This ancient tale has naturally been recognized by modern scholars for what it is—a story of the Great Mother and her paramour; but several features appear to me to have been given less examination than they deserve, in view of their own peculiarity and the obvious antiquity of the myth. That it is pre-Greek is fairly clear from the names of the principal actors. Anchises yields no tolerable meaning in Greek, and we do not know to what speech it belongs—possibly (...) Phrygian. Aphrodite is, of course, no Greek goddess at all. The tale was known to Greek saga-men about the tenth century B.C., and is fully told for the first time, so far as our surviving records go, in a document possibly of the seventh century—the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite. Connected as it is, though loosely, with the Troy-saga, it may quite possibly go back to Minoan-Mycenaean times, as that does. The features which I think worthy of further investigation are the fate of Anchises after his enjoyment of the goddess' favours, and in particular the effect upon him of the thunderbolt with which he was smitten. (shrink)

This paper sets out to answer four apparently unconnected questions, which, however, I hope to show to be parts of one question: Why did Haimon kill himself over the body of Antigone? Why did Philinnion return for three nights to her father's house? Why is it unlawful to leave a story unfinished? Why is a magician sometimes torn in pieces by his own devils, or otherwise destroyed by his own magic?

No one has as yet done for Italy what Rohde's Psyche did for Greece, and the reason is not far to seek. Rohde had at his disposal a large amount of literary material, of which no one could doubt that it represented Greek feeling and practice of various ages; but the investigator of the corresponding Italian field is met with a twofold difficulty. He must in the first place discard a great deal of the written records, because they clearly reflect, (...) not native ideas, but those which were common to the ancient world in Hellenistic times. He is then left with a very few scanty documents, which refer, not to Italy as a whole, but practically without exception to Rome, or, at any rate, to districts strongly Romanized. To add to his perplexities, he has a great mass of archaeological evidence for all ages, from the palaeolithic onwards, which, as it is unwritten, he must interpret as best he may, bearing in mind the very wide margin of error in all such attempts, and reconcile, if he can, with what the classical authors tell him. (shrink)

This pretty little work of the obscure Tymnes has recently been examined by A. Wilhelm in the course of a learned attempt to explain the puzzling phrase πολλ πολλν . With the result of his research in general I am not now concerned and the interpretation of this epigram does not greatly affect the value of his conclusions; but it seems worth while to point out what I believe to be the right explanation of a curious and much-emended phrase in (...) the second couplet. (shrink)

Professor D'Arcy W. Thompson has recently revived a conjecture of Lauth on Geoponica, XIII, 8, 1, which runs as follows: εις οκ σονται ν χωρ ν νθιονἢ ρτεμσιον ἢ βρτονον περ τν πα$$υλιν υτεσς. τος δ ντας λσεις ν . The conjecture is that ντας is the Egyptian hontasu, ‘lizard.’ That this would make sense is obvious; but the usage of the Geop. itself, to say nothing of other authors, indicates that the word is simply what it appears to be, (...) namely the pres. part, of εμ. Thus we find in X, 46 τ ςκα σκληκας ¿ π¿ισειν μλλων φυτεειν μπξς σκλλ τν κλδ¿ν, τ¿ς δ ντας ναιρες ν κ.τ.λ. Here the explanation ‘lizards’ would hardly be reasonable; still more cogent, however, is XII, 8, 2–3, ¿κ σονται … τς δ οσας κμπας διαθερς, where no such conjecture is possible. Not dissimilar is XII, 19, 9, τς τε γρ οσας ψλλας θερεικα λλας οκ γενσθαι. All these extracts are taken from authors of the second and third centuries A.D., though we have no means of knowing how closely their actual wording is followed; it is therefore in point to cite a passage of Galen, the opening paragraph of the tractate περ αρσεων Medicine, he says, has for its aim health, and a physician must know how to bring about health if absent and preserve it if present . καλεται δ, he continues, τ μν ργαζμενα τν μ οσαν γειατν τε καβοηθματα, τ δ φυλττοντα τν οσαν γιειν διαιτματα. In other words, ὢν can be used in much the same sense as παρν. This is no novelty of Roman times, for we may compare, for instance, Soph. Ant. 1109, ο ' ντες ο τ'πντες, and El, 305 τς οσας … κα τς ποσας λπδας. (shrink)

‘Lapidem silicem tenebant iuraturi per Iouem, haec uerba dicentes: Si sciens fallo, tum me Dispiter salua urbe arceque bonis eiciat ut ego hunc lapidem.’ I do not propose to add to the mass of commentary and controversy which loads this passage of Paulus Diaconus , except to remind readers that it is a comparatively modern version of a very old formula. Under Dispiter lurks some early shape of the name of Iuppiter, certainly not of the Greek importation Dis, first worshipped (...) in Rome, apparently, in 505/249. I believe it to be older than the end of the regal period, probably much older, for it names the Arx as the important spot in Rome, not the Etruscanizing Capitol. However, this detail and my opinions concerning the oath and its takers matter little for my present purpose. It is enough if it be granted, as I think everyone will grant, that it is ‘eine alte Fetialformel’ as Fraenkel has it, at all events eine alte Formel, more ancient than the surviving literature. (shrink)

The purpose of this paper is to indicate the slightness of the foundation on which a commonly received doctrine about Roman funerals rests, and to discuss a point in connexion with the ritual of funera acerba.

γχΣεμλη ӣτως καλετо, says the lexicographer, from a source which is unknown, but would appear to be late, since it uses a past tense. Where or by whom Semele was so named is not stated, nor has any explanation been given, so far as I know, that is at all satisfactory, for she certainly has nothing to do with swords. I suggest that she was never called anything of the kind, and the statement arises from a comedian's jest. Aristophanes speaks (...) of Διννσоς Σιαμνоν, and the scholiast is careful to inform the humourless who read this play that it is a joke, παρ' πνоιαν, instead of νς Δις. So no lexicographer ever tells us that Stamnios is a title of Zeus. I suggest that somewhere, by Aristophanes or another, Dionysos was called νς γχоς, ‘son of Pour-Out,’ a comic formation from γχεν. If such a passage came into the late classical or the mediaeval world unguarded by a scholiast, it would be taken with the same seriousness which has attended sundry witticisms directed at Kleon and other butts of Comedy. The reasoning would be most syllogistic and accurate, as thus: Encho is the mother of Dionysos. But Semele is the mother of Dionysos. Therefore Encho is Semele, Q.E.D. (shrink)