The hymns of Callimachus are generally divided into two groups: the ‘mimetic’ hymns (2, 5 and 6), which seem to be enactments of ritual scenes, and the ‘nonmimetic’ hymns (1,3 and 4), which seem to follow the pattern of the Homeric hymns. Occasionally this distinction has been challenged, for instance by pointing to an' element of mimesis in H. 1, but on the whole the division into two groups has been 1 adhered to rather rigidly. A drawback of this distinction is that it seems to prevent further insight into an important aspect of Callimachus' poetic technique. I think that there is in fact a subtle play with various aspects of diegesis and mimesis which pervades the whole collection of hymns and gives it a certain unity, because it draws attention to the way in which narratives or descriptions are presented in the hymns. Although the emphasis on mimesis or diegesis may vary, none of the hymns can be regarded as diegetic in all its aspects and there is a great deal of fluctuation between, the two modes of presentation both within the collection and within the individual hymns.

Professor Vlastos argues that Socratic irony was responsible for a momentous change in the way in which irony was understood in ancient times. Before Socrates, he argues, irony is connected with lying and deceit, but after Socrates it is associated with wit and urbanity. Vlastos claims that Socratic irony is distinctive and complex. According to Vlastos, Socratic irony involves no hint of deception; it consists simply in saying something which when understood in one way is false, but when understood in another way is true.

In his note on lines 27–8 Luck gives two Ovidian parallels for conversation outlasting the day, P. 2.4.11–12 and P. 2.10.37–8, but he makes no reference to lines 2–3 of Callimachus' epigram on Heraclitus of Halicarnassus (Epigr. 2[Pf.] = A.P. 7.80)

The Pompeius Macer whom prosopographers have discerned among the friends of Ovid boasts connections as stellar as anyone in Ovid's ambit. His induction into the Roman establishment was preceded by the achievements of his father (or possibly grandfather) Theophanes of Mytilene, who for two decades had been one of Pompey's closest confidants. Macer himself served Augustus first as equestrian procurator of Asia and then as director of state libraries in Rome, and when the phil-Hellene Tiberius replaced Augustus, his position at court grew firmer still. He lived to see his son gain a seat in the Roman senate, to become the first known senator of Greek origin. And while tending to his political career, he made a name for himself in Roman literary circles and maintained a long-lasting friendship with Ovid.

Scholarly opinion about Ptolemy Soter's history of Alexander has been far from unanimous. Not long ago Ptolemy was held to stand in the first rank of ancient historians. His history was described as brilliant, rational, straightforward, and exhaustive, while he himself was proclaimed a ‘second Thucydides’. In recent years, however, Ptolemy's reputation has seriously declined. His shortcomings, acknowledged also by his admirers, have been stressed and extensively analysed. Fritz Schachermeyr clearly reflected current opinion when he equated a ‘version from the Hauptquartier's circles’ with a lie, a fraud, and an intentional omission. The purpose of this paper is to examine the recent reassessment of the nature and the aims of Ptolemy's work.

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.

The locus classicus for Plutarch's own views on his methods is in the Alexander He has begun by asking for the indulgence of his readers if they do not find all the exploits of Alexander and Caesar recounted by the biographer or if they discover him not reporting some famous incident in detail (); and he goes on to compare his own search for evidence which will indicate the kind of soul, with the activity of the painter, who, in order to create a likeness, concentrates on the eyes and pays little attention to the other parts. Commentators and critics have been right to take this as a key text for the purpose of understanding Plutarch's attitude towards his biographical work; nevertheless there are other passages in the Lives where we can at least glimpse his attitude to his subject, and we can only see the Alexander-remarks in correct perspective if we take these other passages into account. I propose therefore, starting with the Alexander, to see how far these critical remarks apply to Plutarch's theory and practice elsewhere in the Lives

At some time during the years 398–395 B.C. the people of Rhodes revolted against Sparta, freed themselves from the oppression of the Spartan empire and admitted to their city the Persian fleet commanded by Conon, the Athenian. This fact was overlooked by Xenophon, but reported by Diodorus (14. 79. 6) and Pausanias (6. 7. 6) who quotes Androtion. It seemed, before the discovery of the Hellenica Oxyrhynchia, that the revolt of Rhodes from Sparta was in some way associated with internal party strife, for Xenophon relates that exiled Rhodian oligarchs appealed to Sparta for help in 391 B.C. Such an interrelation between internal politics and foreign policy had, of course, been a feature of Greek political life since the early years of the Peloponnesian War, as Thucydides was not slow to recognize. The discovery of the Hellenica Oxyrhynchia, which devotes a chapter to a democratic revolution at Rhodes in 395 B.C, provided a good deal of new information on the political situation in that city, notably that, contrary to what we might have expected, the revolt from Sparta and the democratic revolution were not contemporaneous. Let us review briefly the details of these two events as far as our information permits.

Hesiod is among the most difficult Greek poets for problems of text. This is especially true in the case of the Theogony. Today we consider an over-scrupulous analysis of the logical consistency of a text a characteristic of nineteenth-century pedantry. Yet such latitude is not always allowed the Theogony. It was only twenty-five years ago that there appeared the most ruthless survey of its contents. This was Jacoby's edition of 1930, when only a mutilated remnant of the surviving text was left the original poet; the rest was added by a whole series of subsequent rhapsodes. Hesiod received very much the same treatment four years later from Schwenn. Recently, however, two developments have gone a long way towards the defence of passages excluded by scholars from what they think the authentic text of Hesiod's Theogony. Many single lines or groups of verses have been bracketed by the editors of Hesiod, since they reproduce some other part of the poem in a similar or even identical form. The researches of the Dutch scholar Otterlo have now revealed that the fault is rather that of these editors. When they stigmatize the passages with the description of aimless repetition, they fail to appreciate what Otterlo claims as an inherent principle of oral recitation, or literature derived from an oral prototype. Otterlo's term for what would be an essential feature of this literature is ring-composition. A rhapsode provides a loose unity for his poem by repeating at the conclusion to the sections of the poem the verses which also introduced them. These repetitive verses announce the beginning and then the end of each section. We are wrong if we think that they have only been transferred from their original place in the poem to some later passage because there has been a lack of proper care in the process of transmission. Certainly this repetition is no adequate reason for us to suppose their occurence a second time in our text spurious.

There are two passages in which the poet introduces a full moon to accentuate a particular aspect of a scene in his narrative; 1.1228–33 and 4.166–71. I shall concentrate on the second. Commentators have contributed various suggestions but failed to understand the specific erotic-nuptial connotation of the full moon. The same applies to the more specialized contributions of Drogemiiller and Rose. I shall (1) first present the evidence for the nuptial associations of the full moon, then (2) apply this idea to the Apollonian passages, especially 4.166–71, and finally (3) add a remark about the special effect obtained by Apollonius here in relation to an Homeric passage (Od. 23.231–9).

The great number of contradictory statements which confront us when we examine the various explanations of Anaxagoras' philosophy make it more than usually important to decide what is to be admitted as first-hand evidence and what is not. I purpose, then, to begin by accepting the barest minimum of data, and I shall try to exclude any direct comments upon Anaxagoras' work by later writers. Sufficient justification for such a course may be found in the bewildering masses of confusion which have gathered around his teaching.

‘Alcman lived sometime in the seventh century.’

‘At some period in the seventh century Sparta was occupied with the Second Messenian War, but we do not know its date or whether Alcman lived before or during or after it.’

Between these two utterances, part of a papyrus commentary on Alcman was published,3 from which it appeared that the poet mentioned names known to us from the Spartan king-lists. It might have been expected that this discovery would lead to a more precise dating for Alcman. Some people think, that in fact it does, and I am one of them.

Greek tragedy shows a serious preoccupation with family concerns. Some of these concerns seem beyond the scope of ordinary family experience, particularly in the matter of the behaviour of women. The apparent discrepancy between historical evidence and the literary presentation of women has long been noted and variously explained. I want to suggest that this discrepancy reflects a way of distinguishing between the objectives and behaviour of the great aristocratic clans and of those families which were neither so wealthy nor so politically influential. A dichotomy is thus presented between dynastic interests and the interests of the ordinary family as a well-regulated part of the Athenian city state.

In the period between Constantine's reunification of the Empire in 324 and the deposition of Romulus Augustulus in 476 M. Valerius Probus enjoyed a large reputation as master of all areas of the ars grammatica. The commentary on Terence attributed to Donatus and the commentary of Servius on Virgil cite him more often than they do any other ancient authority. His fame persisted through the Dark Ages. Eugenius of Toledo set him with Varius and Tucca against Aristarchus, the greatest of the Alexandrian students of Homer. Modern writers on the history of Roman scholarship have estimated in widely different ways his quality as a textual critic, the level of his reputation during the century after his death and the influence which his activities had on the transmission of the Latin classics. That he ‘annotated’ at least some of these in the manner of an Aristarchus is not in dispute, but everything about the nature of his ‘annotation’ is. This paper will treat afresh a famous statement about Probus in Suetonius' De grammaticis (24. 3), two lists of notae associated with Probus’ name in a late eighth-century manuscript from Monte Cassino, cod. Paris, Bibl. Nat. lat. 7530 (CLA v 569), two references to such notae which have been detected in Virgilian scholia (Serv. Aen. 10. 444 and Serv. Dan. Aen. 1. 21) and a number of statements in these scholia which appear to give Probus’ reasons for affixing notae. The results of my study are largely negative but may help to control general discussion of the history of a number of Latin texts.

In two recent studies we have examined the prose rhythms in the clausulae of late imperial Latin authors. We found two clausular systems to be prevalent, the cursus and the cursus mixtus. The cursus involves the use of accentual rhythms and consists of three basic cadences: planus, tardus, and velox. The cursus mixtus has been defined by modern scholars as a type of prose rhythm in which the clausula is structured along both accentual and metrical lines, that is by the combination of one of the three forms of the cursus with one of the standard metrical forms derived from Cicero's system — cretic-spondee, dicretic, cretic-tribrach, or ditrochee.