Professor G. E. Rizzo, in his Saggi Preliminari su L'Arte della Moneta nella Sicilia Greca—a book beautifully produced, and ennobled by Bar Pennisi's wonderful photographs—has done me the honour of quoting several passages from a lecture delivered before the British Academy in 1934, and published in volume XX of its Proceedings under the title Late Archaic and Early Classical Greek Sculpture in Sicily and South Italy.

Since his quotations embody some variants from what I wrote, he will perhaps allow me to correct the more ingenious, leaving aside those where only his English is at fault and any reader interested in accurate scholarship can compare my original text with his rendering of it. But after disposing of this personal matter, and ignoring the frequent abuse which serves to add bulk and save reasoning, I shall quickly pass to a consideration of certain features of his archaeological method; not doubting the prolonged, profound and silent studies here proclaimed, but attempting to judge them rather by their results than by their advertisement.

To students of Frankish Greece the church at Karditza in Boeotia is one of the most interesting in the country, because it contains an inscription referring to an important Frankish personage, Antoine le Flamenc, and dating from the fatal year 1311, which witnessed the overthrow of the Frankish Duchy of Athens in the swamps of the Boeotian Kephissós. Buchon had twice published this inscription; but, as I was anxious to know in what condition it was and to have an exact facsimile of it, I asked Mr. D. Steel, the manager of the Lake Copaïs Company, to have a fresh copy taken.

Plate V represents a small Attic bell-krater in the collection of Mr. Edward Armytage, who has kindly permitted its publication. The subject is novel: it appears to be the arrival in Attica of Theseus, and shews in detail a close correspondence with our main literary source, the seventeenth ode of Bacchylides. The two youths on the left are the two companions of Theseus, Peirithoos and Phorbas—δύο (F)οι φῶτε μόνους ὰμαρτεῖν λέγει (l.c. line 45). They are in travelling costume, booted and cloaked, wearing ephebic fillets and bearing pairs ofspears—ξεστοὺς δὲ δύ᾿ ἐν χέρεσς᾿ ἀκοντας (1. 49, though said of Theseus himself, not of his comrades).

It is a well-known fact, of which proof in recent years has not seldom been forthcoming, that the sea, on the rare occasions on which it has revealed to us its archaeological secrets, has nearly always given us beautiful works, for the most part in bronze, far better preserved than the discoveries on dry land. That, however, it should one day have presented us with what is certainly one of the most perfect works of just the most obscure period of Greek art in the fifth century B.C., belonging to those years of the Pentekontaetia from which we should have so much desired to have an original statue, was beyond even the most optimistic of hopes. Such is the principal find made in the sea off Artemision in Euboea in October 1928 (Pl. VII).

There is no doubt that we have before us the figure of a god. That is shown not merely by its height (ca. 2·10 m.), but also by the character and spirit incorporated in it. Its stance, the manner of its movement (a movement which has also at the same time an inner balance and poise), various details of the body and the hair—all show that it is a work belonging to about 460 B.C. It is easy for us to distinguish figures spiritually and stylistically analogous on other monuments of this period (cf. e.g. a Poseidon on an amphora at Würzburg: Gerhard, Auserlesene Vasenbilder, xi. 1).

Cyprus has in many ages been famed for artistic achievement of many kinds, but the excellence of its mural painting from the twelfth to the sixteenth century is only now being recognised. The Asinou frescoes, probably the most remarkable of all, have recently been described, and elsewhere in the island are many others deserving attention not merely as documents but as monuments of art. Among them are the paintings here reproduced, about seven-eighths of the collection in the Theotokos church near Galata. When visiting it in October 1932 I was unable fully to note all its decoration and other features, but the present incomplete account may perhaps encourage experts to study these well-preserved examples of work in the Byzantine tradition executed by Greek artists during the period of Venetian rule (1489–1570). The church (Fig. 1) stands isolated in a grove of trees beside a mountain brook on the left of the main road leading to Galata about half a mile below that village. No houses or farm buildings are near it, but about eighty yards away is a similar and larger church (Hagia Paraskeue) erected in 1502.

I should like to call attention to an attitude in some of the Attic stelai which has attraced little, if any, notice, while its meaning, so far as I know, has met with no consideration.

The best example of the attitude is to be found in the beautiful Plate XXIV. of Mr. Percy Gardner's ‘Sculptured Tombs of Hellas’ (Conze, Pl. LXXVIII). Mr. Gardner describes the sitting figure as ‘a lady stretching out both hands towards a matron who stands before her,’ certainly an inadequate description of a peculiar attitude. Conze, in his great work ‘Die Attischen Grabreliefs,’ says that the standing figure with the left hand takes hold of the right arm of the sitter on the under side (unterfasst). But this seems to me to miss the point. It is not the right arm but the right wrist of the sitter that is laid hold of. The forefingers of the standing figure are extended along the forearm and the thumb is raised at the wrist, so that the sitter's right hand lies softly in a sort of couch. From an artistic point of view the attitude is a remarkable one, being unlike that of any of the other best known stelai.

In the last number of the Hellenic Journal Professor Burrows has once more attacked Pylos and Sphakteria, this time with the aid of certain allies from the Peloponnese and a whole battery of photographs. I am, I confess, loth to dye this ink-stained field a deeper hue, and I have certainly no intention of sending friends of mine to Pylos with a view to reviving a controversy which has gone far enough. At the same time I do not wish to appear to undervalue the evidence of Messrs. Carr Bosanquet, Crowfoot, and Lindsay, though it is not of a very decisive character. I should therefore like to point out, as briefly as possible, its true bearing, and in doing so I have the satisfaction of not having to treat it as hostile, though brought into court by the other side.

The treasures of modern art preserved in Chatsworth House are well known to writers on the history of art. But of the small and choice collection of works of ancient sculpture contained in this fine mansion, the property of the Duke of Devonshire, information has up to now been almost entirely lacking to archaeologists. I myself have to thank the Duke's librarian, Professor Arthur Strong, for calling my attention to it, and for the opportunity of inspecting the collection in the autumn of 1895.

A description of the most important work, the bronze head of Apollo, an original of about B.C. 460, appeared in my book, Intermezzi, kunstgeschichtliche Studien (Leipzig, 1896), Plates 1–4, pp. 3 f. An interesting Roman relief has been published by E. Petersen in the Römische Mittheilungen (1899), Plate 8, pp. 222 f. I have also written a short notice of the whole collection in the treatise Ueber Statuenkopieen im Alterthum, I. (1896), p. 26. That I am now in a position in this paper to enter into more minute details with the help of photographs I owe to the kindness of Prof. Arthur Strong, (who was good enough to supervise the taking of the photographs), as well as of the editors of this Journal, to all of whom I must express my warmest thanks.

In Vol. LXXV (1955) of the JHS I suggested that the determination of the angular diameters of the sun and the moon ascribed to Thales (Diog. Laertius I. 24) may have been obtained by angular measurement, not as is generally supposed by time-measurement. However, the question of the precise technical method that may have been employed was left open. To measure a very small angle with any degree of accuracy is obviously not easy; and a combination of actual measurement with calculation is probably necessary. In what follows I describe a method of measuring very small angles: whether this was the method employed in obtaining the result ascribed to Thales I do not know; all I can claim is that it presupposes neither mathematical knowledge nor mathematical techniques which could not have been at the disposal of an early Greek philosopher-mathematician.