of chronographical research related to a historical work on a noncontemporary subject.

The research qualities Dionysius singled out for praise in the writings of Theopompus – a historian he much admired – were care, effort, preparation, and autoptic investigation. Not all of these were applicable to a historian who chose a non-contemporary theme. However, within the limits determined by his subject – Rome's origins and history to 264 B.C. – Dionysius similarly attempted preparatory work and investigation of data for his history.

This note is intended as a contribution towards a better understanding of the structure of credit relations in Greek society.

Diogenes Laertios: Life of Menippos 6.99 (Long):

.

This passage has been consistently misunderstood by translators and commentators. Typical of the confusion is the translation by Hicks in the Loeb edition:

Hermippos says that he [Menippos] lent out money by the day and got a nickname from doing so. For he used to make loans on bottomry and take security, thus accumulating a large fortune.

Early states functioned under entirely different circumstances from modern nation states, which politically and administratively require a capital city. The nature and extent of centralization in ancient societies is much harder to define. A comparative study of two similar geographical entities, such as islands, can shed light on the diverse and complex relationships between ancient polities and central places. Scholars have, at times, assigned capital cities to the Late Bronze Age island cultures of Crete and Cyprus – namely Knossos and Enkomi respectively. Differences in these cultures and settlements notwithstanding, this paper seeks to explore the multi-layered and diverse nature of past and present interpretations through a comparative approach. It is argued that we need to acknowledge the roles that recent politics and archaeological practices have had on previous and current narratives of the past. The often-troubled transformations undergone by modern nation states, and the expectation that such entities possess capitals, have coloured previous interpretations of the past more than is generally recognized. The categories constructed and models applied have guided our approaches but they have also imposed potentially anachronistic frameworks. This paper seeks further historical depth, and to better understand the complex and varied roles ancient central places had in their wider context.

The female readership of the Ars amatoria has been for two millennia a subject fraught with problems both historical and theoretical. For example: in antiquity, did respectable women read the poem? Almost certainly, and they were almost certainly expected to. Were they intended to? Here less certainty is possible, not only because of the problem of divining authorial intention. Did non-respectable women, the real life analogues to the poem's fictive courtesans, read the Ars? Some of them – the elite ones – must have, but lower-level courtesans would have had less opportunity to acquire copies of the poem. On the textual, rather than historical, level, other questions remain, most of them unanswerable, such as the sincerity of the poem's disclaimers to matronae, the No-Wives-Allowed signs. The deliberate textual confusion between matrona and meretrix in Ars 3 blurs clear distinctions and makes it impossible to tell if the praeceptor Amoris anticipates or seeks respectable, elite women, in addition to his declared readers, the courtesans.

Scholars disagree over why Plato's Clitophon ends without any response to Clitophon's criticisms of Socratic method. A close examination of the characterisation of Clitophon provides a potential answer. During the course of his speech, Clitophon shows himself to have misunderstood Socrates, in terms both of method and teaching. The manner in which he reports Socratic conversations suggests that he is more interested in Socrates' personal authority than in entering into productive dialogue. Clitophon represents the kind of young man who wants Socrates to tell him what to think and who will go elsewhere if Socrates will not answer this desire. Socrates remains silent in the face of Clitophon's criticisms because Clitophon has offered no thoughts of his own and, this being the case, there is no possibility of making elenctic progress.

For archaeologists discussion of style is unavoidable. Within classical archaeology ‘style’ is closely associated with connoisseurship as practised by J. D. Beazley. Style identifies individuals, artistic personalities such as the Amasis Painter. This notion of style necessarily overlaps with another debate within both anthropology and prehistoric archaeology (personhood) which also touches on an older discussion within classical studies. These two debates have remained strangers to each other. The article explores these issues in relation to the iconography of hares and arming scenes. Notions of personhood and agency force us to re-evaluate such iconography and its effectiveness as narrative.

While the Latin technical writers have been, and continue to be, studied by historians of the relevant discipline, scant attention has been devoted by linguists to their technical language. If they have interested philologists and linguists at all, then until recently it was as writers of popular, or ‘vulgar’, Latin, rather than of ‘technical’ Latin. This neglect of Latin technical languages as varieties in their own right reflects a wider reluctance to take technical languages into account in other areas of linguistics. There is a substantial literature devoted to technical languages in isolation, especially to the practical problems of communication in technical contexts, of teaching, translating and standardising technical languages, but coherent treatment of technical words and technical languages in the context of the lexicon or the language as a whole is almost entirely lacking in the standard works on word-formation and semantics.

My aim in this paper is to examine the general conception and the detailed problems in Aristotle's comments in the S.E. on how to organise the handling of false refutations. The influence of Aristotle's work in this area has been immense, as C. L. Hamblin has recently shown: the discussions of fallacious and illicit reasoning in books of logic down the centuries are dominated by the aim of adhering to what their authors conceive to be Aristotle's divisions of the subject. Even after the logical and metaphysical bases on which the Aristotelian treatment rests had been abandoned, logicians persisted with a codification of fallacies the very purpose of which had become obscure. Hamblin has well exposed the distortions to which the servile but misconceived tradition has subjected Aristotle's insights. Now that modern developments in formal logic enable us to appreciate that Aristotle's syllogistic occupies a small, albeit paradigmatic, part of the calculus of relations, we are better placed to understand the character of the non-syllogistic areas of his logical work. At the same time there has been a growth in the historical understanding of Aristotle's dialectic. So the way should lie open to a better appreciation of Aristotle's conception of errors in argument, and to a clearer grasp of the actual phenomenon.

A mock theogony from Cratinus' Chirones seems straightforward and uncomplicated evidence of the jibes of the comic poets against Pericles. The source for this fragment, Plutarch's Life of Pericles, chapter 3, in fact connects it with the usual sallies of the archaia about the shape of Pericles' head. Yet, the fragment equally reflects the presence of contemporary opposition in Periclean Athens against the statesman. Plutarch simply covers the density of its allusion, which is something beyond the comic resource of attacking marked peculiarities of appearance of politically prominent individuals: the Homeric-style hapaxκεΦαληγερέταν alludes to the deformity of Pericles' head but also to his demagogic ability to assemble the masses in the so-called ‘language of the gods’.

Many questions are, however, posed when we attempt to account for the allegories or the analogies the passage establishes. As Hanow wondered back in 1830: verum quidΧρόνος πρεσβυγενήςad Periclem faciat, non reperio; quamquam certam quandam rem a Cratino spectatam arbitror. The main purpose of this paper, therefore, is to examine the fragment afresh, in the hope of showing that the source for the parody of this piece of Cratinus may be traced elsewhere than so far suggested, and that there is good reason for Stasis and Chronus fathering this sinister infant.

The Eclogues are universally regarded as a highly structured literary artefact, and some scholars believe that Virgil's summa manus modified the contents of individual poems at the book's final stage to achieve balance and symmetry. Whether or not such modification took place, the pattern of addressees/honorands in the collection – where they exist – ought to have some significance. The following table sets them out:

1. 1. deus (7) = iuuenem (42), usually identified as Octavian

2. 2. None

3. 3. C. Asinius Pollio (84–9)

4. 4. C. Asinius Pollio (esp. 11–14)

5. 5. None

6. 6. P. Alfenus Varus (6–7); C. Cornelius Gallus (64–73)

7. 7. None

8. 8. tu (6–13), often identified as C. Asinius Pollio, but by some as Octavian

9. 9. P. Alfenus Varus (26–9); L. Varius Rufus and C. Helvius Cinna (35–6); (?)‘Caesar’ (cf. Dionaei … Caesaris astrum, 47–9)

10. 10. C. Cornelius Gallus (passim)