Two poets addressed by Propertius in his first book are in fact pseudonyms. Ponticus was formed on the model of Horace's Alpinus to designate someone who embodies the antithesis of the poet's Callimachean sensibilities. Bassus is none other than Horace himself, who was then in the course of writing iambics. In the eleventh epode, Horace responded in kind by creating the pseudonyms Pettius, Lyciscus and Inachia, all of which derive from aspects of Propertius' first book. This exchange between Horace and Propertius has echoes in their later work. We conclude by examining why Ovid seems to treat Ponticus and Bassus as real poets in the Tristia.

Of the five great lead-producing districts of Roman Britain, the limestone uplands of the Mendips in Somerset have yielded evidence of Roman mining activities which, however incomplete, is still the richest and fullest from a material and chronological point of view so far discovered in this country. To the Mendip mines we owe not only the earliest and latest dated specimens in the British series of inscribed pigs of Roman lead, but also the heaviest. Since the appearance at the beginning of this century of the classic article by Gowland, the full number of the Mendip pigs has been listed by various authorities, but a recent examination of two of them shows that the existing accounts need supplementing and correcting in certain important details. Furthermore, a re-examination of the remains of Roman mining in another district, in the light of the evidence thus revealed, shows that some interesting features have hitherto escaped notice.

The struggle which the Byzantine government had to wage in the tenth century to protect small freeholders against the landed aristocracy represents a most interesting and important phase in the internal development of the Byzantine State. It can be said without exaggeration that the issue of the struggle determined the very fate of the Empire. The history of this stubborn, dramatic conflict has been outlined more than once. My intention is not to narrate it again, but to illustrate by a few concrete examples the causes which prevented the Byzantine government from effectively safeguarding the smallholder.

The system of land tenure by free peasant proprietors and stratiotai—soldiers settled in the themes—formed the mainstay of the Byzantine Empire from the time of its recovery in the seventh century, as well as its principal source of both internal strength and external power. Naturally, the imperial government intervened in favour of the smallholder when it became clear that peasant and stratiote property was being rapidly absorbed by big landholders, with their former owners becoming serfs on the estates of lay landowners and monasteries. In protecting the smallholder against the encroachments of the feudal landed aristocracy, the State endeavoured to safeguard its soldiers and its best taxpayers, as well as its actual existence; for the development of the centrifugal forces of feudalism constituted a menace to the centralized and autocratic power of the Byzantine emperors.

Seneca's Naturales Quaestiones explains the causes and functional mechanisms of natural phenomena, from common sights like rainbows to exotically out-of-reach ones like comets. The vividness with which he brings them all within the reader's grasp is certainly a literary feat as much as a scientific one, but the rhetorical power of his explanations does not cost them their epistemological validity. Analyses drawn from current philosophy of science reveal elements of fictionality omnipresent in scientific models and experiments, suggesting an approach to Seneca's ‘scientific fictions’ not as failed analogies but as a sophisticated expansion of the tradition of analogical scientific explanation.

At first glance, L. Licinius Sura and Q. Sosius Senecio have many points of resemblance. Both were men of erudition and culture, like their mutual friend the younger Pliny. Both stood close to Trajan and participated in the two Dacian wars. Both received the rare honour of a public statue from the emperor. Together they gave their names to the year 107, sharing the fasces as consules ordinarii.

So many are the similarities, in fact, that the two are difficult to think of as separate and defined characters. There is another and graver reason for juxtaposing their careers. Sura's is often assumed to be largely known from an acephalous inscription found in Rome in the sixteenth century: that view goes back to Lipsius, but was first forcefully argued by Borghesi. In recent years doubts have been voiced, in the first place by Professor Syme: not Sura, but possibly Sosius Senecio. It is time to argue that the ignotus is indeed Sosius, and to draw the consequences for the early years of Trajan's reign.

H. Peter briefly stated the reasonable opinion that Trajan did not draft the rescripts himself or manage the details of law and administration which they involve, that being the work of the secretary Ab epistulis. This widely accepted view was established on a firmer basis by the investigations of A. Henneman into the ‘outer and inner style’ of the rescripts. His general conclusion was that Trajan settled the more important problems himself from material prepared by his secretariat, by giving a verbal decision which the secretary worked up into the drafts which we have. These were written in a uniform chancery style, but personal interventions and comments of Trajan are recognizable within the formal texts. Henneman used two main arguments to establish the secretarial manner.

In the account which I gave in this Journal of the excavations carried out in 1925 at and near the east corner of the legionary fortress, I explained that the earliest defence there had consisted of a double ditch and a clay rampart, which appeared to have been laid out in the time of Petillius Cerialis (c. A.D. 71–74); that a stone wall subsequently built along the outer margin of this clay rampart probably dated from the reign of Trajan (about 108–9); that at some time this wall was destroyed, and that a second wall, built immediately inside the line of the wall which it replaced, belonged to the period of Commodus or Septimius Severus. Those conclusions were drawn from the evidence of trenches cut on either side of the corner. Of the corner itself enough was uncovered to prove that the tower here, as was to be expected from the date of the adjacent work, was of the internal type usual in the first three centuries. The complete excavation of the corner was the main task of 1926.

This article tackles a relatively under-studied aspect of the Christianisation of the Roman aristocracy. It considers the influence of Christian norms on a key stage in the elite male life course: service to the state. Drawing on the letters of Isidore of Pelusium, Augustine of Hippo and Theodoret of Cyrrhus to imperial officials, this article argues that a Christian rhetoric of office-holding had developed across the Mediterranean by the first half of the fifth century. It traces these authors’ varying expectations of how the religious identities of elite Christian men would shape their political agency. Their letters demonstrate the diffusion of Christian political ideas within the imperial state — and the terms on which Christian affiliations and traditional public careers were understood to be compatible — under the Theodosian dynasty.