The publication 1 of the fragment at first missing from the upper left-hand corner of the tabula Hebana (AE 1949, 215) so far confirms some conjectures which I made in a talk at Cambridge in 1951 that I am moved to print the briefest note about a point which does not seem so far to have been mentioned elsewhere.

A parchment codex of the early sixth century a.d., now in Vienna, contains a remarkable series of nearly 400 full-page illustrations of individual botanical species. These illustrations accompany an alphabetical recension of a pharmacological treatise on the medicinal properties of plants written by Dioskourides of Anazarbos, a Greek author of the first century a.d. Both the date of the codex and the style of its botanical illustrations have encouraged suggestions that the latter were modelled somehow on classical archetypes. This article presents new observations in support of the classical archetypes theory, but questions the traditional view that these archetypes were transmitted by ‘illustrated texts’ or ‘pattern books’ executed in papyrus or parchment. What follows is a new hypothesis concerning the nature of the artistic intermediaries used by painters, mosaicists and sculptors during antiquity.

Gnaeus Iulius Agricola was born on 13th June, A.D. 40, at an evil juncture in his family fortunes. His father, the senator Iulius Graecinus, had offended the Emperor Gaius in a matter which cost him his life. This dark affair is not chronicled in detail, and our scanty knowledge of Graecinus and his career permits no useful conjecture on the cause. Graecinus had been a procurator's son, able enough in the disillusioned eyes of Tiberius to merit promotion to the Senate: he was also an advocate, endowed with sufficient ability to be engaged by the Emperor to appear against the Empress's father and with sufficient temerity to refuse the task. His literary efforts comprised a learned study of viticulture, considered more elegant than its model, and perhaps reflecting real interest in land. Agricultural interest may also be mirrored in the cognomen of the son. None of these facts, however, provides any cogent reason for the execution of Graecinus, and it must be further confessed that the elevation of the family to senatorial rank was too recent, and its provincial original too obvious, to excite wide or searching interest in his death. The sole external comment, by Seneca, is purely conventional.

A now conventional model, developed by Robert Markus, sees late Roman cities as fundamentally secular landscapes. Focusing on Augustine's sermon against a feast of the genius of Carthage (Sermo 62), this article argues that narratives of ‘secularity’ have neglected pagans’ own attitudes and the circumstances that drove ordinary Christians’ participation in civic rites. Behind Augustine's charges of ‘idolatry’ lay the religious convictions of the feast's non-Christian sponsors and behind their expectations of Christian attendance lay the recent destruction of a pagan shrine on church property. For Augustine's listeners to construe the feast as religiously irrelevant was an expression not of routine social solidarity, but of fear before powerful patrons. What was ‘secular’ was open to doubt and negotiation, both here and in empire-wide celebrations such as the Kalends of January; the boundary between the ‘pagan’ and the ‘secular’ can be located only with careful attention to the diversity of opinions about each particular rite.

The Museum Department of Malta possesses among its rich collection of antiquities, both local and foreign, a set of six portraits which should be appended to the remarkable series of Cyrenaican funerary busts studied and published by Miss Elizabeth Rosenbaum. Four of these busts (I–IV) are exhibited among the sculptures in the ‘Roman Villa’ Museum at Rabat and the other two (V and VI) are stored in the basement of the National Museum in Valletta.

It is not in the least surprising that Miss Rosenbaum omitted these busts in her otherwise most comprehensive catalogue of Cyrenaican portraits, which included those scattered in various European collections. The reason for this omission is that these sculptures have either been classified incorrectly or never published. The first to publish four of these portraits (I–IV) was Thomas Ashby, who gave only a short description of them without attempting a typological classification; he even called one ‘a little Phoenician in character’ and another ‘rather Etruscan-looking’. Shortly after, T. Zammit repeated, almost verbatim, Ashby's captions for I, II and IV, while omitting III.

In 214 b.c., the army of Ti. Sempronius Gracchus defeated Hannibal's Carthaginian forces near the town of Beneventum. Gracchus, proconsul with imperium in Apulia, had led his troops from Luceria in the North-East, while Hanno, Hannibal's lieutenant, arrived with his forces from Bruttium in the South, and a pitched battle was fought by the river Calor. The Romans were victorious. According to Livy, the Carthaginian force of more than 18,000 was routed, less than 2,000 survived, and 38 standards were taken; but the truly striking fact about Gracchus' victory is that his army was largely comprised of slaves. This had been necessary, in contradiction of Roman law and custom, following the tragic and massive casualties suffered in the previous years' battles, most famously at Cannae. Exceptional circumstances called for exceptional measures: pueri donned men's armour; libertini were called to serve; criminals, too; then slaves, who were purchased to fight for the state. The status of such troops posed a significant problem, both legally as well as socially, a problem that was to have a long history.

Whilst the Scriptores Historiae Augustae have given rise in the last twenty-five years to lively debate, and their historical value has been tested in various ways, the other authors who treat of the same period have less frequently been made the subject of investigation. In the discussions of the Historia Augusta they have been indeed commonly considered, but works of scholars who are mainly concerned with the corresponding parts of Dio Cassius' History or with Herodian's History of the Emperors, and who consequently make these authors the centre of their researches, are comparatively rare. Hence it is all the more gratifying that the history of Herodian at least should recently have been discussed in two elaborate monographs, one by Erich Baaz, and another by Dr. J. C. P. Smits. Unfortunately these two investigators in many respects arrive at greatly different results. The following remarks will, I hope, throw fresh light on at least one of the controversial points.