Already by Pindar's day the term ‘Boeotian pig’ was an old reproach, and indeed Boeotia was ‘a slow canton, as the nimble Attics would say, a glorious climate for eels, but a bad air for brains.’ My choice of title does not, however, stop there. Anyone brought up in Scotland or in the north of England will know the word ‘pig’ in another meaning than the usual, will know it as a pot, a jar, a crock, and the use of this meaning in the phrase ‘Pig and Whistle’ is perhaps more widely known. Porcelain also establishes a connexion between pigs and pottery.

Boeotian pottery is the Cinderella of the local schools, offering few of the usual attractive groups and classes of work which distinguish most other centres, and much of the potting and painting done in Boeotia is indeed poor or mediocre. It has, however, an interest of its own which makes it worth looking at—the interest one can take in seeing first-rate work copied and adapted for local use and in noting the influence of more brilliant craftsmen on their less well-endowed neighbours. Part of the trouble with looking at Boeotia is that we see Greek pottery through the eyes of Athens; we have come to judge Greek work by the standard of Athens and to consider that a different approach means necessarily an incompetent attempt at mimicking Athenian work. In many cases this is so, for the influence of Attic work on the less original centres was widespread and rarely good. Occasionally a Boeotian artist produced work which rivals Attic, but this is uncommon, and it is more likely that such an artist was an immigrant Athenian. We may also run into the danger of regarding ‘Boeotian’ as having the same range in meaning as ‘Athenian’, whereas we are really dealing with different local centres, e.g. Thebes, Tanagra, Coroneia, Thespiai. Thus we must not expect a continuous tradition of development along a single line, and this makes dating hazardous. Boeotian artists did produce local work which is distinctive, and they used the basic techniques of black-figure and red-figure in ways and combinations different from their neighbours; they also had their own variations with added white and purple. For shapes too they preferred a slightly different range and their own local variations.

How Cleon issued his fatal order to retreat from before Amphipolis does not seem to have been discussed by the commentators. But it would appear that he violated correct military procedure, and that this violation was in itself the cause of much of the subsequent confusion in the Athenian ranks. Thucydides says that both a signal and a verbal command were given—the signal conveying the definite meaning ‘Retire’, while the verbal command explained how it was to be done; and signal and command were issued together.

Signals are divided by Arrian into three groups. Verbal orders, being most readily intelligible, are preferable when they can be heard above the din of battle. Visual signals may be obscured in the dust and confusion. Finally, the trumpet is useful in overcoming ‘atmospheric disturbances’ (τὰ ἐκ τοῦ ἀέρος ἐμπόδια).

Visual signals are found in Greek warfare from at least the fifth century B.C. onwards, but they are generally prearranged, either to convey the news that some foreseeable event has actually occurred or to coordinate the operations of two bodies of troops who are widely separated but in sight of each other. Everybody concerned must be instructed in advance that after certain developments a certain signal will be displayed, upon which certain movements will be carried out. In this way Croesus in the Cyropaedia directs the evolutions of his vast army, Antigonus plans to coordinate the separate attacks at Sellasia, and Gorgidas ends the feigned retreat of the Sacred Band. But the signals used—the display of a red cloak or a white; the raising of a helmet on a spear—are all obviously arranged for the occasion. There does not seem to have been any code by which the commander of a Greek army, at any rate in the classical period, could convey orders to his men on the spur of the moment by visual signals. In the army described by Arrian each battalion (σύνταξις) had its own standard bearer, and the rank and file could at least have conformed to the movements of the standard.

The following inscriptions are some of the epigraphical results of three journeys in Eastern Asia Minor. The first two of these, in which Prof. W. M. Ramsay, Mr. D. G. Hogarth, the Rev. A. C. Headlam, and Mr. J. A. R. Munro took part, were made in the summers of 1890 and 1891, the third, which was organised by Mr. Hogarth and in which I took part myself, was made in the summer of 1894. The geographical results of these expeditions have been published in the Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society in the form of a paper by Messrs. Hogarth and Munro, entitled ‘Modern and Ancient Roads in Eastern Asia Minor’ (R.G.S. Suppl. Papers, iii. pp. 643–739) and a paper by myself ‘A Journey in the valley of the Upper Euphrates’ (Geographical Journal, viii. pp. 318–335 and 453–474).

Unlike much else in the Pentecontaetia, the chronology of the Samian War, its antecedents included, has apparently evoked such little critical interest that an almost casual treatment of the subject is observable in modern works. Nesselhauf, for example, annotated his brief discussion of the Samian War with a reference to Busolt and Beloch ‘for the details’. Each scholar provides a radically different chronology from the other. Indeed, the range of dates postulated by modern writers is remarkable considering the relatively small span of time, two years, in which the events appear to have unfolded. Beloch and the authors of ATL date the war between Samos and Miletus, which ultimately caused the revolt, in summer 441 B.C.; Busolt set the war in March-April 440 B.C., E. Meyer a shade earlier. Some scholars fail to specify the date (Nesselhauf, Meiggs). The beginning of the revolt itself has been placed in spring 440 B.C. by Sealey, among others; Gomme and Meiggs date it in early summer, Busolt, strangely, in early July. The direct cause of the revolt, the installation of the democracy at Samos (Thuc. i 115.3), is little discussed, much less fixed in date. The democracy was not established in a day: it therefore requires consideration in any chronological reconstruction. Finally, the end of the war has been variously set in late winter, early spring and early summer 439 B.C.

Such uncertainty is surprising since our evidence is abundant and also specific enough to allow us to make reasonably firm chronological estimates. Indeed, our fortunate possession of mutually independent data—the historical tradition and the monumental evidence—provides us with the opportunity to attempt precision in a degree usually beyond our expectations. However we may separately interpret Thucydides' relative chronology or the random evidence of the stones, these data, when taken in combination, yield knowledge greater than the sum of its parts.

In JHS lxxxi (1961) 67 f. Professor J. M. Cook put forward the engaging theory that the ΕΥΝ coins represent a pro-Spartan alliance formed in 391 and 390 during the resurgence of Spartan power in the Aegean. Without seeking to retrace the argument of my article in the Numismatic Chronicle xvi (1956), I wish to comment on certain points of this new theory.

First, the Theban coins—a difficulty which Cook formulates as follows. ‘The device on the obverse of the ΕΥΝ coins is of course a well-known Theban one; and though the Spartans, having no coinage of their own, could not contribute a Spartan coin-type, it may be objected that they would hardly have used a well-known Boeotian emblem if they were at war with Thebes at the time.’ Cook's solution is to propose that ‘it is quite possible that in 391 (assuming that to be the year of Thibron's departure for Asia) the Spartans may have considered that a treaty of alliance existed between themselves and the Thebans’.

Homer is universally praised for the clarity of his style. Yet even to sympathetic or perceptive readers, if their critical remarks really express their judgments, his poetical intention has been singularly opaque: invited to leave town by Plato, as if he were a bad ethical philosopher; lauded by Aristotle for his dramatic unity, as if he were a pupil of Sophocles; criticised by Longinus for composing an Odyssey without Iliadic sublimity; abused in more recent times by Scaliger as indecorous, irrational, improper and undisciplined, as if he were seeking (like Virgil) to portray the perfect exemplar of a renaissance prince; defended by Dacier as a sublime primitive, innocent of taste and art, who achieved perfection ‘par la seule force de son genie’. Some of these judgments are no more than the stock responses of their age to epic poetry. The critic regards the poems from his own point of view; he discovers what he expects to find; and he passes a judgment that illuminates the workings of his own mind but sheds nothing but darkness upon Homer's. The announcement, therefore, of a new criticism by Notopoulos and Lord, a criticism based on the results of comparative study and free from the old prejudices of Analysts and Unitarians, is an event of importance. It may even be the case that the despised anachronistic ‘singer’, that unwashed, mendicant figure lurking in the coffee houses of the Balkans, has something to say. But whatever he says, it will be applicable to Homer only by analogy, and will require verification.

In the following paper, certain reliefs are described and illustrated, which have been added in comparatively recent years to the collection of the British Museum.

(1) Votive relief of Zeus Stratios. This relief, which was acquired in the summer of 1914 from a private owner, is of exceptional interest as an addition to the Museum which contains the remains of the Mausoleum.

The relief is of white marble, and consists of a sculptured panel 35·5 cm. wide, and so far as extant, 21 cm. high. It is surmounted by a pediment, with acroterial ornaments. The whole subject measures 49 × 45 cm.

‘In 1868 it was in the court yard of a house at Piali (Tegea) in the neighbourhood of the temple of Athena Alea. It had been found on the spot with some other antiquities.’ So M. Foucart, who has recently discussed the relief at length in the Monuments Piot.

IF we are to believe all that Polybios tells us, then the world of Hellenistic Crete was a wretched place:

The Cretans are irresistible, both by land and by sea, when it comes to ambushes and piracy and the tricks of war, night attacks and all engagements undertaken with fraud; but when it comes to the face-to-face assault of phalanxes fighting on equal terms, they are base and craven-hearted….Money is honoured among them to such an extreme degree that the acquisition of it is thought to be not only necessary, but also most honourable. Generally speaking, the practice of disgraceful greed and acquisitiveness is so much the fashion there, that among the Cretans alone of all humankind no profit is considered shameful….Because of their congenital greed, they are engaged in constant upheavals, private and public, and murders and civil wars….Indeed, one would not find private customs more treacherous nor public enterprises more unjust (except in a few cases) than those of the Cretans….[In the year 181 BC] great troubles began in Crete, if indeed one can speak of a ‘beginning’ of troubles in Crete. For because of the unceasing nature of their civil wars and the excessive savagery of their treatment of one another, ‘beginning’ and ‘end’ are the same thing in Crete, and what seems to be a paradoxical saying of some individuals is there a consistently observable fact.

The nature of the bond connecting the work of Ammianus Marcellinus with the now fragmentary history of Eunapius of Sardis or with Zosimus' Νέα Ἱστορία is an old and intriguing problem rather more notable for the multiplicity than for the finality of its hypothetical solutions. The question arises out of the perception that Ammianus and Zosimus provide coincidental material in their accounts of Julian's Persian expedition. Eunapius figures in the equation because, as we generally assume, it was he whom Zosimus followed. Since all scholars but Dillemann are satisfied that these correspondences indubitably require some hypothesis of literary affiliation, all of the formal possibilities have one by one been tried. Sudhaus, whose investigation of the similarities proved influential, denied that Ammianus could have been used either by Zosimus or by his source (Eunapius); he affirmed instead that Ammianus and Eunapius must have been linked by their own use of a common source, namely, Oribasius, the physician of Julian and his companion on the Persian expedition.

This article presents a comprehensive study of the offence of trauma ek pronoias(intentional wounding) in Athenian law. Part I catalogues every occurrence of the words τραùμα and τιρώσκω in the Attic orators and concludes that the requisite physical element of trauma ek pronoias was the use of a weapon. Part II analyses all attested trauma lawsuits and concludes that the requisite mental element of the offence was a bare intent to wound. Part III addresses the procedural evidence for trauma ek pronoias and concludes that the action for trauma was a graphê, not a dikê. Two appendices discuss the use of the terms trauma and pronoia in Plato's Laws and Aristotle's Rhetoric (Appendix A) and a reference to trauma ek pronoias in Lucian's Timon (Appendix B).

This paper seeks to establish an intellectual context for the periplous of Pseudo-Skylax (probably written in or near Athens in 338 to ca. 337 BC). The unknown author is aware of the work of contemporary natural philosophers, including those in the post-Platonic Academy and those who were to form the Peripatos, especially Aristotle, Theophrastos and Dikaiarchos. Among known writers, Dikaiarchos is most likely to have written the periplous; but the case remains unproven. Doubts are also raised as to the validity of the so-called periplographic genre.

As some of the following notes bring to the illustration of Aeschylus material gathered from Persian sources, they may seem to require a word or two of preface.

When the Persae was produced, in 472 B.C., a large section of the Greek people was still in process of delivery from Persian rule, to which it had been subject for more than half a century. Persians may not have been very numerous on the Ionian seaboard and the islands, but they were the ruling class, and any eastern Greek would know quite well how they lived and how they behaved; some too had been privileged to study them at close quarters, for the Ionian ships in Xerxes' fleet carried as ἐπιβάται, Persians or Medes or Sacae (Her. 7. 184). In Athens itself, for many years before Plataea, Persia had been a subject of the most painful and pressing interest: every Athenian must have desired to know all about these Persians; and if he had no Ionian friends to ask, there were many of his countrymen who had visited Asia or even helped to sack Sardis, and the spoils of Marathon were before his eyes. After Plataea, if the desire to know was less pressing, the opportunity of knowledge was even greater, for Athenian fleets were busy in the work of liberation. And the very production of this play proves that the interest was alive.

So much has already been written about the battle of Marathon that it is only with great hesitation that the present writer ventures to make another contribution to the subject. But it seems that in spite of the various conjectures and explanations that have been advanced, there is still a solution of the shield signal which has escaped notice hitherto, and which simplifies the story.

For the general scheme of the battle this paper follows in the main the first reconstruction by Mr. J. A. R. Munro (J.H.S. xix. p. 185), with which Dr. Grundy is in substantial agreement (The Great Persian War): the essential feature in this version is, of course, the division of the Persian forces at Marathon after a delay of several days. It is only in the interpretation of the shield signal that any claim to originality can be made, and the view of the signal here given is based on the acceptance of the Herodotean story that a shield was flashed, and that it was flashed when the barbarians were already in their ships.

The district which forms the subject of the following remarks is that which we know from Strabo, as well as from numismatic evidence, to have formed the kingdom of Olba, ruled over in ancient times by a family of priest-kings, priests of Jove, dynasts of Olba, and toparchs of Lalassis and Kennatis. Having made a careful exploration of this district, and collected therein the inscriptions which are to follow, I propose to treat the subject-matter under four distinct heads, into which the ground traversed naturally divides itself:—

First, the ruins of the three great coast towns between the mouth of the Lamas gorge and the plain of Selefkeh, namely Augusta-Sebaste or Elaeussa, Corycos, and Pseudo-Corasion.

Secondly, the first plateau above the sea, studded with ruined towers and villages, and chiefly remarkable for the three great caves or depressions in the ground, one dedicated to the Corycian Jove, a second to the Olban Jove, and a third alluded to only by Pomponius Mela as Typhoneus.

This paper is the result of some six weeks' local study of the dialects of the Greek-speaking villages of Cappadocia and of the village of Silli near Konia in the summer of 1909. The account below of the more important books shows that a good deal has already been written on the subject, but the material is very scattered and incomplete, and does not do more than suggest a great many unanswered questions, nor does it touch more than a few of the villages. Besides giving an account of the dialects, I have therefore tried to smooth the way for future workers by collecting and setting in order this already published material.

οὐ παλαιὸν εὕρημα λύχνος. ‘The lamp is not an ancient invention.’ The words of Athenaeus (15, 700e) have often been quoted. The lamp was familiar to Minoans and Myceneans, but it died out, and does not reappear till the seventh century. In the dark age that intervened, the Greeks, as Athenaeus goes on to say, used the light of the torch and of other pieces of wood: φλογὶ δʾοἱ παλαιοὶ τῆς τε δᾳδὸς καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ξύλων ἐχρῶντο. There is only one mention of a lamp in Homer: in Odyssey 19, 33–4 Athene, unseen, lights Odysseus and Telemachos with a lamp: ‘Pallas Athene went in front with a golden lamp, making a very fine light’:

According to a modern writer, ‘the lamp is significantly of gold, and in the hands of Athena, it is therefore something rare and costly, or to speak historically, something new’: but I confess I cannot see how this follows from the text.

1. A Bronze statue of Athena, armed, stood in the Forum of Constantine at Constantinople. This fact is witnessed by three well-known passages:

(a) Arethas, bishop of Caesareia (ninth to tenth centuries), commenting on a passage of Aristeides, wrote: ‘I believe this (i.e., the Pheidian χαλκῆ Ἀθηνᾶ of Aristeides, Κατὰ τῶν Ἐξορχουμένων, p. 408) is the one set up in the Forum of Constantine, at the porch of the council-chamber, or senate, as they call it now; facing it, on the right-hand side of the porch as you go in, is Thetis, the ⟨mother⟩ of Achilles, with a crown of crabs. The common folk of to-day call the Athena “Earth” and Thetis “Sea”, being misled by the marine monsters on her head.’ (Cf. Kougeas in Laographia IV, 1913, 240, 241.)

(b) Cedrenus (eleventh to twelfth centuries), after a note on the senate on the north side of the Forum, continues: ‘On the open square of the Forum stand two statues; to the west, that of Athena of Lindus, wearing a helmet and the monstrous Gorgon's head and snakes entwined about her neck (for so the ancients used to represent her image); and to the east, Amphitrite, with crabs' claws on her temples, which was also brought from Rhodes.’ (Cedrenus, ed. Bonn., I, p. 565; cf. Kougeas, loc. cit. sup.)

All modern commentators are agreed that the account of the campaign of Marathon left us by Herodotus is often inconsistent, and that as often it is difficult to reconcile it with probabilities. In seeking to disentangle fact from fable in the story of Marathon we have a harder task than in the case of the story of Xerxes' invasion of Greece, for we have much less material at our disposal, and the dilemma of deciding what to accept and what to reject of Herodotus' story is very real. There are, however, some guides through this dilemma. Herodotus wrote with the greater event of Xerxes' invasion between him and the campaign of Marathon. Persia had ceased to be the terror to Greece which she had been in the year 491 B.C., and the memory of Athenian fears and hesitations had been obliterated by pride of achievement. It is some guide in the process of selection from Herodotus' story to imagine the kind of tales of Marathon he would be likely to have heard, when making his inquiries, and the kind of event which would be forgotten or concealed.

A number of individual passages in Rhesus, a tragedy whose attribution to Euripides has repeatedly been questioned, evince extensive familiarity with institutions and mentalities prevalent in fourth-century Macedonia. The paper argues that Rhesus was composed and produced for a Macedonian performance context, probably between the late 350s and the late 330s BC, by an author who, while familiar with Athenian tragedy and conceivably of Athenian origin, may have lived in the court of Philip II or Alexander III.

One of the Dura parchments (Dura Perg. 23)—a sale of a slave in 180 A.D.—recently transcribed and translated by C. Bradford Welles in his preliminary report on the Dura documents of private character shews a very elaborate and unusual date. First comes the consular date and the name of the emperor, then the date according to the Seleucid era and the month, and finally the place and the municipal date: l. 4 ff. ἐν Εὐρώπῳ τῇ πρὸς ᾿Αραβίᾳ ἐπὶ ἱερέωυ Διὸς μὲν Λυσανίου τοῦ Ζηνοδότου τοῦ ῾Ηλιοδώρου ᾿Απόλλωνος δὲ Θεοδώρου τοῦ ᾿Αθηνοδότου τοῦ ᾿Αρτεμιδώρου, τῶν δὲ προγόνων ῾Ηλιοδώρου τοῦ Διοκλέους τοῦ ῾Ηλιοδώρου, βασιλέως δὲ Σελεύκου Νικ[ά] τορος Δανύμου τοῦ Σελεύκου τοῦ Δανύμου.

Dating a document, not only by consuls, the imperial year and the year according to a provincial or municipal era, but also by eponymous priests of the municipal gods was not the common practice at Dura in Roman times. We have now a rather large and representative group of various private documents found at Dura, some of them with the date completely preserved. In no one of them is mention of the eponymous priests found. The date consists of the name of the consuls, the name of the emperor or emperors, and the number of the year according to the Seleucid era. Sometimes when the emperors are themselves consuls the second step is omitted. Nor is such a dating by the priests very common in other parts of the Roman Empire. In contracts or similar documents found in Egypt in most cases the imperial date only is used.