Pindar's Dithyramb 2opens with a reference to the historical development of the genre it exemplifies, the celebrated circular chorus of classical Greece. The first two lines were long known from various citations, notably in Athenaeus, whose sources included the fourth-century authors Heraclides of Pontus and Aristotle's pupil Clearchus of Soli. The third line appears, only partly legible, on a papyrus fragment published in 1919, which preserves some thirty lines of the dithyramb including most of the first antistrophe (thereby guaranteeing the metre for some reconstruction of the first strophe).

This short political pamphlet has survived to our day through the lucky chance of being included in the minor works of Xenophon, and for over 150 years it has been the subject of lively scholarly debate. The unknown author was a confirmed oligarch, but with an insider's insight into Athenian democracy. Though he cannot approve of this form of government, he is astute enough to see that the system works well on its own terms and that it is therefore popular; it will prove very hard to overthrow. The work has proved difficult to tie down to an historical context.

On any view, the Aristotelian account of Athens' constitutional history between victory over the Persian invaders and Ephialtes' reforms of the Areopagus and indeed beyond must be regarded as factually grudging and difficult to follow. Worse, current orthodoxy1 convicts it of a major chronological blunder for assigning a part in those reforms, which it places securely and beyond doubt correctly in the archonship of Konon (462/1), to Themistokles, who had been ostracized from the city perhaps as early as 473/2 and in any case by 467/62.

It has recently been argued by Gabriel Herman that fourth-century Athenian citizens, or at least the majority of them, believed that even under the impact of serious private aggression a man should not pursue revenge. The general ideal, so it is maintained, was to avoid not only violent revenge but also revenge through prosecution. Herman recognizes that other Athenian texts of the same period take the propriety of exacting revenge for granted, and he explains this in part by reference to a supposed ‘double standard’—a rather strange expression in this context, because it suggests that the propriety of revenge in classical Athens depended on the status of the victim of the revenge—which is not in fact the burden of Herman's doctrine.

The work transmitted to us as the fourth speech in the manuscripts of Andocides is an invective against Alcibiades on the occasion of the last ostracism to occur in Athens, the ostracism of Hyper bolus. Despite a challenging article by Raubitschek1 pointing to certain authentic-looking details in the speech, most scholars would probably now agree that [And.] 4 is neither by Andocides, nor a genuine speech delivered on the occasion of the last ostracism, but is most likely to be a product of the fourth century. But if this general feeling is correct, why and in what context was the speech written? When in the fourth century did rhetoricians spend their time composing works like [And.] 4?

Among the late fifth-century regulations governing the wine-trade in Thasos is a ban on κοτυλιζεῖν (‘selling wine in half-pint measures’, or more generally ‘breaking bulk’). It is normally characterized as a law of rather narrow relevance, something to do with maintaining the quality of Thasian wines and guarding against false measures. Here I want to examine the possibility that it is in fact a highly political measure on the part of a government hostile to the demos, an attempt to ban an institution identified with democracy–the public bar.

This essay has two aims: to affirm the significance of private banking in fourthcentury B.C. Athens, and to propose a model of its role in the economy. Such a project is desirable because there has been a tendency since the publication of Finley's The Ancient Economy to minimalize the significance of banking in ancient Greece. Banking is seen as a ‘fringe activity’ largely carried out by such ‘outsiders’ as metics and ex-slaves.Consequently historians have frequently overlooked the value of banking as a tool for understanding the Greek economy.

The history of scholarship, philosophical or otherwise, about Plato and his writings reveals a quandary pertaining to the interpretation of the contents of Plato's dialogues. To understand Plato one must come to terms with this problem: how ought Plato's writings to be interpreted?

Socrates' account of recollection in the Phaedo has been the subject of much study, but little attention has been paid to the questions whether and how far his arguments address Simmias' claim that he needs to recollect and be reminded that learning is recollection (73b6–10). I shall argue that Socrates reminds Simmias by appealing to Simmias' experience of question-and-answer discussion in order to show him how in these discussions they are regaining forgotten knowledge, but have not yet completed this process.

In his Rhetoric Aristotle gives six definitions of emotions in approximately the following form, with the word (Rhetoric ii.2.137830–1). Does he mean ‘Let anger be a reaching-out, accompanied by pain, for conspicuous revenge for some conspicuous slight to oneself or one's own, the slight not having been deserved’, or should ϕαινομένηςίην be taken to mean ‘manifest, plain’, or (a third possibility) should it be translated ‘perceived, apparent’? Since this is his fullest definition of anger, the question deserves discussion, even though a number of scholars, including such an expert on Aristotle's philosophy of the emotions as W. W. Fortenbaugh, have previously answered the question in what I think is the right way.

We know enough about Posidonius' life to trace his wanderings: he was born into a wealthy and influential family in Apamea, Syria; he went through all the steps of an Hellenistic education; in Athens he encountered his Stoic teacher Panaetius; and finally he settled—except for some travelling throughout the Mediterranean and to Rome—in the high society of Rhodes, where he actively participated in political life and headed a Stoic school.

In the publication of their second journal of archaeological travels in Cilicia, Bean and Mitford included the text of an unusual inscription from the site of ancient Syedra. The text has previously been discussed by Louis Robert, by the Hungarian historian of piracy Egon Maróti, and also by H. W. Parke. Although all four made suggestions about the date and interpretation of the inscription, no firm conclusions were reached.

To the extent that one subscribes to the proposition, by now a virtual principle of criticism (at least in some circles), that literary texts constitute sites for the negotiation, often vigorous, of power relations within a society, the reader of Catullus can hardly avoid some consideration of the poet's attitude toward contemporary political matters. It is a subject on which two principal lines of thought can be traced. Mommsen argued that Catullus responded to the enormities that followed the reinvigoration of the First Triumvirate at the conference of Luca in 56 by occupying a thoroughly optimate position. Wilamowitz, on the other hand, insisted that Catullus' lyrics reflect only moments of the author's individual experience, amongst which expressions of personal distaste for certain public figures naturally appear but nothing which can appropriately be taken as indications of a political stance. The approach of Wilamowitz has proved more influential, followed in spirit if not in specifics by numerous commentators. To the degree that Catullus has been assimilated to the Augustan elegists, whose poems have been deemed by a scholar of the stature of Veyne to be anti-political in nature, it has been all the easier to reject the idea that Catullus adopts a political position, an assessment strongly maintained in a recent study by Paul Allen Miller, for whom the rejection of all political engagement is the sine qua non of true lyric poetry. Mommsen's optimate Catullus has lately found his champion, however, in a careful article by H. P. Syndikus. Although Miller and Syndikus, like Wilamowitz and Mommsen, draw diametrically opposed conclusions concerning politics in Catullus' poetry, they are agreed nevertheless that politics can be regarded as a relatively straightforward term: it refers to statecraft, matters of government, and party strife. Other readers, however, have been more self-conscious in their theoretical concerns, a salutary consequence of which has been a shift by some to a less narrow conception of the field of reference appropriate to discussions of ‘the political’ in Latin literature.

After having been for some while the butt of conservative critics, verse transpositions in Propertius have, mainly thanks to the work of G. P. Goold, again become respectable among scholars. In his edition of Catullus, Tibullus, and Propertius J. J. Scaliger (first edition: Paris 1577,2Antwerp 1582, several times reprinted), the great archeget of the method, had subjected the other great elegist of Propertius’ generation to the same treatment,2 and in fact one of Scaliger's transpositions is supported by external evidence: 1.5.71–6 belong after 6.32; this is confirmed by Ovid's imitation in Trist. 2.447ff. Trist. 2. 459–60 (scit, cui latretur, cum solus obambulet, ipsel cui totiens clausas excreet ante fores) echo Tib. 1.6.31f. (ille ego sum, nee me iam dicere uera pudebit.l instabat tola cui tua node canis) and 5.73 (et simulat transire domum, mox deinde recurritl solus et ante ipsas exscreat usque fores). That Ovid should have brought together in one distich verses from two different Tibullian poems may not seem wholly impossible, but much less likely than that the lines in Tibullus were also consecutive, in particular because the distich immediately preceding 459f. clearly refers to the situation of Tib. 1.6.

The origins and nature of the judicial role of the senate in cases which under the republic were the business of the permanent quaestiones have been the subject of long debate, and a satisfactory explanation has yet to be found for the change that had undoubtedly taken place by the reign of Tiberius. The discovery and publication of the senatorial decree which concluded the investigation into the charge brought in A.D. 20 against Cn. Piso following the murder of Germanicus,2 in addition to the wealth of new material it provides for the political history of the period and the understanding of the methods of the historian Tacitus, allows an insight into the relation of the senate to the quaestio maiestatis which may prove useful in unravelling some of the puzzles which have troubled scholars hitherto.

H.-U. Wiemer opposes the image which Libanius gives of Constantine in his fifty-ninth oration (Panegyric of Constantius and Constans) to that which emerges from his later works, especially those of the Theodosian period when hostility is obvious, mirroring the opinion of pagan circles, who held this Emperor responsible for most of the calamities endured by the Empire in the fourth century. As the epideictic genre required, in 344/5 or in 348/9 the father had to be praised so that the sons could be praised too. However, Wiemer claims that ‘the panegyric of 344/5 already foreshadows the critical view’, by remaining silent about Christianity, the founding of Constantinople, and the tax policy on the one hand, and on the other hand by clearly declaring Constantine responsible for the war against Persia, which troubled the entire reign of Constantius. I wish to supplement these remarks with a few others and to suggest that the portrait of Constantine in Oration 59 presents us with a case of ‘disguised intention’—a rhetorical proceeding based on ὑποδήλωσις and παραψόγους: the orator tries to convey a message that is different from his apparent intentions, even opposite to them.

Galen's æuvre presents a remarkably varied body of texts–varied in subject matter, style, and didactic purpose. Logical tracts sit alongside tomes of drug–lore; handbooks of dietetics alongside anatomical investigations; treatises of physiology alongside ethical opuscula. These differences in type have received some, though as yet insufficient, scholarly attention. Mario Vegetti demonstrated the coexistence of two ‘profili’ or images of the art of medicine: Galen presents the art as an Aristotelian deductive science, on the one hand, and as a technician's craft, on the other. The former image, offering an ambitious elevation of the doctor's cultural status, has medicine as a philosophical episteme analogous to the mathematical sciences, exercised above all to provide causal accounts and logical demonstrations, and centred on the knowledge of anatomy. The second image is that of the clinician, concerned with the body in its pathological manifestations and using as its prime model the ‘pre-anatomical’ theory of the humours. And the content of the treatises shifts in relation to this dual image: ‘profilo alto’ and ‘profilo basso’ are reflected in different types of work. Polemical writings such as the Protrepticus, as well as the great treatises of anatomy and physiology, De usu partium and De naturalibus facultatibus, present medicine in the former light, while works like De temperamentis or Quod animi mores base themselves on humoral pathology and accord with the earlier, artisan-like image.

Within Emile Littreés classification of Hippocratic works, class ten consists of three lost works, two of which appear to have been treatises on the treatment of serious wounds and on the extraction of arrows. The sources for their titles—Erotian, Galen, an eleventh-century Arabic MS and the twelfth-century MS Vat.graec.276–disagree on minor points, but it is clear that they are all referring to the same works.

The cento of Proba has recently enjoyed a remarkable upsurge of scholarly interest. A welcome translation was provided in 1981, and an article of five years later, scrutinizing the evidence for its date and authorship, has aroused much controversy. In two recent contributions vindicating the traditional date new or more precise suggestions have been made about the poem's historical context. In between these, yet another article has argued, without confirming or refuting the revised dating and attribution, that in various ways the work reflects the interest of the aristocratic ladies of the Anician family. And now there is a second article by Danuta Shanzer, repeating many of her early points (not always with greater clarity) and adding some interesting new ones. All this sudden attention is not unmerited, for as Herzog observed long ago the work is not of the comic or trivializing kind that Ausonius envisaged in his comments on the genre and does not degrade Vergil but rather, at least in the often quoted words of its prefatory poem, ‘improves’ him.

Aeschylus' constant metrical practice shows that either Ag. 404/5 in the strophe, or 421/2 , correspondingly in the antistrophe, is corrupt in the manuscript tradition..