Since Gomme dated the embassy to Sardes to 506, he did not believe that the form of the Athenian government was still unsettled after the recent disturbances but was uncertain as to how Athenian politics worked at the beginning of the period with which he was concerned, 510 - 483. Where Gomme was doubtful, F.J. Frost is prepared to be positive:

Dionysius asserts more than once that Thucydides is superior to all other historians and poets in delineating , in vividly portraying disaster and arousing the reader’s feelings. For Dionysius and other Greek critics, a capacity to evoke ‘pathos’ (emotion) was a requirement for the orator and the historian. The rhetorician ranked Thucydides far above Herodotus in ‘dramatic’ ability, and ‘pathos’ was central to that judgment. He never comments on Thucydides’ rare use of moral and ethical judgments, although such judgments were the Hellenistic historian’s goal, for which ‘dramatic effect’ was but a tool.

The standard body of primary evidence would seem to make it clear that Cleisthenes was responsible for the law on ostracism at Athens. The only contrary element is Harpocration’s use of Androtion (FGrH 324) F 6, when he talks of Hipparchos’ ostracism in 488/7, . However, verbal similarities and other considerations make it likely that Androtion was the source for Athenaion Politeia (henceforth Ath.Pol.) 22 and Philochoros (FGrH 328) F 30, both of which maintain a Cleisthenic origin for the law, so that this will have been Androtion’s view also. It is easy enough to see how Harpocration, in a passage where, let us remember, he is concerned with Hipparchos, not ostracism, could have been loose or confused in his usage. Unfortunately, the rediscovery of a late Byzantine account of ostracism has led to the supposition that there is a difference between Ath.Pol. and Androtion, but that in a way both were right.

It may well be that the much-debated question whether the HA is the work of one or more authors can be settled finally on linguistic grounds. Elsewhere I have produced some linguistic evidence which points to unity of authorship, and in this article I discuss some more evidence of the same kind which suggests the same conclusion.

Dessau drew attention to certain expressions which occur in all or most of the Scriptores and which he regarded as inconsistent with multiple authorship. His remarks are interesting but inconclusive, for most of the expressions could be cliches in use in literary varieties of Latin or borrowed by one Scriptor from another. Conflictum habere (= proelium committere), for example, which he had found nowhere else (op. cit. 387), occurs not only in Augustine (Civ. xix 4) and Hegesippus (i 30.7), but also in Vegetius’ Epitoma rei militaris (i 16). It may have been current in military Latin in the fourth century. To be decisive linguistic evidence must consist of unobtrusive mannerisms common to most of the Scriptores which were not general in literary Latin.

Callimachus’ distaste for Cyclic poetry is well known; he wrote, bluntly, (Ep. 28). That he was an opponent of Aristotle on the subject of epic has been clearly demonstrated by C.O. Brink. There are, however, two points in Callimachus’ opposition to Cyclic epic and Aristotle which I think call for further discussion. The first concerns Aristotle. For Aristotle epic and tragedy are or (Poet. 5, 6 et passim). Callimachus, on the other hand, says his critics berate him because he does not sing of ‘kings and heroes’ (Aetia fr.1. 3 and 5). The second is Callimachus’ criticism of bombast in epic. It is true that Aristotle in accordance with his theory of stylistic appropriateness will have demanded a serious style for the serious subjects of epic, but Callimachus’ explicit scorn is reserved for the bombast of the Cyclic poets.

Vespasian was proclaimed at Alexandria on July 1 of the year 69, in Judaea on July 3, and the legions of Syria under Licinius Mucianus quickly followed suit. After a meeting at Berytus to make plans for the war Mucianus set out with an army. The Historiae of Tacitus furnish no details of time or place for defining the itinerary – only the mention of Byzantium.

Meanwhile the Flavian partisans in the Balkan and Danubian lands, Antonius Primus in the forefront, had moved to rapid action. Not content with holding the Julian Alps, they decided, in a council of war held at Poetovio, to launch an invasion of northern Italy. They defeated the Vitellian forces in battle outside Cremona on October 24, they captured Rome on December 20. By good fortune, the first date is correct to within a day, and the second is certified.

In a recent paper (Antichthon 9 [1975], 81-3), Brian Croke usefully draws attention to Getica xxviii 145, wherein Jordanes seemingly makes a fool of himself by connecting Eugenius with the murder of Gratian. There is one immediate dividend to be had: this reference (and also Jordanes’ other discussion at Romana 317-18) may be used to supplement the entry for Eugenius in The Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire, which ignores Jordanes. However, it is not enough to accuse the chronicler of ‘the most vile error’ and leave it at that. Other explanations are possible, and merit a hearing. Hence a warrant for the following remarks.

The breaking of the dramatic illusion in Aristophanes is a well-known phenomenon, that has often been commented upon, and that many have been able to take for granted. It seems to me, however, that there is still some confusion surrounding its function in Aristophanic comedy, and that since it has an important bearing on the nature of this kind of drama, there is warrant for raising the matter again.

The verb is translated as ‘wench’ by LSJ, λαικάστης as ‘wencher’ and λαικάστρια as ‘strumpet’. They are followed by Frisk with ‘huren’ and Chantraine with ‘forniquer’. Against the Grecians, Walde-Hofmann and Ernout and Meillet s.v. laecasin equate the Greek verb with fellare. An examination of the evidence shows that the Latinists must be right. The Grecians had no Heraeus to guide them.

The most commonly held interpretation of this play has been well summed up as follows: ‘Ismene utters in the words addressed to Oedipus in line 394 “Now the gods are setting you right; previously they ruined you” the object of our play.’ On this view, the main theme of the play is the divine restoration of Oedipus. ‘He whom the gods have smitten as a criminal, whom men have rejected as impious, is seen rehabilitated, venerated, glorified almost equally to a divine being, and will find a compensation for his undeserved sufferings in an apotheosis which will make of him the benign genius of a country.’ Oedipus’ sufferings have taught him humility: ‘I ask little, and get even less than that little, but this suffices me, for my suffering, my companion the length of time, and my nobility have taught me patience.’ ‘Precisely because he is a hero, he is humble.’ The combination of moral exaltation and physical degradation generates a new spiritual power which becomes increasingly evident as the play progresses: ‘Foreknowledge of the future belongs to Oedipus because he is more than man... To Creon’s taunts he replies with a declaration of his own superior power. Only a hero can do this with assurance.’ The process culminates in his mysterious end, whether we can call it an apotheosis or not: ‘We do not know precisely what his state will be, but we can be sure that he will be conscious and active, rather as Protesilaus was believed to be able to punish the wrongdoer from the grave because the gods gave him special favour.’ He is thus a kind of anticipation of Christ.

Perhaps the most important military development of the Flavian period was the establishment of the vast provincial complex of Galatia/Cappadocia. As a result the entire aspect of Roman Asia Minor was changed. Instead of a weak agglutination of unarmed provinces with client kingdoms at the periphery there emerged a single huge province extending from the borders of Asia as far as the Euphrates, all of it under a consular legate with a subordinate of praetorian rank. Central Anatolia could at last be treated as a unity. Accordingly in the 70s and 80s A.D. a network of military roads sprang up, leading from Pisidia in the west and Lycaonia in the south to the Euphrates frontier and to the Pontic coast. Then as now the military area was to the east. Two legions had permanent camps at Satala in Lesser Armenia and at Melitene oh the Euphrates; and there was a chain of subsidiary fortresses manned by legionary vexillationes or auxiliary cohorts, which extended as far as Dioscurias, halfway up the eastern coast of the Black Sea.

Essential to a recent interpretation of Propertius iii 11 are the ideas that ‘the opening verses … establish clearly an erotic context for the rest of the poem’, and that ‘the statement that, with Augustus, Rome had nothing to fear from Cleopatra personally (55) can have nothing to do with her military resources … The victory celebrated here is that of Augustus over Cleopatra as over an enchantress, powerful in love.’ These assessments are based on the opinion, several times repeated, that Propertius' introduction of himself as the elegiac lover in vv. 1-8 necessitates our viewing everything in the poem thereafter as coloured by this fact.

It is an almost universal principle that texts should not receive emendation until the reading of the MSS. has received careful consideration. An initial awkwardness may, after reflection, prove to be a poet's sacrifice of style to achieve some higher end – an allusion to traditional literature, a word-order reflecting the structure of his ideas, or the accurate expression of ideas which are not easily put into verse. The last reason is usually held responsible for the short-comings of Parmenides' poetry, while in his prologue, with which I am here concerned, sacrifices of the first kind may also be expected, as literary allusions have been proved plentiful and significant. In a previous publication I have also argued for a carefully contrived word-order at B8.53, hinting that this may also be the case at B1.3. If my hunch were correct, then it would involve restoring the manuscript reading in that line.

In this paper I wish to argue as follows. Plato held, and stressed very strongly from the start, that the Forms are not subject to change. He seemed to hold that in this lies their main contrast with the sensible world. But at times, particularly in the middle dialogues, he was inclined to argue that the inferiority of the sensible world lies elsewhere; namely, in the fact that its objects are the bearers of opposite (contrary or contradictory) properties. I will argue, first, that this latter claim in its simplest and most direct form is inconsistent with other important claims made by Plato; second, that recent attempts to make the argument tighter and more consistent are unsuccessful. I will end by trying to show that what remains of the ‘argument from opposites’ when a number of necessary qualifications have been made, still leads to a clear and useful distinction between Forms and particulars.

Some thirty-five years ago, Passerini discussed the career of this eminent Flavian senator, inspired, it would appear, by the discovery of an inscription revealing his hitherto unknown legateship of Spain; but the possibilities of this inscription were not fully explored. A re-evaluation of Clemens' career seems desirable.

Justice is a theme common to both of Sophocles' Oedipus plays, but it is subjected to scrutiny from two quite different viewpoints. The mythical Oedipus was pre-eminently suited to be an example of the workings of universal justice, as Sophocles conceived it, both because his crime and its discovery might be presented as a vivid dramatic event, and because Oedipus' very existence confronted the starkest questions of justice and morality, innocence, guilt and criminal intent. So rich was this broad theme that Sophocles treated it on two occasions, far removed from each other in time and spirit, yet the dramatist was able to derive new elucidation of the universe in his second encounter. But critics generally are unwilling to face the issues of justice and guilt squarely. The O. T., especially, gives rise to much embarrassment or plain evasion, yet only by facing Sophocles' actual presentation of the problem and assessing it on Sophocles' own terms can we arrive at a satisfactory response to the predicament of Oedipus – a response which will affront neither our intellect nor our morality.

In his article ‘Clouds, Mysteries, Socrates and Plato’ (Antichthon 4 [1970], 13-24), Professor A.W.H. Adkins starts from the agreed fact that certain passages of the Clouds compare entry to the phrontisterion to initiation to mysteries. He argues from this (and here I should not necessarily disagree with him) that Socrates was in the habit of using initiation-language when speaking of philosophy and that Aristophanes, shocked by such blasphemy, ‘used it as one more weapon against Socrates and the New Thought in his Clouds’ (24).