This paper focuses on two problems connected with our sources for Athenian politics between 510/09 and 488/7 B.C.:

(i) In the Athenaion Politeia attributed to Aristotle (henceforth Ath.), ostracism is included in the laws of Cleisthenes (22.1). But later (22.3) the author of the Ath. dates the first ostracism (that of Hipparchus, son of Charmus) to the year 488/7. Depending on the date of Cleisthenes' laws, this leaves a gap of thirteen to twenty years between the institution of ostracism and its first use. Yet the very nature of the law suggests that it was passed for immediate use.

(ii) Cleisthenes' rival, Isagoras, is described in Ath. 20.1 as φίλος τῶν τυράννων. This label conflicts with two details in the political struggle. It involves Cleomenes, who had recently expelled the tyrants from Athens, in an astounding volte-face in supporting one who is known as φίλος τῶν τνράννων. Secondly, Isagoras had had the opportunity of imposing by force the kind of government he wanted—but it was an oligarchy (Hdt. v 72.1, Ath. 20.3: a council of three hundred), not a tyranny. How did the inappropriate label originate?

The reaction of most scholars to the first problem has been to reject the ascription of ostracism to Cleisthenes in Ath. 22.1 and 22.4 and date the institution of ostracism to shortly before the first recorded ostracism.

This paper is an amplification of that much quoted passage of Thucydides ἐπορεύθησαν δὲ πεƷῇ ἐς Ἀπολλωνίαν. Of this land route, which enabled the Corinthians to get troops up to Epidamnus in despite of Corcyra, we know something andcan guess more, and in view of the undoubted importance of this part of the Greek world to Corinth, it may be worth while to try to fit the isolated facts together and reconstruct a picture of a short phase of Epirote and Acarnanian history in the latter half of the fifth century. It is certain that the north-west ranked as one of Corinth's vital interests. There is no need to quote other evidence when there is the specific statement of the Corinthian ambassador before the Athenian demos that it was a necessity for Corinth to sail to Corcyra. It is beyond the scope of this paper to enquire why this was so; all that is here attempted is a correlation of the facts about the land route, how Corinth and Apollonia contrived to open it, how Corinth and Ambracia tried to keep it open, and how by the end of the Archidamian War Athens had succeeded in closing it. The evidence is not copious, but of good quality; Thucydides is contemporary, Pausanias quotes contemporary sources, and the mountains, rivers, and valleys of the north-west are silent witnesses.

The route falls naturally into three parts, the Acarnanian, the Epirote, and the Illyrian. It will be convenient to consider the Acarnanian section first, and the other two sections in the order mentioned.

In the summer of 1950 it proved possible to continue the British excavations at Mycenae which had been suspended in 1939 owing to the war. The Greek Government courteously granted the necessary permission and Dr. Papademetriou, Ephor of Antiquities for Argolis, and Mr. Petsas cooperated most cordially throughout. The work was carried out under the aegis of the British School at Athens which made a generous grant towards the funds and Mr. J. M. Cook, the Director, and Mr. Sinclair Hood, the Assistant-Director, who both took part in the excavations, afforded all possible assistance.

The excavations were especially concerned with the following points: the further exploration, within and without the Cyclopean walls, of the Prehistoric Cemetery to which belonged the royal Shaft Graves found by Schliemann; an attempt to trace the line of the Middle Bronze Age wall of the earliest citadel which preceded the Cyclopean fortress; the re-examination of Tsountas' House, an important building within the walls first excavated in 1886; the clearing of the Epano Phournos tholos tomb; the further exploration of the Cyclopean Terrace Building discovered in 1923; and the investigation of a newly discovered building, now known as the House of Stirrup Jars, near the so-called Tomb of Clytemnestra. The architect of the expedition, Mr. Charles Hobbis, R.I.B.A., also assisted the Greek authorities at their request in the conservation and repairs in progress at the Tomb of Clytemnestra and the Lion Gate.

The era of the city begins in the autumn of 47 B.C. Hence this coin, which is struck in high relief, dates from the second year of the reign of Trajan (autumn 98–99 A.D.). The head is not a likeness. The inscription on the reverse identifies the goddess represented with the Ἐκκλησία of the Aigeaians, a personification which has not hitherto, as far as I know, occurred on coins.

2. 26. Bust of the Caesar, laureate, to right, wearing cuirass and draped.

Rev. 1. in the field. Tyche seated to left, wearing a turreted crown and veil. In her right, a small temple represented in profile, with a statue under the arch of the façade and an eagle on the pediment. At the feet of the goddess a goat lying to left, its head reverted.

Ten years ago an article in these pages stressed the importance of detailed analysis of the traditions involving the Carians, and archaeological evidence was used to check the assertions of the literary record. In that instance the extremer version of the tradition in question was shown to be largely inexact, while the less extreme preserved the probable truth of the Carians' habitual use of certain military devices. That the ghost of pan-Carianism should be well and truly laid is all to the good; yet I hope to show here that the literary record, such as it is, of the presence of Carians in the Lydian capital is reasonably substantiated by the archaeological and epigraphic material.

Herodotos' Carian source pointed to an old relationship between the Lydians and Carians, symbolised by the temple of Carian Zeus at Mylasa and by the kinship of the eponymous heroes Car and Lydus. According to this source linguistic affinities existed between Lydians and Carians. In Strabo's time Lydians and Carians together inhabited the plain of the Maeander, though the Carians evidently exercised sole possession of the land to the south of the river. In the late seventh and sixth centuries, however, Lydians and Carians lived cheek by jowl in Aphrodisias, and there is good archaeological and epigraphic evidence for a Lydian community in the city. Whether this means that we must attempt to redraw the boundary between Lydian- and Carian-speakers (if such a boundary is logically acceptable) or whether the Lydians represented a trading community in a foreign (if friendly) city, remains to be seen. There is some evidence to suggest that Carians were present in archaic Smyrna, and epigraphic documentation for their presence, if not in Ephesos, at any rate at Belevi. They had a natural interest in their northern neighbours.

The speeches of Critias and Theramenes form the central tableau of Xenophon's account of the reign of terror of the Thirty at Athens in 404–3 B.C. The purpose of the present paper is to examine the style and content of these speeches, in order to discover to what extent they may have been based on the texts of the original speeches. The vividness and pathos of the narrative of the siege of Athens, her surrender, the establishment of the Thirty and their expulsion have seemed to some commentators to have the quality of personal reminiscence. Recently the case for Xenophon's having been a witness of some of the events of this period has been argued anew, and in the present writer's view convincingly, by E. Delebecque, who refers to several passages which seem to convey personal impressions of events. Delebecque also argues, to the satisfaction of Sir Frank Adcock, that Xenophon composed this part of the Hellenica before setting out on the Cyreian Expedition. The acceptance of both these theses would add some weight to the present argument; but the possibilities here envisaged do not depend upon their support.

According to Xenophon's account, both speeches were delivered before the βουλή. The members of this body had been chosen by the Thirty, so that it seems certain that they were men who were known to favour the oligarchy. But whatever were Xenophon's political views at the time, it is unlikely that he was old enough to be a member in 404 B.C. Hence it is improbable that he heard either speech. Four possibilities may therefore be considered:

(1) That the substance of the speeches was reported to him from memory by a member, who perhaps took special pains to remember some of the purple passages.

(2) That his informant took the speeches down in shorthand.

(3) That Xenophon obtained complete copies of the speeches, and condensed them. (Both speeches as they stand are too short to be historical.)

(4) That the speeches in the Hellenica are entirely the product of his imagination.

Lines 380–7 have been much discussed, sometimes in isolation, without due regard for context in speech, scene, and play; and sometimes with regard primarily to the history of ideas, or of Greek moral values. Phaidra states that virtue may be subverted, despite knowledge, by pleasure, of which αὶδώς—dual, harmless and harmful—is an instance. A notorious problem of interpretation centres on the related questions of how αὶδώς, shame can be listed among ήδοναί, pleasures; and of what is meant by dual αὶδώς. The interpretation here advanced is bold, but in essence simple: in this context, αὶδώς is a euphemistic metonymy for ἔρως, which is harmless and pleasurable in its proper place (allied with sexual σωφροσύνη), but potentially troublesome or painful (bringing sexual αὶσχύνη).

From what sources did Herodotus draw the materials for his history? At what date or dates did he compose it? These inquiries have an endless fascination for the student of Herodotus, which is not lessened by the fact that they admit of no certain answer. The combinations which will be suggested in this paper have, so far as I know, not been suggested before; but if, as is extremely likely, they have already been made, there is always a certain interest in the fact that two inquirers, working independently, have come to the same conclusions.

It is not necessary to give evidence of the fact that Herodotus himself was highly satisfied with his own sources of information as to Persian history, and that he considered he could speak with authority upon it. (Cf. e.g. i. 95.) Nor is it necessary to give evidence for the view that Herodotus had on some points official or semi-official Persian information: e.g. in his account of the satrapies in Bk. III., of the Royal Road in Bk. V., and of the Persian army in Bk. VII.

These two points will be assumed, and also that Herodotus is a trustworthy witness, that he reports truly what he has heard, without exaggeration or suppression, and that he had some idea of the differing value of various witnesses.

One of the best Greek vases we possess is the amphora No. 2160 in the Berlin Museum (Fig. 1 and Pll. XV.–XVI). There is something specially charming about these graceful woodland people, the dreaming Silens and their instruments of music, young Hermes with winged head and feet, the gentle fawn. The question, however, who painted the piece, has been variously answered. Furtwängler, in his catalogue, thought of Brygos, but some years later he attributed the vase to the painter called Kleophrades; and Winter said it was by Euphronios. A year ago, the present writer indicated five other vases by the same hand; and he now proposes to examine the work of this anonymous painter, who may be called the Master of the Berlin amphora; for although we possess a fair number of his paintings, none is quite so elaborate as this, though some of them are rightly admired.

A new approach to the ancient world is only too often a wrong approach, unless it is based on some concrete discovery. But I think it fair to talk of new perspectives, at least, in the study of Greek mythology. Certainly the old and familiar ones are no longer adequate. Indeed it is surprising, in the light of fresh intuitions about society, literacy, the pre-Homeric world, and relations with the ancient Near East, that myth—one of the most pervasive aspects of Greek culture—has been left in its old and rather cobwebby pigeon-hole. Rose's simple paraphrases are accepted as adequate for students; Nilsson's sparse pages in his history of religion are rightly respected, though some of them are too simple; the Murray-Cook-Harrison-Cornford reconstruction of religion, ritual and myth is regarded as a little excessive, but perhaps not too far out; Kerényi and Eliade are roughly tolerated, if not widely read by Classicists, and their books are ordered in profusion for the library; the psychological side is adequately taken care of, or so it is supposed, by what is left from Freud and Jung, with Cassirer as sufficient authority for the sources of mythical imagination.

Many of these critics had their moments of brilliant insight, but most were misleading in their theories taken as a whole. We can now accept that many myths have ritual counterparts, and some have ritual origins, without having to adopt Cornford's belief, developed after Harrison, Frazer and Robertson Smith, that all myths are such.

Fire-festivals are widespread throughout the world. They occur in Europe to the present day. Bonfires are kindled at certain times of the year, especially in Lent and on St. John's Day. Sometimes the fire is kindled on a hill or a mountain-top, sometimes in the plain or in the village; often a figure with varying names is burnt, and in some countries living beasts were once burnt in the flames of the pyre.

The fire-festivals of ancient Greece have not attracted much attention among scholars. The custom is not very common, it varies considerably in details and has been appropriated by different deities in different localities, so that the identity of the rite has been obscured. The best known cases are from Central Greece. In the cult of Artemis Laphria at Patrae, formerly at Calydon, living beasts—birds, boars, stags, wolves, bears, and their young—were thrown into the flames of a great pyre. In the cult of the same goddess at Hyampolis in Phocis human images and other paraphernalia were laid on the pyre. On the top of Mount Cithaeron a pyre was built with great care, a wooden image, called Hera, was brought thither in grand procession from the town of Plataeae, and sometimes other images from other Boeotian towns were added. On the spot each town offered an ox to Zeus and a cow to Hera; these were filled with incense, and together with the images were burnt on the pyre. Private people also made their offerings. It seems that a similar festival at Tithorea in Phocis was transferred to Isis.

A detailed report in English and a brief mention in Latin record the rediscovery in 1883 of the ‘charter’ of Orcistus by W. M. Ramsay and J. R. S. Sterrett. Not till 1886 was a complete copy secured, but in 1883 at Alikel, besides ascertaining where the original lay hidden, they found and copied, each in his own notebook, two other documents of which only the dating has been published. In his report Ramsay thus refers to them: ‘we occupied ourselves … partly in copying a long inscription of 98 lines in length, half of which was more or less legible.’ This inscription, comprising (A) a deed of gift, (B) a decree, both dated in 237, is here edited from the copies of 1883; no others are likely to exist, for the pedestal bearing the original text ‘had been destroyed in search of treasure after we left.’

Sir William Ramsay has kindly lent me those two notebooks; three pages from his and one from Sterrett's are reproduced below; for permission to use them, as well as for invaluable information and advice, I am indeed grateful.

The question as to the sources of metals in ancient Greece, as also in the whole of Europe, in the bronze age, has for some time exercised archaeologists. Apart from certain regions, little exploration has been carried out with regard to ancient mines, and there has especially been a tendency to take a long view in archaeology, and to connect across considerable distances regions where metal is known to have been worked in early times with regions where there is no information on the subject. But early mines are often hard to detect, as either the ore was completely exhausted, or the early workings have been obliterated by later peoples. There is, however, room for much careful investigation in this field, and metal being one of the most important objects of early commerce, the discovery of the sources used should throw a considerable light on this extremely complicated subject.

During a visit to Constantinople in July 1905 I spent some little time in studying the base of the obelisk of Theodosius in the Hippodrome (Fig. 1). An examination of the construction of the base and its sculpture led to the view that it was composed of material older than the reign of Theodosius. I subsequently read a paper on the subject at an open meeting of the British School at Rome. In the summer of 1906, Mr. Traquair, architectural student of the British School at Athens, made a detailed study of the construction of the base. His conclusions confirm the view which I had previously expressed. The present paper, which merely claims to put forward the reasons for assigning an earlier date to the base as briefly and clearly as possible, consists of two parts, Mr. Traquair's architectural report, and my own archaeological discussion of the questions raised. Both Mr. Traquair and myself owe much to the kind assistance of Dr. Van Millingen, for but for his aid this paper would never have been written.

In four of the last five numbers of the JHS, Doctors D. R. Dicks and D. O'Brien have disputed about Simplicius De caelo 471.1 ff. (DK 12A19), which runs (in part, 471.2–6): καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῑ [i.e. ἐκ τῶν περὶ ἀστρολογίαν] περὶ τῆς τάξεως τῶν πλανωμένων καὶ περὶ μεγεθῶν καὶ ἀποστημάτων ἀποδέδεικται Ἀναξιμάνδρου πρώτου τὸν περὶ μεγεθῶν καὶ ἀποστημάτων λόγον εὑρηκότος, ὡς Εὔδημος ἱστορεῖ τὴν τῆς θέσεως τάξιν εἰς τοὺς Πυθαγορείους πρώτους ἀναψέρων. In his History of Greek philosophy (i 93), Professor Guthrie translates the latter part of this as follows: ‘(…speaking of the planets) “Anaximander was the first to discuss their sizes and distances, according to Eudemus, who attributes the first determination of their order to the Pythagoreans.”’ Guthrie, Dicks and O'Brien all agree that πλανωμένων is accurately translated as ‘planets’; they also evidently agree that Anaximander would not have distinguished the planets from the fixed stars, at least in this matter; and consequently Guthrie (op. cit. i 95) finds Simplicius' statement about Anaximander ‘confusing’; Dicks finds it ‘nonsensical’; and O'Brien speaks of Simplicius' ‘rather ragged context’, and supposes that Eudemus was actually speaking, not of planets, but of sun, moon and stars, i.e. that Simplicius has quite misrepresented his source.

‘Thirdly we love-sick youths introduce also a cottabus to take its stand for you here in the gymnasium of Bromius, as a punch-ball. All you who are present entwine your fingers in the thongs of the cups (i.e. the cup-handles which serve as thongs); and (?) before fixing your eyes on it (the target), you should measure by pacing with your eyes the air high above the couch, and estimate the area over which the wine-drops are to extend.’

These lines are quoted by Athenaeus (668e) in his celebrated account of the Sicilian and Athenian after-dinner game of cottabus, a pastime which has long been a matter of academic controversy. In several points text and interpretation are not clear. In general, it is an elaborate jest in which a cottabus party is described in vocabulary appropriate to the gymnasium and its pursuits, the dining-room itself being called the γυμνάσιον Βρομίον.

Alkaios refers to Pittakos as one who has ‘acquired an Atreid wife’ in fragment 70 Voigt. This paper looks at the connotations of that statement in the text of the Lesbian poet, and its significance for the history of the Greek idea of ancestral fault.

From The Roman to the Turkish conquest of Greece, a period of sixteen centuries, Athens produced only three historians: Dexippos, Praxagoras and Laonikos Chalkokondyles. Of the two first only meagre fragments have come down to us; indeed, of the three treatises of Praxagoras, The Kings of Athens, composed when he was only nineteen, his History of Constantine the Great, written at the age of twenty-two, and his maturer study of Alexander, King of Macedon, only a summary of the second, amounting to two pages, has been preserved by that omnivorous reader, Photios, in his Library. Such juvenile histories cannot, however, have had much greater value than prize essays, conspicuous rather for their correctness of style than for any seasoned judgment. But we may regret that only thirty-five pages of the three works of Dexippos, The Events after the Death of Alexander, The Historical Epitome, which went as far as the time of Claudius II. in 268, and The Scythian Affairs, have survived. For Dexippos was an author of a very different type, a man of affairs as well as of letters, the type of historian of which we have familiar examples in England in Grote and Macaulay, in Clarendon and Bryce. A worse writer, but a better general, than his model, Thucydides, he defeated the Goths when they invaded Athens, on which occasion a Gothic leader urged the sparing of the Athenian libraries, in order that the Athenians might unfit themselves for the arts of war by much study of books! After these two historians, who flourished, Dexippos in the third, and Praxagoras in the fourth centuries, no Athenian took their place till, in the second half of the fifteenth, Laonikos Chalkokondyles composed the extant ten books of his history, one of the most interesting and valuable productions of the mediaeval Greek intellect.

In the present paper we continue the commentary begun in last year's Journal, and set forth the numismatic facts which ran parallel to those books of Pausanias which deal with the remainder of Peloponnesus; Laconia, Messenia, Elis, Achaia, and Arcadia. Athens, Phocis, and Boeotia still remain for future treatment.

In spite of our efforts to be complete, we have already discovered a number of coins of Corinth and Argos and the neighbouring cities which had escaped us, and which present new types, or important varieties of the types which appear in our plates. This will necessitate the publication of a supplement to our first paper. While this is in preparation numismatists will be doing the greatest service if they will let us have casts of any types in their possession which are omitted in the descriptions or the plates of this paper or the last. Casts of unusual coins of imperial times of Phocis or Boeotia will also be most welcome.

In writing on Plutarch as a literary artist there is a tendency to confuse Plutarch's personality, which appears from his writings as ingenuous and somewhat naïve, with his style, which has all the sophistication of the classical renaissance of which his writings form a part. Actually, extensive acquaintance with many aspects of literary craftsmanship is visible in his work. His careful avoidance of hiatus was noticed as long ago as 1841 by Benseler. More recently it has been discovered that Plutarch writes rhythmical prose, with a great preference for certain definite forms. He is thoroughly versed in the various schemata for the presentation of material. Boissonade termed his style a mosaic because it is so well adapted for dealing with the various themes occurring in the Lives; Plutarch has in fact perfect command over matter and form as a result of a thorough acquaintance with a rich literary tradition.

The metaphors and similes which appear in this Life seem on a first reading in ill accord with the sophistication of its general craftsmanship. They are stereotyped into the thought-content, and even the diction, traditional for the symbolism they express. Their infrequency and the elaboration of the metaphors in particular makes them stand out starkly. This conspicuousness and careful articulation is significant. The metaphors and similes are in fact strikingly put so that they emphasise the passages in which they occur, and recall one another vividly to mind. Analysis reveals that they are used in two ways: as points of reference and emphasis (they occur only at important junctures) and to indicate the unity of lengthy passages. Long and elaborate metaphors occur at 11.1, 35.1, and 46.4, marking respectively the Germanic war, the civil war, and Marius' fate and death. A metaphor and simile grouped together, at 23.1 and at 32.1, 3 respectively, tell of Catulus' reverse and the Social War; two similes commence the developments which are to lead to Marius' death at 45.1–2. Less striking metaphors anticipate the civil war (10.5) and the Marian massacre (43.4).