It has long been known that two medieval scholiasts, one of them called John of Sicily, the other anonymous, commenting on a passage of Hermogenes' , ascribe what looks like a passage of the de Sublimitate to ‘Longinus’. On the assumption, however, that the ‘Longinus’ referred to must be Cassius Longinus, the third-century rhetorician, scholars have tended to minimize the vweight of the evidence and attempted to explain it away. For it is now established that the de Sublimitate must date from the first century A.D. Yet, apart from the identity of ‘Longinus’, the evidence of the scholiasts looks clear and specific.

1. Introduction. Sources of difficulty in the investigation.–II. Dr. Monro′s pitch theory. The passage in Heraclides. Supplementary evidence from the Problems.–III. Prof. Macran′s theory. Evidence against this theory. Prof. Macran′s answer to this evidence. Further objections. Criticism of the evidence in favour of Prof. Macran′s theory.–IV. Prof. Cook-Wilson′s theory. Platonic and Aristotelian evidence against Dr. Monro. Objections to this theory.–V. Recapitulation. Statement of the antinomies in the evidence.–VI. Conclusion. The nucleus of certainty. The Greek, as contrasted with the modern, musical sense.

In speaking of Demosthenes' conduct in the period between his return to Athens after the peace agreement with Macedon (late 338 B.C.) and Philip's death (July 336) Aeschines refers to only one specific incident, the attempt by Demosthenes to have himself elected What this position was has never been satisfactorily explained.

If the Bucolics as a whole ‘ look on us with dark enigmatical eyes,’ for long no more impenetrable darkness and no more compelling enigma could be found than that of the fourth poem in the collection. But Skutsch, the authors of Virgil's Messianic Eclogue, and more recently Mr. Royds in his Virgil and Isaiah, have done much to solve its many mysteries. Their efforts, however, were mainly directed towards the problems of fact contained in the Eclogue, and so far little attention seems to have been given to an equally interesting point, that of its metrical arrangement. It is plain that we must consult the Sibyll for help: if it is not plain, that is not Virgil's fault. I hope to be able to show here that Virgil himself has left in this poem certain unmistakeable signs for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear, besides his own rather casual reference to the Cumaeum carmen, and incidentally to dispose anew of the theory which reads in that expression an allusion not to the Sibyl but to Hesiod.

This passage is interpreted by all commentators and translators as follows: ‘Or how shall we call it glorious that I went out to fight the hydra and the lion at the command of Eurystheus—and shall I not labour to shield off death from my own children ?’ The purpose of my note1 is to suggest (i) that we have here a very remarkable use of the verb , and (2) that Euripides used it here with a precise and subtle intention

In his illuminating discussion of ‘the Caspian question’ Sir William Tarn, basing his case mainly on Aristotle, Meteorologica, 2. 1. 10 and Strabo, 11. 7. 4, argued that Alexander knew of the existence of the Aral Sea. Tarn's conclusion, however, was soon challenged by Professor Lionel Pearson, who disagreed in particular with Tarn's interpretation of the passage in Strabo. But, although he undoubtedly succeeds in showing that some of Tarn's arguments are not valid, Pearson fails, as it seems to me, to disprove his main contention. Indeed, Pearson misunderstands the line of Strabo's argument and is led to propose an unnecessary emendation of the text.

When Demosthenes brought Aeschines to trial on a charge of malfeasance as an ambassador, he made what seems now the astonishing declaration in connection with Aeschines' acting of the part of Creon in Sophocles' Antigone: ⋯στε γ⋯ρ δ⋯που το⋯θ' ὅτι ⋯ν ἅπασι τοῖς δρ⋯μασι τοῖς τραγικοῖς ⋯ξα⋯ρετ⋯ν ⋯στιν ὥσπερ γ⋯ρας τοῖς τριταγωνισ ταῖς τὺ τοὺς τυρ⋯ννους κα⋯ τοὺς τ⋯ σκ⋯πτρ' ἔχοντας εἰσι⋯ναι. Until the last generation (and even later) this was taken at face value as indicating that of the three actors presenting a tragedy the third (and least important) was regularly assigned the part of royalty. But that the title rôle in such plays as Sophocles' Oedipus Tyrannus or an important character such as Creon in the Antigone should have been entrusted to the third ranking actor is incredible. How is the discrepancy to be explained?

A good story bears retelling many times, and an appreciative audience will delight in debating its finer points; each participant is – of course – always convinced that only his memory, his understanding, of what the author said is the correct one.

Hamaker's conjecture κομâ (for τολμâ, sic) at Lysias 16.18 was adopted by Rauchenstein in his influential edition of 1869 and soon given powerful endorsement by Jebb and by Shuckburgh. Successive later editors and commentators have seen no reason to demur: Thalheim, Adams, Hude, Gernet and Bizos, Lamb, and finally Edwards and Usher all adopt κομâ, and, where they comment, unanimously cite Aristophanic parallels (especially Eq. 580) in support of a connection between longhaired affectation and ‘oligarchic’ affiliations; some also adduce the expression ảπ’ὂΨεως in justification. But this is an egregious instance of unwarranted tampering with a sound text. τóλμα is a quality conspicuously displayed by Mantitheus, on his own account of his character, words, and actions.

In recent years, the starting-dates of both the Historiae and the Annales of Tacitus have been criticized. In the case of the Historiae, Hainsworth has claimed that Tacitus chose to start his narrative with the events of A.D. 69, because for various reasons the events of A.D. 68 were an embarrassment to him. Syme has suggested, in the case of the Annales, that by starting with the accession of Tiberius, Tacitus has barred himself from a proper understanding of that principate.

In Book 19, chapter 9 of the Nodes Atticae Gellius describes the birthday party of a young Greek of equestrian rank at which a group of professional singers entertained the guests by performing poems by Anacreon, Sappho, ‘et poetarum quoque recentium ⋯λεγεῖα quaedam erotica’ (4). After the singing, Gellius goes on, some of the Greek συμπόται present challenged Roman achievements in erotic poetry, excepting only Catullus and Calvus, and criticized in particular Laevius, Hortensius, Cinna, and Memmius. Rising to meet this charge, Gellius’ teacher of rhetoric, Antonius Julianus, admits the superiority of the Greeks in what he calls ‘cantilenarum mollitiae’ in general (8), but to show that the Romans too have some good erotic poets, he recites four early Latin love epigrams, by Valerius Aedituus (frs. 1 and 2), Porcius Licinus (fr. 6), and Lutatius Catulus (fr. I). The same three poets are listed in the same order in Apuleius’ Apology in a list of amatory poets which he provides in order to establish precedents and thus invalidate his prosecutors’ referral to his erotic poems in their accusation (Apul. Apol. 9). Catulus is also enumerated in Pliny's list of Roman dignitaries who composed ‘uersiculos seueros parum’ like his own (Ep. 5.3.5), and an amatory epigram of his is cited by Cicero in De Natura Deorum 1.79 (fr. 2). We possess no further evidence connecting the other two with the composition of either erotic or, more generally, ‘light’ verse, but a poem by Porcius Licinus on Roman literary history is attested by several sources including Varro, Suetonius, and Gellius himself.

From the Archaic period to the sixth century A.D., as well as in later Byzantine lexica, we find numerous instances of the word TTTJKTIS as the name of a musical instrument. It occurs in some 78 passages:1 enough, one might suppose, to establish its meaning beyond peradventure. Yet of all ancient instrument names, this one proves to be the most Protean. In the earlier sources it designates a harp. Later it is applied to other types of stringed instrument, both to lyres and to lutes. But it does not remain confined to the chordophone category, for in the Imperial period it frequently signifies a panpipe. As no complete collection and analysis of the evidence has ever been made, I have thought it worth while to undertake one.

The Latin word ulpicum is attested thirty-one times. The literary texts in which the term occurs range in date from the second century B.C. to the seventh century A.D. It denotes a plant used in antiquity both as a foodstuff and as an officinal substance in human and animal prescriptions, but discussions of ulpicum in the work of classical scholars show that there is no agreement about its identity. This lack of clarity consequently obfuscates the understanding of the passages in which reference is made to the plant. Furthermore, those students of ancient medicine, botany, and horticulture who depend on translations receive an inaccurate and even misleading impression of the original Latin sources. I propose to demonstrate the present unsatisfactory state both of translations of the term and of efforts by classical scholars to identify the plant, then to review the data supplied by the ancient sources. Following this, I shall suggest that what Latin writers referred to as ulpicum is, in fact, the plant known to modern botanists as Allium ampeloprasum L., ‘great-headed garlic’. Finally, I shall investigate its function in the Roman diet and pharmacopeia.

The two passages in question are I. the discussion of Justice in Bk. V. chs. I-II, and in particular the definition and subdivisions of Corrective Justice (ch. II 1130b 30–1131a 9); and II. the discussion of the voluntaryand προα⋯ρεσɩς in Bk. III chs. II-II. My object is to show that each is better understood if it is seen in the light of contemporary legal ideas and practice.

We can, I think, be certain of one thing only – that when Herodotus wrote these two passages he intended to keep the promises which he was making. In addition it is perhaps reasonable to assume that his account of the capture of Nineveh, which he promises merely would as a decisive event in Assyrian history have been included in the mentioned in 1.184. Even this however must be a mere conjecture, for although Herodotus normally makes promises and keeps them, in these two cases the details promised are nowhere to be found in the Histories as we have them.

‘Some of Martial's shortest epigrams are also the obscurest’, observes P. T. Eden, apropos of 1.102. This two-line poem has certainly generated a remarkable diversity of interpretations. All the critics are agreed that the portrait of Venus owned by the courtesan Lycoris (‘Venerem tuam, Lycori’) is in some way botched or unattractive, but, beyond this, their explanations differ widely.

Among other things, R. O. A. M. Lyne's recent edition and commentary of the Ciris (Cambridge, 1978) has established the general method of composition followed by this pseudo-neoteric poet: he demonstrably lifted wholesale and applied to his own poem words, phrases, lines, and even entire sequences from the works of the neoterics and the poets of the following generation. Accordingly, one of the poem's chief attributes is that it serves as a means for recovering the general content, and at times the actual wording, of earlier, more important poetry. This paper offers some additional areas in the Ciris where such influence may exist. I confine myself to Cinna and Calvus, whose poetry may justly be considered the missing two-thirds of the neoteric movement.

At Aen. 6.562–627 the Sibyl gives Aeneas a description of the criminals in Tartarus and the punishments to which they are condemned. The criminals are presented to us in several groups. The first consists of mythical figures, the Titans (580–1), the sons of Aloeus (582–4), Salmoneus (585–94), Tityos (595–600) and Ixion and Pirithous (601–7). Next Virgil turns away from mythical figures to particular categories of criminal. He mentions those who hated their brothers, who assaulted a parent, who cheated a cliens, who gloated over wealth they had acquired without setting aside a part for their family, who were put to death for adultery, and those who, breaking their masters' (‘dominorum’, 613) trust, made war on their country (608–14). The reference to the contemporary scene is unmistakable. The mention of a cliens (609) indicates that we have moved from Greece to Rome. Moreover, ‘quique ob adulterium caesi’ (612) brings to mind Augustus' concern over moral standards, the subject of legislation in 28 B.c., 18 B.c. and A.d. 9; the lex Iulia de adulteriis coercendis (18 B.c., but no doubt in the air for some time previously) gave to fathers of adulteresses the right to put to death both guilty parties. Thirdly, ‘arma...impia’ (612–13) is an obvious reference to civil war (cf. Geo. 1.511–14; Aen. 1.294–6), which as Servius argues is more narrowly defined by ‘nee veriti dominorum fallere dextras’ (613) so as to exclude Caesar and Octavian: undoubtedly the allusion is to the war against Sextus Pompeius, which Augustan propaganda chose to represent as a war against runaway slaves. Virgil continues by sketching the penalties paid in Tartarus by such men (614–17). While doing so, however, he retreats once again into the realm of mythology: the punishments he describes are those more normally associated with Sisyphus and Ixion (rolling a stone uphill, suspension on a wheel). This reversion is completed at 617–20 where, confusingly, Virgil denies that he has been alluding to events of contemporary significance by naming two mythical personages, Theseus and Phlegyas (the father of Ixion). Virgil therefore implies, but then denies, contemporary relevance. It is this kind of protean elusiveness (most marked, perhaps, in the Eclogues) which makes the contemporary allusions in Virgil so difficult to pin down.

About the extent of the trouble and the suitability of the remedies that have been advanced, there have been some differences of opinion; everyone, however, has recognized that there is something amiss in the lines 984–6. At the very least few would deny these difficulties:

(1) ξυνεμβ⋯λοιс is suspect.

(2) ψαμμ⋯αс must be regarded as seriously corrupt.

(3) χρ⋯νοс … παρ⋯βηсεν must be emended as a whole so that either the indispensable constituents of two complete clauses appear or ⋯πε⋯ disappears.

(4) ψαμμ⋯αс ⋯κ⋯τα παρ⋯ and εὔχομαι δ᾽ ⋯ξ ⋯μ⋯с (998) must be brought into metrical correspondence.

Ever since Proclus wrote his commentary on Plato's Republic, repeated attempts have been made to find a hidden number of cosmic significance in Rep. 8.546. For the Neo-Platonist it was natural to look for esoteric secrets in ancient works; among the men of the New Learning at the end of the Middle Ages there were enough astrologers and necromancers to ensure respect for the proposition; we are now again enamoured of irrationality. But the scholars who attempted such calculations around 1900 must have considered Plato himself a mystery-monger.

In this article I propose: (i) to show why such attempts are mistaken, (ii) to discuss what early writers who mention the passage say about its meaning, (iii) to provide a mathematician's translation that fits the context, and to comment on it; for the currently accepted explanation is unsatisfactory.

‘There is fairly widespread agreement that the geometrical number is 12,960,000 = 3,6002 = 4,800 × 2,700, but on the method by which this number is reached the widest divergence exists’ or, from an earlier, different guess: ‘…one can, so to speak, state a priori that Plato's number is a multiple of 19 ten thousands’, i.e. the text is approached with a ready-made answer in mind. There are three further objections to the conventional view, (a) It takes the text out of its context as if it had strayed from the Timaeus.