The European Union welfare standardsfor intensively kept pigs have steadilyincreased over the past few years and areproposed to continue in the future. It isimportant that the cost implications of thesechanges in welfare standards are assessed. Theaim of this study was to determine theprofitability of rearing pigs in a range ofhousing systems with different standards forpig welfare. Models were constructed tocalculate the cost of pig rearing (6–95 kg) in afully-slatted system (fulfilling minimum EUspace requirements, Directive 91630/EEC); apartly-slatted system; a high-welfare,straw-based system (...) (complying with the UK-basedRoyal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty toAnimals, Freedom Food standards) and afree-range system. The models were also used toassess the consequences of potential increasesin space allowance, and to estimate the cost ofrearing pigs under organic standards.The cost of rearing pigs ranged from92.0 p/kg carcass weight (cw) and 94.6 p/kgcw forthe partly-slatted and fully-slatted systems,to 98.8 p/kgcw and 99.3 p/kgcw for the FreedomFood and free-range systems respectively. Whenspace allowance was increased by 60% to levelsin a recent proposal to revise pig welfareDirective (91/630/EEC), the rearing costs wereunchanged for the free-range system but rose by4.6 p/kgcw for the fully-slatted system. Rearingcosts under organic standards were 31% higherthan in the free-range system. These resultssuggest that improved pig welfare can beachieved with a modest increase in cost. (shrink)

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)

So far as I am aware, the commentators on the above passageall say that it is imitated from Euripides, Bacchae 492 sqq., and the commentators on Euripides, loc. cit., agree. It seems to me, however, that there is reason to suppose them all wrong; not of course that there is no connexion between the two passages, for there most obviously is, but that Horace is not imitating the Greek directly, but an imitation or adaptation of it by Pacuvius.

The notes of W. S. Maguinness on the Corpus Tibullianum contain several things which strike me as either true or at least highly plausible. In the above passage, however, I think both he and Postgate have missed the point of the first word. Tibullus has been telling the story of how Apollo turned herdsman for love's sake. He insists several times over that it is a story, not a thing he can vouch for. The infinitives in 14 a-c make it (...) sufficiently evident that the lost pentameter began with fertur or dicitur; in 18, Artemis dicitur to have blushed for her brother's unseemly occupation; in 29, fertur that the gods used to serve Venus openly. The same line reminds us that these stories refer to old days, olim. Now comes the couplet in question. (shrink)

I. It has long been a standing puzzle why the women at the festival of Mater Matuta prayed, not for their own children, but for their sisters' offspring. The attempts to connect it with any sociological phenomenon are purely absurd, and would not have been noticed but for their association with one or two famous names and the complete ignorance of non-European systems of relationship prevailing among the scholars of an older generation. There is no system under which a woman (...) is closer akin to her sister's children than to her own; for under father-right a nephew or niece is further off than an own child, and if the system be pushed to the most logical and most absurd extremity, so as to make a child kin to his father only, not his mother, then he is also no kin to his mother's sister; under mother-right, which Rome never had in any form whatsoever, the mother is still nearer kin than the maternal aunt; while if ever there was, anywhere in the world, a classificatory system so pure and rigorous as to make no distinction between the actual mother and any other woman of the same age-class, then mother and aunt were in the same degree of kinship to every member of the younger generation. No ritual explanation I know will bear investigating. Yet the fact is handed down to us on good authority, probably that of Verrius Flaccus, the most likely common source for Ovid and Plutarch. (shrink)

I. It has long been a standing puzzle why the women at the festival of Mater Matuta prayed, not for their own children, but for their sisters' offspring. The attempts to connect it with any sociological phenomenon are purely absurd, and would not have been noticed but for their association with one or two famous names and the complete ignorance of non-European systems of relationship prevailing among the scholars of an older generation. There is no system under which a woman (...) is closer akin to her sister's children than to her own; for under father-right a nephew or niece is further off than an own child, and if the system be pushed to the most logical and most absurd extremity, so as to make a child kin to his father only, not his mother, then he is also no kin to his mother's sister; under mother-right, which Rome never had in any form whatsoever, the mother is still nearer kin than the maternal aunt; while if ever there was, anywhere in the world, a classificatory system so pure and rigorous as to make no distinction between the actual mother and any other woman of the same age-class, then mother and aunt were in the same degree of kinship to every member of the younger generation. No ritual explanation I know will bear investigating. Yet the fact is handed down to us on good authority, probably that of Verrius Flaccus, the most likely common source for Ovid and Plutarch. (shrink)

So far as I am aware, the commentators on the above passageall say that it is imitated from Euripides, Bacchae 492 sqq., and the commentators on Euripides, loc. cit., agree. It seems to me, however, that there is reason to suppose them all wrong; not of course that there is no connexion between the two passages, for there most obviously is, but that Horace is not imitating the Greek directly, but an imitation or adaptation of it by Pacuvius.

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?

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?

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)

That a considerable fragment of the Fabulae of Hyginus—whoever Hyginus may have been and whenever he lived—exists in a Greek translation in the Hermeneumata Leidensia is well known to all students of his work. Indeed, this extract furnishes the terminus ante quem for Hyginus’ date in its opening words; I cite it as accented and punctuated by Schmidt : Maξμѱ ka “Aπρ v´πáτoιs πρò у εδν ΣεπTεμβρων ‘Ỵуνoυ уενεaλoуaν πâσιν уνωστν μετуραΨα, ν σoνται π λεoν στoρατ δτερμνευνατ ν τoτ τ (...) βιβλ θεν уàρ kα θεáων νματα ν δευτρ ξεπλξαμεν λ’ π τoτ σoνται τoτων ξμуσεισ, ε kα μ πσαι, ττων μντoιуε ν τoστ δναμαι. (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)

Having recently chosen to lecture on the Pythian Odes, and coming in due course to the ninth, I naturally consulted Dr. Farnell's translation and his article in the Classical Quarterly with regard to the puzzling question of the connexion in thought between lines 76–96 and the rest of the ode. Being more or less dissatisfied both with his views and with those of such other commentators as were known to me, I am now attempting to analyze the poem myself in (...) hopes of showing that it is a more continuous whole than has been generally supposed. (shrink)

Having recently chosen to lecture on the Pythian Odes, and coming in due course to the ninth, I naturally consulted Dr. Farnell's translation and his article in the Classical Quarterly with regard to the puzzling question of the connexion in thought between lines 76–96 and the rest of the ode. Being more or less dissatisfied both with his views and with those of such other commentators as were known to me, I am now attempting to analyze the poem myself in (...) hopes of showing that it is a more continuous whole than has been generally supposed. (shrink)

That mox means, or can mean, ‘soon,’ is an assertion which is made often and positively, in works of all sorts, from the ordinary dictionaries, such as Facciolati-Forcellini and Lewis and Short, and valuable writings on lexicography such as Merguet's lexicon to Cicero and Krebs-Schmalz' Antibarbarus, down to the latest little school book at which I have looked. As I had never been able to find a passage in which it clearly and unambiguously had that meaning, in any classical author, (...) I have thought it worth while to examine all the instances in a few good writers, with a view to finding out how they really do use it. (shrink)

Thatmox means, or can mean, ‘soon,’ is an assertion which is made often and positively, in works of all sorts, from the ordinary dictionaries, such as Facciolati-Forcellini and Lewis and Short, and valuable writings on lexicography such as Merguet's lexicon to Cicero and Krebs-Schmalz' Antibarbarus, down to the latest little school book at which I have looked. As I had never been able to find a passage in which it clearly and unambiguously had that meaning, in any classical author, I (...) have thought it worth while to examine all the instances in a few good writers, with a view to finding out how they really do use it. (shrink)

Not a little speculation has been expended on the Genius in ancient and modern times. I propose very briefly to recapitulate the known facts about him, examine the chief explanations, and give what I consider the true one.

The sumptuous edition of Herodas by Headlam-Knox, while it throws welcome light on many dark places, is perhaps hardly adequate in a few points where ancient religious ideas are involved. I venture, therefore, to offer the following suggestions: I. II and 66, μà τàς Моίρας. IV.30, πρòς Моιρέων. I. 32,μà τήν Αϊδεω Κούρην. I. 69, μà … τήν Φίλην δήμητρα.

It is not without a certain feeling of surprise that I find the fragment preserved by Strabo VIII. 3, 20, and somewhat doubtfully ascribed by him to Stesichoros, still commonly attributed to that writer. As the purpose of this note is to give what seem to me cogent reasons for holding that no poem of such a metre and content could be by an author of any possible date earlier than Alexandrian times, I cite the passage of Strabo in full. (...) It runs as follows, and is part of an argument for the existence of an ancient city called Samos in Elis. (shrink)

It is no longer the fashion to imagine Herodotos a liar when he tells marvellous stories, for some of his most extraordinary statements have long since been shown to contain at least a substantial measure of truth. It is perhaps not sufficiently realized, however, that on occasion he misleads his readers and himself by too much critical unbelief in his materials and consequent application of the crude methods of mythological investigation then current. In other words, he often rationalizes in the (...) only way then possible, superficially altering the story so as to rid himself of the incredible details, or at all events, as I think, attributing to the actors motives which a somewhat drily rational mind could understand and approve or condemn. It is of course well known that at least the former method was a commonplace of the sophists, whose influence on Herodotos is manifest and widespread; it has been said, indeed, that it is much older than they and characteristically Ionic. L. Radermacher finds traces of it in the Odyssey itself and adds that, although we can sometimes catch the rationalizer at work, we cannot be sure of always doing so and ‘müssen annehmen, dass der Glaube an die Geschichtlichkeit ihrer Sage manche griechischen Autoren früh verführt hat, sie geschichtlicher zu erzählen als eigentlich erlaubt war’. This is a true and useful statement. Modern criticism has long learned to set aside ancient allegorizations of myths, about which I need say nothing, for the subject has been repeatedly and well handled by my colleague, Dr. J. Tate; it has often, however, confused ancient interpretation of myth with ancient criticism of saga. Euhemerism indeed is usually recognized for what it is, although even this is not always so; but uixere inepti ante Euhemerum multi, and their efforts are by no means always distinguished either from allegorizing or from real sagas. For an example of the former confusion I may refer to Stallbaum's note on Plato, Phaedrus, 29 C-D, where the reader is referred to the account given by Lobeck of the rise and growth of allegorization. But Plato says nothing at all of allegories in this passage. He quotes, with ironical admiration of its ‘wisdom’, a version of the story of Boreas and Oreithyia according to which she. was knocked off the Areiopagos, or some other place, by a strong north wind, and so was killed and consequently said to have been carried away by Boreas. He adds that it would be a laborious and dismal business to go through all the tales of wonder in that way, rationalizing the Hippocentaurs, Gorgons, Chimaira, Pegasos, and the rest out of existence; a wise saying which was uttered in vain for Palaiphatos and his kind. However, most moderns know a myth from a saga and an allegory from a crude rationalization which accepts the story as true except for the incredibilities and is quite ready to believe, for instance, in Romulus if we will but postulate that he was not snatched up to heaven but murdered and his body hidden. There is a much more subtle snare, consisting of a story which, although rationalized, is well told, and Herodotos in this respect can be a notable offender, for he never tells a story ill. (shrink)

The publication of Dr. Warren E. Blake's edition of the romance of Chariton has at last made it possible to know what the tradition of the text amounts to and form some opinion of its principal weaknesses. That these include lacunae will be obvious to anyone who even glances through his apparatus criticus; I think there are at least three which neither he nor any of the former editors has noted. The supplements I propose are of course mere examples of (...) how they might be filled; their existence seems pretty certain, but no more than the general sense of what is missing is likely to be got unless some new papyrus or other unexpected find puts us in possession of more evidence. (shrink)

Professor Housman states that stella never is used to mean sidus, and for authors of the best age I believe he is right; at least I know of no examples except those which he convincingly explains away in the article quoted. There seem, however, to be instances of this usage perhaps as early as the age of the Antonines. Hyginus, fab. cxcv, says of Orion, ab Ioue in stellarum numenim est relatus, quam stellam Orionem uocant. Again, fab. ccxxiv, Crotos…in stellam (...) Sagittarium. Hyginus, it is true, was a fool, and his book is crammed with mistakes, including astronomical blunders; thus, just after the last-quoted passage, and also in fab. cxxx, he names the star Arcturus when he means the constellation Arctophylax, or Bootes. But I cannot think him quite so grossly ignorant, since he was interested in star-myths, as not to know that Orion and Sagittarius are constellations. It may be, however, that the use of stella in these passages is due, not to Hyginus himself, but to the epitomators whose extracts from the original work are all that has come down to us. Of these gentry I can believe almost anything that implies false Latin or general ignorance. (shrink)

The following lines are a famous crux: τ μν τι βασιλες σσ μεγαλν πολων ει συγγενς φθαλμς αδοιτατον γρας τε τοτο μειγνμενον φρεν. The reading is that of all MSS., save for the necessary correction αδοιτατον for αδοιςτατον, which will not scan. I have purposely left it without punctuation. The core of the difficulty of course is the word φθαλμς Farnell, it seems to me, has made it abundantly clear that this cannot be literal, for, apart from the oddity of (...) the epithet συγγενς in such a context, to take it as meaning the actual physical eye of Arkesilas involves giving ει the impossible meaning ‘sees’. But the metaphorical meaning is not much easier. A person or group of persons can be the ‘eye’, that is to say the most precious part, of something, as the Emmenidai were the ‘eye of Sicily’, Ol. ii, 10, Amphiaraos the ‘eye’ of Adrastos' army, Ol. vi, 16, the eldest or only son, or even the presence of the master, the ‘eye’ of the house , a child the ‘eye’—we should perhaps say ‘light’—of his mother's life, Eurip. Andr., 406, and perhaps, for the interpretation is not too certain, a chosen band of Athenians the ‘eye’ of Theseus' land, Aesch., Eumen., 1025. In these instances we may I think acquiesce in Groeneboom's remark on Pers., loc. cit., that ‘eye’ is used to signify the most precious or noble part of something, its glory. (shrink)

No ancient has told us in any surviving writing when Iambulos lived. Lucian says no more than that he composed a work obviously fabulous but quite amusing; Diodoros of Sicily, the only other author to mention him at all, earns our gratitude by excerpting his romance, apparently under the impression that it was sober fact. Moderns are accordingly vague in dating him. It is obvious that he must be earlier than or contemporary with Diodoros, whose historical work mentions no date (...) later than 54 B.C, but his allusions to events of his own life indicate that he was old enough to take an intelligent interest in the world as early as about 60 B.C, and still alive as late as 21 B.C. Kroll contents himself with indicating that Iambulos is later than Megasthenes, which gives us a range of close on 250 years. I think, however, that we may reduce this very considerably and place Iambulos, if not in any definite year, at least within a period of less than a century. (shrink)

There is an epigram preserved in two lives of Pindar, that in the scholia Ambrosiana and the rambling biography of the poet by Eustathios. It is perhaps most conveniently accessible in von Christ's larger edition of Pindar, pp. ci and cii, and runs as follows: μλα ρωτμχτε καμητισ λιуφωνιινδρ‘nu; κλατ θуατρεσ πιντα, αρуθεν μoσ κντκμζσ νδoθι κρωσσλειψαν' π' ༀπ ξεινησ θρα πρκαïσ. IIρωτμχη Eustathius. 2. Éκλατα ινδρ θуατρεσ East. et Ambr., corr. Gerhard.

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)