The political history of Miletos in the mid-fifth century has until recently been reconstructed from five pieces of most reliable evidence, four of them epigraphical, of which three are contemporary with the events concerned.

I. The First Quota-List

From this it appears that Miletos failed to pay tribute to Athens in 454/3: instead (col. vi 19–22), three talents were found by Μιλεσιοι | [ε]χς Λερο and a further sum by [Μι]λεσιοι | [εκ Τ]ειχιοσσε[ς. There are no Milesian entries for 453/2, and Miletos herself only resumed payment in 452/1, as recorded in List III (col. ii 28). From this, and from comparison with the contemporary situation at Erythrai and with later events at Kolophon, it is inferred that Miletos was in revolt in 454/3, the loyal, pro-Athenian, party having taken refuge in Leros and Teichioussa, and that the revolt had been put down in time for the collection of 452/1.

Despite the discussions of a hundred years, the unity of Euripides' Herakles remains a problem. Most scholars have distinguished in the play three parts whose limits are marked by the apparition of Lussa with Iris (814) and by Herakles' recovery from madness (1088): but over the relationship of these three parts to each other and to the whole there has been little agreement. It is this relationship which I propose to consider.

The problem is baldly stated by Müller who contented himself with complaining of the lack of unity involved in the ‘combination in one piece of two actions so totally different as the deliverance of the children of Herakles from the persecutions of the blood-thirsty Lykos, and their murder by the hands of their frantic father’. Wilamowitz, followed with elaborations by Verrall, sought to diminish the shock by looking for some continuity between these two events and suggested that the madness developed naturally and gradually, and is already discernible in the earlier utterances and actions of Herakles. This view—Herakles the Megalomaniac—finds its way into Murray's Oxford Text and is accepted apparently by Dodds and certainly by Grube. But this shock of inconsequence is essential to the drama, and later scholars—Parmentier, Kitto, Ehrenberg—have quite rightly repudiated the megalomania theory. Müller was wrong in the first place to consider the relationship of two parts of a drama without the third. This sort of procedure leads to conclusions like that of Murray who in his discussion begins with part iii, alludes briefly to part ii and not at all to part i: he pronounces the play ‘broken-backed’. Kitto on the other hand looks for ‘one unifying idea’. But though he suggests one, he does not satisfactorily solve the difficulties he himself finds in part i (‘Dramatic feebleness like this … the scenes are flat … dramatising a negative’, etc., 240–2), and of Stasimon ii he concludes that it is ‘neither itself a unity nor has it any connexion with the action or the thought’ (265 cf. 244); and it is understandable that Norwood is unconvinced and reverts to the verdict of Murray.

This is part of the famous inscription from the garden of S. Pietro in Vincoli in Rome, giving the career of the pancratiast M. Aurelius Asclepiades, who was at the height of his powers c. A.D. 180. Moretti describes it as ‘Certainly the most interesting of all agonistic inscriptions, not so much for its length and the number of victories and festivals recorded in it as for the abundance of expressions peculiar to the world of athletics’.

Moretti's explanations of most of these expressions will command general agreement, but of those quoted above it is possible to take another view. The words ἀνέκκλητος and μήτε ἐκκαλεσάμενος—ἐκκαλέσασθαι he connects with προκαλεῖσθαι, and explains that Asclepiades was never challenged and never challenged anyone else. It is not easy to see why this should be a merit in a pancratiast. Moretti suggests that inferior athletes challenged to matches those whom they believed they could defeat, these matches being outside the normal contests, in which, of course, the competitors were paired by the κλῆρος. This is possible, and is supported by the word τολμήσαντος, but it is difficult to believe that a περιοδονείκης would think it worth mentioning, still less that he would repeat it. Moretti connects ἐπεξελθών with συναξελθών, and interprets it ‘He never agreed with an opponent to abandon a contest’ or simply ‘He never abandoned a contest’.

The Rubrics to be discussed here are five in number: and They have often been discussed before, both singly and together, but their relationship to each other was given a new prominence by Meritt's ordering of the lists for the Assessment Periods in which they appear. If his arrangement of them is accepted as a starting-point for discussion, the results for the tribute-history of the cities in these Rubrics are as set out in the table in ATL (iii 87). From this general picture of the Rubrics the following points emerge:

(1) ἄτακτοι cities are first noted as such in ATL's List 20 (435/4), in which five cases are observable—Gale, Pharbelos, Othoros, Chedrolos and Miltoros—all in the Thrakian panel. These cities may all have appeared in List 19 (436/5) making similar payments, but if ATL's placing of their entries in that list is correct, they were not then noted as ἄτακτοι. Before List 19 two of them (Gale and Miltoros) had never made any appearance in the lists, as we have them, at all; one (Chedrolos) last appeared in 447/6 and was absent from a full panel in 443/2; and the remaining two (Pharbelos and Othoros) had appeared fairly regularly down to 441/0 and are not known to have been absent ever. In all cases where an ἄτακτος has paid before, it pays exactly the same amount as it paid in its latest known payment before 436/5.

The purpose of this article is to consider how the symbolic associations which right and left had for the ancient Greeks influenced various theories and explanations in Greek philosophy of the fifth and fourth centuries B.C. The fact that certain manifest natural oppositions (e.g. right and left, male and female, light and darkness, up and down) often acquire powerful symbolic associations, standing for religious categories such as pure and impure, blessed and accursed, is well attested by anthropologists for many present-day societies. Robert Hertz, in particular, has considered the significance of the widespread belief in the superiority of the right hand, in his essay ‘La prééminence de la main droite: étude sur la polarité religieuse’ [Revue Philosophique lxviii (1909), 553 ff., recently translated into English by R. and С. Needham in Death and the Right Hand (London, 1960) 89 ff.]. It is, of course, well known that the ancient Greeks shared some similar beliefs, associating right and left with lucky and unlucky, respectively, and light and darkness with safety, for example, and death. Yet the survival of certain such associations in Greek philosophy has not, I think, received the attention it deserves. I wish to document this aspect of the use of opposites in Greek philosophy in this paper, concentrating in the main upon the most interesting pair of opposites, right and left. Before I turn to the evidence in the philosophers themselves, two introductory notes are necessary. In the first, I shall consider briefly some of the evidence in anthropology which indicates how certain pairs of opposites are associated with, and symbolise, religious categories in many present-day societies. The second contains a general summary of the evidence for similar associations and beliefs in pre-philosophical Greek thought.

In his paper ‘The Athenian Coinage Decree’, in Historia x (1961) 148–88, Mattingly proposes to date this decree (Tod 67: ATL ii D14: the ‘Decree of Klearchos’) to 425/4. This involves two important principles, historical and epigraphic. Historically, he contends that a measure of this coercive sort is out of place in the middle of the century (it is dated in ATL to 449/8) and finds its proper context in the time of Kleon's ascendancy, in the latter part of the Archidamian War. Epigraphically, since one copy in which this decree is preserved (the only copy which uses the Attic alphabet) writes sigma always with three bars Mattingly is led to challenge the current epigraphic doctrine, namely, that in Attic inscriptions this form of sigma is not used (at least in the ‘chancery style’, for a public decree) later than 446.

The epigraphic doctrine about three-bar sigma is not self-evidently true, and it is fair and right that it should be called in question. We believe it is true in fact, and that the use of three-bar sigma in the Kos copy of D14 creates a strong presumption that Mattingly's date is too low. We deal with the documents alleged by Mattingly to run counter to this doctrine, and hope to show (in each case) that they do not. We deal with these and other documents under three heads: first, the two from which Mattingly starts, the decree of Klearchos about coinage and the decree of Kleinias about the collection of tribute; next, some other decrees concerning Athens' allies; last, those which are concerned with building projects.

In 1938 Sir William Max Muller of London, son of the Oxford philologist Max Müller, lent me a volume containing some seventy letters by Schliemann to use in my publications of Schliemann's correspondence. In January 1945 I deposited these in one of two suitcases, full of original letters, copies, and photographs, in the official bunker at Schwerin, for safety from air-raids. In the next three years all my efforts, and those of the museum staff, to recover the suitcases were of no avail, and on March 5, 1948, the administration of Mecklenburg replied to my renewed queries that they had both been lost. In the summer of 1958 an agent from Schwerin discovered this collection, all that has survived from the two suitcases, in a book-shop in West Berlin. It was recovered and returned to the widow of its previous owner in London. Agamemnon Schliemann (the son) and Sir William Max Muller had at the time given me permission to use the letters as a supplement to my two books, Schliemann-Briefwechsel i (1953) and ii (1958) and a selection of them is published here.

Ten other letters from Schliemann to Müller of the years 1874–83 which were not in the collection have been found after renewed study of several volumes of Schliemann's letter-books.

How and why did Daphnis meet his end? The story of Daphnis was in origin Sicilian and its most popular and consistent form goes back at least to the Sicilian writers, Timaeus and Stesichorus (Aelian, Vera Hist. 10.18). It occurs also in Diodorus Siculus (4.84) and the scholia on Vergil (Servius, ad Ecl. 5.20, 8.68; Philarg. ad Ecl. 5.20). According to this version Daphnis, who was the son of a Nymph and had been exposed under a laurel bush from which he took his name, was a herdsman. He was loved by a Nymph and plighted his troth to her, promising γυναικὶ μὴ πλησιάζειν. He was, however, seduced by a beautiful princess and, as a punishment, was blinded and, in some accounts, fell to his death from a cliff.

Opinion has long been divided whether in his treatment of Daphnis Theocritus follows the popular version or elaborated an original story of his own (or, it may be, followed a version otherwise unknown to us). We know of other such original versions, by Hermesianax and Sositheus so that a striking departure from the old tradition would not be unprecedented. His casual allusions to Daphnis are all ambiguous or uninformative (5.20, 81; Epigr. 2, 3, 5) while Idyll 8 must be discounted since it is certainly not from his pen. We are left, therefore, with Idyll 7.73–5 and Idyll 1.64–142. Thyrsis' song is, however, far from being a straightforward narrative. It is throughout allusive, seeming to assume from the listener familiarity with the story. The salient points of it may be summarised: Daphnis is languishing with love (66, 78). The gods visit him. Hermes comes first from a hill, which is a feature of the landscape (77, πράτιστος ἀπ' ὤρεος), and asks with whom Daphnis is in love. He receives no reply. Then Priapus, who also is unanswered, teases Daphnis with his love and reveals that the maiden wanders the countryside looking for him. Finally Aphrodite comes and Daphnis at last breaks out into a tirade against the miseries brought on mankind by Love. He ends by taking leave of his surroundings and, despite an attempt by Aphrodite to revive him, dies.

The problem of the date of the surrender of the Messenians blockaded by the Spartans at Ithome has been subjected to considerable discussion in recent years. From this discussion two main attitudes have emerged:

(a) The majority hold the view that the surrender took place round about 460, and that the phrase ‘δεκάτῳ ἔτει’ in Thucydides' account (i 103.1) requires emendation, though they are not agreed on what the text should be.

(b) A minority view, put forward by Scharf, and independently and in greater detail by Hammond, agrees in putting the surrender early, round about 460, but keeps ‘δεκάτῳ’ in the text of Thucydides, and supposes that his calculation was made not from the revolt that followed hard upon the famous earthquake (which is the usual view), but from an alleged earlier rising dated to 469/8. In a rather different form this view is also held by Sealey.

The utensils which I am going to describe and discuss in the following pages are the ordinary utensils of Greek, mainly Athenian, households in the classical period; they have been found in abundance, are not special articles and may therefore serve to furnish a fairly complete picture of the classical batterie de cuisine. It is only in the last generation that material has come to hand which enables us to venture some way to understanding the methods of ancient Greek cooking. The Excavations of the Athenian Agora, in which the majority of the cooking pots on plates IV–VIII have been found, have produced evidence for the contents of Greek kitchens in most periods of Greek history, objects for the most part thrown away when broken as the result either of public or of private sacrifices. Rarely, in contrast with Pompeii, are the contents of the kitchen found in the places where they were used. Thus other evidence must be brought forward to supplement the archaeological, and this evidence is of two kinds: literary and artistic. Our literary knowledge of Greek cookery is derived in the main from the quotations preserved by Athenaeus; other authors refer to cookery incidentally and rarely provide a straight description.

There are in Chalcis Museum four black-figured lekythoi of sixth-century date. Two, nos. 567 and 569, were mentioned by Professor Haspels in Attic Black-figured Lekythoi 28 f., but the others have not, as far as I am aware, been noticed. None of them fits neatly into any Attic group, though three can be loosely connected with the Dolphin class. One is certainly from Styra. The finding-place of the others is not recorded, but there can be no doubt that they are from sites in Euboea. The close resemblance between Attic and Eretrian vase-painting makes it difficult to distinguish Atticising work made in Eretria from Attic imports, while so far black-figured vases of the archaic period from workshops in Chalcis have not been recognised. Nevertheless a study of the four lekythoi now in Chalcis reveals affinities with the few vases that are already known to be of Euboean origin and indicates that they should be classed with them rather than with Attic.

The first, no. 960 (ht. 19·5 cm.) is seen on plate IX. 1–3 (2 is from the same negative as 1 with the red and white retouched). The shape of the vase can be seen in the illustrations and needs no comment. On the shoulder opening flowers, black with a central petal in applied white, alternate with red buds. On the body a panther faces a grazing stag with one group of four fine dots between them and another beneath the body of the stag. Though the general appearance of the vase is not noticeably unlike Attic some unusual features can be observed. First, the three gently curving brush strokes which emphasise and embellish the ribs of the panther are not accompanied by incised lines. Though it is common enough to find incision and no paint on this part of an animal, it is only very rarely that we find paint with no incision. For parallels we have to turn to two of the Eretrian grave amphorae in Athens. Both the Wedding and the Herakles amphorae show important vestiges of an earlier unincised style of painting, for on the first the whole of the back of the vase lacks incision, on the second the whole of the foot. Some scenes show a compromise between the incised and the unincised, part of the scene, or even part of a figure, lacking the usual incisions. So here, in the case of our panther, though incision is used on the head, legs and hindquarters, the ribs are merely painted, without the incised lines to which the painting is normally only an adjunct. See plate IX.2 and compare the ribs of the panther with those of the completely unincised lions on the back of the neck of the Eretrian Wedding amphora, BICS vi pl. 1.1. Further, as has already been pointed out in this Journal, the markings in red that brighten up the bodies of Eretrian animals are shapely and ornamental, generally tapering downwards. Between the incised lines on the hindquarters of both the panther and the stag we have decorative markings of this kind, broader at the top, making a gentle curve and tapering to a point at the base, while the three on the ribs of the panther, though smaller, are also well shaped.

• (i) By an oversight which I can neither explain nor excuse, I entirely failed to take account of the relevant Panathenaic amphorae attributed by Sir John Beazley to the Eucharides Painter (ABV 396):

1. 9. Athens, Acropolis 947, fr. … B, man holding auloi (Graef, Heft 2, pl. 61).

2. 10. Leningrad from Kerch. A, Athena; B, aulete on platform between two men on ground level, both leaning on rhabdoi. Arch. Anz. 1912, 339–40, figs. 23(A), 24(B).

3. 12. Athens, Acropolis 1060, fr. … B, two men on platform (= aulode and accompanist?) facing standing man with rhabdos (Graef, Heft 2, pl. 62).

• (ii) Since my article appeared, Dr Dorothy Kent Hill of the Walters Art Gallery (to whom I am indebted for most of the references on which these addenda are based) has published in AJA lxiii (1959), pl. 47 (fig. 3—A, fig. 4—B) a further Panathenaic amphora which she attributes to the Eucharides Painter:

• Baltimore, Walters Art Gallery 48.2107 (acquired 1958). A, Athena; B, man on platform playing kithara between two men leaning on rhabdoi.

The statue base in Aspendos published by D. Hereward in JHS lxxviii (1958) 59–61 no. 3 is unusual, perhaps unique, in that it mentions not one but several groups each called οἱ περὶ τὸν δεῖνα. J./L. Robert comment on them, understanding that in all there are five groups (REG lxxii (1959) 258 no. 452); but there is uncertainty. This is one of several problems which, as Miss Hereward remarks, the text presents. She reads:

First, the edges. The numbers of letters missing at the beginnings of the first four lines, and at the ends of all but one line, are not established, yet they determine much else. The Roberts complain, and rightly, that instead of a photograph and squeeze, there is only a drawing, necessarily subjective; but I have found my confidence in it growing as I worked. It is not often so, but the drawing is to be preferred to the transcription in several places.

The left side is said to be preserved in part. This can be confirmed on the drawing, by sketching in the parts of the letters missing at the edge in lines 5–10: they give an even and satisfactory margin. The right side is broken away, but stone remains for 0·01 m. (surely not ‘·1’ as on p. 59) to the right of the last preserved letter in line 9. On this (right) side also restorations can be sketched in, and a margin, sufficiently even, and causing line 11 to be exactly centred, can be established. On this basis all of the gaps at the ends can be determined more accurately than in the previous text.

In JHS lxxx go I reproduced the upper part of Montfaucon's engraving showing the statue of a Gallus, which I (and others) supposed to be lost. I am indebted to Mr C. C. Vermeule for drawing my attention to his ‘Notes on a New Edition of Michaelis’ in AJA lix, from which I learnt (p. 89) that the statue was in the Earl of Pembroke's collection at Wilton, and that it was of Severan or late Antonine date. Mr Vermeule's reference to Michaelis enabled me to trace its history a little farther back.

In 1731, twelve years after its publication by Montfaucon, Cary Creed reproduced it in a volume of etchings after sculptures in the Pembroke Collection, and inscribed the etching ‘Attis, Cybele's high Priest Cloathed as a Woman it is grav'd in Montfaucon without the Head my Lord having bought it before with ye Mazarine Collection’. It is hardly plain whether head or torso or both came from the Mazarin Collection, but the head crowned by a Phrygian cap is plainly alien. Lord Pembroke kindly told me that the head was much restored, and that with it the figure was 5 ft. 9 in. in height.

In his carefully balanced and analytical investigation of the ὅρκιον τῶν οἰκιστήρων of Cyrene (JHS lxxx 94–111), A. J. Graham seems to me to have been somewhat misled in his treatment of the verb αὐτοματίζω by the not very exact entry in LSJ Add. et Corr. 2055. Under the original entry in LSJ the meanings are correctly enough given. The fourth-century B.C. authors quoted used it either of persons—‘to act of oneself, act off-hand or unadvisedly’ (X. Cyr. 4.5.21) or of things—‘to act spontaneously’ (Arist. GA 715–27). But when after the publication of the Cyrene inscription the entry was amended and amplified to cover the activity of the Pythia, the editors rather unfortunately chose simply to translate it to ‘deliver an oracle’. Hence Graham following them writes that ‘contemporary (i.e., fourth-century) uses of the word which have been recorded are quite different in meaning’, and concludes that ‘it is an unusual word and χράω would be expected in its place’.

In a recent article on Plutarch's style in the Marius, T. F. Carney, asserting Plutarch's ‘ability to orchestrate the action of a passage in the words used to express that action’, quotes 37.1

and states that this is an all but complete Iambic Septenarius or Octonarius. How far does it fall short? δρῶσιν ἱππέων will occupy not the first 1½ metra of the line but the second ½ metron and the next metron, as the two long syllables of ἵλην cannot occupy the second half of a metron. The next 1½ metra, then, are ἵλην πρόσωθεν ἐλαύν-. Here we must stop, as the remainder of ἐλαύνοντας cannot stand in the second half of a metron, –οντ– being long. Altogether, then, we have ½ metron followed by 2½ metra, with -οντας excluded. In fact, it would be better not to think of a Septenarius or Octonarius and to be content with saying that the quoted words show a strong iambic rhythm. Or we might say that an iambic passage is immediately followed by another iambic passage

I begin this note by announcing a palaeographical discovery of some interest concerning the famous Venetian manuscript of Athenaeus (MS. Marcianus gr. 447), which is our only source for most of the text of that author. Examination of the handwriting has convinced me that folios 3–348, nearly the whole manuscript, were written by John the Calligraphier, the scribe who was commissioned by Arethas of Caesarea to produce well-known and important copies of Plato (MS. E. D. Clarke 39) and Aristides (MS. Laurentianus Plut. 60.3 and Parisinus gr. 2951). The accompanying illustration should make the identity clear (see plates xi). It is worth noting that owing to a special circumstance the two previously published facsimiles did not permit the identification of the hand. They were both selected from a part of the book where John wrote in a rather larger hand than usual; for in this manuscript, unlike the others that he copied, his writing gradually became larger as he progressed. This, however, was a habit common to many scribes and does not cast any doubt on the validity of identifying his hand here.

The first consequence of identifying the hand is that it becomes possible to date the manuscript fairly precisely. The other books written by John are dated to A.D. 895 and c. A.D. 917–28, and as the span of thirty-five years is at least as long as a calligrapher can be assumed to have exercised his profession, it seems reasonable to place the Athenaeus between the two other books.