Mr. Last's very interesting note (Class. Quart. XVII., pp. 35–36) is so ingenious and the Egyptian evidence falls so pat that it deserves to be right, but I very much doubt if it is. In fact the Aithiopians do not stand alone, and the context of their longevity deserves consideration. If that context is recalled, it may appear that ‘to say that the legend was attached by the Greeks to the Aithiopians through their remoteness from the Mediterranean world is no explanation’ is itself a hard saying.

It has frequently been observed that the Prometheus Vinctus shows certain Sophoclean characteristics of rhythm. In order to vary the rhythm of his iambics and to avoid monotony, Sophocles often knits consecutive trimeters closely together by placing at the end of one line some word which looks forward to the next line, and so precludes the reader from stopping for the natural pause after the sixth foot. Sometimes he uses in this way subordinating words which introduce a dependent clause in the next line (Antig. 311); sometimes proclitics (O.C. 495) or quasi-proclitics (O.R. 267). (Sometimes, too, he even allows elision at the end of the trimeter, but this peculiarly Sophoclean device does not concern us now.)

In beginning to speak of Euripides in this University of Manchester, one's thoughts naturally turn to the work of Professor Norwood in this direction, and it is with an especially keen sense of pleasure that I find myself not only following in his footsteps—a long way after!—but helping in a small way to contribute some further confirmation to the views on Euripides established by him and Professor Verrall.

The motive of Clodius in attacking the validity of Caesar's laws in the latter part of 58 B.C. has been the subject of many conjectures on the part of modern historians. In a recent article1 Pocock has propounded a new theory as to the position and policy of the turbulent tribune, which is highly suggestive and deserving of a careful consideration. In the first place Pocock, in opposition to all previous historians, flatly denies that Clodius made any such attack at all, and offers a new explanation of the passage in Cicero's speech for his house where this is asserted. In the oration in question Cicero declares that Clodius called Bibulus before the people and by the testimony of the former consul showed that all Caesar's laws had been passed in disregard of the auspices, drawing from this the conclusion that they should all be annulled by the senate. If the conscript fathers would do this, Clodius offered to bring Cicero back on his own shoulders as the saviour of his country.2 Pocock believes that Cicero has flagrantly misrepresented Clodius and wilfully distorted his meaning. Some of Cicero's friends had denied the legality of Clodius' tribuneship and hence of the great orator's exile, and what Clodius did was to demonstrate that this denial logically involved the repudiation of all the Julian legislation. His offer to bring back Cicero was an ironical difiance, and amounted to telling the nobles that they had better not raise such a question unless they had the courage to cancel all Caesar's laws, something which he knew that they would not dare to do.

The twenty-four lines of this poem have been preserved only by the cod. Sangallensis 878 (variously assigned to saec. IX or IX-XI or XI-XII), whence it was edited in 1863 by K. SchenklSitzungsb. d. phil.-hist. Cl. d. kais. Akad. d. Wissensch. (Vienna) XLIII p. 71. A single line, the last, exists also in the cod. Bernensis 108 saec. IX. Fifteen survive in a MS of the 17th century now divided into two parts, Barberinus (or Barberinianus) XXXI 39 and Vaticanus 9135, the former containing the hexameters 3, 5, 15, 17, 19, 21, 23 and a spurious hexameter in lieu of 1, the latter the pentameters 2, 4,14,16,18, 20, 22, 24. The eight consecutive lines 6-13 are therefore missing from both ; and in this imperfect and interpolated form the poem was edited by Mommsen with Haupt's assistance inC.I.L. I p. 411.

I AM glad that Dr. Fotheringham in the interesting paper which appeared in the Classical Quarterly (April, 1920, pp. 97–8) adhered to the view that ‘Caesar calculated the new moon for January 1 [45 B.C]…and that this calculation determined the inaugural day of the Julian calendar.’ As the object of my brief note, on which he commented, was merely to show that Groebe had failed to prove that the day in question was January 2, I have only a few questions to ask. But first, in justice to Judeich, I ought to say that his calculations, which Dr. Fotheringham notices, were made with the help of the assistant-astronomer attached to the observatory of the University of Strassburg. While Dr. Fotheringham admits that I was right in maintaining that the new moon of January 2, 45 B.C. (1.26 a.m.) was not visible on the evening of that day, he holds that Groebe was ‘fairly entitled to say’ that the new moon of March 24, 58 B.C. (4.40 p.m.), was visible on March 25. Dr. Fotheringham may be justified in saying that it ought ‘in normal [or abnormally fine ?] weather to have been visible that evening’; but, as I observed in my note, Groebe affirmed that in calculating the time of visibility of the crescent we should accept the mean of the Babylonian estimates, 36 hours—less, I should have added, in the early spring and the winter, more in the summer and autumn. Was he entitled to deduct 9 hours from the mean for an observation made not in the clear atmosphere of the East, but in Switzerland? Dr. Fotheringham tells us that ‘the shortest interval between a new moon and the observation of the moon by Schmidt's naked eye comes’ not, as Groebe said, to 29, but ‘to 25.7 hours.’ But forty-eight of Schmidt's forty-nine observations were made at Athens, where the atmosphere is clearer than in Switzerland. The great difference in visibility which a clear atmosphere makes must strike everyone who goes from this country or from Switzerland to the East or to Northern Africa. I realized it for the first time when I was exploring in Tunisia before the war. Has Dr. Fotheringham or any other trustworthy observer ever seen with the naked eye in an atmosphere no clearer than that of Geneva a moon not more than 27 hours old? If so, is it not remarkable that, as Dr. Fotheringham has said, ‘Hitherto it has been the practice to assume that [in the early spring or the winter and in favourable weather ?] the moon becomes visible on the first evening when she is more than 30 hours old at sunset’?

The problem of man's early existence and of the value of culture is discussed in one of the post-classical tragedies, and the answer given is definitely anti-primitivistic.

The longest and most remarkable of Moschion's fragments deals with man's development (fr. 6 N2/Sn., ap. Stob. 1. 8. 38) and runs to 33 well-constructed iambics containing throughout not a single resolved foot. It is uncertain whether Moschion belongs to the fourth or third century b.c. Nevertheless, his account is consistent with the conscious affirmations of progress which were widely attested in the fifth and fourth centuries b.c.

Heroides 9 takes the form of a letter sent by Deianira to Hercules as a reinforcement to the tunic smeared with Nessus' blood which she has already dispatched in the mistaken belief that it will revive the hero's love for her. In this epistle she tries to persuade her husband to give up his latest girlfriend (Iole) by showing him that she loves him, by arousing pity for herself, and by making him feel ashamed of his philandering and see that he thereby disgraces himself. Obviously there is pathos here, particularly as the deaths of Hercules and Deianira loom in the background, but there is also wit, irony, and (especially dark) humour, creating a piquant tonal mixture which has been almost entirely neglected by critics. They have seen the sadness, and some of the irony (which is taken to be purely tragic), but they have not grasped the facetious aspects, whereby our irreverent poet ensures that the piece does not lapse into mawkishness and engages the head as well as the heart.

Cecropids, grammatically masculine in one case and feminine in the other, occur in each of these pieces of poetry. I believe that the second passage can shed some light on the meaning of the term as it is used in the fragment from the Antiope of Eubulus. The question of the significance of the Cecropids in Eubulus has previously been discussed by E. K. Borthwick. A. B. Cook, noting the similarity of κερκώπη (a term designating a type of cicada) to the name of Cecrops and seeing their associations with dew as a link between the insects and the names (Herse, Pandrosus) of Cecrops' daughters, had posited a connection between the autochthonous Athenian family of Cecrops and the earth-born cicadas, those symbols of Athenian autochthony. Borthwick applied Cook's theory to the passage from Eubulus and concluded that when the poet mentions the Cecropids that feed on the breezes he is alluding to the musical cicadas, who were believed to subsist on dew and/or air. It was this latter feature of their diet, Borthwick proposed, that inspired the last line of the fragment.

The interpretation of these words is important for understanding the meaning of in Aristotle. For here, exceptionally, it has been taken to refer to sense-perceptions rather than images.

I quote the Oxford translation of 462a15–24 (by J. I. Beare): ‘From all this, then, the conclusion to be drawn is that the dream is a sort of presentation (), and, more particularly, one which occurs in sleep; since the phantoms just mentioned are not dreams, nor is any other a dream which presents itself when the sense-perceptions are in a state of freedom. Nor is every presentation which occurs in sleep necessarily a dream.

There is in the British Museum a twelfth-century manuscript, Egerton 3055, of Suetonius' De Vita Caesarum which has not previously been noticed by editors or in the reports of manuscripts of Suetonius made by Professor C. L. Smith and Professor A. A. Howard, though summarily classified by E. G. Millar.

‘As regards the exegetai three (in number) let the four tribes nominate four (men) each (man) from their own personnel, and let them (i.e. the State) scrutinize whichever three gain most votes and send nine to Delphi to appoint one from each group of three; the scrutiny and the age-qualification shall be the same for them as for the priests. Let these be exegetai for life; as regards a vacancy let the preliminary election be made by the four tribes in which the vacancy may occur.’

Suetonius records that as Vespasian lay on his death-bed his dying words were Vae puto deus fio (Vespas. 23. 4). If we assume that Vespasian could hardly have believed that he was literally destined for divinity, it is an open question what exactly he intended by this remark. As a general rule scholars seem to have interpreted it as a sarcastic sneer at deification: one reads for example such statements as ‘Historically we do not associate the reign of Vespasian with the Emperor Cult.

In late c.e. 467 Sidonius Apollinaris journeyed from Lyon to Rome. An account of his journey appears in Epist. 1.5. Sidonius made his way to the city by boat and imperial post horses, arriving during the nuptial celebrations of the Emperor Anthemius’ daughter Alypia and the barbarian potentate Ricimer. The wedding linked Ricimer, who had held significant political power in the interregnum after the death of Libius Severus (461–465), to the new emperor in the West, Anthemius, whom the eastern Roman emperor, Leo I, had just appointed.