I have already published in the pages of this Journal some of the vases acquired by the Ashmolean Museum since the catalogue of Ashmolean vases appeared in 1893.

In vol. xviii, p. 136 is published a late Attic vase with a representation of the carrying off of Oreithyia by Boreas. In vol. xxi, p. 1 is published a red-figured vase representing Pandora rising out of the ground. In vol. xv, p. 325 two sepulchral lekythi are published. Two other papers (xiii. 70 and 137) comment upon vases already included in the Ashmolean catalogue, Nos. 211, 275, one concerned with the myth of Cacus, one with that of Tithonus and Eos.

We were at Khatyn Serai for four days, arriving on the fourth day of July, 1901, and leaving on the seventh. Our road from Konia lay through Baiyat, where we copied the following inscription.

The length of our stay at Khatyn Serai enabled us to become acquainted with a good number of inscriptions. Besides verifying almost all the inscriptions already published from Professor Sterrett's copies, or from Professor Ramsay's earlier ones (cf. W.E. pp. 242 ff.; C.I.L. vol. iii. pp. 1239 and 2061), we heard of and copied twenty-four new inscriptions, ten of which are in Latin and one bilingual. We were also able to make some examination of Zoldera, the site of the ancient city, which lies rather more than a mile N.W. of the village.

The inscriptions are most conveniently considered according to the language in which they are written; for if they were found on the site of the modern village, they were in all probability carried thither from Zoldera.

In the collection of the terra-cottas at the Polytechnic in Athens many of the figures have points of interest bearing on the development of art, or on the science of comparative mythology or religion. One small figure (No. 943) is, on the other hand, of especial interest to the medical mind, affording as it does a good specimen of the typical leper physiognomy. It is a pitiful glimpse into the olden time which this figure gives, and, no less than a living imported leper I saw last spring at the Evangelismus Hospital, does it strike a discord with the beauty of Athens and its surroundings.

This little figure is in the midst of a number of small, thick-set figures in rough terra-cotta, of uncertain origin. They were bought at a sale, and their history cannot now be traced ; but from their general character they are classed with others of about the third century B.C. They were evidently intended to be caricatures of contemporary life. Jolly, rollicking men suggest noisy Bacchic carousings; a portly, elderly woman bends with somewhat comical, grandmotherly solicitude over her nursling; and other well-executed, but more or less coarsely imagined, figures are so obviously designed to provoke laughter, that one pulls up with a start, and almost with a shudder, before the poor leper No. 943.

There are probably no twelve consecutive lines in the Homeric poems which have been obscured by so many explanations as Iliad xviii. 497—508. The interpretation which I propose to give has possibly been anticipated piece-meal, but I have not come across any case in which it has been presented as a whole. Still it is a matter of common courtesy only that one should begin by offering apologies to the unknown previous expositor, if he should after all prove to exist.

For convenience of reference it will be best to begin by setting out the passage at length.

‘The people were gathered in the place of assembly, and there had sprung up a strife; two men were striving about the price of a man slain. The one averred that he had paid in full, and made declaration thereof to the people, but the other refused to accept aught; and both were desirous to take an issue at the hand of a daysman; and the people were shouting for both, taking part for either side. And the heralds were restraining the people, and the elders sate on polished stones in the holy circle, and in their hands they held the clear-voiced heralds' staves. With these they rose up and gave sentence in turn; and in their midst lay two talents of gold to give to him among them that spake the justest doom.’

Every visitor of the Vatican Museum knows the fine statue of Aphrodite placed near the large staircase in the Sala a croce greca on account of its beauty as well as by reason of the fact that its lower half is covered with a drapery of tin. The greater will be the surprise of many of our readers, looking at our Plate LXXX., to see unveiled the secret charms of that figure, and they will ask how the goddess could be allowed to lay aside for some moments the garment forced upon her a century ago by a misplaced sense of pretended decency. We owe it to the persevering zeal of Mr. Walter Copland Perry to have found a means of obtaining such a cast for the Collection of Casts from the Antique in the South Kensington Museum, by the formation of which Mr. Perry has begun so happily to fill up a sensible blank in the artistic collections of the British capital. The British Museum is so astonishingly rich in first-rate Greek originals that we can easily understand how the importance of a museum of casts could be rather undervalued, and how to the University of Cambridge was left the merit of forming the first English collection of casts from the antique on a greater scale.

Apparently there had been sculptured on the missing half of the marble stelè lately acquired by the British Museum from Athens a seated figure with hand upraised (Pl. 1.). There is a trace of the raised arm and also of a footstool. The subject had therefore been one of those scenes of parting or meeting so common on Athenian stelae. But the young man leaning on his staff is not of the usual Athenian type. In several respects he resembles a youthful Heracles on a relief from Mt. Ithome now in Athens, which figure it has been the custom to regard as Polycleitan (Fig. 1). So far as the pose of the head and the Diadumenos-like modelling of the body are concerned that opinion may be right. Only we must remember that the somewhat formal modelling of the thorax both in the Ithome relief and the new stelè is not unfrequent in Greek art, at least from the time of Lysippos onwards. A familiar instance is the Hermes on the sculptured drum of a column from Ephesus in the British Museum. It is a modification of the type of Polycleitos and may have set in much earlier than Lysippos. It may even have extended to Athens.

There is probably no sculptor as to whose work our notions have been more completely revolutionised in recent times than Myron. This change is due partly to new discoveries, but more to the identification of statues already known and exhibited. It is above all Myron's treatment of the head that has been hitherto inadequately realised, and for this the Massimi head, widely known through casts and photographs, is to a great degree responsible. The somewhat dull and heavy expression of this head does indeed remind us of Pliny's words, ‘ipse tarnen corporum tamen studiosus animi sensus non expressisse (videtur).” And the copyist who made this statue may very probably have been influenced by some such commonplace of artistic criticism. But the recent identification of two more extant works of Myron, the Perseus of the Antiquarium at Rome (Plate V) and the Athena in Frankfort, together with the replicas of the head of this last statue in Dresden and in the Vatican cellars, have completely changed our impressions as to his style, and are likely to have far-reaching results. Another statue that has recently come to be attributed generally to Myron is the well-known Cassel Apollo and its numerous replicas in various museums—notably a head in Vienna (Fig. 1) and another in the National Museum at Athens. All of these show the simplicity and severity of the art of the earlier part of the fifth century, together with a certain dignity and richness of effect which lead up to the work of Phidias. Above all, there is a fullness of intellectual and even spiritual life about them which contrasts strangely with the Massimi head. Correct inferences as to the style of Myron had already been drawn by Furtwängler and others. And it is particularly interesting to note in this connexion how Furtwängler traced the influence of Myron upon Cresilas. The expression which that sculptor gave to statues like the Diomed and the Amazon was especially admired by ancient critics in his wounded figures.

In the last pages of the Theaetetus Socrates is made to present four versions of a final attempt to define knowledge, as true opinion accompanied by logos, and to reject them all; yet in earlier dialogues ‘ability to give account’, λόγον ἔχειν or λόγον διδόναι δύναδθαι is closely associated with knowledge, not always, or not necessarily, knowledge of Forms, and in the Republic it is said to be the essential mark of the dialectician. These facts are exceedingly hard to interpret. In recent years the passage has been read as an indirect defence of the earlier theory of Forms, as the statement of a problem answered in the Sophist by a revision of that theory and as a piece of radical self-criticism. No one of these interpretations seems tome without difficulty, and in this article I shall attempt to argue for yet another solution which owes something to all three.

Professor Cornford, pressing the fact that Socrates draws all his illustrations from the world of concrete things, believes that Plato intended by criticism of the different versions to point the way to an old and invulnerable sense of λόγον διδόναι, which implies that the proper objects of knowledge are Forms. This is the statement or understanding of grounds for judgments which in the Meno is said to turn true opinion into knowledge. A rather similar line has been taken by Professor Cherniss. Professor Stenzel thinks that the earlier theory of Forms is vulnerable to Socrates' criticism of what I call ‘the first version’, the ‘dream’, but he believes that all three of the later versions ‘recover their meaning’ when the problem of definition has been solved in the Sophist with the help of the method of diaeresis; and so restated they can be shown to apply to particulars as well as to Forms.

The five stones here described and illustrated I found, along with a few other carved pieces, at Bignor Park, Sussex, in November, 1926, built into the walls of a garden house by the late owner, Mr. Johnstone. They were almost certainly brought over to England by Mr. John Hawkins, who travelled extensively in the East, Greece, and Italy, and afterwards, settling down at Bignor Park in 1806, lived there till his death in 1841. Incidentally, he had an important share with Samuel Lysons in excavating the Roman villa at Bignor between 1811 and 1819. I have failed to find any printed record of these stones, except of No. 3, and think that their belated publication may be of interest. The present owner, Lt.-Col. the Hon. Clive Bigham, has given me every facility for photographing, and making squeezes, casts, and rubbings of the inscriptions. In order to preserve the stones, he has had a wall specially built overlooking a garden, with a seat below; and in this wall they are effectively arranged.

At the Library of the University of Michigan there is a waxed diptych from the Fayoum, secured for the University by Professor Kelsey while in Egypt in 1919. The leaves of the diptych are of wood, about ll¼ inches long and 8¼ inches wide, slightly hollowed out and coated with black wax on the inner sides. These inner sides are shown in the photographs which accompany this article (Pls. X., XI.). In explanation of the photographs, it should be said that they were taken with the aid of a strong artificial light coming from the left at an angle of 45 degrees. This has caused the incisions and depressions on the wax to reflect the light in such a way that they seem to stand out above the general surface of the wax. Thus the white blotches which appear on the first leaf are really hollows and not projections, as they seem to be in certain lights. It should also be stated that a transcription was made of this leaf before the wax crumbled away, probably owing to unfavourable atmospheric conditions, along the edge of the crack in the lower part of the leaf.