In his discussion of the ethics of suicide (Phaedo 61 c ff.) Plato alludes to more than one traditional injunction against it:indicates a fairly general acceptance of its wickedness. Cebes has heard the Pythagorean Philolaus, among others, saying that suicide was immoral, but has gathered no satisfactory explanation as to why this should be so. One reason, impressive, but, Socrates admits, difficult is to be found

In an earlier paper Christopher Tuplin and I attempted to establish the date and circumstances of the emergence of the concept of ‘the Greeks of Asia’ and the consequent appearance of ‘the freedom of the Greeks of Asia’ as a political slogan. It was there suggested that concept and slogan first crystallized shortly before the Peace of Antalcidas, and that the freedom of the Greeks of Asia first acquired its full force as a catchword when that freedom had been signed away, apparently for ever. The present paper traces the further history of the slogan, first under Alexander and the Diadochi, then at the time of the Roman conquest of the eastern Mediterranean. No attempt is, however, made to deal with every unanswered question raised by either Macedonian or Roman dealings with Greece.

The Greeks of Asia languished under Persia till the time of the Macedonian invasion. Yet when that invasion came, the freedom of the Greeks of Asia was to play little part in Macedonian propaganda, still less in Macedonian practice. The expedition was conceived by Philip as an act of revenge for the Persian invasions of Greece. This theme of revenge was taken up by Alexander at the time of his appointment to command, and recurs in his letter to Darius and his words to Parmenio after the taking of Persepolis. The even broader theme of a crusade of Greeks against Persians to achieve the conquest of Asia is still more frequent. It dictates the sedulous manufacture of parallels with the Trojan war and the inscription on the spoils sent to Athens after the battle of the Granicus; it was also used to justify Alexander's hatred of Greeks who fought on the Persian side.

By comparison with these motifs the freedom of the Greeks of Asia receives little attention. When Philip sent out his advance expedition under Parmenio and Attalus, his instructions to them were to free the Greek cities. But just how flexibly that order could be interpreted is shown by Parmenio's treatment of Grynium. Alexander too showed himself ruthlessly pragmatic in his attitude to Greek cities, until the appointment of Alcimachus to liberate the Aeolian and Ionian cities. Yet this development receives little attention in the sources, and the only trace of it in subsequent propaganda is the claim ascribed to Alexander when he was on his way from Miletus to Caria that he had undertaken the war for the sake of the freedom of the Greeks, the only occasion in the surviving evidence on which Alexander makes this assertion.

In Juvenal's third satire the main speaker, Umbricius, delivers a speech of farewell (a syntacticon) as he prepares to leave Rome. In it, he mounts a sustained attack on life in the capital. By contrast, he praises Italian country towns, a combination of laudatio and vituperatio which is foreshadowed in the prefatory praise of provincial Cumae (2–5) and denigration of Rome (5–9).

In their introduction to the recent excellent volume Plato & Hesiod, the editors G.R. Boys-Stones and J.H. Haubold observe that when we think about the problematic relationship between Plato and the poets, we tend to narrow this down to that between Plato and Homer. Hesiod is practically ignored. Unjustly so, the editors argue. Hesiod provides a good opportunity to start thinking more broadly about Plato's interaction with poets and poetry, not in the least because the ‘second poet’ of Greece represents a different type of poetry from Homer's heroic epics, that of didactic poetry. What goes for Plato and Hesiod goes for Proclus and Hesiod. Proclus (a.d. 410/12–85), the productive head of the Neoplatonic school in Athens, took a great interest in poetry to which he was far more positively disposed than Plato had ever been. He wrote, for example, two lengthy treatises in reaction to Socrates' devastating criticism of poetry in the Republic as part of his commentary on that work in which he tries to keep the poets within the Platonic pale. This intriguing aspect of Proclus' thought has, as one might expect, not failed to attract scholarly attention. In Proclus' case too, however, discussions tend to concentrate on his attitude towards Homer (one need only think here of Robert Lamberton's stimulating book Homer the Theologian). To some extent this is only to be expected, since much of the discussion in the Commentary on the Republic centres on passages from Homer. Proclus did not, however, disregard Hesiod: we still possess his scholia on the Works and Days, now available in a recent edition by Patrizia Marzillo.

Aetiological poetry tends to be mature poetry in both a literary and a political sense. Interest in antiquarian lore belongs in general to a poet's middle and later years when youthful and audacious quests for what is avant-garde and anti-establishment have yielded to conservatism and a desire to preserve the past. Propertius and Ovid both turned to aetiological poetry after a long apprenticeship in amatory ‘nugae’ which enabled them, like their predecessor, Callimachus, to embellish their work with a diversity of artistic devices founded on considerable poetic skill and literary experience. With this, a vital ploy to engage the sympathy of a sophisticated audience, went the poise and urbanity with which the aetiological poet found humour in the pose of earnest researcher, in the naivety of primitive cult and in clever literary adaptations. Moreover, dedication to a form of writing essentially nationalist and conservative encouraged a tone of patriotic pride and allusions, even compliments, to the ruling powers. In the light of such considerations we may examine Ovid's account of the ‘Ludi Megalenses’.

The ‘Megalensia’ furnished Ovid with a goddess who had enjoyed fame and even notoriety in the pages of Roman literature. In addition to showing a poetic and neoteric interest in the orgiastic elements of her cult and the alien music of her retinue Roman poetry could reflect too the awe and reverence inspired of old by the Great Mother and expressed in the Greek poets, whom Lucretius claimed as his sources in his powerfully beautiful excursus on Cybele worship. Again, Cybele's importance in Rome had been augmented by her Trojan origins, concerning which a canonical Augustan theology had been established by Vergil in the Aeneid.

Not being an historian but a philosopher, largely concerned with political theory, Plato was not primarily interested in historical inquiry for its own sake. His references to history or prehistory, when they occur, are introduced for the purpose of illustrating some particular point of doctrine, generally ethical or political.

Whilst Theophrastus (Char. 17.8) implies that the logographos had a great deal of control over the oral version of a forensic speech and what went into it,2 the part played by the logographos and the client in the content and circulation of the oration after oral delivery is controversial, and has attracted a fair share of attention.3 Sir Kenneth Dover argued that joint or composite authorship of the speech (i.e. client and logographos together) could take place, and that it was the client who could publish the speech after the trial and was free to include his own remarks.4 Thus, as Dover would have it, in the case of Lysias (and of other orators too if joint composition occurred), no unique style of that orator could be discerned in his speeches as we have them today. This composite authorship was first questioned by T. N. Winter,5 and denied even more vigorously by S. Usher,6 who argued that responsibility for a speech's later circulation lay only with the logographos, who also revised the speech as he saw fit.7 Their arguments, which nicely complement each other, are convincing enough on the evidence we have (although a case will be made below that in certain circumstances some, but probably not many, speeches appear to be the work of joint authorship). However, two other factors may be brought in as further support: the stylistic nature of the revised speech and the extent of literacy. The argument of this paper is that the composition of the final circulated speech was beyond the ability of the ordinary client and could only have been produced by the logographos.

Of the ten ships of the barbarians three the reef that is between Sciathus and Magnesia and is called the Ant. When the barbarians had brought to the reef and set up there a pillar of stone, they themselves set out from Therma, as the way ahead had now been made clear for them, and sailed on with all their ships, having let eleven days pass since the king's departure from Therma. The reef, which was right in their course, had been pointed out to them by Pammon, a Scyrian.

As was first pointed out by Gercke, there are close parallels, which clearly suggest a common source, between Apuleius, de Platone 1.12, the treatise On Fate falsely attributed to Plutarch, Calcidius' excursus on fate in his commentary on Plato's Timaeus, and certain sections of the treatise de Natura hominis by Nemesius. Gercke traced the doctrines common to these works to the school of Gaius; recently however Dillon has pointed out that, while Albinus shares with these works the characteristic Middle-Platonic notion of fate as conditional or hypothetical – our actions are free, but once we have acted the consequences of our actions are fated and inevitable – he does not share certain other common features, such as the identification of fate as substance with the world-soul and the hierarchy of three providences.

Achilleus′ speeches and action in Iliad 24 ‘complete a development of character-or better, enlargement of experience and comprehension-which stretches through the whole poem’. I largely agree with this statement, but since I also believe that an ‘enlargement of experience and comprehension’ necessarily entails ‘ a development of character’, I do not hesitate, as its author does, to assert that Achilleus′ character develops, i.e., changes for the better, in the course of the Iliad. It is my purpose here to discuss one of the ways in which his speeches in Book 24 are specifically designed to bring this out. I will also argue that it is precisely because his character changes for the better that the poem fits the Aristotelian concept of epic. Lastly, I will attempt to refute Redfield's arguments in support of his opinion that Achilleus does not change in the course of the story.

That Catullus’ sixty-fourth poem influenced Virgil's work has long been accepted. We approach a little nearer a resolution of the enigma of the Fourth Eclogue when we recognize epithalamian elements within it that echo not only the song of the Parcae, but also the themes of the Golden Age, of the Voyage of the Argo, and of the relations between gods and men from Catullus’ poem. Similarly, Ariadne's part in the creation of Aeneid 4, both in the ‘marriage’ scene and in Dido's reproaches to Aeneas, has been noted.

Lactantius' treatise the de opificio dei has received little attention from classical scholars in modern times. There are two main reasons for this. First, Lactantius is regarded essentially as a Christian apologist and therefore of interest primarily to theologians and students of Christian history. Second, that work which has been done on the treatise has tended to the view that the opif.'s interest for scholars lies largely in the question of its written sources, its main such source, according to several commentators, being the Hermetic body of writings. Both of these reasons need re-examining. With regard to the first, it is unfortunate that the only surviving works of Lactantius are his specifically Christian treatises, written after the outbreak of persecution in A.D. 303. As such they represent only a portion of his work, being composed in the last two decades of a long life. The basis of his reputation as a rhetorician, a reputation which secured him his appointment as professor of Latin rhetoric at Nicomedia under Diocletian, must have been his earlier works, which pre-date his conversion in c. 300.

Intense scrutiny can raise chimaeras, and Virgil is the most scrutinized of Roman poets, but he may have engineered coincidences in line number (‘stichometric allusions’) between certain of his verses and their Greek models. A handful of potential examples have now accumulated. Scholars have detected Virgilian citations of Homer, Callimachus and Aratus in this manner, as well as intratextual allusions by both Virgil and Ovid, and references to Virgil's works by later Roman poets using the same technique. (For present purposes I disregard the separate, though related, phenomenon of corresponding numbers of lines in parallel passages: G. Knauer, Die Aeneis und Homer (Göttingen, 1964) suggests several examples of such correspondences between Homer and Virgil, especially in speeches. Another purely formal mode of allusion faintly present in Roman poetry is homophonic translation (the technique which Louis Zukofsky's 1969 translations of Catullus pursue in extenso); thus Virgil's fagus, beech, corresponds with Theocritus' phagos, oak.) If genuine, the phenomenon lacks any consistent method or regular pattern (and the degree of plausibility varies); if genuine, it is very rare, even if accidents in textual transmission could have obscured some examples; if genuine, it probably originated in the Hellenistic period, although such a case has yet to be made. Virgil presently seems the earliest and most copious practitioner of stichometric allusion. A previously undetected example in the Aeneid is proposed below.