The story of Atlantis, inspiration (on a recent estimate) of more than 20,000 books, rests entirely on an elaborate Platonic myth (Timaeus 20d–26e, continued in Critias 108d–121c), allegedly based on a private, oral tradition deriving from Solon. Solon himself is supposed to have heard the story in Egypt; a priest obligingly translated it for him from hieroglyphic inscriptions in a temple in Sais. It might be added that (unlike his modern readers) Plato is less concerned with Atlantis than with her rival and conqueror, the Athens of that antediluvian age 9600 B.C. That Plato himself made the whole story up (fashionable recent theories about Thera notwithstanding) is indeed virtually demonstrable. This is not the place for such a demonstration (not that any amount of proof could destroy the faith of the true believer), but it is at any rate possible to eliminate completely one of the crucial props on which belief has always leaned.

As is well known, Epicurus and his followers held that the universe was infinite and f that its two primary components, void and atoms, were each infinite. The void was infinite in extension, the atoms were infinite in number and their total was infinite also in extension. The chief Epicurean proofs of these infinities are found in Epicurus, Ad Herod. 41–2, and in Lucretius 1.951–1020. As far as I can see, both the commentators to these works and writers on Epicurean physics in general have neglected to take into account some material pertinent to these proofs, material found in Aristotle and especially in his commentators Alexander of Aphrodisias, Themistius, Simplicius, and Philoponus. In this article I wish to compare this neglected information with the proofs of infinity found in Epicurus and Lucretius and to discuss their authorship.

It is now five years since P. J. Parsons published the Lille Callimachus, and the dust appears to have settled. The appearance of these fragments, which greatly increase our knowledge of the opening of the third book of the Aetia, has been followed by no great critical reaction. Apart from the attractive suggestion of E. Livrea that the ‘Mousetrap’ (fr. 177 Pf.) may belong within the story of Heracles and Molorchus, the episode has had somewhat limited impact. This is against the usual trend of over-reaction to the publication of new literary texts (witness the Cologne Archilochus and the new Gallus), and is in part a tribute to the thoroughness and clarity with which Parsons presented the fragments.

A vast amount has been written on the relationship between Terence's and Menander's Eunuchus. On some points a good measure of agreement has been reached, but much remains in dispute. In an important article W. Ludwig convincingly demonstrated the inner unity of Terence's plot, against earlier theories of large-scale ‘contaminatio’ The nature of the changes made by Terence in introducing two characters from Menander's Colax (30–3) is now fairly clear, although argument is possible over details. The changes are numerous but relatively small and do not affect the main lines of Menander's plot. In this paper I shall argue that Terence made similar changes in two other parts of the play, and that these caused certain anomalies which have prompted theories of more drastic Terentian change.

Some say that only 30 were seized, and that the Curiae were named after them, but Valerius Antias [fr. 3P] says there were 527, Juba [FGrH275F23] that there were 683. They were virgins, which was Romulus' main justification: no married women were taken – except one, Hersilia, by mistake - since it was not in wanton violence or injustice that they resorted to rape, but with the intention of bringing the two peoples together and uniting them with the strongest ties. As for Hersilia, some say she was married to Hostilius, a very distinguished Roman, others that she was married to Romulus himself and even bore him children: one daughter, Prima, so called from the order of birth, and a single son, whom Romulus named Aollios after the crowd of citizens under his rule, though he was subsequently called Abillios [i.e. Avillius]. Many authors, however, contradict this account, which is given by Zenodotus of Troezen [FGrH 821F2].

The proverbial obscurity of the Alexandra discourages conjecture, and Lycophron's editors have not been given to bold emendation. It may indeed seem that much has been suffered to pass unquestioned which no-one would think tolerable if it stood in the MSS. of Aeschylus, whose style Lycophron clearly sought to emulate. Yet despite the prophetic form of his Rahmenerzählung his manner of expression is far removed from the deliberate opacity, all too often accompanied by defective grammar (and, where appropriate, defective metre), characteristic of genuine apocalyptic prophecy, whether bona fide or post eventum, nor does the appeal of this rather bookish poetry lie in that power to enlist our sympathies for impossible dreams and lost causes beside which animadversions on syntactical abnormality seem stony-hearted.

Mommsen, writing in 1866,1 dated the marriage of Tiberius Gracchus and Cornelia to 165/4 on the basis of this passage, understanding it to mean that their twelve children came in an alternating series of boys and girls. Tiberius, with his father's praenomen, would then be either the first or second child of the marriage, and as he was born in 163/2, Mommsen concluded that the marriage must have taken place not much more than two years before that date.

Quid enim? si Daphitae fatum fuit ex equo cadere atque ita perire, ex hocne equo, qui cum equus non esset nomen habebat alienum ? aut Philippus hasne in capulo quadrigulas vitare monebatur? quasi vero capulo sit occisus. Quid autem magnum aut naufragum illum sine nomine in rivo esse lapsum – quamquam huic quidem his scribit in aqua esse pereundum? ne hercule Icadii quidem praedonis video fatum ullum; nihil enim scribit ei praedictum: quid mirum igitur ex spelunca saxum in crura eius incidisse? puto enim, etiam si Icadius tum in spelunca non fuisset, saxum tamen illud casurum fuisse, nam aut nihil est omnino fortuitum aut hoc ipsum potuit evenire fortuna. (Cicero, De Fato 5)

‘sed ad hunc bolum ut pervenias, opus erit tibi aut epulum aut triumphus alicuius, ut tune fuit Scipionis Metelli, aut collegiorum cenae, quae nunc innumerabiles excandefaciunt annonam macelli.’ Varro, RR 3. 2. 16. (‘But to make such a haul as this, you will need a public banquet, or somebody's triumph, like Metellus Scipio's then, or the dinners of the collegia, which are innumerable just now and send the price of provisions in the market blazing up.’)

In the first argumentative section of Book 1, Lucretius establishes the existence of matter and void (146–482), and in the second identifies matter as the atoms and defines their properties (483–634). In the third section, following Epicurean tradition, he attempts to refute a representative selection of Presocratic philosophers – Heraclitus (635–704), Empedocles (705–829) and Anaxagoras (830–920) – whose explanations of basic matter are potential rivals to the atomist theory which he has just outlined. The climax to this section is reached in Lucretius' triumphant personal claim to be an original poet and health-bringing purveyor of truth (921–50). His foregoing criticism (and praise) of the Presocratics as writers and thinkers is deeply coloured by the values he openly professes here. The introductory passages to each philosopher, in particular, are highly revealing of Lucretius' personal inclinations as a poet and exhibit a virtuoso command of several styles and techniques.

Among the difficulties in Propertius is the question whether to retain ‘cecinit’ in 3. 3. 7 or to adopt the conjecture ‘cecini’.

Propertius dreamed that he was reclining upon Helicon in a grove by Hippocrene and that he was able to compose a Roman historical epic:

Visus eram molli recubans Heliconis in umbra,

Bellerophontei qua fluit umor equi,

Reges, Alba, tuos et regum facta tuorum

(Tantum operis) neruis hiscere posse meis,

Paruaque tam magnis admoram fontibus ora

Vnde pater sitiens Ennius ante bibit,

Et cecinit Curios fratres et Horatia pila

Regiaque Aemilia uecta tropaea rate

Victricesque moras Fabii pugnamque sinistram

Cannensem et uersos ad pia uota deos

Hannibalemque Lares Romana sede fugantes,

Anseris et tutum uoce fuisse Iouem,

Cum me Castalia speculans ex arbore Phoebus

Sic ait…

According to the paradosis 7–12 constitute a summary of Ennius' Annales. In that I case Propertius' failure to observe historical sequence (the Gaulish attack of 387 coming after the Second Punic War) is peculiar; nor is it defended securely by I supposedly parallel passages. More damaging, however, is that 8 must describe the triumph of L. Aemilius Paullus in 167, two years after the accepted date of Ennius' death. Hertzberg and Postgate claimed that it alludes to the defeat of Demetrius of I Pharos by a L. Aemilius Paullus in 219 (Polyb. 3. 16. 18, App. Illyr. 8); this is unlikely for some of the same reasons as the rival theory of Butler and Barber, which has found many adherents, that it refers to the victory over Antiochus' navy by L. Aemilius Regillus at Myonnesus in 190.

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.

The Romans had various ways of justifying their imperial aims and methods, some high-minded, some less so. We find in particular that they could give honourable and satisfying explanations of their aims and methods in war. Here for example is Cicero:

quare suscipienda quidem bella sunt ob earn causam, ut sine iniuria in pace uiuatur; parta autem uictoria conseruandi ii, qui non crudeles in bello, non immanes fuerunt, ut maiores nostri Tusculanos, Aequos…in ciuitatem etiam acceperunt, at Carthaginem…funditus sustulerunt…mea quidem sententia paci, quae nihil habitura sit insidiarum, semper est consulendum. et cum iis, quos ui deuiceris, consulendum est, tum ii qui armis positis and imperatorum fidem confugient, quamuis murum aries percusserit, recipiendi (Off. 1. 35).

It is often claimed that in the ancient world character was believed to be something fixed, given at birth and immutable during life. This belief is said to underlie the portrayal of individuals in ancient historiography and biography, particularly in the early Roman Empire; and tc constitute the chief point of difference in psychological assumptions between ancient and modern biography. In this article, I wish to examine the truth of these claims, with particular reference to Plutarch and Tacitus.

In Aristophanes' Wasps (673–5), Bdelykleon tells his jury-mad father that because the allied states are aware that the ordinary Athenian juror is an exploited creature, deliberately kept poor by the demagogues in whose hands the real power lies, σ⋯ μ⋯ν ⋯γο⋯νΤαι Κ⋯ννου ψ⋯φον, Το⋯τοισι δ⋯ δωρоφоρоῡσιν. The scholia see that Κόννου ψ⋯φον must mean ‘something worthless’, but they add on the authority of Kallistratos and Euphronios that Ar. has altered the original phrase:

ΚαλλĺστραΤος παροιμ⋯αν φησ⋯ “Κόννου θρῖον”, παρ՚ ἣν παίζει Εὺφρόνιος δ⋯ ὅτι ⋯λέΧθη δι⋯ τ⋯ ⋯δύν τινα τ⋯ν Κόννον εἶναι. … ψ⋯φον δ⋯ εἶπε δι⋯ δι⋯ τ⋯ περ⋯ δικαστο⋯ λ⋯γειν. (Σ Wasps 675b+c ed. Koster)

We cannot tell whether Euphronios was commenting on κóννον θριον or κóννον ψ⋯ϕον, since although he was writing before Kallistratos, the latter need not have been the first to cite the phrase κóννον θριον in connection with our passage; indeed, the credit for first noting its relevance may belong to Euphronios himself. I shall be reverting to Euphronios' interpretation of the phrase presently.

Aeneas' speech of defence before Dido (A. 4. 333–61) is the longest and most controversial he delivers. Although by no means typical, it can open up some revealing perspectives over the rest of the poem.

The exchange between the two, having as its kernel a dispute over obligations and responsibilities, requires some words of context. The early part of the book describes the establishment of a liaison between the refugee leaders, while revealing amongst the poem's characters a wide discrepancy of opinion over the nature of that liaison. Juno announces that she will arrange the marriage of the couple (125–7); after the ensuing marriage-parody of the cave-scene (165–8), Dido also calls what now exists a ‘marriage’: coniugium uocat, hocpraetexit nomine culpam (172). Fama too, moving around Libya, speaks as if Dido has taken Aeneas for husband (192). But the local King Iarbas regards Aeneas as a pirate who has carried off a successful job of plunder (217), while Jupiter looks down from heaven and sees ‘lovers’, amantis (221). Mercury is able to address Aeneas as uxorius (266).

Pease ad loc.: ‘Roman writers often use axis… in a figurative sense… for the caelum as a whole, and in our passage, while the force is applied by Atlas to the axis of the sphere, yet the whole sphere is apparently in mind, as the phrase stellis ardentibus aptum indicates.’ It is lexicographical commonplace that axis is used, especially in the poets, as a synonym for the sky, yet the oddity of the synecdoche by which a scientific, or pseudoscientific, term for the axis of the universe is transferred to mean the heavens in general has been little commented on; unanalytic recognition of the semantic fact is the norm (e.g. ‘aus einem bestimmten mathematischen Begriffe eine… allgemeine, unbestimmte Vorstellung’). I believe that a more precise account of this transference can be given, and in particular I will argue that Virgilian usage in the Aeneid is central to the history of this process.

So van Leeuwen prints the lines, following Cobet and Meineke in athetizing 16. Nor is it difficult to find grounds for the exclusion; τòν ἒποϕ is (virtually) repeated at 47; the following three words smell of the scholiast; the last three resemble the end of 13. The line taken as a whole seems to play little if any role, and indeed to lack meaning, even if line 47 is some way away and it is a little odd that the three separate elements meld into a perfectly acceptable comic trimeter (but compare Wasps 1293). Conjectures are not lacking for the replacement of ⋯κ τ⋯ν ⋯ρν⋯ων by something which gives more sense; Köchly's ἂνθρωποσ ποτ' ὢν may be taken as typical in both meaning and style.

Commentators on Epode 11 generally begin by comparing the opening couplet with Archilochus (frg. 215 West): κα⋯ μ' οὔτ' ἰ⋯μβων οὔτε τερπωλ⋯ων μ⋯λει, and sometimes also Catullus 68. 1–40. In both of these the poet explains that grief at the death of a loved one has expelled all desire to compose verses. According to the comparison, Horace, in 1–2, is stating that the onset of love (‘amore percussum gravi’, 2) has, similarly, so absorbed his attention that he cannot write verse. The translation will then run ‘Pettius, I have no pleasure any longer in writing verse, smitten as I am with a heavy love’.

In a recent publication of four new inscriptions from Larisa in Thessaly, Kostas Gallis has revealed the helpful presence of a Syrian astrologer in that area of Greece toward the middle of the second century B.C. (or a little later). In honouring this man the Larisaeans identify him, in one of the new texts, as 'αντíπατροσ 'αντιπ⋯τρον 'ιεροπολíτησ τ⋯σ ∑ελευκíδοσ, πεπ∨λιτ*ogr;γ7rho;αϕημ⋯νοσ [δ⋯] ⋯ν 'ομολíω υπ⋯ρχων χαλδαῖοσ ⋯στρονóμοσ, ⋯νδημ⋯ν τἦμ⋯ν ⋯ρò ρρóνων. The Chaldaean astrologer Antipater is accordingly a native of Syrian Hierapolis who acquired the citizenship of Homolion, in the area of Thessalian Magnesia. He evidently spent considerable time in Larisa.