What we call the ‘Eastern frontier’ of the Roman Empire was a thing of shadows, which reflected the diplomatic convenience of a given moment, and dictated the positioning of some soldiers and customs officials, but hardly affected the attitudes or the movements of the people on either side. Nothing more than the raids of desert nomads, for instance, hindered the endless movement of persons and ideas between Judaea and the Babylonian Jewish community. Similarly, as Lucian testifies, offerings came to the temple of Atargatis at Hierapolis-Bambyce from a wide area of the Near and Middle East, including Babylonia. The actual movement to and fro of individuals was reflected, as we have recently been reminded, in a close interrelation of artistic and architectural styles. Moreover, whatever qualifications have to be made in regard to specific places, it is incontestable that Semitic languages, primarily Aramaic in its various dialects, remained in active use, in a varying relationship to Greek, from the Tigris through the Fertile Crescent to the Phoenician coast. This region remained, we must now realize, a cultural unity, substantially unaffected by the empires of Rome or of Parthia or Sassanid Persia.

Dionysius of Halicarnassus arrived in Rome at one of the most exciting moments in Roman history, on the morrow of Actium in 30 B.C. He lived in Rome for twenty-two years and at the end, in 7 B.C., his history was finished, an authoritative—indeed, he claimed, the first authoritative—history of Rome from the Foundation down to 265 B.C. His work would be the first in the triad of reliable Greek histories of Rome. Possessing his book and the books of Polybius and Posidonius, a Greek reader would at last have a continuous and reliable history of Rome written for him in Greek and by Greeks from the Foundation down to the late Republic.

In chapters 7 to 29 of book 2, Dionysius gave an analytic account of the ordinances of Romulus, painting him in the character of a Greek nomothetes, responsible for nearly everything that was fundamental in Romanità.

It was too optimistic, or too modest, of Giovanni Forni to declare, in a recent study of matters connected with Bedriacum and the two battles of Cremona in A.D. 69: ‘Dopo che acuti ingegni di studiosi illustri hanno raccolto a manelle il grano nel campo della tradizione relativa alle due battaglie di Bedriaco, non resta che la spigolatura di sviste e di osservazioni sfuggite.’ In fact the labourers have been few, and their harvest meagre. Others have undoubtedly been deterred by the all too obvious tares in Tacitus' Histories. Of these the ugliest patch is that presented by, and associated with, the passage quoted. Upon the textual crux hinges our understanding of a number of inter-related problems to which no satisfying answers have as yet been found, and an attempt is now made to deal with these seriatim. Indeed, so much depends on the single word †Aduae† that Syme was fully justified in describing it as ‘the most notorious crux in the whole of Tacitus”. Unless we know the goal of the Othonian advance, we cannot reconstruct or evaluate the strategy that selected it; nor can we judge the meaning of Otho's great renunciation or the validity of Tacitus' praise of it. The various hypotheses of Mommsen, Henderson and Hardy have evoked serious objection, and Syme concluded his Tacitus, Appendix 30 (‘The Strategy of Otho’) with the declaration, ‘The puzzle remains.’ Ten years later Heubner comes to the same despairing conclusion.

The movement that commonly goes under the name of the Second Sophistic extends far beyond mere literary affectation. It is as much a social phenomenon to be understood within the context of the Roman Empire of the second and early third centuries as a cultural development basing itself upon the models of an earlier Greece. Evidence drawn only from orations and belles-lettres does not suffice to do justice to all its complexities, and recent authors have rightly adduced inscriptional and legal references to supply both background and explanation. Among them Professor Bowersock has discussed with clarity and percipience the immunities granted to sophists and men of learning by successive emperors in the second century, and has attempted to relate these grants to the social and intellectual life of the time. His account of their development is unexceptionable: the lavish immunities given by Hadrian were curtailed by Antoninus Pius, and the modifications of later emperors brought no appreciable change.

The location of the majority of major sites in Cyrenaica is well established. This has obscured the fact that our knowledge of the detailed topography of the area is in reality highly fragmentary, and can only be increased by detailed work in the field. The purpose of this article is to review the archaeological evidence from the area between Benghazi and Derna as it has been collected by the authors in recent years, and to give an account of its more important implications. On this basis one may examine the complex interrelation of local climate and geography that has controlled the development of settlement between the northern edge of the Cyrenaican plateau and the sea.

The administrative unit known to the Romans as Cyrenaica lies on the coast of North Africa between longitude 19° east and 24° east. Its southern limits were never defined, but any route to the south was effectively blocked by the Calanshu sand sea and the wastelands of the Jebel Zelten.

To study the position of the holy man in Late Roman society is to risk telling in one's own words a story that has often been excellently told before. In vivid essays, Norman Baynes has brought the lives of the saints to the attention of the social and religious historian of Late Antiquity. The patient work of the Bollandists has increased and clarified a substantial dossier of authentic narratives. These lives have provided the social historian with most of what he knows of the life of the average man in the Eastern Empire. They illuminate the variety and interaction of the local cultures of the Near East. The holy men themselves have been carefully studied, both as figures in the great Christological controversies of the fifth and sixth centuries, and as the arbiters of the distinctive traditions of Byzantine piety and ascetic theology.

The intention of this paper is to follow well known paths of scholarship on all these topics, while asking two basic questions: why did the holy man come to play such an important rôle in the society, of the fifth and sixth centuries ? What light do his activities throw on the values and functioning of a society that was prepared to concede him such importance? It is as well to ask such elementary questions. For there is a danger that the holy man may be taken for granted as part of the Byzantine scene. Most explanations of his position are deceptively easy.

There is hardly a more important character in the history of the Roman Republic than the young Patrician who first laid down the lines of Roman policy in Greece and the East—and hardly a more mysterious one, despite frequent discussion. It is only the first and perhaps the most puzzling of the problems concerning him that will occupy us here; but the very fact that it is the first gives it an importance quite independent of other considerations: we are not likely to solve the others as long as this one is ignored.

How did a young man of about twenty-nine come to be elected to a consulship and entrusted with a major war that had been going badly for Rome, after holding no office higher than the quaestorship—and holding even this lowly charge so inconspicuously that Livy does not even mention him in it? The very facts make it clear that we cannot give a certain answer: the evidence is not good enough.

The region in which Antigonea is to be sought is one of the most spectular in Europe. Its modern capital, Argyrokastro, is built on the steep and bare limestone mountainside to the west of the river Drin, which runs northwards through a narrow alluvial plain, enclosed on either side by roughly parallel ranges of great height. At this latitude the mountains of the Kurvelesh on the west, attaining heights over 5,000 feet, and the mountains of Llunxherië on the east, surpassing 6,000 feet, are relatively far apart; but as one proceeds northwards, the mountains converge and pinch the valley of the Drin between their towering masses. Here the Drin runs deep in a gorge, cut by its own waters in a shaley flysch formation, which is rich in springs, thickly wooded and deeply fissured. The modern road, which stays on the west side of the river, descends quite steeply through the gorge of the Drin. Below Lekel one enters an open flattish area, some 500 feet above sea-level, in which the Drin and the Bencë, emerging from an impassable limestone gorge, join the great river, the ancient Aous. The central point of the open area is Tepelenë, built beside the river. Below Tepelenë the Aous valley is relatively open, and the going is easy on foot, but the modern road climbs westwards and crosses the limestone mountain-sides on its way to the Bay of Valona. Above Tepelenë, or rather above Dragot, the Aous comes through a magnificent gorge, cut aeons ago by a much greater river. The floor is fairly level and bare of trees, and the river is confined in its conglomerate bed. The steep faces of the limestone mountains tower above one on either side, until one emerges from the gorge—the Aoi Stena—at Kelcyrë, where the countryside is open, undulating and wooded.

Numerous inscriptions from different parts of the Empire, and particularly from North Africa, testify to the munificence of the urban aristocracy. By munificence I mean the spending of wealthy individuals on, for example, monuments or projects of construction of one sort or another for their cities, or handouts of money, food or other commodities to their fellow-citizens. The significance of munificence from an economic viewpoint can be readily appreciated: it would not be an exaggeration to say that the prosperity of the cities rested in large part on the generosity of their leading citizens. In this paper, however, I will be concerned with some of the political and institutional implications of munificence. If the cities were financially dependent on their aristocracies, then the possession of wealth and the willingness to spend would clearly hold the key to both the acquisition and the retention of power. At the same time, we might expect some form of public control to have been exerted over aristocratic spending. In this connection, it may be significant that much of the expenditure of which we have record was incurred by individuals when they assumed magistracies or priesthoods or entered the local council. When would the wealthy have more readily submitted to financial levies than in the context of election victories? On the other hand, would it have been necessary to exact contributions from successful politicians, who would perhaps have shown their gratitude—and self-esteem—without any prompting through some form of public expenditure ? If any were inclined to hesitate, would they not have responded when reminded of the liberality of their predecessors ? In fact, it is not difficult to show that the dictates of the law, the weight of custom, and personal considerations and motives are all relevant; to determine the relative importance of the three factors is a more formidable task.

The career of Tiberius Claudius Maximus, published in the last volume of this Journal, is unique. The relevant portion runs: militavit eque(s) in leg(ione) VII C(laudia) p(ia) f(ideli), factus qu(a)estor equit(um), singularis legati legionis eiusdem, vexillarius equitum, item bello Dacico ob virtute(m) donis donatus ab imp(eratore) Domitiano, factus dupli(carius) a divo Troiano in ala secu(n)d(a) Pannoniorum, a quo et fa(c)tus explorator in bello Dacico et ob virtute(m) bis donis donatus bello Dacico et Parthico, et ab eode(m) factus decurio in ala eade(m), quod cepisset Decebalu(m) et caput eius pertulisset ei Ranisstoro, missus voluntarius honesta missione a Terent[io Scau]riano, consulare [exerci]tus provinciae nov[ae …

His career not only contains two otherwise unattested posts, quaestor equitum and singularis legati legionis, but is unparalleled in the promotion from principalis in a legion to duplicarius, an alternative title for optio, in an auxiliary unit. Speidel assumes that this latter move involved a pay rise, since transfer from a legion to an ala would usually be accompanied by an increase in pay. This assumption if correct has such far reaching implications that it requires detailed examination.

The harvest of new inscriptions from the past five years seems to be larger than ever, which is, no doubt, to be attributed to new developments in agriculture and building, especially in those countries which had hitherto changed little since antiquity; these are sharply increasing the number of monuments found (and sometimes destroyed) by chance, while more systematic search organized ahead of the machines in some areas (Italy is notable) has also increased the number found by design. It must be admitted that not all the new texts are being published very well; and that some are appearing only in sketchy or popular accounts and in newspapers or journals which are either irrelevant to Classical studies, or are mushrooms which die after a few numbers and so do not find their way into most Classical libraries. This is tedious, but better, surely, than that they should remain quite unreported. In any case, although the writer's own record in this matter is blacker than it should be, it seems reasonable to urge again that excavators and epigraphists should be more willing to give quickly an initial publication which does not aim to be definitive on the first round.

The denarii of M'. Fonteius, to be dated about 107 B.C., fall into two basic varieties, the first much more common than the second:

The heads of the Dioscuri on the obverse of the first variety presumably allude to the Tusculan origin of the moneyer, the ship perhaps to the transmarine origin of the family of the founder of Tusculum; but the symbolism of the second variety, for reasons which are unclear, is considerably more complex. The letters P P are generally held to stand for Penates Publici (rather than pecunia publica) and the obverse type is interpreted as reflecting the identification of the Dioscuri and the Penates. The arguments normally advanced for this view, however, are not entirely cogent.

Two events have conspired to redirect the attention of scholars towards the Zealots, who played so decisive a part in the Jewish rebellion against Rome between A.D. 66 and 73: the discovery of the Judaean Desert manuscripts, and the total excavation of Masada (1955–56; 1964–65). Both events have cast new light on the Zealot movement, but, as is so often the case with new discoveries, they have also created new problems, and neither can furnish a substitute for the careful examination of, and reflection upon, the character and origins of the movement. The important material has for long been available to scholars. Despite this, agreement has been rare. However conscientious historians have wished to be, they have tended to be influenced by the traditions to which they are the heirs. Denounced by their enemies in the ancient world, the Zealots, it may be thought, have also been exposed to subtler misunderstandings on the part of modern historians.

During the 1970 campaign of excavations at Aphrodisias in Caria, investigations begun during the previous summer in the Portico of Tiberius were continued and brought to light some 150 fragments of marble panels bearing inscriptions in Latin in a hand of the fourth century A.D. Initially, these fragments were considered additional evidence to the considerable harvest of pieces of Diocletian's Edict on Maximum Prices found in the course of preceding seasons. Most of them, indeed, proved to belong to the Edict. On closer examination and more careful transcription, however, it became clear that, while the Price Edict was cut on free standing panels, most of which were c. 0·12–0·14 m thick, a small number of fragments belonged to thicker panels.

Roman methods of fortification in the north-western portions of the Empire change significantly during the second half of the third century, the difference from the Principate being more apparent in military building than in civil. We may accept the universal view that these changes were due to increasing insecurity in Dacia, on the Rhine and Danube frontiers, and along the coast. From its beginnings in the first half of the century, the threat to the north-west by Germans and tribes from the steppes reached such a pitch in and after the 250's that it seriously endangered Roman rule in Europe. The Goths broke through the Danube frontier into Moesia several times from 238 onwards, and Roman morale was gravely affected when they killed Decius and his son in the disastrous battle of Abrittus (251). The northern barbarians fell upon towns in Greece and Asia Minor, and plundered them; only in the years following 268 did some emperors succeed in mastering the danger.

With the increasing sophistication of excavation and exploration our knowledge of the provinces of Rome has grown stunningly in recent years. It will, one may hope, continue to grow; but the prospect of further advances ought not to be a deterrent to periodic reassessment and synthesis. Specialization, inevitable and productive, nevertheless runs the risk of a loss of perspective. The study of the Roman provinces involves widely divergent skills, and this is especially true for regions at the fringes of the empire. The pages which follow constitute a gathering together of new material on the history of Roman Arabia. Incorporated in this report are various observations and discoveries of my own,—some the result of a profitable visit to the Middle East in January of 1970. In writing I have had particularly in mind the needs of Roman historians, including myself: this paper represents a preliminary stage in the preparation of a history of the province of Arabia. Obviously there can be no continuous narrative history here or a balanced consideration of all aspects of the province. New evidence and important problems (old or new) are at issue.

La bibliographie est fournie par les Fasti Archaeologici (sections ‘The Roman West’, ‘Christianity and Late Antiquity’), de l'International Association for Classical Archaeology (Rome, Piazza S. Marco, éditeur Sansoni, Florence); l'Année Philologique (Mlle J. Ernst, Paris, Belles Lettres), et la Chronique gallo-romaine de la Revue des Etudes Anciennes. On trouvera d'autres bilans partiels (pour telle province, telle période, tel type de source), dans l'Année épigraphique (jusqu'en 1968 in Revue Archéologique); la rubrique Archéologie de l'Antiquité classique; la Bibliographie annuelle de l'Histoire de France (Paris, C.N.R.S.); la Bibliographie d'histoire des villes de France, Paris, Klincksieck; la Bibliographie générate des travaux historiques et archéologiques (R. Gandilhon, Ch. Samaran); le Bulletin des Publications archéologiques et les rubriques ‘Chronique’ et ‘Périodiques’ des Etudes Celtiques; la Chronique d'art de la Gaule dans Art de France I (1961) et IV (1964, p. 5); la Chronique des publications et les Informations archéologiques de Gallia.