There are in Scotland two ancient Athenian marble thrones which I had an opportunity of studying and photographing some years ago. Both have already been published, but not so fully as to make a fresh study of them superfluous. The more important is in the Earl of Elgin's collection at Broomhall, the other is at Biel, in East Lothian, and belongs to Colonel J. P. Nisbet Hamilton Grant.

An incomplete description of this marble was published in 1837 by von Stackelberg, he having seen it in Athens about 1810 on what he called ‘the site of the ancient Prytaneion’. His description was accompanied by neat engravings of two views of the throne and a view of each relief. After a lapse of time Michaelis produced further notes about it in his ‘Ancient Marbles in Great Britain’, Supplement I, in JHS V (1884) 146 ff. (with Plate XLVIII) under the title Marble throne with reliefs. He had little to say of the chair itself, much about the relief of the Tyrannicides together with a brief comment on the second relief and the inscription.

It will therefore be best to give a fresh description of the throne which can now be illustrated by new photographs taken while it was in the Edinburgh exhibition (Pl. VI, a; VII; VIII, c).

When I published my book on the Ancient Marbles in Great Britain (Cambridge, University Press, 1882), I was fully convinced that the catalogue there given would be susceptible of many corrections and supplements. But the hope I expressed in the preface, that I should be informed of marbles existing in private collections which might have escaped my notice by their owners or other competent persons, has completely failed; nor have I become aware of publications concerning this matter. Nevertheless, I cannot help thinking that there must be in Great Britain a good deal of hidden treasure of the kind, which would perhaps easier come to light if there were a place expressly destined to receive such communications. Now, there can be no doubt that no place would be more appropriate to the purpose than the Journal of Hellenic Studies. I have therefore ventured to propose to the Editors to open in this Journal a corner for storing up such supplements and corrections. As a first instalment, I here offer some notes which may begin the series, and which can be continued. May other lovers and students of classic art, especially in Great Britain, follow my example.

In this paper I propose to concentrate on some few features in the style of Aeschylus. A clear and very readable account of his style in general has already been given by Prof. Stanford in the book published recently, but in that he deals lightly with the things with which I propose to deal now, the variations of style between the plays and the reasons of them.

But before we come to them, a word about the reasons for the character of his style in general. That, as all readers know, is full of ‘grandiloquence,’ or as the Greeks called it, ὄγκος, of various kinds, mouth-filling words and bold mixed metaphors, and so on. Prof. Stanford suggests incidentally that this may be due to convention, but that is hardly likely. There is little ὄγκος in the very scanty fragments of his predecessors in Tragedy, and it is probable that Aeschylus elevated the style, as, according to tradition, he elevated the staging of the plays.

Archaeological work was carried out by the Italians in the Dodecanese up to September, 1943, and excavations were then still in progress both on Rhodes and Cos. On the Italian surrender at that date the Germans occupied the islands, and their restrictions on movement made all archaeological work impossible. During the British Military Administration numerous finds were made, but work was concentrated on preservation, and excavation was only undertaken when it was clearly essential to do so. In the Walled City of Rhodes the clearance of several large bombdamaged areas presents a golden opportunity to excavate into the levels of the Greek and Roman cities which have hitherto been all too well hidden by the medieval and Turkish buildings. It is to be hoped that something may be done to this end before the areas are covered over again by new buildings. I am indebted for most of the information contained in this article to Professor Morricone of the Instituto Storico-Archeologico di Rodi who also supplied Fig. 2.

In my first article on Pylos and Sphacteria I made the rash promise that in an early number of this Journal I would support my theories by documentary evidence. It is with shame that I realise that this is now two years ago. Various circumstances have delayed me. I have been unable to visit Greece again myself, and the friends who were kind enough to do the work for me were constantly baulked by the storminess of the place. Not only was it often impossible to set up a camera ὁπότε πνεῦμα ἐκ πόντου εἴη but even to reach Sphacteria at all. Of the Pylian boatmen, as I know from my own experience, it cannot be said that ἀφειδὴς ὁ κατάπλους καθέστηκε It is only as a patchwork of the results of three different expeditions that I am now in a position to publish a plan of the παλαιὸν ἔρυμα and a fairly complete collection of photographs. In the present article my business will be to act as showman to this series; I have little new to add, and, happily, no fresh opponent to meet. My collaborators have, I think, on practically every point on which they have expressed an opinion, given their support to my views.

Plotinus is, up to a point, a classical intellectualist in the manner of Aristotle, and, he would himself have certainly thought, of Plato. He professes, that is, to give an account of everything that is in any degree real in the universe (and even a kind of account of the unreal) which is certainly and unchangingly true and can be demonstrated to be so by rational processes. This account culminates in the description of an eternal realm of intelligible intellect which can be (and indeed really always is) our own, certainly and imperturbably possessed. This systematic account of reality, as is well known, breaks down, and we have to break out of it, in a very startling way at the top. Beyond the Platonic-Aristotelian Intellect-Intelligible, the world of real being which is Νοῦς and νοητά, lies the One or Good beyond being, which is neither intelligent nor intelligible. When we have completed our understanding of reality, we have to leave it all behind in order to find what turns out to be the only thing we want, the source of all values and the goal of all desire, which alone makes it worth the effort to attain to Νοῦς on the way, as it is the only reason why Νοῦς is there at all.

In a recent article J. J. Hall has argued that the mysterious πρηστῆρος αὐλός which figures in Anaximander's theory of the universe is the funnel-shaped body of a tornado or waterspout. In reviewing meteorological evidence he notes that lightning often accompanies such storms. Anaximander himself could have concluded that the funnel is actually full of fire and then could have drawn an analogy between fiery heavenly bodies seen through a hole in surrounding mist and internal fire seen through the open bottom of a cloud.

M. L. West has expressed doubt about this suggestion on the grounds that ‘a person in the uncomfortable situation of looking up such a funnel would not see fire.’ There are undoubtedly some difficulties in Hall's proposal, as he himself admits. But West's objection is oddly off the mark. What is initially at issue is what Anaximander believed to be true, not what is true.

Technicians at the J. Paul Getty Museum have kindly informed me that the ring turns out not to be of solid gold but rather a substantial gold-plate. Analysis has not yet been done, but the metal underneath is most probably bronze.

When I wrote my paper on this coinage which was published in this Journal (1911, pp. 151–160) I was unaware that a find of coins had then recently taken place at Vourla (Clazomenae), which at once added to our knowledge of the coins of the Revolt, and confirmed my attribution of them. This find has been published in the Revue Numismatique (1911, p. 60), by M. R. Jameson, who being unacquainted with my previous paper published in the Proceedings of the British Academy for 1908 (vol. iii. pp. 119–122) came independently to the same conclusions as myself and gave the find to the time of the Ionian Revolt. Such support as that of M. Jameson greatly strengthens my position.

Some years ago M. Miller began an article in this Journal with the statement, ‘Classical Greek kinship terminology, as it is used for example by Isaios, offers few difficulties of meaning in its terms.’ She then constructed a chart to show the ‘principal usages’. A review of the evidence indicates that this chart was probably based on Pollux’ discussion of kinship terms; at any rate it simply does not reflect the actual usage of Attic prose writers (the ten orators, Thucydides, Xenophon, Plato). For example the chart shows that the terms for uncle are μήτρως (maternal uncle) and πάτρως (paternal uncle). Neither of these terms is used in Attic prose at all, and there is only one occurrence in Attic poetry: μήτρωσιν (dative plural) in Euripides, referring to a maternal grandfather (plural for the singular) or maternal ancestors in general. The Attic term for uncle (either paternal or maternal) is simply θϵῖος. By way of comparison we may note that Herodotus always uses μήτρως and πάτρως, never θϵῖος. Again in the case of terms for one's male affines Miss Miller lists words which do not occur in Attic prose, πϵνθϵρός, πϵνθϵριδοῦς, and δαήρ, as well as γαμβρός, which occurs but once.