The course of Athenian military operations after the battle of Kyzikos is not to be explained by considerations of strategy alone. Immediately after their victory the Athenian commanders acted briskly enough, building a fort and instituting a tithe at Chrysopolis, but instead of following up the annihilation of Mindaros' fleet by the capture of Sparta's bases on land, they then lapsed into an inactivity hard to excuse in generals who had just shown such capacity in action, and apparently alien to the temperament of Alkibiades. The whole history of Greek naval warfare shows that no power can maintain control of the sea while the nearby seaboard remains in the hands of the enemy, and by thus neglecting the coastal towns Athens allowed Sparta bases in the Hellespont for the ships which Pasippidas and Klearchos collected from the allies (Xen. Hell. I 1. 32, 36, 3. 17) and even opportunity for new construction (ibid. 1. 25–6, 3. 17). The Hellespont was in any case vital to Athens, the area in which a defeat could lose the whole war for her, yet though Thrasyllos had gone home months before the battle to get reinforcements for the Hellespont, nothing was sent there, and when Thrasyllos did collect a force he took it to Ionia.

The site of Caunus has been much neglected by the field archaeologists. The ruins at Dalyan have been known and identified for more than a hundred years, since Hoskyn found there an inscription mentioning ‘the Council and People of the Caunians’. In this period they have been visited and described twice, by Collignon in 1877 and by Maiuri in 1920. These descriptions are confined to the obvious visible remains; no excavation, and little research, has yet been undertaken. In particular, the inscriptions hitherto published have been few and undistinguished.

The material for the present article was collected during a series of visits to Dalyan from 1946 to 1952. I am much indebted to the active help of the accountant to the fishery, Bay Muharrem Türköz, whose intelligent interest in the antiquities of Caunus was of the greatest assistance at all times. Many of the inscriptions were actually discovered by Ali Demir of Çandir.

The ‘Helena’ remains a strangely misunderstood play. Although it has attracted rather less than its fair share of editorial attention in recent years, it has come in for some incidental judgements of marked asperity; otherwise it generally escapes with nothing better than qualified praise, and indeed one may suspect that it is remembered by many more for the exegetical extravaganza which Verrall built round it than for its own content. In antiquity, however, the play does not seem to have given such offence; though in later times overshadowed by the notoriety of the Andromeda, produced in the same year, we know that the Helena made a sufficiently striking impression on its first appearance in 412 B.C., for in the following year Aristophanes drew freely on both these plays in his Thesmophoriazusae for material for as sustained and lively a passage of parody as any to be found in his extant works.

There may be little hope at this interval of time of discovering what the ancients may have seen in the piece that apparently escapes us, but a sympathetic attempt to see what Euripides was trying to do may lead to some modification of the prevalent opinion, and a juster estimate of the play.

Protagoras has just been presented with a new pupil, Hippocrates, and he states what he proposes to teach him—such prudence in domestic affairs as will best enable him to regulate his own household, and such wisdom in public affairs as will best qualify him to speak and act in affairs of state (318e). Socrates asks is this the art of politics and is Protagoras undertaking to make men good citizens, and Protagoras agrees (319a). Socrates replies that he had supposed that this art could not be taught, and he gives two grounds: (1) the Athenians are agreed to be wise men, yet, while they call in experts in the assembly to advise them on technical matters, they regard all citizens alike as capable of advising them on matters pertaining to the city (319b–d); (2) the wisest and best of the citizens are not able to hand this virtue on to others. So Pericles educated his sons well in all that could be taught by teachers, but he did not try to teach them, or have them taught his own wisdom, but left them to pick it up unaided (319d–320b).

Now Protagoras, it has been pointed out, is in a difficult position. He is apparently confronted with the choice of admitting that virtue cannot be taught and that his profession is a fraud, or of declaring that the theory of Athenian democracy is false, and his patron, Pericles, is ignorant of the true nature of political virtue. His reply takes the form of a myth, followed by a set argument (Logos). Some have regarded his reply as ‘a tissue of obscure and contradictory ideas,’ while others who have recognised its skill, have regarded it as failing in one way or another to give a satisfactory answer to Socrates' objections. It is the aim of what follows to show that Protagoras' answer is perfectly satisfactory if rightly understood, and that the contrary opinions are due to misunderstandings of what Protagoras actually says in the dialogue.

Classical Greek kinship terminology, as it is used for example by Isaios, offers few difficulties of meaning in its terms, and describes a bilateral family rather like our own. The principal usages mav be shown in genealogical form as follows:

The noteworthy terms are: (i) kedestes, (2) anepsios, anepsiadous, exanepsios, and (3) adelphos and adelphe. Kedestes is applicable to any male who is a close relative by marriage, but who does not belong to the circle of heirs within the anchisteia: the term thus covers our father-in-law, stepfather, brother-in-law, and son-in-law. The close association of the term with words for ‘mourning’ suggests that this name arose from the duties performed in the funerals of members of their wives' anchisteia, even though they were outside the circle of heirs. The terms pentheros and gambros are, apparently, influenced by the usage of kedestes, and tend to the same classificatory employment. The meaning of nyos similarly tends to wander. Anepsios varies between cousin-german and nephew, and each of these relationships also has its exact term, in both cases a compound of adelphos. Anepsiadous and its synonym anepsiou pais are used not only for the cousin's child (the first cousin once removed), but also for Ego's parent's cousin (also a first cousin once removed): so Theopompos, the mother's cousin and heir of Hagnias, calls himself anepsiou pais to Hagnias. The exanepsios was outside the Attic anchisteia, and the term is rarely found. The terms for blood relatives are of the common IE vocabulary except adelphos and adelphe, which have replaced phrater (surviving to mean ‘member of a phratry’), and the lexicographers' eor.

Among the post-homeric traditions of Odysseus' wanderings the most persistent and circumstantial group is that which places such decisive adventures as the visits to Circe and the underworld in Italy. His wanderings were indeed located at various times in many other parts of the Mediterranean and even beyond it, but none of these locations was felt in antiquity to have so much authority as those which connected him with Campania and sometimes with Etruria. How the two main branches of the Italian tradition are related is a further problem. The Italian location might appear as from the first the obvious and natural result of Greek colonisation within the historic period beginning with the eighth century; certainly many of the later developments must be derived from this source. There is also the likelihood that the Greeks in Italy and Sicily brought with them not merely the Iliad and the Odyssey and the cyclic epics in some form, but also other traditions of Odysseus from western and southern Greece which were independent of the Ionian epic. Scholars have often regarded the historic colonists as the originators of all the Italian lore of Odysseus, and have connected with them, in their earliest generations, those passages of the Odyssey which suggest real acquaintance with Italy or Sicily, assuming them to be later than the rest. This is not the place for a critical discussion of late books or interpolations in the Odyssey; it will simply be assumed that not all the material of Homer, as material, was of the same date, and that there was much other matter, not used in Homer, which was as old as any that was included. Some of this matter, since Odysseus' home was near the limits of the Greek world, may also have been imperfectly Greek from the first, and not all of its carriers need have been Greeks.

The budget of Perikles can be reconstructed only by studying numerous pieces of evidence, of varying importance and varying reliability. Neither the importance nor the reliability of any piece of evidence can beproperly assessed except by a scholar who can carry all the evidence in his head, which I am far from capable of doing, but it is safe to say (a) that the cost of Perikles's building programme forms an important element in the total budget, and (b) that considerable uncertainty exists about the cost of these buildings. When we find Cavaignac estimating the cost of the Propylaea at 400 talents, whereas Kolbe, Wilamowitz, and Busolt put it at over 2000, it is clear that the target area is large; and I hope it may be of some service if a figure for the Parthenon can be arrived at whose margin of error is at any rate less than 400 per cent.

An obvious starting point is the Parthenon building accounts, of which considerable fragments survive. These fragments show various sources of income, the treasury of the Goddess, the Hellenotamiai, the Trieropoioi, the baths, the Xenodikoi, the Teichopoioi, the mines at Laureion, and (towards the end of the work) the sale of surplus materials. But in no case do the actual sums involved survive with sufficient fullness to prove what the total expenditure was, even for one year. The most that can be proved is that in 444/3 the income was at least 38 talents, and that the out-going board handed over to their successors something more than 33 talents in 446 and a similar sum in 441.

The starting-point of this article was Cornford's essay, ‘A Ritual Basis for Hesiod's Theogony’, recently published in The Unwritten Philosophy. He showed it to me soon after he had written it in 1942. It is only a sketch, but it struck me at once as important, because it opens a new approach to the conclusion he had reached many years before in From Religion to Philosophy. I told him this and begged him to pursue the subject, but he smiled and said, ‘I leave that to you’. Hence the title of this article, which is a tribute to his memory.

His From Religion to Philosophy appeared in 1913. In the same year Eduard Norden published his Agnostos Theos: Untersuchungen zur Formengeschichte religiöser Rede. In this study, starting from the Sermon on the Areopagus, Norden shows that the Greek and Latin authors employ, in poetry and prose, certain forms of speech, liturgical in origin, which can be traced independently in the Old Testament. The two streams, the Hellenic and the Hebrew, drawn from Babylonia and Egypt, were reunited in Christianity, notably by St. Paul, who, in virtue of his birth and upbringing, was equally well versed in both. Later, in the Byzantine liturgy, they were reinforced by a third stream, the Syrian, of the same ultimate origin.

With the fuller publication of the material found by Blegen at Ano Englianos in 1939 (The Pylos Tablets, Dr. Emmett L. Bennett, Jr., Princeton, 1951) and by Evans at Knossos in 1899–1904 (Scripta Minoa, Vol. II, ed. Sir John Myres, Oxford, 1952), it has at last been possible to undertake a systematic study of the Minoan–Mycenaean texts written in Linear Script B. Their decipherment is now the central problem in Aegean archaeology, accentuated by the discovery, in the summer of 1952, of many new tablets by Blegen at Pylos and by Wace at Mycenae.

Evans believed that Linear B (first found in the L.M. II palace of Knossos, c. 1400 B.C., and thereafter the exclusive script of the Mainland down to the ‘Dorian invasion’) was an administrative revision of Linear A, designed to express the same ‘Aegean’ language; and that Minoan colonisation of the Mainland was responsible for its occurrence at Pylos, Tiryns, Thebes, and Eleusis.

The story of the sources of the Nile which Herodotus says the Scribe of the Sacred Treasures of Athene told him at Sais has been discussed many times, and nearly everything which can be said about it has been said. But the following points do not seem to have been made as yet.

The story that the sources or springs of the Nile are at Elephantine is absurd as it stands, as indeed Herodotus himself realised. Many suggestions have been put forward in explanation, primarily that the story is something theological or that it represents a very ancient tradition dating from the earliest times when the First Cataract was the Ultima Thule of Egypt. The flaw in such an explanation is that ‘from the earliest times’ the Nile's course south of the Cataract had been well known to the Egyptians. Cemeteries have been found in Nubia of the Egyptian predynastic and early dynastic times, and certainly from the Old Kingdom onwards armies and trading expeditions were commonly accustomed to go far up to the south. It was, therefore, well known to the Egyptians throughout history that the Nile did not rise at the First Cataract, but came from much farther south.

While the great discoveries at Mycenae and Pylos have focused attention on the Peloponnse and the Mycenaean era, the record of excavations in all provinces of Greece and stages of antiquity in this past year is an unprecedented one; there have been some forty different excavations, and the activity of the Archaeological Society in the field has reached a peak. The clearing of the Athenian Agora has been greatly advanced, excavation has been resumed at Dodona and Olympia; the Temple of Poseidon at the Isthmia has at last been discovered, and the oldest known metal-working establishment in Europe has been uncovered on the east coast of Attica. Prof. Orlandos and his assistants have continued the restoration of Byzantine churches as far afield as Khanià, Siátista and the lake-island of Préspa. The advance in the reconstitution of the metropolitan collections this year is not immediately perceptible, but there has been welcome progress in the museums of Olympia, Delphi, and Herakleion.

The British excavations at Mycenae in 1952 were conducted with a research grant from the American Philosophical Society assisted by contributions from the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford, the British Academy, the Leverhulme Trustees, and the British School at Athens, under whose aegis the work was carried out. The principal objectives were the ruins by side of the modern carriage road once tentatively called a Hellenistic Gymnasium, further investigation of the Prehistoric Cemetery outside the Lion Gate to the west, the clearing of the House of the Oil Merchant (found in 1950 and formerly called the House of Stirrup Jars) and of the House ofthe Wine Merchant (found in 1951 and part of the Cyclopean Terrace Building).

The so-called Hellenistic Gymnasium, now completely cleared, proved to be a Fountain House to be identified with the Perseia Krene seen by Pausanias among the ruins of Mycenae. Here presumably Tsountas found the inscribed poros base which mentions Perseus and clearly belonged to a fountain. There are two basins, one wide and one narrow, built against a terrace wall of ashlar poros of late classical date. The existing ruins are Hellenistic, but overlie an earlier water channel. The water was probably led down from the well-known spring (now called neromána) which lies about twenty minutes above the acropolis to the east. Built into one of the basins is an inscription dating from the second quarter of the fifth century B.C., a boundary stone from a shrine of Hera. The identification of this Fountain House as the Perseia Krene confirms yet further the accuracy of Pausanias' account of Mycenae.

In a second campaign at Sotíra P. Dikaios, working for the Kourion expedition, has carried forward the excavation of the hill-top Neolithic settlement. In several of the houses the original floors were uncovered; they yielded pottery of the same types as were found on the two floors above (combed, red lustrous, and red-on-white). In most of the rectangular houses a line of three post holes was found, one in the centre and the others against the shorter walls, indicating a central roof-beam along the long axis. On the northern edge of the plateau a great mass of stone intersected by rough walls was uncovered; it seems best explained as the result of stacking the stone cleared from the site after the destruction of the settlement at the stage of the second floor, when the site was cleared and the houses rebuilt for the last time. A preliminary report on the 1951 season has appeared.

Pl. V and figs. 1–3 illustrate a small inscribed portrait-herm recently acquired by the Trustees of the British Museum, to whom thanks are due for permission to publish it here. It was discovered in 1948 in the lumber-room of a Kentish antique-dealer, but nothing more is known of its history. The material is a coarse-grained, rather grey marble which resembles specimens from Proconnesus. The total height of the herm is 22 inches (56 cm.); from the top of the inscription panel to the top of the head measures 8 ½ inches (21.5 cm.). The tip of the nose part of a cloak thrown over one of the shoulders, more probably the left, since this is the shoulder over which the cloak is normally draped. The notch, to judge from its position, was part of the lowest linea transversa on the left flank. In its general pose the figure must have been close to the type of the Belvedere Hermes. From shoulder to fork it measured roughly 21·5 inches (541·5 cm.), from which we may estimate that the complete figure stood just over 4 feet high (11·20 m.).

I am indebted to the authorities of the Otago Museum, Dunedin, New Zealand, for permission to publish a column-krater which they have recently acquired. The vase is unbroken, but the main scene is badly pitted; the reverse is practically undamaged. The glaze is a good lustrous black except for an area below one handle which has fired red and dark brown. There are lotus-buds on the neck above the main scene only, and rays round the base between two bands of red. The pictures are unframed, but a third red line runs round the vase to serve as a ground line for the figures.

On the front of the shaft is an epigram of three hexameter verses, neatly engraved on a slightly sunk panel, every letter of which is unmistakably legible. The panel is 27·5 cm. high and 11 cm. broad, and the letters are 1·5 cm. in height. The script shows the influence of the cursive writing in the ‘lunar’ forms of ΕСΩ the slight prolongation of the right-hand stroke of ΑΔΛ above the top of the left-hand stroke, and the curved form of Μ but the letters are not tall, narrow, and crowded, as is often the case with the cursive script. A has an unbroken cross-bar, the straight stroke of ⊖ touches the circumference on both sides, and the horizontal stroke of Θ extends to right and left considerably beyond the verticals. All letters are represented except ΖΞΦΨ The ends of many strokes are thickened so as to form rudimentary serifs. The syllabic division of words is strictly observed, though this has necessitated the introduction of a leaf-ornament to fill the vacant space at the end of 1. 5 and the continuation of 1. 8 beyond the edge of the panel. A mark of punctuation like a Greek colon indicates the close of the first metrical verse.

In 1946 an expedition led by Professor H. Bossert and his Turkish colleagues of the Institute for Research in Ancient Oriental Civilisations at the University of Istanbul investigated a site, now called Karatepe, in Cilicia, in a wild and remote part of the Taurus Mountains overlooking the Ceyhan River. There they found a small citadel fortified by a wall and ornamented with lions in the gateways. They excavated the gateways and found them to be flanked by sculptured slabs and inscriptions partly in Phoenician, partly in Hittite hieroglyphs. A further excavation on the summit of the hill found other inscriptions in these two languages, which finally, when compared, proved to be versions of the same text. The long-sought bilingual which would interpret Hittite hieroglyphic script had been found. Confirmation was now to be available of the slow and hesitant interpretations of the hieroglyphs which had been attempted over ninety years.

Many scholars who have studied Priscus' account (frg. 8, pp. 289 to 323 in L. Dindorf, Historici Graeci Minores, vol. 1, to the pages and lines of which reference will be made throughout) of his visit to the court of Attila in summer 449, have concluded that the Hun king's camp was on the North-eastern part of the Hungarian plain, between the Theiss and the Körös, and all whose works I have been able to consult have stated, or implied by their narrative, that it was somewhere in Hungary.

That Attila usually made his headquarters in the plain of Hungary is true and early became a commonplace. It is perhaps as a result of this that scholars have been so ready to assume that in 449 he was there, and have even ‘emended’ the text of our one and only eye-witness to accord with their views. Let us begin by a fresh examination of Priscus' narrative.