‘The most interesting excavated site, after Al Mina—Posideion, is Tarsus. This area may yet hold the key to many important problems, and provide firm associations between East and West which will give fixed points for early Greek history and chronology’ (Dunbabin, The Greeks and their Eastern Neighbours 33).

The publication of Tarsus iii (reviewed later in this volume) offers scholars the opportunity to judge how far the high hopes entertained for the absolute dating of Greek pottery found in the town destroyed by Sennacherib in 696 B.C. have been fulfilled. Hanfmann, who publishes the pottery, had already given some indication of the results in The Aegean and the Near East, 165 ff., a volume dedicated to Hetty Goldman, excavator of Tarsus. Some of the results seemed a little disturbing, like the appearance of East Greek bird bowls with rays before 696 B.C. With the publication we can see that the dating for Protocorinthian pottery of the end of the eighth century is moved back at least a quarter century (pp. 115, 129, 308), while the disturbance to the bird bowl series suggests even more radical changes, leaving something of a vacuum in the first half of the seventh century, so far as the usually accepted dates of Protocorinthian and East Greek pottery are concerned. Hanfmann does not pursue all the implications of this, nor was it his task to in this book. Fortunately the quality of the publication makes it possible to study these problems in some detail, to evaluate the evidence of the pottery and stratigraphy, and even to suggest possible accounts, different from those of the publishers, for the years around 696 B.C. In what follows I have taken Payne's chronology for Protocorinthian as the standard since none of the detailed attempts to upset it seem to me to have been at all successful, while much new evidence has appeared to confirm it. Dunbabin's.remarks on the possible margins of error have also to be remembered (in AE 1953–54 247 ff.).

This paper is an attempt to interpret certain stones, which have come to light recently on ancient sites in Karia, as parts of ancient oil-presses, on the ground that they are well adapted to fulfil certain purposes which are still essential to the modern native process of oil extraction in that part of Asia Minor and in the adjacent islands. The inference is that the ancient process closely resembled the modern in the principal features which are recounted below.

The Modern Method of extracting olive oil consists of the two processes of grinding and pressing.

In the most primitive mode of grinding which is still in use, the olives are crushed either on a flat stone by a roller, or in a stone trough by a millstone rolling on its edge. In more modern grinders two mill-stones are used, which revolve in a circular trough, as in the grinding of kaolin or cement. The process of grinding seems never to have varied, except as regards the power which is employed; horses having been substituted for men, and steam for horses. In Algeria and Tripoli the circular trough goes back at least to Roman times.

The speeches concerning the Mytilenean revolt in Thucydides III present three speakers trying to justify or commend a decision: they are, in Aristotelian terms, examples of symbuleutic oratory. The purpose of such oratory is naturally to identify the right course of action, to achieve ϵὐβουλία. But Thucydides is writing about facts; he is also intensely aware of human nature, a force more powerful than reason. So his characters cannot be simply models of wisdom. They are human beings, and they feel the pressure of war or empire. Thus the rhetoric which they employ to convince their hearers is for the historian a way of discovering to his readers the limits, or the failures, as well as the powers, of reasoning; and in this exposure of human weakness Thucydides' work is both rationalistic and tragic, an analysis of human error, be it corrigible or otherwise. If, then, he puts into his speakers' mouths the arguments he himself thought they should have used (i 22.1 τὰ δέοντα), he does so in the service of historical truth (i 22.4 τὸ σαφές). Reality is portrayed realistically, through a portrayal of the minds of those who were part of it; for all action must originate from beliefs and be contemplated through them. Further, the complex or problematical nature of reality is mirrored in his speakers' opposing interpretations of the issues at stake.

The origin of the little code for the government of Byzantine agriculturists, which is known in the manuscripts as the Farmer's Law (νόμος γϵωργικός), has occasioned some difference of opinion among the learned men who have dealt with it. The greatest authority on Byzantine law, Zachariä von Lingenthal, changed his mind on the subject. He began by thinking it the work of a private hand—the compiler of the Appendix Eclogae—and assigning it to the eighth or ninth century (Historiae Juris Graeco-Romami Delineatio, p. 32). It was put together, in his opinion, partly from the legislation of Justinian and partly from local custom. According to his last view (Geschichte des Griechisch-römischen Rechts, 3rd ed. pp. 249 sqq.) it is a product of the legislative activity of the emperors Leo and Constantine and was enacted about the year 740 A.D.

The idea of the ‘unity of opposites’ allows one to see important connections between phenomena normally treated separately: verbal style, ritual, tragic action and cosmology. The stylistic figure of Satzparallelismus in lamentation and mystic ritual expresses the unity of opposites (particularly of life and death) as oxymora. Both rituals were factors in the genesis of tragedy, and continued to influence the style and action of mature tragedy. The author advances new readings of various passages of the Oresteia, which is seen to advocate the replacement of a Herakleitean model of the unity of opposites with a Pythagorean model of their reconciliation.

The ‘scrutiny of all the laws’ that Andocides invokes in his defence On the Mysteries is usually interpreted as a recodification with the aim of barring prosecution for the crimes of civil conflict. This article advances four theses against that traditional reading: (1) In Andocides' argument the Scrutiny was designed for a more practicable purpose, not to pardon crimes unpunished but to quash any further action against former atimoi, those penalized under the old regime but restored to rights in 403. In context, coming close upon the summary of Patrocleides' decree, ‘all the laws’ means all laws affecting atimoi. (2) The other evidence from inscriptions and literary testimony, for the Athenian Amnesty and similar agreements, supports this reading: the oath that closed the covenants, mê mnêsikakein, functions as a rule of estoppel or ‘no reprise’; it was not in itself a pledge of ‘political forgiveness’. In regard to the Scrutiny, as in Patrocleides' decree, the oath means that old penalties, now cancelled, can never again be enforced. (3) The Scrutiny itself was a reauthorization of the old laws for summary arrest and other standard remedies against atimoi who trespass or violate their restrictions. As a corollary to this re-enactment, the statute of limitations was introduced, ‘to apply the laws from Eucleides’: the rules punishing the disfranchised cannot be used against those whose liabilities were incurred before 403. (4) Teisamenus' decree for new legislation was prior to this revision; it is not the decree that Andocides read to the court as a document of the Scrutiny. An ancient editor simply inserted the wrong document. Teisamenus envisioned no alteration of the ‘Solonian Code’; the decree for Scrutiny was an unforeseen but necessary correction. These measures were successive reforms sorting out the new hierarchy of rules, a process whose complexity is attested in Diocles' law.

In an article entitled ‘The Career of Erasistratus of Ceos’ in Rendiconti del Istituto Lombardo (Classe di Lettere e Scienze Morali e Storiche, 103, 1969, pp. 518–37, abbreviated as RL) and more briefly in his three-volume work on Ptolemaic Alexandria (Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1972, Vol. 1 pp. 347 ff. and relevant notes in Vol. 2 pp. 503 ff., abbreviated as PA I and PA II), P. M. Fraser has recently re-examined the evidence concerning the life and work of the important third-century B.C. physician, anatomist and physiologist Erasistratus of Ceos. Fraser's analysis of the testimonies for the various Chrysippi is valuable; his insistence that there are no good grounds for rejecting the story, told in several ancient writers, that Erasistratus cured King Antiochus is not misplaced, and the conclusion that at some stage, at least, Erasistratus worked at Antioch should surely be accepted.

This paper is prompted by a careful study of the ancient evidence and of the waters and coasts of the Salamis Channel, which has led me to a new conception of the battle. I proceed from the assumption that the ancient evidence is sound and that, if it is interpreted with respect, it provides a fairly close framework for the course of the battle. To this framework some additions can be made by means of local knowledge, whether gained at first or at second hand. The paper is divided into five sections: the topography of the Salamis Channel, the evidence for the battle, the manoeuvres of the day and the night before the battle, the day of battle, and an Epilogue with an Appendix on the new Scholia to the Persae.

The hypothesis of Cratinus' Διονυσαλέξανδρος (POxy 663), one of the most important pieces of evidence for non-Aristophanic comedy, raises many problems, some of which, notably the reconstruction of the pre-parabatic plot and the staging problems in the κρίσις-scene, have received a fair amount of scholarly attention. I propose to look at a feature of this play to which much less thought has been devoted in print, but which, I believe, is central to an appreciation and understanding of it: the significance of costume and costume-change.

In the 460s BC an unnamed artist painted an unusual oinochoe with a unique scene–a Greek chasing an Oriental archer–that marks an important stage in the development of symbolic imagery in the arts of early Classical Greece. This oinochoe of unusual shape (Plate 8a-b), now in Hamburg, was first published by Konrad Schauenburg. On side A, a bearded Greek hunter, running ¾-view to the right, clutches his phallos in his right hand and reaches his left arm toward an Oriental archer, on side B. The archer stands ¾-view to the right, bent at the hips, with his upper body in a rare frontal pose, and his hands raised to his head. A curious inscription fills the space between the two characters. Two equally plausible restorations of the inscription, each of which carries its own divergent interpretation of the images, have emerged: the original publication by Schauenburg and a response by Gloria Pinney.

This article is concerned with the antecedents to the formation of the group known as οἱ Ἀθηναῖοι καὶ οἱ σύμμαχοι, and correctly styled the (First) Athenian Alliance (in distinction from the Second Athenian Alliance) and with the problems of its constitutional arrangements. So much has been written in the knowledge of subsequent events—by Herodotus, Thucydides and modern scholars—that it is particularly difficult for us to see this topic in its historical perspective, that is to see how the Athenian Alliance grew out of what went before. For example, the hegemony enjoyed by Athens in the Alliance has been described by many as the means by which she was later to fulfil her imperialistic ambitions, but few have studied its powers in relation to earlier examples of hegemony; yet it must have been these earlier examples of hegemony which were active in men's minds in 478/7 B.C. After a section, A, on the nature of the evidence, I therefore keep to the historical order and discuss in section B the campaign of Mycale down to the capture of Sestus; in section C the operations under Pausanias and the change of hegemony; in section D the creation of the Athenian Alliance; and in section E the relationship between Athens and the Allies.

The paper has two main aims, one larger and one slightly narrower. The larger aim is to undermine further a tendency that has dogged the interpretation of Platonic political philosophy in modern times, despite some dissenting voices: the tendency to begin from the assumption that Plato's thinking changed and developed over time, as if we already had privileged access to his biography. The slightly narrower aim is to reply to two charges of intellectual parricide made against Plato. The first is explicit and well known: that he recommended political structures of a sort that would exclude the free-ranging philosophical inquiry sponsored by Socrates. The second is implicit in the standard reading of the Politicus, and says that Plato actually came to approve (however reluctantly) of Athens' execution of his teacher. I argue that the relevant passage (Plt. 297C - 302B) has been misunderstood, and that it is in fact fully consistent with the blanket criticism we find in the Republic of all existing forms of constitution. The Athenian democracy still got it wrong, both in general, and in making the particular decision to kill off old Socrates. I also argue that so far from proposing to abolish Socratic inquiry, Plato's political works as a whole (Republic, Politicus and Laws included) are actually designed to show the need for it.

About a year ago I paid a hurried visit to the Cyclades, with the purpose of ascertaining how far they would repay a more lengthened sojourn; and having satisfied myself that no part of Greece offered a better field for examination than the islands of the Aegaean sea, this last winter I undertook to visit the Cyclades one by one—no trifling matter when we consider that there are twenty-two of them, and only two of them have anything like hotel accommodation.

The objects of interest there to be studied may be conveniently classed under four distinct heads, and every one of these interests is essentially due to the position of the islands, as the stepping-stones used in all ages before the invention of steam between Europe and Asia.

A committee has been set up under the auspices of the British Academy with the object of compiling a prosopography of the later Roman Empire (A.D. 284-641). Its object is to do for the later Empire what the Prosopographia Imperii Romani has done for the Principate, to provide the materials for the study of the governing class of the Empire. The majority of the entries will be persons holding official posts or rank together with their families, and the work will not include clerics except in so far as they come into the above categories.

Forensic oratory must of necessity deal with the subject of law, and rhetoric which aspires to be of use in the courts must offer the potential litigant or logographer guidance on the way to deal with questions of law. Accordingly, Aristotle devotes some space to this issue in the Rhetoric. Although the morality of Aristotle's advice has been debated, little attention has been paid to the more basic question of the soundness of his advice. The aim of this paper is to examine Aristotle's presentation of the rhetoric of law in the Rhetoric in comparison with actual practice in surviving forensic speeches. The fourth century Rhetorica ad Alexandrum, commonly ascribed to Anaximenes of Lampsakos, also offers advice on the manipulation of argument from law, and the general similarity of that advice to Aristotle's suggests either direct influence or a common source. Anaximenes' discussion of the use of law in forensic oratory is both more brief and less systematic, and will be given more cursory treatment.

L. 1 fin. Apparently ΠΙ perhaps ΕΠΙ. L. 2 init. The fork of the upsilon is just visible. L. 6 fin. Τ or Π.

Too little remains to permit a reconstruction, but we have evidently a fragment of a regulation concerning catches of fish. (I take it that ἰχθύν in l. 3 is collective.) There can be little doubt that we have here evidence of a dalyan at Caunus in antiquity as to-day. (See Part I, p. 14 n. 15.) The fish are principally of two kinds, kefal and levrek, both excellent eating; in the summer and winter respectively they go up from the sea to the lake to spawn, and returning some two months later are caught in huge quantities. Wherever exactly the bed of the river may have lain in ancient times, there is no reason to suppose that the habits of the fish were any different then. For ancient fisheries in Asia Minor see Broughton, Economic Survey IV, 566, 799.

It is the purpose of this paper to draw the attention of classical scholars to an Arabic theory of prophecy and divination which, though known for a long time in the original text and in modern translation, has quite escaped the notice of those interested in the history of late Greek philosophy and its continuation in mediæval Islam. I mean here by prophecy and divination, like the Arabic author I am going to deal with, all kinds of apparently supernatural knowledge, concerned with the realm of the transcendent as well as with particular events in the future and special happenings at the present time. The possessors of this knowledge are characterised as individuals of a peculiar excitability and a range of imagination which exceeds the normal. Attempts at explaining phenomena of this kind in rational terms were not uncommon in Greek philosophy from Plato's days down to late Neoplatonism. I propose to show that the Arabic theory continues these Greek discussions and to suggest that it represents, at the same time, a facet of Greek thought which has not survived in its original context.

Al-Fārābῑ (c. A.D. 870–950), a well-known Muslim Neoplatonist and Aristotelian of outstanding importance in the history of Islamic philosophy, deals at some length with prophecy in his work The Views of the People of the Best State. Since, in accordance with the Greek tradition, he connects divination and prophecy with an innate faculty of the soul itself, and does not describe it as a state of possession by supernatural powers, his explanation of these phenomena is linked up with his analysis of man and his Neoplatonic-Aristotelian metaphysics. Prophecy is auxiliary to the rational faculty and as such an indispensable ingredient in man's perfection; divine inspiration (wahy) can be understood as the union of the highest philosophical knowledge with the highest form of prophecy; but the primacy of reason and philosophy is maintained, prophecy being confined to the faculty of imagination, which is given a less humble position than in Aristotle's De anima, but still ranked as inferior to philosophy.

In this paper an attempt is made to establish the chronology which Herodotus intended to convey for events in Book vii on the basis of his arrangement of topics for a listening audience. The relationship of the Decree to those events is then discussed. The question of the authenticity of the Decree's contents is considered with special reference to the arrangements for manning the fleet. Thus the paper falls into three parts. An Appendix on the later tradition is added.

Of the themes of the Byzantine Empire there exists in Greek only one systematic account, the confused and discursive work of Constantine Porphyrogennetos, from which little trustworthy information as to the history of the themes before the accession of the Macedonian dynasty can be gathered. The same author has also preserved a table of precedence drawn up by Philotheos the protospatharios in the year 899, which includes the generals of the various themes existing at that time; and he has himself given us a record of the salaries paid to the generals in the time of Leo VI. This lack of information may, however, be in part supplied from the Arab geographers, who provide us with five catalogues of the themes, the earliest of which, that of Ibn Khurdadhbah, is fifty years earlier than the list of Philotheos and about one hundred years earlier than Constantine's work. With this catalogue that of Al Idrisi (1154) is practically identical. The other three are that of Ibn Al Fakih Al Hamadhani (circ. 902), preserved in the Geographical Dictionary of Yakut (1224), that of Kudama (circ. 930), and that contained in the Khitab Al Tanbih wal Ishraf (Book of celebration and observation) of Al Mas‘udi (956). Of these descriptions those of Ibn Khurdadhbah and Kudama have been translated into French by Prof. De Goeje, and that of Al Mas‘udi by M. Carra de Vaux; of that of Ibn Al Fakih I give a translation below.

Xenophon's account of Euphron, tyrant at Sicyon from 368 to 366, appears to present him as a typical fourth-century ‘new tyrant’, dependent on mercenaries and concerned solely with his own power. But why did Xenophon choose to recount Euphron's actions and fate at such length, and why does he insist so strongly that he was a tyrant? Xenophon's interest in Euphron is part of his general approach to tyranny in the Hellenica, which depicts a series of individuals and regimes, all described as tyrannies. The model of tyranny with which Xenophon operates is broader and more inclusive than we would expect, contrasting with the narrow, constitutional idea of tyranny defined by Aristotle. Understanding this has two consequences. It allows us to appreciate Euphron in a new light, giving credit to the positive tradition about his support for the Sicyonian democracy and his posthumous heroization; we can see the debate which existed in his own time about his role and position. It also raises the question of why Xenophon recognized tyranny in so many places, and was so keen to emphasize his construction of these regimes. We need to situate him within the evolution of ideas about tyranny, since the concept of tyranny is largely constructed by historians: Herodotus ‘created’ tyranny in the aftermath of the Persian Wars, while Thucydides developed the concept from the individual to the general, as this better fitted his Athenocentric model. Xenophon, in contrast, was reflecting contemporary debates over the interpretation of different types of ruler and regime, and developing his own theory of tyranny. Therefore to see a ‘new tyranny’ movement in the fourth century is misplaced: an examination of Euphron reveals the complexities of self-presentation in fourth-century Greek politics.