In the course of his dispute with Conington on the comparative merits of Catullus and Horace, Munro taxed the Augustans with having made the lyric of the heart impossible in Latin by their virtual exclusion of diminutives from the language of poetry; and, whether that is the result or no, the general fact that diminutives are rare in the serious poetry of the Augustan age is well known. The details, however, are less easy to come by. Stolz (Hist. Gr. d. lat. Spr., p. 574) and Stolz-Schmalz (hat. Gr., p. 834) devote a few unilluminating lines to the Stilistik of diminutives: otherwise the grammars and the treatises on diminutives known to me concern themselves only with forms and meanings. Except for a note by Professor Housman which, at 4. 927, sets out Manilius's diminutives, I know of no collections for any Augustan poet, and it is perhaps worth while therefore to state the facts. I have not indeed read through Augustan poetry for the purpose, but for some time past I have been in the habit of noting such diminutives as I have come across in the course of reading, and these lists I have now checked and amplified from the indexes to the authors concerned. My lists are probably not complete, but I hope they are sufficiently near it to present a true picture of the position.

What happened in the aftermath of Caligula's assassination in January A.d. 41 in relation to the client kings of the period has been the subject of a stimulating note by A. A. Barrett. He has argued that a rescission of Caligula's acta invalidated the legal position of the client kings appointed by Caligula, and that Claudius’ regularising of their position has been misunderstood by the ancient literary sources and has given rise to several apparent inconsistencies in their accounts.

The Thebaid is not easy reading, and copyists (and at times, I fear, editors) have not helped to make it easier. There are many pitfalls in the language of Statius, and words cannot be taken always at their face value. I have erred myself and suffered. It may be of interest to give a few instances.

Ennius began his Annals with a prayer to the Muses:

(I.V.) Musae quae pedibus magnum pulsatis Olympum.

In this he differs from his predecessors. Livius in his Odusia had substituted Camena for Homer's Μοῦσα, and the ‘novem Iovis concordes sorores’ to whom Naevius addresses himself in the Carmen Belli Punici also bore the name of Camenae, as we may infer with some confidence from Naevius' epitaph: ‘Immortales mortales si foret fas flere Flerent divae Camenae Naevium poetam.’ The mysterious Carmen Priami likewise speaks of the Camenae: ‘Veteres Casmenas cascam rem volo profari.’ For general reasons it seems unlikely that before Ennius' time the Romans were altogether unfamiliar with the name of Musae. Evidence, however, to show that they knew it is not available. Nevertheless, even if the name Musae was known, in invoking their patronage for his poem Ennius is making a departure from the habits of earlier poetry, of which he is both conscious and proud. In the beginning of the seventh book he speaks with scorn of his predecessor Naevius: ‘scripsere alii rem Versibus quos olim Fauni vatesque canebant Cum neque Musarum scopulos…’ Now the reign of the Muses begins, and the grave virus of the Saturnian line is driven out by the munditiae of the hexameter.

The mystical part of Reitzenstein′s interpretation of the song in Theocritus′s first idyll has not been generally accepted;it is somewhat surprising to find a new interpretation of the legend of Daphnis, and a new explanation of the genesis of pastoral poetry, introduced by the statement, referring to Reitzenstein: ‘ Nicht zu kiihn war er, sondern noch nicht kiihn genug.’ Starting from Reitzenstein′s contention that the pastoral was developed from a cult-song, Fries elaborates the theory that Daphnis is a Greek Krishna; that the maiden of Theocritus′s first idyll is the counterpart of the heroine of the Song of Songs; that astral mythology, Oriental in origin, supplies the clue to Theocritus′s handling of the legend. On the basis of this and other material Fries constructs further theories affecting the development of other literary types than the pastoral, and leads us ultimately to a novel interpretation of the Phaeacian episode in the Odyssey.

While Alexander is at Memphis an army arrives from Antipater including (Arr. 3.5. 1). It is a little surprising that Droysen's suggestion to read MevlSas for tevolras should have been accepted so readily by editors. We do at least hear fa Menoetas later (Diodorus 19. 47) as Berve remarks. He further points out lat Menidas does not elsewhere, so far as we know, command infantry.

Details of poetical expression have received only incidental mention in my earlier articles on Valerius Flaccus. The purpose now is to fill this gap by outlining what has struck me most forcibly about Valerius' use of language and metre. This is offered not as a final assessment, were such a thing ever possible, but rather as a supplement or epilogue to what has already been published, with the emphasis on aspects unnoticed or not elaborated by others.

No ancient authority has left us a clear account of how the judges at the Athenian dramatic festivals operated. We can therefore never know for certain what happened. But it may be possible to improve the reconstruction normally given, which does not look as if it could ever have yielded acceptable results.

One thing that is very clear (from Isocrates 17.33–4) is that the choice of judges was taken seriously. Not only did it involve the Council, the Prytanies, and the Treasurers, but any tampering with the panel from which the judges were eventually selected seems to have been punishable with death. Even the physical arrangements were quite complicated. Names approved by the Council were deposited in ten jars, one jar for each tribe but each jar containing several names, sealed by the Prytanies, held in safe-keeping on the Acropolis, and eventually brought down to the theatre, where the archon publicly broke the seals and drew out one name from each jar.

At this stage of the process there emerged ten judges, one from each tribe. Their quality had been guaranteed by the Council's prior vetting of the panel, but their actual names were unpredictable because randomly selected from it. All had been done democratically and with equal representation of tribes, in perfect accord with normal Athenian practice.

But now comes the difficulty. The paroemiographers record a proverb (or rather perhaps a joke since it seems to be a kind of parody of a Homeric verse) about judgement being in the lap of five judges — ⋯ν π⋯ντε κριτ⋯ν γούνασι κεῖται; Lysias tells us of a judge whose vote was not counted; and Lucian, who likes to disguise a very careful antiquarianism behind an apparent casualness of style, says that at festival competitions the many know how to clap and hiss but that judgement is in the hands of seven or five or however many.

A well-known epigram by Callimachus on the philosopher Diodorus Cronus (fr. 393 Pfeiffer) reads as follows:

The question of the third line, while perhaps recondite from a contemporary perspective, was clear in antiquity. The crows are asking ‘What follows (from what)?’, in allusion to the Hellenistic disputes concerning the truth conditions of conditional propositions (συνημμ⋯να), disputes in which the views of Diodorus figured prominently.

I agree with Sedley that the question of the last line is ‘much more problematic’. The common interpretation has been to read the αὖθι as a form of αὖθις and to interpret it temporally. The result, in Pfeiffer's estimation, is ‘quomodo posthac erimus?’.

This interpretation derives from Sextus Empiricus' discussion at M. 1.309–12 of the last two lines of the epigram. After crediting the grammarian with the ability to understand the allusion in the crows' first question (M. 1.310: κα⋯ μ⋯χρι τούτου συνήσει τ⋯ κα⋯ παιδίοις γνώριμον), he proceeds to argue that the philosopher has a better chance than the grammarian of understanding the second question. But, to quote Sedley, Sextus ‘makes a ghastly mess of it’ when he attempts his own elucidation. According to an argument of Diodorus, a living thing does not die in the time in which it lives nor in a time in which it does not live. Hence, Sextus concludes, it must be the case that it never dies and, ‘if this is the case, we are always living and, according to him, we shall come to be hereafter (αὖθις γενησόμεθα)’ (M. 1.312).

Homeric studies today are flourishing, but admirers of Homer as poetry are a rather baffled lot. Homerists may devote themselves to Linear B, Mycenaean warfare and weaponry, formulary modifications, linguistic features, Yugoslav parallels, and other such topics; but anyone who prefers to concentrate on Homer himself and offers an interpretation of some part of the Iliad or Odyssey is liable to meet with the rejoinder that literary standards must not be applied to an oral poet.

Amynander of Athamania first appears in our sources in 209 B.C. and last appears in 189 B.C. In whatö follows I shall discuss two episodes from within this period.

Catalexis was the subject of an important recent article by L. P. E. Parker. There is one particular aspect of it that she does not touch, and that ought not to be left out of account: its presumable Indo-European origins. Consideration of this aspect leads to the drawing of distinctions which otherwise tend to escape notice.

In Book 12 of Quintus Smyrnaeus’ Posthomerica (c. third century c.e.), the epic poet prepares to list the heroes who entered the Wooden Horse before the sack of Troy. Before he begins, he breaks off to ask for help (Quint. Smyrn. 12.306–13):

τούς μοι νῦν καθ᾽ ἕκαστον ἀνειρομένῳ σάφα Μοῦσαι
ἔσπεθ᾽, ὅσοι κατέβησαν ἔσω πολυχανδέος ἵππου·
ὑμεῖς γὰρ πᾶσάν μοι ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θήκατ᾽ ἀοιδήν,
πρίν μοι <ἔτ᾽> ἀμφὶ παρειὰ κατασκίδνασθαι ἴουλον,
Σμύρνης ἐν δαπέδοισι περικλυτὰ μῆλα νέμοντι    310
τρὶς τόσον Ἑρμοῦ ἄπωθεν, ὅσον βοόωντος ἀκοῦσαι,
Ἀρτέμιδος περὶ νηὸν Ἐλευθερίῳ ἐνὶ κήπῳ,
οὔρεΐ τ’ οὔτε λίην χθαμαλῷ οὔθ᾽ ὑψόθι πολλῷ.

Caesar's Commentarii have hardly been studied within the historiographical tradition – probably because of their generic difference from historia and, more generally, alleged overall sparseness, famously and influentially compared to nudity. While their relationship to Greek historians has received some haphazard attention, their possible debt to antecedent Roman historians is an even less explored question – admittedly compounded by the fragmentary state of early republican historiography. In the following pages, however, I will suggest that there is ample evidence of Caesar's familiarity with, and even imitation of, the Historiae by Lucius Cornelius Sisenna.

Hoc tempore velut per universum orbem Romanum, bellicum canentibus bucinis, excitae gentes saevissimae, limites sibi proximos persultabant. Gallias Raetiasque simul Alamanni poputabantur; Sarmatae Pannonias et Quadi; Picti Saxonesque et Scotci, et Attacotti Brittanos aerumnis vexavere continuis; Austoriani Mauricaeque aliae gentes, Africam solito acrius incursabant; Thracias et diripiebant praedatorii globi Gothorum. Persarum rex manus Armeniis iniectabat, eos in suam dicionem ex integro vocare vi nimia properans, sed iniuste, causando, quod post Ioviani excessum, cum quo foedera firmarat et pacem, nihil obstare debebit, quo minus ea recuperaret, quae antea ad maiores suos pertinuisse monstrabat.