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.

The Greeks had a proverb which compared talkative persons to ‘the gong at Dodona.’ Menander (342–291 B.C.) in his Arrephoros made one of his characters remark:

‘Give this creature Myrtile the merest touch or simply call nurse, and there's no end to her talking. To stop the gong at Dodona, which they say sounds all day if a passer-by lays a finger on it, would be an easier job than to stop her tongue; for it sounds all night as well.’

A fragment of Kallimachos (c. 310–c. 240 B.C.) implies the same proverb:

… ‘lest it might be said that I was but awakening the echoes of the bronze at Dodona.’

The term Proto-Attic, which is our equivalent to the German Frühattisch, and is formed on the analogy of Proto-Corinthian, is of course only a loose definition, intended to apply exclusively to a small class of Attic vases which fall between the periods represented on the one hand by the Dipylon, and on the other by the vases of the stereotyped Attic black-figure style.

For this later limit the François vase would naturally be the typical representative, were it not that, as we now know, the white on that vase is laid direct upon the clay instead of in the true Attic manner upon a prepared black surface. Within these two limits we should strictly speaking place the Vourva, Marathon, and the Menidi vases, as well as the large series of ‘Tyrrhenian amphorae’; and possibly yet other classes of the same kind may be found among the Acropolis fragments; but for our purpose these may be regarded rather as tributaries of the main stream, and not as proto-Attic in the limited sense.

The importance of the ‘Melian Amphorae’ in the history of early vase-painting has long been recognised, but the difficulty of locating an isolated fabric which in itself consisted of only five complete examples, all of uncertain provenance, has hitherto prevented any adequate treatment. Any extension of the class would therefore have been welcome. But the amphora which is now added to the list (vide Appendix) has a value in itself beyond its cumulative importance. Not only is there stronger evidence in this case than in any of the others that the vase was actually found in Melos, but the decoration of the vase adds new figure-subjects and new schemes of ornament to those previously recognised as characteristic of the class. Indeed the whole ‘Melian’ class as at present constituted consists of large and elaborate vases, ceramic masterpieces, each of which possesses its own individual scheme of decoration. This appears very clearly in a comparison of the present amphora with two typical examples from those previously published, namely, the Herakles and the Artemis amphorae. In the Herakles vase the painter has produced his effect by an elaborate and ornate treatment both of the figure-scenes and of the ornament forms.

The circumstances under which a find of impressed clay nodules was made in a Mycenaean house at Kato Zakro, in East Crete, in May 1901, are related in the Annual of the British School at Athens vii. p. 133. The nodules are of a fine clay baked, probably intentionally and not by the conflagration which destroyed the house, to varying shades of red. A great number are broken, but the more perfect, including many bearing two and three impressions, show a groove on one edge, about an eighth of an inch deep and a little more wide, scored with straight and oblique scratches. This is the impress of something Cylindrical, to which the nodule was pressed while still wet. The appearance of the clay in the grooves shows that this object was not textile, and it may most reasonably be supposed to have been a reed, perhaps a papyrus stalk. The number of nodules is in all about 500.

As the task of publishing the immediate results of this journey has been entrusted to me, my first duty is to acknowledge the many obligations under which Professor W. M. Ramsay has placed me. Neither my companion Mr. G. A. Wathen of St. Peter's College, Cambridge, nor I, had had previous experience in this form of research, and we were fortunate in beginning the study of Asia Minor under his auspices. A large proportion of the materials here given was collected by him alone; and it is no exaggeration to say that without him we could have accomplished practically nothing, even if we had made the attempt. As I am increasingly conscious that the period of noviciate, on which I then entered, did not end with the journey, I am glad to think that my obligations to him extend to the time of the preparation of this Report. The same reason also makes me glad to know that Professor Ramsay is himself working these results into their place in the General History and Geography of Asia Minor. In this gladness all those interested in such studies will share.

My next duty is to thank all those who, in various ways, helped us to carry out the objects we had in view. On the one hand, we are especially indebted to the British Ambassador at Constantinople and to the Turkish Governor of the Vilayet of Konia; on the other, the funds at our disposal were largely increased, not only by the gifts of friends, but by contributions from the Managers of the Craven Fund, Cambridge, and the Worshipful Company of Mercers, London.

In the course of a visit to Cyzicus, made last December at the invitation of Mr. de Rustafjaell, Mr. Bosanquet and I had the opportunity of copying and taking impressions of two inscriptions from a marble pedestal (Fig. 1), known to the peasants as ‘Balik Tash’ or ‘Fish Stone’ from the reliefs carved upon it.

The stone lies in a vineyard on the low ground of the isthmus in the central harbour of Panormus. Originally discovered by Mr. Tito Carabella of Constantinople, it was seen in January 1880 by Lolling, who published such copies of the inscription as it was possible to obtain without cleaning away the lichen and carbonate of lime which covered many of the letters. These imperfect copies were recently discussed by Dr. Wilhelm who had enquired for the stone at Constantinople and failed to discover its whereabouts. Last summer it was re-excavated by Mr. de Rustafjaell: we succeeded in removing the incrustation and obtained more complete readings.

The conclusions stated in the following pages are based upon the examination of the Greek documents of about three hundred papyri, the large majority belonging to the British Museum. For reference to authorities, I have principally used the following: Kenyon, Greek Papyri in the British Museum; Mahaffy, On the Flinders Patrie Papyri, 1891,1893; Grenfell, Hunt, and Hogarth, Fayum Towns and their Papyri; Grenfell and Hunt, The Oxyrhynchus Papyri I. and II., 1898, 1899. Also the facsimiles and lists published by Schow, Karabacek, Wessely, Thompson, Montfaucon (Book V. of the Pal. Graec.) Wilcken (Observationes ad Historiam Aegypti Prov. Rom. depromptae e pap. Berol. ined. 1885); as well as other works by the authors above-named, viz., Kenyon, Class. Texts, &c.; Grenfell and Hunt, Gk. Pap. Ser. I. and II.; Rev. Laws of Ptol. Phil.; and lastly the ostrakon-literature dealing with the same symbols, especially Wilcken's many publications (esp. Griech. Ostraka, 1899); Revillout and Wilcken in Rev. Egypt.; Birch and Sayce in Proc. Soc. Bibl. Arch.

Whilst travelling in Asia Minor in 1900 I paid a cursory visit to the peninsula of Cyzicus on the Propontis, in ancient Mysia, and had the opportunity of examining the site of the ancient city, and the canal that has been the subject of considerable controversy in bygone ages, and about which the facts are still only partly ascertained. As the site appeared to promise results of peculiar interest, I applied for a concession to excavate it. I had the good fortune to obtain an Imperial Iradé in February, and began tentative operations in May.

From the Admiralty Chart it will be seen that Cyzicus lies on the 30° long. east of Greenwich, and 40°22′ N. lat. and within easy reach of Constantinople. To Panderma there is practically a daily service of steamers, which leave Constantinople at sunset and arrive at about four o'clock the next morning. At Panderma a sailing-skiff takes one in about an hour across the bay to Yeni-Keui, the landing stage immediately outside the walls of the city.

1. On a slab of marble, ht. 10½ in. × 10 in., found within the walls during the tentative excavation. It is broken on the lower edge, but the other edges are fairly complete. The greater part is occupied with a relief representing Hermes and a goddess who is presumably Andeiris (Fig. 1). Both figures face the spectator: on the left Hermes (apparently beardless), wearing short girt chiton, chlamys, and petasos, stands at rest with caduceus along left arm, and right hand resting on hip: on right is Andeiris, a draped woman. Unfortunately this figure is broken away diagonally from the left shoulder to the right breast, and the surface is injured throughout. It is consequently impossible accurately to distinguish the details.

That, after all that has been written on the subject, I imagine to be still the question in the bosom of most readers when they are confronted with a piece of Lyric metre at all complicated. Those who are fortunate enough to have an ear for rhythm, and thus the capability of understanding, are still left, it seems to me, to hear a piece of metre as an uninstructed person hears a piece of music: though he may experience to a considerable degree a sense of vague and general satisfaction, he will lack the understanding of a musical adept. But a musician, hearing a sonata, follows what is being done; observes the themes of which the composition is constructed; notes the treatment of them, how they are developed, varied, and combined; perceives their ethical significance, and feels intelligent artistic pleasure. For all that I can see, the books on lyric metre do not put a student in the position to do this.

At three o'clock on the afternoon of July 6th, 1901, I stood at the extreme edge of the col between Mount Skipieza and Mount Saïta, staring with a mixture of incredulity, irritation, and interest at the scene before me. Where I had expected to see the lake of Pheneus, a blue expanse of twenty-five square miles of water, there lay a fertile stretching plain, for the most part a blaze of golden corn, while here and there a white point of light shewed where a fustanella'd harvester was at his peaceful toil. Nearer, the corn gave place to an ugly foreground of sun-cracked clay, while just at my feet, stretching from side to side of the narrowing valley, lay a mere ribbon of slate-coloured water—all that is left of the lake of Pheneus to-day.

I knew that such changes in its condition had been noted by travellers from Pausanias downwards, but this last and I believe final disappearance of the historic lake seems to have passed without notice in Athens and elsewhere.

It is not generally realized that to speak of Antiochus III—the Antiochus who makes a figure in Roman History—as Antiochus the Great is strictly speaking incorrect, although, as a popular form of speech, it goes back to the time of Polybius, and is even found on some monuments. Other monuments give us the form which is obviously the more correct, the official, form. The Seleucid kings had, it is well known, official surnames. We find them on their coins or in inscriptions along with their title Βασιλεύς The three elements of their designation have their regular order—title, personal name, surname, e.g.Βασιλεύς Σέλευκος Φιλοπάτωρ But in the case of Antiochus III the inscriptions of most authority, which give his designation in full, have notΒασιλεὺς ᾿Αντίοχς Μέγας That is to say, Μέγας is not really a surname at all: but Antiochus III is distinguished by a modification of his title: he is not simply ‘King’ but ‘Great-King.’ The popular form is especially misleading to us who have the way of calling kings the Great to imply vaguely some sort of personal preeminence, as when we speak of Alfred the Great, Frederick the Great, &c. The title ‘Great-King’ has quite a definite significance.

The object of the present essay is to bring together whatever fragments of evidence we possess which may throw light upon the cults of Olbia, the colony founded by the Milesians at the mouth of the Borysthenes about 647 B.C. But by way of preface it may be worth while briefly to indicate the claims that Olbia has to be the subject of special study. All the Greek settlements on the North coast of the Euxine must have had in common many traits which marked them off from Greek colonies elsewhere, but Olbia, while in many respects it may be regarded as a typical city of the locality, was also undoubtedly possessed of an individuality of its own.

How far can the kingdoms in Bactria and India, ruled by kings with Greek names, be called Hellenistic, and how far were they simply native? These pages were put together with this question in view; they have no claim to be more than an attempt to get certain problems stated, to which some day some further answer may be given by the spade. The series of these kings stretches from the revolt of Diodotos, about 250 B.C., to the final merger of Indo-Greek rule in that of the Indo-Scyths in 26 B.C. The period is bisected by the conquest of Bactria by the Yue-tche, which probably took some little while to complete, but with respect to which our information centres on the year 128 B.C. By the time of Augustus, a number of merchantmen were sailing directly from the Red Sea to India, a rare event under the Ptolemies; and this traffic increased later, when in the reign of Nero was made that discovery, or rediscovery, of the monsoons which is associated with the name of Hippalos. To arrive, therefore, at any ideas about the kingdoms of Alexander's successors beyond Parthia, it is necessary to distinguish as carefully as possible the information with regard to India, and the traces of western influence on things Indian, which can be dated later than (say) the Christian era, (and which belong rather to the history of Rome), from information which can be, or may be, dated prior to 26 B.C., or I might almost say prior to 100 B.C., (the time between these two dates being for my purpose a blank); and only to make use of the former sources when they clearly refer to something that falls within the period under consideration. The general result appears to be, that one meets with more of the Iranian and less of the Greek than one expected.