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Tiu@vaέ IG. 12. 8. 282. 19 (Thasos), IG. 12.5.712.53 (Syme), IG. 12. 3. 396, etc. (Thera, 7 times), SGDI. 3624a, b, c, etc. (Cos, 8 times), SGDI. IV. p. 661 (Rhod.), SGDI. 5151 (of Cyprian and Cretan parentage), IG. 2. 8146 52, 1035 (Athen. ?), IG. 14. 421. I. 228 (Tauromen.), Hdt. 7. 98 (Cypr.), Schol. Ap. Rhod. 4. 1207.

Tuúvaσoa IG. 12. 3. 804 (Thera). 'Epμova SGDI. 5495. 3 (Milet.),

Delphin. in Milet. 122. I. 43, 133. 3, SGDI. 5515. 14 (Iasus), 5692a 13 (Erythrae), coins of Ephesus, Abdera, IG. 2. 963. 70 (Mytil.), IG. 12. 2.81.5 (Mytil.), SGDI. 2566. 61 (Arg.), IG. 7. 7 (Troizenian), Kirchner Att. Prosop. 5174-78, others in late writers (Pape).

Ερμώνασσα Anth. Pal. 5. 281, Fr. hist. gr. 3. 597 (Mytil.); n. geogr. Strab. 495, 548, Epμúvooσa, district in Chios, SGDI. 5653. 'ITT@va the poet (Ephes.), SGDI.

54936 (Chian.), 5523. 19 (Cyzic.). Aаμжúvaσσа IG. 12. 3. 43 (Telos). Αβρωναξ IG. 12. 7. 271. 8, 277. 101 (Thasos).

'Avopova IG. 12. 5. 220 (Paros). Mavopova Gr. Coins Brit. Mus. Ionia 19. No. 19 (Clazom.). Cf. Mavoρwvakтions, Delphin. in Milet. 122. I. 48.

'Iepúvaσoa IG. 12. 1. 469 (Rhod.).

Sáμap Hom.+[p. 82.

Suo- Aesch.

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Πλειστῶναξ

SGDI. 5657 (Chios), also for Spartan Πλειστόαναξ in Diod., etc. [p. 81.

@ejor@vas Ath. Mitt. 16. 141 (Cyzicus), IG. 11. 2. 106, 19 (Parian).

Αριστῶναξ IG. 12. 5. 872. 2. 96, etc. (Tenos, 6 times), IG. 12. 8. 163.20 (Samothrace), 'Apx. 'Ep. 1914, 7 (Cypr.).

Kparior@vaέ Hipp. 1. 198 Kühl.
Αρχώνασσα IG. 12. 7. 116. 3
(Amorgos).

Yuva Delphin. in Milet. 122.
I. 52.

vi Hom.+[p. 79.

ȧκpо- An. Bekk., Suid.

GENITIVE IN -ρτος

NOTES AND DISCUSSIONS

NOTE ON PLATO'S REPUBLIC

T. 562 A

Φέρε δή, τίς τρόπος τυραννίδος, ὦ φίλε ἑταῖρε, γίγνεται; ὅτι μὲν γὰρ ἐκ δημο κρατίας μεταβάλλει, σχεδὸν δῆλον. Δῆλον. Αρ' οὖν τρόπον τινὰ τὸν αὐτὸν ἔκ τε ὀλιγαρχίας δημοκρατία γίγνεται καὶ ἐκ δημοκρατίας τυραννίς;

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Of the two interpretations of τίς τρόπος τυραννίδος . . γίγνεται, Adam claims that "What do we find to be the character of tyranny?" is "so far as the language is concerned. . . . invulnerable" (II, 316), but he admits that it would be more natural if the question was, "How does a tyranny develop?" The second meaning is not only more natural, but, if the choice lies between the two, it is imperatively demanded by the context; yet it does appear "to do violence to the Greek." The first meaning is not invulnerable, even so far as the language is concerned. γίγνεται is a stumbling block. Plato asks the question, "What is the character of this constitution or individual?” in the following ways: τίς οὖν ὁ κατὰ ταύτην τὴν πολιτείαν ἀνήρ; πῶς τε γενόμενος ποιός τέ τις ὢν (548 D); ἀλλὰ τίς δὴ ὁ τρόπος τῆς πολιτείας, καὶ ποῖά ἐστιν ἃ ἔφαμεν αὐτὴν ἁμαρτήματα ἔχειν (551 Β); σκοπῶμεν ὥς τε γίγνεται οἷός τε γενόμενος ἔστιν (553 Α); σκοπῶμεν δὴ εἰ ὅμοιος ἂν εἴη (553 Ε); σκεπτέον τίνα τε γίγνεται τρόπον γενομένη τε ποιόν τινα έχει (555 Β); τίνα δὴ οὖν οὗτοι τρόπον οἰκοῦσι; καὶ ποία τις ἡ τοιαύτη αὖ πολιτεία (557 A); ἄθρει δὴ τίς ὁ τοιοῦτος ἰδίᾳ, ἢ πρῶτον σκεπτέον . . . . τίνα τρόπον γίγνεται (558 C); For γίγνομαι of the development of the constitution or individual compare also 545 C, 549 C, 559 D. It is exceedingly improbable, therefore, that γίγνεται in our passage refers to anything but development, and this interpretation is inevitable in view of the following ὅτι μὲν γὰρ ἐκ δημοκρατίας μεταβάλλει, σχεδὸν δῆλον.

....

For the correct interpretation we must go back to what immediately precedes: οἶμαι δέ γε, ἦν δ' ἐγώ, καὶ παντοδαπόν τε καὶ πλείστων ἠθῶν μεστόν, καὶ τὸν καλόν τε καὶ ποικίλον, ὥσπερ ἐκείνην τὴν πόλιν, τοῦτον τὸν ἄνδρα εἶναι· ὃν πολλοὶ ἂν καὶ πολλαὶ ζηλώσειαν τοῦ βίου, παραδείγματα πολιτειῶν τε καὶ τρόπων πλεῖστα ἐν αὑτῷ ἔχοντα (561 E). Compare with this the corresponding passage, which defines the democratic state in the same terms as this one does the democratic individual: ὅτι πάντα γένη πολιτειῶν ἔχει διὰ τὴν ἐξουσίαν, καὶ κινδυνεύει τῷ βουλομένῳ πόλιν κατασκευάζειν ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι εἰς δημοκρατουμένην ἐλθόντι πόλιν, ὃς ἂν αὐτὸν ἀρέσκῃ τρόπος, τοῦτον ἐκλέξασθαι, ὥσπερ εἰς παντοπώλιον ἀφικομένῳ πολιτειών (557 D). The democratic state and democratic man, says Plato, contain all kinds of τρόποι (εἴδη τρόπων 554 D).

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τις τρόπος τυραννίδος γίγνεται therefore means, “What τρόπος (of the many Tρórο in a democracy) develops into a Tрóros of tyranny; for that tyranny is a transformation of democracy is fairly evident?" or pèv yàp èk dnμoκparías plainly carries us back over the formal opening sentence of chapter xiv and closing sentence of chapter xiii to the real conclusion of the description of the democrat.

UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN

A. G. LAIRD

NOTE ON GREEK ΣKYAA 'SHADOW'

The etymological lexica have entirely missed the Hesychian gloss σκvdà· σká. Kluge, in his German lexicon, s.v., schauen, cites OHG scũwo, OE sčūa, O Norse skugge 'shadow,' from a root SKU, if I may here write the only grade involved. To this root, or rather to an extension in -D, belongs also σκυδά. Hesychius ascribes σκυδά to one Εύκλος. Is that an error in the transmission for the dithyrambist Eucles of the fourth century?

EDWIN W. FAY

UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS

EMENDATION OF SCHOLIA ON PINDAR PYTH. 1. 20

The scholion on Pindar's Táveres runs in Drachmann's Teubner text (ΙΙ, 14): ἄλλως· οὐ κατὰ παντός, ἀλλὰ κατὰ πᾶσαν ὥραν ἔτους. We must read, with a palaeographically insignificant change, où Kaтà Tâν TOS. The familiar logical formula κaтà ravτós misled either the copyist or the editor. Cf. Aristotle De Plantis 8196 13, kai tɩvà μèv katà Tâν ễTOS Yevv@vraι. More common, of course, is the Herodotean ἄνα πᾶν ἔτος.

PAUL SHOREY

IN MEMORIAM

At a special meeting, held July 31, 1917, the Trustees of the American Academy in Rome, on motion of Dean West, chairman of the Committee on the School of Classical Studies, seconded by Mr. Breck Trowbridge, chairman of the Committee on the School of Fine Arts, adopted the following minute regarding the death of Director Carter:

Jesse Benedict Carter was born in New York on June 16, 1872. He was of Scotch descent, the son of Peter Carter, the publisher, and of Mary Louise (Benedict) Carter, and a nephew of Robert Carter. His boyhood was happily nurtured in a home where books and studies were a natural part of the daily life. In 1889 his school days ended and he entered New York University. The next year he entered Princeton and graduated in 1893 at the head of his class. His brilliancy and range of power were evident from the start. He was first in every study he touched, whether it was ancient literature, physical science, philosophy, or history. His assiduous reading soon carried him far beyond the bounds of classroom tasks, widening the horizon of his regular studies and opening vistas into other regions, especially modern letters and fine arts. It is conceded that in the last generation Princeton has graduated no one more highly gifted or better trained in the studies of classical antiquity, and no one who combined with this special equipment a broader sweep of intellectual sympathy and vision. For four years after graduation he studied in classics and other fields at the Universities of Leipzig, Berlin, and Goettingen. He was still roving and ranging and yet slowly settling to his special work. The next three years he was instructor in Latin at Princeton. The effect of his vivid teaching on the students was instantaneous, quickening, and even thrilling. The next year was spent at the University of Halle, from which he received the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. He then returned to Princeton as assistant professor and took a leading part in organizing the Classical Seminary established by his friend Mr. George A. Armour. In 1902 he married Miss Kate Benedict Freeman. His devoted wife survives him. The same year he became professor of Latin, holding this post until 1904, when he went to Rome as professor in the American School of Classical Studies. In 1907 he was chosen director of the School and was retained in this position on the consolidation of the School with the American Academy in Rome in 1911. The warm admiration shown for his executive skill by the late Mr. Pierpont Morgan went far to insure the success of the consolidation.

On the death of Mr. Frank D. Millet in 1912 he was elected as director of the Academy. The five years which followed were years of incessant and

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at times distracting labors, until at last the Academy, with its two constituent schools, was settled in residence on the Janiculum and well started on its new career. Deserved recognition quickly followed his work, as evidenced by the degree of Doctor of Letters conferred by Princeton, the invitation to deliver the Lowell Lectures in Boston, the lectures he gave in France on request of the Minister of Public Instruction, and the final honor of Commander of the Crown of Italy, bestowed last year by the King.

To his regular duties he added an active co-operation of the Academy in measures of Italian war relief. In June of this year he went north to Paris, returning to Bologna to help in the ambulance work, and died there of sunstroke on July 20. He was buried on July 25 in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome.

His work has been of fundamental value. His gifts and training and, above all, his enthusiasm for the unity of arts and letters made him the best man to succeed Frank Millet and put the new plan into operation. For he was through and through a humanist. Substitute the greater word "Art" for "Sculpture," and the saying of Pomponius Gauricus (De sculptura i) would be his watchword: "I agree with you that Sculpture cannot exist without Letters, nor even Letters without Sculpture." It was art to quicken classical studies into brighter reality and classical studies to illumine art with the light of history.

For all this Rome herself was in his eyes the main source of power. The Eternal City was to him a fountain flowing with living waters-quickening memories, self-renewing and priceless for both art and letters, ancient and modern. To blend these into one powerful impulse was his one aim. It is little wonder that the students answered his call and that their daily fellowship is the sure pledge that his work, though unfinished, has been well begun.

Such faults as he had were not unlike his virtues. His exuberant vitality and brilliancy, the source of his strength, at times appeared in mannerisms which might easily be misunderstood. They were of a sort which endeared him to the Italians and added to his influence. It is doubtful whether anyone less impressionable and sympathetic could have performed his difficult task so well.

We lose him in the critical time of the great war. He was just coming into the fulness of his vigor. He was needed to guard and guide the new work. We had the best years of his life. No one can forget him-bright, alert, buoyant, friendly, flashing with life. His writings on Roman religion are secure in the esteem of scholars. His memory as an awakening teacher will last as long as his students survive. His administrative energy appears throughout our records. He lived to see the new plan well established, and for his loving labors he deserves remembrance as the chief intellectual builder of the new Academy.

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