Barrett finds lines 1010–15 difficult. He says that ‘hovers between “an heiress as my wife” and “marriage with an heiress”’, that ‘a Greek heiress ( here and I.T. 682) did not inherit property as her own: it passed not to her but with her, to her husband and ultimately to her children.—In Attic law a widow was never : a man's property went to his legitimate children.

The existence of Otto Weinreich's excellent Türöffnung im Wunder-, Prodigienund-und Zauberglauben der Antike, des Judentums und Christentums continues to make an apology necessary for any re-examination of texts in which doors are made, or encouraged, spontaneously to open, to admit a divinity or, occasionally, to speed his departure. But what little fresh sustenance remains to be sucked from some of these well-gnawed bones may now be usefully supplemented with comment on a number of more recently suggested examples.

When Erysichthon, son of Triopas, persisted in felling trees in a grove sacred to Demeter the goddess inflicted on him an insatiable appetite, the consequences of which are brilliantly recounted by Callimachus in his sixth Hymn. Among them is a vain appeal from Triopas to his father Poseidon either to cure or else to feed his grandson, who has devoured the mules, the heifer which his mother was rearing for sacrifice, the racehorse, and the charger,

This study offers a new analysis of the last argument of Plato's Phaedo for the immortality of the soul.

Interpretations of this argument and especially of the last section have differed considerably. Judgements on its value have usually been adverse. One scholar speaks of the ‘screen of unreal argument’ which concludes the proof, and writes that ‘from the standpoint of logic the argument has petered out into futility’. Another describes the final stage of the proof as ‘a blatant petitio principii’. A third remarks that the conclusion follows ‘if we do not look too closely’.

In this article I propose to discuss some passages in the Oresteia in order to illustrate the method devised by Heimsoeth and Headlam for the detection of intrusive glosses. Headlam's theory of glosses, which I outlined in a recent article, was based on a systematic study of the ancient lexica and scholia. Further work on the scholia has raised some problems affecting their authenticity, which need to be settled, if they are to be used effectively for the elucidation of the text.

The question to be discussed in this paper can be put in simple terms: at what date were the collections of scholia on classical Greek authors compiled? Scholars have given two conflicting answers. The first was put forward by J. W. White in his edition of the scholia to Aristophanes' Birds. Developing an opinion of Dindorf, he suggested that the archetype of the scholia was a large parchment codex of the fourth or fifth century, which contained in the margins a commentary drawn from several sources. A very similar view has been expressed about the scholia to Apollonius Rhodius and Pindar.

Features of the older Attic alphabet, which was officially replaced by the Ionic alphabet in the archonship of Eukleides, are still found sporadically in the Hellenistic period, although some cases are most probably explicable on grounds of analogy:

∈ written for 1324. 26. U (in. s. ii?)2

This perhaps shows the influence of the noun

This passage comes at the end of Diodorus' account of the archon year 357/6 (Alexander's death probably in fact occurred earlier; 358 is the most likely date) and obviously contains a proleptic reference to the future fortunes of the tyrannicides, Tisiphonus, Lycophron, (and Peitholaus). Tisiphonus died probably in 355 or early in 354; Lycophron and Peitholaus were expelled from Pherae by Philip in 352.

The most recent work dealing expressly with adoption in Greece is Wentzel's article in Hermes lxv (1930), 167–76, ‘Studien über die Adoption in Griechen-land’. Her article ranges widely over the whole subject and includes a list of all the inscriptions known to her which refer to adoptions, as well as a list of the adoptive formulae found in these inscriptions. In the present article I shall deal more fully with these formulae.

In 163 Galen gave an anatomy lesson in Rome before an audience that included ‘Demetrius of Alexandria, a friend of Favorinus, who was every day speakingin public on themes proposed to him, in the style and manner of Favorinus’

The statement of Heinsius that was the reading of all his manuscriptsis described by Henry2 as a mere blunder, and it must surely be so regarded.Henry claims to have examined seventy-four manuscripts, in none of whichdid he find , and more recent commentators and editors, though some3 prefer to adopt the emendation , are unanimous in acknowledging thelack of manuscript support for the change.

‘Putting the cart before the horse is folly, even when disguised under one ofthose Greek phrases which are so often employed-in grammar, in medicine,and in theology-to cloak ignorance. No writer of sense puts that last whichshould come first, and to accuse a great writer of doing so is mere impertinence.’1

The idea of structural analysis of the Aeneid has been attacked recently by some who believe that too complicated mathematics are involved in line totals involving a golden mean. The object of the present article is to investigate whether simpler numerical effects are discernible in the poem, and whether these effects were deliberately inserted by Virgil.

The significant numbers to be examined in this connexion are 3, 7, 12, and 30. The first three of these are among the ritualistic numbers whose use in the Aeneid was discussed by C. P. Clark, while 30 is among other things part of the series 3, 30, 300 (total 333) which we encounter in Aen. I. 261–96.

This is one of the Horatian passages most tormented by the critics. Four points, I think, may now be safely regarded as established.

First of all, the lectio tradita can hardly be sound : those who have tried to defend it—their Nestor is Porphyrio himself—have encountered insuperable difficulties. Magnum—to use Kiessling—Heinze's word—is patently ‘sinnlos’. Secondly, none of the proposed conjectures really satisfies. Maga non, as Kiessling-Heinze rightly note, is excluded by metrical reasons alone, not to mention its stylistic harshness ; magica, favoured by Kiessling-Heinze, is scarcely better : the epithet is tautological after venena, and if we accept the emendation we are compelled to postulate a very awkward zeugma (cf. Kiessling-Heinze and Wickham ad loc.). Thirdly, the corruption is pre-medieval, because Porphyrio already read magnum : if we have to apply palaeographical methods for the solution of the problem, we must reason in terms of Roman cursive.

A REFERENCE by the poet Martial to an abridged version of the history of Livy has given rise to the view that this epitome provided the main source for the transmission of Livy for those later writers of history whose requirements demanded an outline history of Rome. Such a view was first set out by Mommsen in 1861; he concluded that a large number of authors drew much of their material not from Livy directly but from a lost Epitome which departed at some points from the original in its composition. Other scholars followed his general thesis; indeed they have built upon it to such an extent that the list they compile of writers of Roman history who drew upon the ‘lost Epitome’ is a formidable one. These authors range from the period of Tiberius to the end of antiquity. They include such divergent writers as Valerius Maximus, Florus, Eutropius, the Auctor de viris illustribus, and Orosius, as well as the two known abbreviations made of Livy: the Periochae of the Oxyrhynchus Papyrus and the ‘fourth-century’ Periochae.

The main outlines of the story of the textual transmission of Quintilian's Institutio have long been clear and well known. A series of French manuscripts, dating from the ninth century on, present a mutilated text in which perhaps a third of the whole work is missing. One such manuscript, the Bambergensis (Bg), was taken from France in the tenth century and supplemented from a separate unmutilated stream that is also available to us in a ninth-century Ambrosian manuscript (A), now itself unfortunately damaged. The Bamberg manuscript generated in the following centuries further complete texts, but all these, as well as their earlier relations A and Bg, escaped scholarly detection in the fourteenth century: Petrarch and his contemporaries had to make do with mutili of the French type.

In his historical writings, Cluvius Rufus evidently found cause to criticize Verginius Rufus for his conduct on a particular occasion

‘Scis, Vergini, quae historiae fides debeatur; proinde, si quid in historiis meis legis aliter ac velles, rogo igmoscas’.

From his reply, it is clear that Verginius automatically understood Cluvius to be referring to an event to which he himself (Verginius) attached great significance:

‘Tune ignoras, Cluvi, ideo me fecisse, quod feci, ut esset liberum vobis scribere quae libuisset?’

The only evidence we have concerning the date of Porphyry's is that it was written during his stay in Sicily, which lasted from 268 until his return to Rome after Plotinus’ death in 270. How soon after is unknown. Castricius’ lapse from the vegetarianism of the Plotinian school and Porphyry's attempt to recall him to the fold with De Abstinentia should presumably be placed after Plotinus’ death, and Porphyry was still in Sicily at the time. Cassius Longinus’ letter from Phoenicia, apparently written after Plotinus’ death, seems to have found Porphyry still in Sicily. Thus he may still have been there in 271, or possibly even later. There is nothing to support the common view that he returned to Rome immediately or even soon after Plotinus’ death.

Despite Lachmann's attempt to place them in the second century, it is now generally agreed that the Fables of Avianus cannot have been written before the late fourth or early fifth century. The linguistic and metrical evidence is decisive. For these matters I merely refer to the material collected in the prefaces to the editions of Ellis and Hervieux. Though these works appeared in 1887 and 1894 respectively, when the study of Late Latin was in its infancy, I suspect that a fresh study with the aid of modern tools would serve only to confirm their conclusions.

The grammarian Caesellius Vindex, writing under Trajan, criticized Furius Antias for his newly coined verbs lutescere, noctescere, opulescere and vīrescere. Their meanings in classical Latin are classified by Nicolaie as follows: (a) becoming, (b) the intensification of a quality, (c) the acquisition of a quality. Their number increases in post-classical Latin, in which we also find them used causatively as transitive verbs, e.g. innotescere ‘make known’; Gellius' causative use of inolesco is mentioned below. Incohative verbs descend to Romance languages, where forms in -o and in -sco both contribute to some conjugations, e.g. Fr. finir, finissant; It. finire, finisco, and to English (‘finish’).