Every Greek scholar knows the celebrated lapsus linguae committed by the tragic actor Hegelochus at the Great Dionysia of 408 B.C., when he faltered in his enunciation of line 279 of Euripides' Orestes and gave the impression to the mirthful audience of having said I am surprised, however, that the commentators on this line (and on Ar. Ran. 303, the most notable of the references in the comic poets to Hegelochus' lapse) have only partially explained the reason for its having seemed exceptonally funny.

In his treatment of Marius in the Bellum Jugurthinum Sallust lays considerable stress on fortune2 and Marius' belief in divine assistance. I shall offer an analysis of these concepts in two sections: (I) their use by Sallust himself in relation to Marius; (2) their use in the earlier tradition about Marius.

I. Though he is frequently mentioned in the earlier chapters of the B.J., our first formal introduction to Marius is in chapter 63. This chapter is of crucial importance. For it is the response given by the haruspex to Marius when he chances (forte) to be making a sacrifice at Utica that prompts him to ask for leave to go and stand for the consulship, an office for which he has an ingens cupido. Because of the aristocratic superbia of his commander Metellus he is ‘snubbed’ by him and thenceforth ‘cupidine atque ira grassari; neque facto ullo neque dicto abstinere quod modo ambitiosum foret' (64. 5).

It is arguable that the student of the deductions which make up the second part of Plato's Parmenides is today better placed than any of his predecessors, save Aristotle, Speusippus, and other immediate associates of Plato, to understand and evaluate those forbidding pages. Ways of looking at and handling the matter of the text are available to him which were not open to those who lived before the rise of critical philological scholarship in Europe in the last century, and of analytical philosophy in the English-speaking world in this. He has to hand, too, some pioneering work on the dialogue of recent date.

We will now consider the most obvious parallels to our text in the papyri.

(I) and (2) Berl. Kl. Texte V. 20 A and B (P 9772, 9773). Both second century B.C. Both deal with the subject of women and marriage. In both the citations are arranged to present opposite views on the subject. In A citations 1–6 (and perhaps 7–9) denounce women and marriage, while 10–13 defend them; in B 1–4 defend women, while the subject of the remaining excerpts is indicated by the heading . Compare Stob. Flor. §§ 67–74, where several chapters are devoted to what was treated here in one subdivided chapter.

When the theory of Forms was first developed by Plato, it was the final stage of a series of philosophical investigations which began with Socrates' search for definitions. The Form was regarded as a ‘one over many’ that is separate from particulars. It is by their participation in the perfect Form that the particulars derive their transitory existence. There is a Form, according to the Republic (596 a 5–7) corresponding to every set of things that have a common name. There are Forms of moral qualities, mathematical entities, and material objects. In the Parmenides Socrates admits that he is in doubt whether there are Forms of Man, Fire, and Water (130 c), but by the time of the Timaeus (51 b) Plato has no doubts about Forms of the four elements, and in the Philebus (15 a) he accepted a Form of Man also. This fact is well known to Aristotle, who speaks of Man as a typical Form at E.N. 1096b1. Finally, we may add that regress arguments, such as that about the Form of Largeness at Parmenides 132 ab, were generally referred to in antiquity as Third Man arguments—arguments, that is, which used the Form of Man as a paradigm for Forms in general.

Plato makes explicit references to Corybantic rites in six of his dialogues, spanning from the so-called early Crito to the later Laws. In all but one of these an analogy is established between aspects of the Corybantic rites and some kind of λόγος: the words of the poets in the Ion, Lysias' speech in the Phaedrus, and the arguments of Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, the personified Laws and Socrates in the Euthydemus, Crito and Symposium respectively. Plato's use of Corybantic analogies is thus quite extensive. Indeed, according to Ivan M. Linforth, whose 1946 article is still the most rigorous treatment of our sources on Corybantic rites in classical Athens, Plato is our ‘principal witness concerning Corybantic rites and their function’.

The distribution of the parts among the actors in the O.C. is a problem that has long defied solution. In all the other extant plays of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides the dramatis personae can without difficulty be divided between three actors: but the construction of the O.C. is so complex that it does not admit any such simple allocation. When the part of Oedipus (1–1555) has been assigned to the first actor, and that of Antigone (1–847, 1099–555, 1670–end) to the second, the roles of the Stranger (36–80), Ismene (324–509, 1099–555 mute, 1670–end), Creon (728–1043), and Polyneices (1254–446) must clearly belong to the third: who, then, is to play Theseus (551–667, 887–1043, 1099–210, 1500–55, 1751–end)? It seems impossible to allot the part complete to any one of the three actors. Faced by this crux, all those who have dealt with the subject have chosen one or the other of two clear-cut alternatives, either the assumption of a fourth regular actor, or else the splitting-up of the single part of Theseus between two or three actors. These two alternatives, both of which are far from satisfactory—the former infringing the three-actor rule, the latter offending against scenic probability and realism—are fully examined below; at the end of the paper a new part-distribution is suggested, which, it is hoped, avoids both these faults.

A re-examination of the anonymous Commentary on the Theaetetus, henceforth abbreviated K, is overdue. It may yet prove to be the most important document we possess for plotting the course of pre-Plotinian Platonism, and is by far the largest surviving portion of a pre-Plotinian commentary on a complete work of Plato. It offers us insights into the issues of the first century B.C. which are unparalleled in other extant Middle Platonist works, either because of the subject of the work and its consequent tendency to bring to mind the epistemological debates between Philo of Larissa, Antiochus of Ascalon, and Aenesidemus, or because the author, whom we may call A, is writing at a time comparatively close to those debates.

Everyone knows the statement of Servius that Virgil was compelled by Augustus to alter the second half of the Fourth Georgic after the fall of Gallus, and that he substituted the story of Aristaeus for the laudes Galli. This statement, often doubted by older generations, has had such a remarkable success in recent years that anyone who ventures to impugn it must feel that he is pleading with a halter round his neck before a one-sided jury. It is notable, however, that these jurors, though one-sided, are by no means united, save in their determination to uphold the credit of Servius. One group will assure us that the episode of Aristaeus shows obvious signs not only of haste but of immaturity, and they draw a pathetic picture of the grief-stricken Virgil, ordered to bring out a second edition minus the praises of his friend Gallus, and half-heartedly throwing together some bits of juvenile stuff which he happened to have handy. Others assure us that the tale of Aristaeus shows us a more mature Virgil, nearer to the Virgil of the Aeneid. But the Servians really cannot have it both ways. They must make up their minds in the one direction or in the other if they are to be taken seriously. They make it doubly difficult for us to take them seriously when they try to tell us what Servius meant—but of that more anon. The present paper is an attempt by a converted Servian to examine frankly the arguments which have been advanced in support of Servius. Most of these may be found in Skutsch, Aus Vergils Frühzeit, pp. 140–147. One is very reluctant to use disparaging words about an eminent scholar who has served the cause of learning in so many ways; but it can scarcely be denied that the work just mentioned, in spite of its ingenuity and enthusiasm, shows a lamentable lack of three great essentials—a judicial temper, accurate statement of facts, and cogent reasoning. There is also at times a regrettable vagueness of expression, suggesting that the author is concealing inward doubts or shrinking from thought. All these deficiencies are to some extent present in the section with which this paper is concerned.

The concept of an ‘art of love’ has been popularised for all time by the naughty masterpiece of Ovid. A good deal of critical attention has been devoted to this work in recent times, including some to his possible sources, but under this latter rubric attention has chiefly been directed rather to his parody of more serious types of handbook, such as an ars medica, an ars grammatica, or an ars rhetorica, than to the possibility of his having predecessors in the actual ‘art’ of love.

Presocratic philosophy, for all its diverse features, is united by the quest to understand the origin and nature of the world. The approach of the Pythagoreans to this quest is governed by their belief, probably based on studies of the numerical relations in musical harmony, that number or numerical structure plays a key role for explaining the world-order, the cosmos. It remains questionable to what extent the Pythagoreans, by positing number as an all-powerful explanatory concept, broke free from Presocratic ideas that certain stuffs or material elements sufficed to account for the source (⋯ρχ⋯) and constitution of the world, but apparently number found such a universal application with them that Aristotle could summarize the Pythagorean position as ‘numbers…are the whole universe’ (Met. 986a21). Historians of Greek philosophy have generally accepted Aristotle's assessment. Of late, however, certain scholars have argued that the Pythagorean number doctrine is Aristotelian (mis-) interpretation, unjustly foisted upon the Pythagoreans. Enlisted in support of their arguments are the fragments of Philolaus of Croton. Here we have the foremost representative of fifth-century Pythagoreanism, who states as his basic principles, not numbers exactly, but ‘limiters’ and ‘unlimiteds’, and who, it is argued, regards number solely as an epistemological aid for understanding the structure of reality. So Philolaus is called upon as a witness against Aristotle. The rationale goes something like this: Aristotle most likely had written sources for his knowledge of Pythagorean teachings; the only texts we know of with any certainty are Philolaus' book and the writings of Archytas; since Aristotle treats Archytas separately, he is mainly relying on Philolaus; because Philolaus does not expressly state that things are numbers, Aristotle's interpretation is wrong.

The object of this paper is to question the established view that the orator M. Calidius was an Atticist. I propose to argue (i) that the term ‘Atticist’ should be reserved for the coterie centring on Calvus, which attacked Cicero, and was attacked by him in Brutus and Orator, and (ii) that our evidence for the oratory of Calidius does not warrant the inference that he was in any way associated with, or a forerunner of, that coterie.

As is well known, the Amores of Ovid appeared in two different editions, of which only the second survives. Hence, scholars being what they are, it is hardly surprising that almost as much has been written about the first as the second. If I have ventured to add yet another contribution to the already over-long bibliography of the subject

It has commonly been assumed that the work of four books by Moeragenes on Apollonius of Tyana, to which Philostratus refers disparagingly when discussing the source material for his own work, represented a viewpoint hostile to the sage, and was for this reason discarded by Philostratus. Hand in hand with this assumption has gone the view that Moeragenes presented Apollonius as an undesirable μγος, a wizard and sorcerer, or even a charlatan pretending to be a μγος. These views have recently been challenged by E. L. Bowie, who rejects both, arguing not only that Moeragenes was favourable to Apollnius, but also that he presented him as an intellectual philosopher, a figure instantly recognisable from Philostratus' account. This leaves Bowie in some difficulty when he attempts to explain Philostratus' strong disapproval of Moeragenes' work. His only suggestion is that ‘the main reason for Philostratus’ hostile attitude is clearly the usual ground for ancient polemic: Moeragenes' was the standard work when he wrote'. In this paper I propose to argue, on the basis of a re-examination of the available evidence, that there was a considerable divergence between Philostratus' and Moeragenes' views of Apollonius, and that this offers a more substantial and satisfactory explanation of the later author's disapproval of his predecessor.

In 1957, Edgar Lobel published an Oxyrhynchus papyrus (P. Oxy. 2390) containing anonymous commentaries to poems of Alcman which has not ceased to fascinate philologists and historians of ancient philosophy.

At the end of Book 15 of his Res Gestae Ammianus Marcellinus reports how Strategius Musonianus became the successor of the murdered Domitianus as Praefectus Praetorio Orientis (PPO). He tells that Strategius was a man versed in the two languages, i.e. Greek and Latin, and that because of this he had won a higher distinction than was expected. When Constantine the Great, so says Ammianus, was looking for an expert interpreter for his investigation into the Manichaean and similar heresies, he chose Strategius as a person recommended to him as competent. Constantine was so pleased with Strategius' skilful work that he gave him the honourable nickname Musonianus, which became his official name. This assignment was the start of a great career which eventually led to his denomination as PPO under Constantius II.

The story of Meleager as it is told in Greek literature clearly reflects two discrete versions, which may be termed the epic and the non-epic. The latter, as retold by Apollodorus(Bibl. 1.8.1–3), shows the folktale elements of love and the life-token (the brand which must not be rekindled). The other version, as told by Homer(Iliad 9.524-99) followed by Apollodorus (1.8.3), is an epic story where Meleager is the great hero whose μῆνις keeps him from fighting for his native Calydon against the neighbouring Curetes of Pleuron.