It is well known from the sources that three Athenian factions were organized after Solon's reforms. Herodotus writes as follows:

In the course of time there was a feud between the Athenians of the coast under Megacles son of Alcmeon and the Athenians of the plain under Lycurgus son of Aristolaides. Pisistratus then, having an eye to the sovereign power, raised up a third faction. He collected partisans and pretended to champion the hillmen (συλλέξαՏ δ­ σταƣώταՏ ĸαì τѽ λóγω τѽν ύπεραĸρíων προστάЅ). (Her. 1.59, trans. A.D. Godley [Loeb])

Few things can be more confusing, or confused, than the ancient reports about Empedocles' astronomy. Attempts in the modern literature at resolving the difficulties invariably either add to the confusion, or end by urging the need to ‘acknowledge the insufficiency of our data and suspend judgment’. In fact, as we will see, it is possible not only to reconstruct Empedocles' own ideas but also to retrace the history of their subsequent misunderstanding.

The later MSS. of the Metamorphoses of Apuleius have received little attention. Hildebrand's edition, the last to give an extensive apparatus criticus, appeared in 1842, and seven years later Keil announced his belief that all the MSS. which he had seen in Italy were derived from Laur. 68. 2 (F), the famous eleventh century MS., written at Monte Cassino, and now at Florence. Since Keil, all texts have been based almost exclusively on F, with assistance from its twelfth or thirteenth century copy Laur. 29. 2 (φ), in the enormous number of places where F is now illegible.

THE object of this note is to draw attention to a suggestion made by the late Professor F. M. Cornford, in the course of a paper read to the Oxford Philological Society some years ago,

The speeches of Nicias and Alcibiades in the debate leading up to the launching of the Sicilian expedition (Thuc. 6.9–14, 6.20–3, 6.16–18) contain a significant number of words, phrases, and themes that recur in Thucydides' later chapters reporting the launching of the expedition and its ultimate fate in Sicily. The verbal and thematic echoes often consist of words of sight and hearing; among the recurring themes are rivalry and competition, the contrast between public and private expenditures, and the desire for acquisition and financial profit.

One of the gains to be reckoned from the study of nomenclature in the sepulchral inscriptions of the early empire is the gradual abandonment of attempts to distinguish between slave and freeborn on the basis of personal name or cognomen alone, especially when this is of Latin derivation. Nevertheless, one still finds personal cognomina in undated inscriptions adduced as sole evidence for the origin or status of individuals below senatorial rank. Thus in a standard work on freedmen in the early empire, recently reprinted, names such as Agilis, Amandus, Auctus, Communis, Donatus, Faustus, Felix, etc., are said to be commonly servile, but others such as Aquila, Bassus, Capito, Cams, Celer, Crescens, etc., are taken as ingenuous. The criteria used in making such a distinction are subjective and arbitrary and the statistics based on them are largely valueless. It is the purpose of this note to consider briefly on this question the evidence of the personal nomenclature of the Imperial slaves and freedmen. In this group, the Familia Caesaris, no problem of status arises, and the fact that the majority of their inscriptions can be dated, at least approximately, makes it possible to trace the chronological development of the use of cognomina ingenua by one important group of servile origin from the first to the early third century A.D. Moreover, such a development is useful evidence for change in the social structure of the early empire.

FOR hundreds or even thousands of years posterity saw in Aristotle only the impersonal intellectual majesty of the philosophical system. When awakening humanism began everywhere to seek in the works of the classic writers the impress of their personality, this new interest met in Aristotle with the most stubborn resistance. His was a very different case from that of Plato or Demosthenes. The few notices preserved of his life and person remained in merely external relation to the body of his works. In recent times we have begun, however, to discern the intellectual history of the man Aristotle, and in this regard his relations to Plato naturally acquire special significance. In the various phases of his life these relations took various forms; but in view of late gossip about the pupil's ingratitude to the master, it is as well to say that never was Aristotle^s attitude to Plato other than one of the deepest possible veneration. It has a special psychological fascination to see how this veneration expressed itself at the time when Aristotle found himself committed to philosophical opposition to his master; and it is significant that the only documentary proofs of Aristotle's attitude that we possess belong to these years. Evidently his veneration found this compensating expression when he was forced to publish his philosophical critisma.

The precise nature of the relationship between Lucan's epic De Bello Civili and Petronius' essay on the same theme1 has proved one of the most intractable and perplexing interpretative problems of the Satyrica. Some have regarded Petronius' version as a straightforward parody of Lucan's; others have adopted the almost contrary view that Petronius is offering a ‘fair copy’ designed to show how Lucan might have treated his material in a more appropriate (i.e. more Virgilian and traditional) manner.

A number of recent papers have discussed the episode at Odyssey 10.156–72 in which Odysseus, on the third morning after landing on Circe's island, sees, kills, and transports a huge stag whose meat revives his men, who are exhausted in both body and spirit. Since the incident does not advance the main action, it invites interpretation, particularly since it is so richly elaborated. Naturally, it has received several: that the stag should be understood as a transformed human, and thus prefigures the rest of the episode; that the incident marks the liminality of Odysseus, who is about to lose some of his manhood in remaining for a year on the island; that the stag derives from the magical animal which, in folktale, often leads the hero into the Otherworld or the Underworld; and that it serves, both within its immediate context and within the narrative as told to the Phaeacians, as a figure for heroic action, removed from the battlefield and rendered ‘urbane’ by its emphasis on the cleverness with which Odysseus transports the dead animal rather than on the actual killing. I would like to point to a completely different aspect of the episode and to suggest that although some of these studies may be true pointers to its origin, its function within the narrative is straightforward and does not in itself demand such elaborate interpretation: the incident with the stag belongs to a series of incidents that test the ability of Odysseus and his crew to obtain meat, and so develop central themes of feasting, social order, and leadership.

The only external evidence we have of the date of publication of Suetonius' Caesares is the statement of Iohannes Lydus that it contained a dedication to Septicius Clarus as praetorian prefect—a statement, incidentally, which is related to the correct nomenclature of the office, and not in any way to the persons concerned. This dedication, lost along with the opening chapters of Iulius, must accordingly have been made some time during the years 119–22, before Septicius and Suetonius were dismissed from their respective posts, apparently for lack of respect to the empress. What is by no means certain is that the dedicatory epistle was attached originally to the whole series of Lives; nor that all the Lives were completed, far less published, while Suetonius was still employed as ab epistulis to Hadrian.

There has been much discussion of the phrase ‘perpetuum… carmen’ and of its relation to Callimachus' rejection of the (Aetia fr. 1. 3 Pfeiffer). Much less has been written about deducite in line 4. However it is, I believe, equally important for the ‘programme’ of Ovid's poem.

Deducere is a metaphor frequently applied to poetry in general with the sense of ‘to write, compose something.’ In certain contexts the reference is much more specific and indicates subtle and polished writing of the kind associated with Callimachus.

It was at one time almost universally believed, and is still believed by some scholars, that Thucydides cannot have written his account of the Pentekontaetia (I. 89–118. 2) before his return from exile because he refers in it (97. 2) to the of Hellanicus, in which an event belonging to the year 407/6 was mentioned. This argument in favour of a late date for the composition of the excursus has been disputed and is now much less widely supported. It has been suggested that the reference to Hellanicus in 97. 2, or the whole of that section, was added by Thucydides to a part of his work written much earlier, or that an edition of the including an account of the Pentekontaetia may have been published long before 406 and the work have been subsequently continued.

‘More light is thrown on the poetic art of Stesichorus by the papyrus-text of his Geryoneis than by all his other fragments together.’ This verdict continues to be as true now as when it was first enunciated. But we are also in the fortunate position of being able to infer much of value about what we may term the pre-history of the legend which the poet took as the basis for his composition. And a key document within this process turns out to be a text that is not preserved upon papyrus, that is not, indeed, included as part of any edition of the poet, and which has been the object of some very serious misconceptions. The relevant section consists of a phrase only three words long, but it is difficult to underestimate their importance, once they are rightly understood.

My purpose in this note is to examine the evidence for the witness's oath of disclaimer in the Athenian lawcourts. This is an issue on which modern discussions tend to be brief for want of ancient evidence. However, although our ignorance on matters of detail relating to the exomosia remains, and is likely to remain, profound, I believe that we can, by a careful reading of the limited evidence which is available, draw a number of more or less confident conclusions about the form and content of the oath and the degree of restriction it imposed on witness and litigant. The lexicographers have the following to say on pressures applied to recalcitrant witnesses:

Polydeukes 8.37: τóν δ' ο βονλóμενον μαρτρεῖν κλἠτενον το μαρτνρεῖν πρρστιθντεσ ἔδɛι δ αῖτóν ἠ μαρτνρεῖν ζομóσασθαι ὡσ οῖκ εíδεíη ἦ μἤ χιλíασ ποστíνειν. κλητεσθαι μν οῖν στí καλεíσθαι εíσ μαρτνρíαν, κκλητεεῖεσθαι δ τó δíκην óφεíλειν πí τπí τι τσ χιλíασ καταβαλεíν.

The disappearance of the imperial biographies written by Marius Maximus is one of the more frustrating losses of Latin literature, for various reasons: the well-known testimony of Ammianus, the interest (and frivolity) of Marius Maximus' attested contribution to the Historia Augusta, his importance, much in dispute, to the writer of that work, the lack of information on much of the period he covered, and, not least, the fascinating role assigned to him by modern scholars, remodelling a previous duality of sources, of bad biographer in contrast to the good Ignotus. It has recently become common practice for the evidence of Ausonius' (so-called) Caesares to be used in the search for this biographer. The suggestion goes back to a dissertation of F. della Corte in 1956/7, and was taken up in his edition of Ausonius' works by Pastorino, and discussed in the following year by Cazzaniga who, though uncertain about the dependence of Ausonius on Marius Maximus, does misleadingly assert (perhaps echoing Momigliano) ‘e certo che l'ultima epigramma tocca Elagabalo, che chiude la silloge’. More recently, della Corte has returned to the question and sketched a possible model for the growth of the whole extant collection of Ausonius' Caesares, on the basis of the manuscript tradition. The same volume contains a contribution to the question by S. d'Elia and includes, by a felicitous piece of editing, an extended footnote in which d'Elia is able to comment on the relevant part of della Corte's paper.

Meanwhile, outside Italy, there have been parallel and independent developments.

Dissatisfaction with Thucydides' account of the years of confusion and inconclusive action that followed the Peace of Nicias has perhaps been too strong a stimulus to modern scholars. In their eagerness to repair the historian's omissions and illuminate his obscurities they have sometimes offered answers to questions of policy and motive that seem needlessly elaborate, complex, and farfetched, often basing their views of the foreign policy of cities on assumptions about internal political dissensions as unnecessary as they are implausible.

In the controversy over the date of Corinna, the following points may be taken as agreed:

1. An edition was made in Boeotia about the end of the third or beginning of the second century B.C.

2. The texts of Corinna current in the late Hellenistic and Roman periods were all descended from that Boeotian edition.

3. Before its dissemination, Corinna was unknown in Greece at large. If she wrote at an earlier period, she must have been remembered only locally.

The difference between Boeotian spelling of the fifth century and that of the fourth is very great: but the difference in this respect between the mid-fourth century and the late third or early second is comparatively slight. It is therefore tenable that whereas there would be a good reason for the re-spelling of fifth-century Boeotian into the later convention of any period, there would be no obvious or adequate reason for re-spelling Boeotian of the fourth century into the orthography of the third, or that of the third into that of the second. Even those features of fourth-century spelling which have ceased to preponderate are by no means unknown or even uncommon at the end of the third century.

On Virgil's lines excudent alii…(Aen. 6.847–53) there have been two recent studies, 1 and further items of bibliography from the last five years or so may be added. Nevertheless, there remains a good deal of uncertainty, even controversy, over Virgil's choice of Greek and Roman cultural achievements and over the literary antecedents of that choice.