The inscription published below was discovered in June, 1893, built into a house in the small village of Pelen, which lies in the interior of the peninsula of Myndos, in the upper valley of a stream flowing southwards past Episkopi into the Gulf of Kos (Adm. Charts 1546, 1604); but which is not marked in any map hitherto. The stone is a block of the local grey limestone, and was much encrusted with whitewash; after a little cleaning, however, the reading became sufficiently clear. The inscription came from the ruins of a large church which stands about two miles east of Pelen, on the ridge between the valley of Pelen and that of Ghiöl to the east of it, at the point where the mountain road traverses the hills from Faréliah towards Budrum. The church is built upon the ruins of a Karian or Hellenic building, of large roughly squared stones, with the broad draft down the angles which is characteristic of the pre-Mausolean masonry of this neighbourhood. The site is much overgrown with thick shrubs, but enough can be made out to confirm the evidence of the inscription that this is the site of the temple of Apollo Telmisseus. We did not, however, find any other traces of inscriptions.

By the courtesy of Mr P. A. Brunt whose admirable paper now published (p. 27 ff.) I had the pleasure of reading at an early stage, and of the Editor in allowing me at Mr Brunt's suggestion to add a short note here, I am enabled to write about a point on which I was unable to follow Mr Brunt in his interpretation. It concerns the date at which Oriental cavalry was first introduced by Alexander into the hipparchies of Companion Cavalry, which (following Mr Brunt) I now believe to have become eight in number by a reorganisation of the year 328.

About the Oriental cavalry actually named by Arrian (at the Hydaspes battle) as participating in the invasion of India there is no disagreement between Mr Brunt and myself: the Arachosians and the Parapamisadae horse, the Bactrians, Sogdians, Scythians and Dahae are mentioned by Arrian in terms that show clearly that they were not included in the hipparchies at this time but were serving as separate units (A. v 11.3, 12.2: Brunt, 43 f.). These people, however, represent only a part of the Oriental cavalry forces available to Alexander, if he chose to use them, at any time after (say) early 330 B.C. for the central satrapies of the Persian Empire (Susiana, Persis and Media), and after the end of 330 for the satrapies occupied with little resistance during that year (‘Parthia’, Tapuria with Hyrcania, Areia and Drangiane). These Western or Central Iranians are never named by our sources as having participated in any of Alexander's campaigns, though the Far Eastern Iranians (Bactrians, Sogdians, etc.) are so mentioned by Arrian at the Hydaspes battle, and indeed as early as the year 328 (A. iv 17.3, Bactrians and Sogdians only).

The very term ‘third magistrate’ is really a misnomer, as Margaret Thompson has well argued. The men whose names appear as subsidiary signatures on New Style issues were probably contributors to the cost of this annual liturgy—often relatives, friends or political associates of the two men principally concerned. I would like to examine a few of them closely here.

The chronology of the coinage is now fortunately very tight from c. 140 B.C., mainly thanks to Margaret Thompson's magnificent publication. It is true that she herself wanted to move back the isssue of King Mithradates/Aristion from 87/6 B.C. to c. 120 B.C.—and with it the whole coinage—but the case against this is virtually overwhelming. The arguments surely need not be laboured here. One modification, however, should be made in the ‘low chronology’. I earlier followed Lewis in regarding the Apellikon/Gorgias issue as a fixed point in 88/7 B.C. It is certainly the last of the long series of ‘three magistrates’ issues, after which the mint continued with the King Mithradates gold and silver. But I had overlooked a grave historical difficulty.

The Peripatetic philosopher Athenion returned to Athens some time during the summer of 88 B.C., when Mithradates was already master of Asia Minor and threatening Thrace and Macedonia. He promptly had himself elected hoplite general, secured similar commands for his friends and within a few days established a tyranny. One of his friends—Apellikon of Teos—was put in charge of the fleet. With this he was despatched against Delos, in order to secure the island and its treasures for an Athens dedicated to Mithradates' cause. The surprise raid was a fiasco owing to the commander's incompetence and the resolution of the Italian community on Delos. Almost all Apellikon's force of 1000 men were killed or captured, his equipment destroyed. He was lucky to slip away to safety himself.

The present paper is intended as a brief summary of acquisitions of the British Museum during the past ten years or so, which may be assigned to the Mycenaean period, and which have not as yet been published. The results of the Museum excavations at Curium and Salamis (Cyprus) in 1895–6 are not included, being reserved for publication elsewhere, and the gold treasure acquired in 1892 has been fully described by Mr. Arthur Evans in the Journal, vol. xiii. p. 195 ff. In the case of the vases the terminus post quem is afforded by the publication of Furtwaengler and Loeschcke's Mykenische Vasen in 1886; for the gems, by the issue of the Museum Catalogue in 1888.

The most convenient classification for a description of this kind is perhaps a geographical one, but as in some cases the provenience of the objects is unknown or indefinite, I have thought it better to group them under the heading of material, with a geographical sub-classification, so far as such is practicable.

The National Museum at Athens houses many fine vases of the late black-figure and early red-figure technique, as well as the Acropolis fragments, but the display cases which perhaps attract no less attention are those containing the small Attic black-figured lekythoi. The paintings on these vases, making no claim to artistic pretensions and produced in answer to local burial needs, often echo impressions the vase-painters received from the theatre or from figures in monumental painting. It is worth noting that they were inspired not only by well-known myths but also by stories of popular belief which the painters of large vases scorned to represent. The large vases were made and painted for the Italian and Etruscan markets and had to be decorated with impressive themes. On the small lekythos which concerns us here (Plate XVIII, 1–2), we meet a unique theme which raises a host of questions and leads to a wealth of conjectures.

The picture is framed by two columns with Doric capitals. The right-hand column, which is the better drawn, spreads to a sort of base, and the painter must have imagined both columns to be of wood. Of the three female figures on either side of the weird figure in the middle, the one on the right, dressed in chiton and himation, turns her head to the left, whilst her feet point to the right. She extends her right arm imperiously, palm open, towards the central figure. The latter is distinguished from the others by the fact that her feet do not appear beneath her himation which hangs below them. Her coiffure differs from that of the others, as we shall see later.

Lands and peoples on the northern edge of an empire never fail to arouse curiosity; and their first entry into history exhibits sharp contrasts. The Hyrcani made a notable impact when Alexander in the year 330 invaded their country.

Hyrcania permits a fairly close definition. It occupied the southeastern corner of the Caspian (a sea which frequently took that name). To the north was the wide steppe, inhabited by the Dahae, on the east the region Margiana. To the south Hyrcania extended into the Elburz mountains; and under the last Achaemenid it formed one satrapy with Parthyene, its neighbour on the southeast. Belonging to the narrow neck between the Caspian and the Salt Desert, Hyrcania lay beside the highroad from Ecbatana to Bactra. Hence a vital link for successive imperial powers.

Von Jan first drew attention to the etymological play in 14, an allusion to the derivation of Ἀπιδανῆες from ἀ-πίνειν: at the birth of Zeus Arcadia was yet waterless, as we learn from 18 ff. The play gains added point from 40 f., where the Peloponnesians thirst no longer: παλαιότατον δέ μιν (Neda) ὕδωρ/νἱωνοὶ πίνουσι Λυκαονίης ἄρκτοιο.

Athenaeus quotes from Satyrus a passage in which is described the remarkable facility shown by Alcibiades in adapting his way of life to his environment (FHG III, 160 = Athen. XII, 534b): I. The Archaeological Report, λέγεται, φησίν, ὅτι ἐν Ἰωνίᾳ μὲν ὢν ‹Ἰώνων› ἐφαίνετο τρυφερώτερος, ἐν Θήβαις δὲ σωμασκῶν καὶ γυμναξόμενος τῶν Θηβαίων αὐτῶν μᾶλλον Βοιώτιος, ἐν Θετταλίᾳ δὲ ἱπποτροφῶν καὶ ἡνιοχῶν τῶν Ἀλευαδῶν ἱππικώτερος, ἐν Σπάρτῃ δὲ καρτερίαν καὶ ἀφέλειαν ἐπιτηδεύων ἐνίκα τοὺς Λάκωνας, ὑπερῆρεν δὲ καὶ τὴν τῶν Θρᾳκῶν ἀκρατοποσίαν. This chameleonlike quality of Alcibiades is also stressed by other writers, who, however, in cataloguing the localities in which he displayed his adaptability, differ somewhat from one another and from Satyrus. Plutarch (Alcib. 23, 5) mentions Sparta, Ionia, Thrace, the court of Tissaphernes; in another passage (Mor. 52e) Athens, Sparta, Thrace, the court of Tissaphernes; Nepos (Alcib. 11, 2) gives Athens, Thebes, Sparta, Thrace, the Persian Empire; Aelian (V.H. IV, 15) gives Sparta, Boeotia, Thessaly, the court of Pharnabazus. Now Athenaeus, in the passage where he quotes the above fragment of Satyrus, is evidently following a collection of anecdotes about Alcibiades (XII, 534–5, where he cites several other authors), and very probably Plutarch, Nepos, and Aelian derive their material from similar compilations, which were extensively used by writers of the Roman period; but, since florilegia on Alcibiades must have been numerous, it is not to be assumed that all are copying from the same florilegium.

The author discusses an inscription of the late fourth or early third century BC carved on a bronze plaque found in the first excavations at Dodona, on which a Zakynthian, by name Agathon, records a link of proxeny between himself and his family and the Epirote koinon of the Molossians, through Kassandra, the Trojan prophetess. The plaque is decorated by a prominent phallus with testicles, which the author interprets as referring to the continuity, past and future, of the γενεά of Agathon. Other explanations of the whole piece have been proposed, and the present essay is intended only to explore the possibility of this interpretation.

This article offers a close reading of Pindar's lacunose fr. 140b S.-M. and explores the evidence it includes for Pindar's contributions to contemporary debates and polemics in late sixth- and early fifth-century musical culture concerning, among other things, harmonics, tonal ranges, instrumentation and the boundaries between different genres. By reading the contents of the fragment against the backdrop of other works from the period that similarly engage in these issues and the later revisionary accounts of the questions first raised by the author-musicians of the early classical age, I show how the diction, imagery and structure of the work are designed to position Pindar as one among the current choral innovators. In the discussion's final part, I address the question of the genre to which the piece belongs and propose some fresh ways of addressing this still outstanding matter. At several points, the article also considers some relevant visual evidence.

It is argued that Athenagoras, Leg. 17, draws on Pausanias 1.26.4, and may join Aelian, Pollux, Philostratus and Longus in the list of possible readers of the periegete.

In April 1898 at Ceglie near Bari there was discovered a large tomb, the principal contents of which consisted of a number of vases, some entire but most of them in a fragmentary condition, which were later acquired by the Taranto Museum, where they now are. Two of these vases, both large volute kraters, on account of the great interest of the subjects and of the general excellence of their composition and drawing, are of the highest importance for the study of early South Italian pottery and it seems surprising that they have remained so long unpublished, despite an ever-increasing amount of literature about them. One, published earlier in the present year, depicts (a) seated Dionysus surrounded by his followers and (b) on the upper register, Perseus terrifying the silens with the Gorgon's head, and below, dancers at the festival of the Karneia. The other vase (Plates VIII, IX) is even more richly figured as it has separate scenes on the neck as well. Its obverse shews (i) a scene from the fight between the Centaurs and Lapiths, (ii) the birth of Dionysus; and the reverse, (i) Herakles served by silens, (ii) an Amazonomachy. Two are subjects common in the repertory of the vase painter, two are rare.

§ 1. Introductory. The history of Euboia during its occupation by the Latins is, according to Mr. Freeman, ‘the most perplexed part of the perplexed Greek history of the time.’ If we turn for information on the subject to Finlay, our one English authority on the period, we find no attempt at a consecutive account of it, merely some allusions; the history of Negroponte is a missing chapter in Finlay, which the present paper is an attempt to supply. It is also hoped that it will help to clear up some of the perplexities which beset the subject.

Before Hopf the history of this island was almost a blank. Historical investigations concerning the Franks in Romania may be divided into three periods, represented by Ducange in the seventeenth century, Buchon 1825–1846, and Hopf 1850–1870. Buchon's publication of the (with which Ducange indeed had become acquainted, but not until his Histoire de Constantinople sous les Empereurs français had been published), his discovery of the Livre de la Conqueste in Brussels, the new documents, treaties and diplomas, which he brought to light, opened a new era and stimulated a fresh study of the ‘perplexed’ history. Nothing was required now but German diligence and exhaustiveness to ransack archives and fill up the gaps, and German accuracy to correct the slips made by that französische Nonchalance of which Hopf says even Buchon was occasionally (stellenweise) guilty.

The well-known fragment of a musical score of a chorus from Euripides' Orestes, published in 1892 by K. Wessely was dated by its first editor to the first century after Christ. Wessely, who had no dated palaeographical material for comparison, based his dating on external factors. ‘The scrap was taken (presumably when unpacked in Vienna, though this is not specifically mentioned) from a layer of papyri which belong to the first century A.D. (the Hadrianic period at the latest), a judgement that I can confirm by means of the dates on some of the pieces should the letter forms not be thought sufficient indication.’ Allowing for a certain period of years to elapse before a literary work was set aside, Wessely concluded that ‘the evidence permits a date in the time of Augustus’. This conclusion seemed to gain force from a suggestion that the papyrus was contemporary with Dionysius of Halicarnassus' musical score of the Orestes (de comp. verb. 11), and has been generally accepted. Nevertheless, the dating is at least two centuries too late. The character of the hand is to a large extent concealed by the photograph (and subsequently apparently it has always been this reproduction that has been reproduced) which accompanied the editio princeps. Seen in the original, however, as I was privileged to see it in the summer of 1955, its unmistakable Ptolemaic character thrusts itself on the attention. The mere size of the letters, especially their width, the coarse cut of the writer's pen which can only make thick strokes, the unnecessary horizontal link-strokes found at the top of a vertical hasta (seen clearly in the μ of μέγας, l. 2) are among such unmistakable stylistic features. Moreover, some of the letters have a characteristic Ptolemaic shape—α, κ, λ, χ, and above all τ, which begins with a bold initial upstroke on the left, υ which has a long, shallow bowl and a leftward curve at the foot of its vertical; to which one is tempted to add the archaic square ε of the musical notation. Among examples of Ptolemaic calligraphy this hand must take a high place. I know of no precisely similar dated handwriting, for dated literary hands of this period are still rare. But a number of similarities can be seen in any one of the following non-literary texts: P. Cairo Zeno 59532 (epitaph) and 59533 (music), and P.S.I. 379 (letter of 249/8 B.C.), all from the Zenon archive and to be dated about 250 B.C.; P. Teb. 811, a smaller and rougher hand of 165 B.C.; P. London 44, a good documentary hand of 161 B.C. which I should judge later than the Orestes. 260 B.C. and 150 B.C. are the extreme limits between which I would assign the date of this papyrus, with a preference for about 200 B.C. On this revised view of its dating, the Orestes fragment is even on external grounds to be reckoned among the oldest surviving pieces of Greek music, only the Zenon scrap (P. Cairo Zenon 59533) being perhaps older.

This article treats the figure of the fox that appears as one of the members of the embassy sent by the animals to Zeus in Callimachus' second Iamb. By exploring previous appearances of the fox in the poetic repertoire, I identify a series of Archaic and early Classical works that Callimachus uses by way of ‘intertexts’, and argue that the Hellenistic author draws on the animal's place within the interconnected iambic and fable traditions that inform his poem. Already visible in these earlier texts, and anticipating Callimachus, is a concern with literary as well as ethical polemics.

Persian troops denominated by Greek writers as κάρδακες appear infrequently in our sources for Achaemenid history, though they are recorded as having a substantial presence at Issus (333 BC). A comprehensive study of these troops is lacking and is of potentially great importance to our understanding of the military system of the Achaemenids, particularly after Xerxes' failed enterprise against Greece, and in light of the 10,000 Immortals' general disappearance from the literary record. Whether they were (a) light or heavy infantry and (b) mercenaries or native Persians has long been the subject of debate, with no particularly conclusive results. This study dismisses Strabo as a useful source on the κάρδακες, and attempts to reconcile the divergent source traditions of Arrian, who describes them as , and Callisthenes (recorded by Polybius), who writes of Persian πελτασταί at Issus. From an investigation of a wide variety of texts, together with lexicographical sources, it is possible to conclude that the hitherto enigmatic κάρδακες were general-purpose infantry not dissimilar to Iphicratean πελτασταί, and that, collectively, they constituted an ethnically diverse infantry force.

(i) Any attempt to track down this ubiquitous but evasive people must start from the vestiges of Pelasgians in the Homeric epics, which will here be treated as a single authority on the assumption that, whatever may be the secret of their composition, they preserve a consistent record of authentic traditions of the Heroic Age.

The Trojan Catalogue (Il. ii. 811 seqq.), having put the Trojans of Ilium of course at the head of its list, recites the contingents from their kinsfolk and nearest neighbours. To most of them it assigns a seat—to the Trojans led by Pandarus Zelea and the valley of the Aesepus; to the men under the sons of Merops the coast of the Propontis west of the Aesepus with the Adrastean plain and doubtless the valley of the Granicus; to the followers of Asius the Hellespontine shore down to the Narrows below Abydus and including Sestus on the opposite side of the straits. But the Dardanians, next after the Ilians on the list, are left without a home. Dardanus on the Hellespont south of Abydus is impossible; it has far too exiguous an ager, is never mentioned in the Homeric poems, and is incompatible with the indications to be found in them. We must seek Dardania elsewhere.

The starting-point for the following discussion is the stele from the Esquiline (Plate XI.). We remark first its stylistic relationship with a series of terracottas from Locri Epizephyrii, many of which have been published by Quagliati in Ausonia, iii. 1908, p. 136 sqq. and by Orsi in Bollettino d'Arte, iii. 1909, p. 406 sqq. and p. 463 sqq., while there are other examples in various museums. For style, we may compare particularly Aus. l.c. Figs. 9, 33, 44; Boll. l.c. Fig. 16, and Fig. 1 (=B.M. Terracottas, B488, Pl. XXI.): for subject Aus. l.c. Fig. 1. If this connexion can be established, the consequences are of importance, for the stele from the Esquiline has often been compared in style with the Ludovisi Throne, and the Ludovisi Throne involves the Boston reliefs. Before examining this comparison we must mention yet another work which has been brought into relation with these monuments, the so-called Ino-Leucothea relief of the Villa Albani. Its connexion with the Esquiline stele and with some of the terra-cottas is, in fact, equally striking. With the stele it has in common, in the seated figure the emphatically linear treatment of the himation, that is to say, a tendency to draw rather than to model; and the identical device for rendering the softer material in the standing figure (a device also used in the terra-cottas, while the line of the front of the thigh is indicated through the drapery in the same way. In short, it is fair to say that if a reduced copy of the Albani relief had been unearthed among such terra-cottas as Aus. l.c. Figs. 4, 15, 44, 45, 46, 58, and Boll. l.c. Fig. 43, to mention only a few examples, we should not notice any incongruity of style, and the subject in some cases is curiously similar.