The story of the Wooden Horse is told by three different characters in the Odyssey. It is first told by Menelaos at d 266-289, then by Demodokos at q 499-520, and lastly by Odysseus at l 505-537. Previous studies on these three passages have shown that the details of these three accounts are so composed that each account fits its context. In the present paper, I would like to further the observations in those studies by comparing the three passages, especially in terms of whether what is happening outside or inside the Wooden Horse is described in each account, and by considering the interrelationship between these accounts.

In Menelaos' account, both Helen's behaviour outside the Wooden Horse and Odysseus' behaviour inside are depicted. Menelaos' depiction of Helen as behaving irrationally and endangering the Greek soldiers undermines her own favourable depiction of herself (d 244-264) as a woman who kept the secret of Odysseus' identity and whose sympathy was already on the Greek side. On the other hand, the depiction of Odysseus in Menelaos' account emphasizes his steadfast resistance to temptation. The detail of Odysseus seizing Antiklos' mouth enhances this effect.

Odysseus asks Demodokos to sing of the Wooden Horse. The wording employed in his request to Demodokos (q 494-5) indicates that Odysseus desires to hear especially of his own brilliant prowess as the leader of the enterprise of the Wooden Horse. Demodokos, however, concentrates on the fatal meeting of the Trojans outside the Wooden Horse, not Odysseus' leading role among the Greek soldiers inside. In relation to the contrast between Odysseus' request and the actual content of the song, it should be noted that Odysseus asks Demodokos to sing of the Wooden Horse �which godlike Odysseus led to the acropolis� (q 494-5), whereas it is stated in Demodokos' song that it was the Trojans themselves who brought it to the acropolis (q 504). The song of Demodokos emphasizes the suffering of the war, especially on the Trojan side, rather than Odysseus' prowess. The simile of a captive war widow attached to Odysseus (q 523-530) points up the suffering of the Trojans in Demodokos' song.

Since Odysseus' account of the Wooden Horse is a reply to Achilleus' question about his son, it contains detailed description of Neoptolemos' prowess. The description of Neoptolemos' exploits suggests that father and son played similar roles among the Greeks. This account also contains descriptions of Odysseus' own exploits. Especially, Odysseus claims that he was responsible for opening the Wooden Horse at the right moment for the attack, and for keeping it closed until then (l 524-5). Like Menelaos' account, Odysseus' account of the Wooden Horse has two foci (Neoptolemos and Odysseus), though the two accounts differ in that Menelaos, whose foci are Odysseus and Helen, describes both the inside and outside of the Wooden Horse, whereas Odysseus concentrates on the inside.

As we have observed above, Odysseus' key role does not feature in Demodokos' account of the story, even though Odysseus specifically requests to hear it. In this respect, it is notable that both Demodokos' song and Odysseus' account of the Wooden Horse, which is a part of his lengthy story of his wanderings (the apologoi), are presented to the same audience at Alkinoos' palace on the same evening. Though a long stretch of Odysseus' story of his adventures intervenes between the two accounts of the Wooden Horse, the fact that the apologoi are addressed to the Phaiakians at the court of Alkinoos is brought back to our attention by the intermission in Odysseus' narrative at l 333-376. It is conceivable that Odysseus adds the detail of his own leading role inside the Wooden Horse in order to correct the song of Demodokos.

With the perspective given by Bundy, most of the difficulties of the Second Pythian are being solved. But the problem of line 67 is not yet. The ode seems to end here, the final triad being an 'appendix' or 'supplement' which cannot be tied to the themes of argument in its preceding part. This paper assumes that "the establishing of the argument throughout the ode is the minimum prerequisite for an interpretation of an ode" (Slater, CJ 72 (1977), 199). The purpose of this paper is to establish the argument in the final triad of the Second Pythian, especially around the fissure of line 67.

The problem of 67 is evident: both the context and the wording seem to suggest the end of the ode. A large ring-composition of praise-myth-praise has just closed, and cai're means 'farewell'. Should not the ode end here? This anticipation, however, is to be proved irrelevant.

Direct praise does not suggest the end of an ode. Besides P. 2, there are 25 odes that have a myth in their centre. 7 of them lack any direct praise in the post-myth part. Of the remaining 18 odes, in at least 8 odes (O. 6, 8, 9; P. 8, 10, 11; N. 9; I. 1) the first direct praise after the myth ends leaving more than one epode/strophe, allowing transition of themes.

Transition is also indicated by cai're. In hymns cai're is not 'farewell' but �delight in these�. By affirming the establishment of the cavri"-relationship with the god and requesting reciprocal good-will, the singer can now turn to other themes, without arousing any anger of the god. This structure is seen in I. 1. 32, where caivrete indicates the transition from the hymnal praise to the theme before it, with a digressional framing. In P. 2. 67, cai're indicates the transition from the direct praise of the victor, followed by the statement of how beautiful the song is which establishes the cavri"-relationship.

Not an end, therefore, but transition is prepared at 67-71. How is the transition made, then? We must understand the significance of 72, almost a variation of gnw'qi seautovn, and the clue to it must be in what is said before the direct praise which is a digression.

(It may seem strange to consider the direct praise, the most important part in the epinician argument, as a digression. But this structure has parallels. In P. 10. 53-63 the direct praise is framed with maxims of a[llote a[llon, by varying in their implications to suit the argument; cf. also P. 8. 73-97, N. 11. 13-32, I. 2. 30-45.)

In 49-61, three points must be noted. First, the break-off in 52-56 is made of the denial of kakagoriva, which is emphasized in 58-60. Second, the qau'ma-motif which brought the break-off (49-52) consists in the affirmation of the greatness of gods, but at this point there seems to be no relation between this affirmation and the conclusion, i.e. the denial of kakagoriva. Third, it is stated that �human success and failure are effectuated as god pleases� (51-52).

This third point makes clear the meaning of gevnoi� oi|o" ejssi; maqwvn: this phrase is a maxim of swfrosuvnh, which resumes the theme of 51-52. Second-person does not refer to Hieron. It is indefinite (this shift of reference is supported by (1) the asyndeton, (2) the phrase being a maxim, (3) the closure of the digressional framing, and (4) the parallel in P. 1. 81-92).

The final triad develops around these three points. In 72-78 the theme of swfrosuvnh goes to the background and that of kakagoriva to the front. Its practice, danger and inefficacy are depicted with metaphors. But its inefficacy is not gained freely: in 79-88 it is stated what must be done in order to make kakagoriva ineffectual. Its practice is depicted with another metaphor, this time together with the opposite practice of good citizens. And by referring to common morals, kakagoriva becomes the opposite of divkh: it is needed to be eujquvglwsso", to praise and blame accordingly. In 88-96 it becomes finally clear the relation between gods and kakagoriva: with maxims of swfrosuvnh recurred to, kakagoriva is now shown as a u{bri" against gods. 96 is a common phrase which has parallels, but it also sums up the argument of the ode: 'I (first-person indefinite) shall avoid kakagoriva, I shall praise and blame accordingly.

The conclusion of this paper is: the final triad of the Second Pythian is tied to the themes of the argument of the ode. No end of the ode is hinted at 67. cai're indicates the end of the direct praise, and 72-96 resumes and develops the themes before this digression, i.e. the problem of kakagoriva, its relation to gods, and the crevo" of praise.

We have many materials of state honorary decrees in fourth-century Athens. Honours were mostly awarded to non-citizens, but some were to Athenian citizens. Though these decrees which honoured fellow citizens might bring about social inequality among citizens, honours and privileges continued nevertheless to be conferred on citizens by them. This paper is intended to shed light on social functions of these honorary decrees in the Athenian citizen body in those days.

I use not only inscriptional materials, but also classical ones in order to supplement materials of the decrees awarded to citizens. According to these materials, the characteristics of these decrees are as follows. 1. Increase in the number of honorary decrees in the third quarter of fourth century. It has been explained as repayments for liturgies made by propertied persons in order to get over financial crisis after the fall of the Athenian Empire. 2. A custom of honorary decrees ex officio, that is, conferment of routine honours to the officials whose term of service expired. Some scholars explain them as a means of making citizens who were indifferent to politics participate in the government, and others argue that they were helpful to secure political leaders indispensable for democracy. 3. Reservations that officials could receive honours only after they gave accounts(euthynai). They seem to have prevented awarding honours to corrupt officials. 4. More detailed description of reasons for honours than before. Besides explanation by the wishes for honorees to push themselves forward, it has been interpreted as a means of promotion for other citizens' services to the polis.

These opinions are right for the most part, but there remains a problem. If the number of honorary decrees increased in the those days than before, the relative worth of them must have gone down and their functions as a means of promotion for citizens' services to the polis would have weakened. I propose two other social functions of the honorary decrees. One function is that the honorary decrees framed and reconfirmed ethical criterion among citizens. To make discussions which preceded the decisions in the assembly and to open the honorary inscriptions to the public would contribute to make image of ideal citizens and drum this image into citizens. This function might give an explanation of social stability of Athens in those days.

Another function can be assumed. A would-be honoree must obey orders of a honorer in order to secure honours and, if he can, to receive higher honours. The honorary system is, therefore, an effective means of administrative guidance. It seems to have been the case in classical Athens. Officials aspiring to receive honours ex officio couldn't help obeying the intention of the assembly and the rhetores as its opinion leaders (Demosth. 1,111; 20,8; 20). This function must also give the assembly, that is, the Athenian citizen body the means to control the officials. And moreover, it is difficult for a third party to realize this kind of control. In such ways the honorary system awarded to the fellow citizens contributed to the exceptional social stability of fourth-century Athens.

In 421/0 B.C. the festival of Hephaistos was organized or reorganized at Athens (IG I(3) 82). Many studies have generally supporsed that this event along with the resumption of building of the Hephaisteion honored Hephaistos and Athena as the patron deities of metalworking and handicraft. Whereas I recognize the importance of the two gods in these areas, I contend also that too little attention has been paid to the reasons why this minor god suddenly attracted Athenian state attention and why his festival was (re)organized in the period after the end of the Archidamian War that lasted 10 years.

The contents of the Hephaistia lacked features with special relation to handicraft or metalworking. Rather, the Hephaistia seems to have been a festival for all citizens, consisting mainly of tribal team races, contests, and a procession. On the other hand, a distribution of sacrificial meat for metics may be regarded as a token�@of Athens' gratitude for their services in the areas of handicraft and metalworking. However, the clause of the distribution bears special terms, to which little attention has been paid until now. That is, a distribution of 'raw meat' (�m� t� kr�a). This should indicate, I think, that there were two procedures for distribution of sacrificial meat; one for Athenian citizens, the other for non-Athenians, metics. This might be the reason why two sets of hieropoioi were exceptionally elected. Therefore, this would mean that the receivers of 'raw meat', i.e. metics, were not essentially participants of the festival and the festival aimed at exclusively Athenian citizens in a ritual sense.

In the course of the fifth century the myth of Erichthonios had become systematized alongside increasing claims to autochthony, and Hephaistos has a relevant place as father of Erichthonios. Even so, this character seems to have been underestimated in studies of Athenian religion. Although there are not many sources, a few certainly exist which characterize him as Athenian mythical ancestor in cults and rites since the fifth century.

The most representative of these is a rite devoted to Hephaistos at the festival Apatouria reported by Istros in the last half of the third century. Irrespective of Istros' explanation, we should recognize that in that rite Hephaistos was regarded as mythical ancestor as a rite for him was added to the great ancestral festival Apatouria. Besides, although this relation between Hephaistos and the Apatouria has been supposed to be very ancient in origin, such an inference is not base on any certain sources. It would be more appropriate to infer that the relationship was not formed until the fourth century when state concern for phratries was increased.

In 451/0 B.C. Pericles' citizenship law was enacted, and thereafter it played an important role in deciding Athenians' identity alongside the tradition of Athenian autochthony. However, there was an inconsistency between these two concepts. Autochthony was the claim to be born from the earth, i.e. born from unisexual (maternal) reproduction, while on the other hand Pericles' citizenship law required two citizen parents, i.e. father and mother. In this point, the claim to autochthony had not a function to keep Athenians observing the law.

When the 10 years-long war ended, Athens felt a need to tighten up and reintegrate her citizen body. It was the Hephaistia that was utilized for this purpose. An especially important point of the Hephaistia is that the festival was devoted not only to Hephaistos but also to Athena. The Hephaistia honored Hephaistos and Athena as the mythical father and mother gods of autochthonous Athenians rather than as the patron deities of metalworkers and craftsmen. Through participation in the festival, it was intended to make Athenians reconfirm that their citizenship was also obtained through their lawful parents in the same way as their autochthony through their ancestral gods. In addition, there was an intention to make Athenians reconfirm and reintegrate their membership through rites consisting of tribal actions, on the other hand to fix the boundary between citizen and metic.

Consequently, the enactment of the Hephaistia in 421/0 B.C. was an art of religious politics aimed at Athenian citizens. In this point, the Hephaistia may be contrasted with other Athenian major cults such as the Panathenaia (at which not only citizens but also metics, the allies of Athens and even non-Greeks took part in the procession and which was used for religious propaganda for the Athenian Empire), and the cult of the Two Goddesses of Eleusis (which urged all Greeks to offer their first fruits).

Although there is some controversy about the authenticity of Hippias Major,�@the majority now take it to be Plato's own work. But the assessment of 'philosophy' involved in it has just begun with the commentary of P.Woodruff. But most scholars including Woodruff who think the fine to be open to definition regard the aporia of search as representing the failure of Socratic argument depicted by Plato.

But in my view, this is a grave fault of interpreters. As a result,the defini- tions of the fine by the beneficial and the beneficial pleasure, which are the key points of the dialogue, have not yet been given proper and successful interpretation. My task in this paper is to give a new interpretation of this dialogue, focusing on the concept of the beneficial.

Hippias, Socrates' interlocutor in this dialogue, displays the fine practices desirable in youth through a fictional discourse based on Homer. Conversely, he teaches fine things without himself knowing the fine. The problem of the beauty of virtue lies hidden in the initial situation of the dialogue. Examining Hippias' ideas of the fine, Socrates shows the fine to be an incom- plete predicate during the refutation of Hippias. To refute Hippias' first proposal(fine girl) and his third one(happy life), Socrates refers to the ex- istence of gods. But Hippias' second proposal(gold)is refuted by the notion of appropriateness he himself applied. The appropriateness is at first intro- duced as a visual one, but is immediately transformed to a moral one, i.e. the appropriateness to ends. The visual appropriateness per se has not yet been examined.

In Socrates' self-refutation, his proposal for the definitions of the fine is concerned with human motivation, whose archetype was presented in Grg. 474de. Motivations which are introduced into the argument through visual appropri- ateness have two series. 1. utility: the useful �� the beneficial. 2. plea- sure: pleasure through sight and hearing �� beneficial pleasure. In each series, the last definition makes explicit the relation of the fine and the good through the notion of beneficial, which leads to aporia.

But among fine things, there are some which cannot be perceived as fine. These are the beauty of law and practice Plato esteems highly. The visual appropri- ateness is concerned with perception, not with being. Then, the appropriate- ness to ends, that is, utily comes in. But usefulness for doing bad things cannot receive approbation. If good things are substituted for bad things, can the definition of the fine be formed successfully? But, if the good is made consequent of the productive agent(doing or making) and the fine is made antecedent of it, this results in the non-identity of the fine with the good. The beneficial does not explain the fine. The fine cannot be composed of objective good things. With this result, Socrates turns to the examination of the second series of motivations: pleasure. Does pleasure through sight and hearing, i.e. pleasure(s+h), explain the fine? The problems with which Plato is faced in this definition are the following. 1. Is the beauty of law and practice explicable by pleasure(s+h)? 2. Does pleasure(s+h) explain the fine? But the definiens, pleasure(s+h), which takes the form of a conjunction, cannot denote a single thing. (The same is true with disjunction.) Problem 1 can be answered only after problem 2 is settled definitely. But because the definition of the fine by pleasure(s+h) failed, problem 1 remains open.

Why is the term fine' applied to pleasure(s+h)? The ground for predicating 'fine' about pleasure(s+h) is asked here. Is there any explanation convertible with and inherent in the fine? To this question Socrates answers that pleasure(s+h) is the most harmless and the best. When one asks with reflection the ground of predicating 'fine', the other name of the term 'fine', i.e. 'good', comes in. The fine cannot be analysed. If one changes the expression 'good' to 'beneficial', the last definition, beneficial pleasure, emerges. But to define the fine by the beneficial results in the non-identity of the fine with the good. The fine cannot be composed. Although the fine is not susceptible of analysis and composition, it has meaning. The quest in this dialogue to seek the definition of the fine proves it. If the fine has meaning but at the same time does not have any explanation convertible with itself, the only proper way to explain that fine things(�у� �ȃ��Ƀ�) are fine(�ȃ��Ƀ�) is 'by the fine'(�у� �ȃ��Ƀ�). But at the end of the dialogue, Socrates cannot explain what this 'fine' is. This is Socrates' self-realisation of ignorance in this dialogue.

The purpose of this study is to investigate the philosophical significance of the Socratic elenchus. Firstly I'll consider in Gorgias what status the conclusion non-p and premises {q, r} have. Though this formulation is borrowed from G. Vlastos, I shall argue from my own individual viewpoint.

The Socratic elenchus is based on an investigation of the grounds for effective use by the interlocutors of the terms 'right/wrong' and 'beautiful/ugly' etc. Polus stated 'Doing injustice is better than suffering it' at first but changed his mind and acknowledged Socrates' assertion because he admitted 'Doing injustice is uglier than suffering it'.

On the other hand Callicles denies it. He considers gratification or pleasure as a regulator of 'beauty'. But gratification has no attainment and changes all the time (493a); therefore, we usually talk about desire with some assumption of its identity.

But this fact does not mean that we rightly appreciate its reality. Socrates says to Callicles, "These all come to a head in the life of catamites, isn't that strange and shameful and wretched?"(494e). Callicles is stuck for a reply because he already understands that pleasure is open to evaluative criticism. Socrates suggests that study of 'good' is essential to discuss 'pleasure' by introducing 'good pleasure' into the discussion (494e-495a). If our world of value consists of these words, we can not reach the truth without investigating the relationship among these words. The problem which we must consider here is that people except Socrates have no idea about the relationship between 'beauty' and 'good'. Indeed 'Iron and adamantine logos' (508e-509a) represents consistency formally, but what needs to be emphasized is to pay attention to the content. It contains value terms and is introduced to combine 'doing injustice' with 'shameful' and 'evil'. This is a emphatic expression of necessity. Socrats 'can say nothing else' (522c, cf.507a) about not-p for this necessity and he is 'always saying the same thing' (491b) as philosophy is doing. This leads into his clear assertion of the truth. Polus' and Callicles' logos is not concernd with 'thing (pragma)' itself and so the elenchus which is based on necessity of logos is demanded. Socrates' elenchus is carried out in logos, but it presses reconsideration of logos itself upon us. Take the introduction of 'flattery' (463b, 464e) and 'temperance' (491d) for example, the elenchus by them breaks up a doxa about value and prompts us to understand the world of value.

Taking this into consideration we can derive the argument that Vlastos' assertion that we have 'acquired knowledge about everything - in the form of true covert beliefs' is reasonable in as much as that we possess necessaries for elenchus in our logos.

But we can put it more accurately as follows: we possess necessaries for elenchus not as 'knowledge in the form of true covert beliefs' but as 'form (scheme) of logos as a whole' in which we form our life. In this 'form' the investigation is to be possible and significant. This investigation allow us to discuss ourselves first.

I would want to go further and claim that it is impossible to simply say that Socrates draws non-p from q, r. Socrates and interlocutor do a co-operative work that will help the latter be conscious of his true character and the former be sure of his thought (viz. 'examination of both self and others'). Socrates' central belief is 'Doing injustice is worse than suffering it'. This is backed up by the intention for 'pragma'. This work is carried out by disjoining this central belief into the collection of logos with all clearness for both (Vlastos' q, r are keys to it) and putting it together again. Though Polus approves the logos that 'Doing injustice is uglier than suffering it', Callicles does not do so. In this case, Socrates disjoins this logos into the collection of logos with all clearness for both and reestablishes it. The dialogue goes deeper, the logos becomes more fundamental. The viewpoint which Socrates' logos stands is in what 'the self-consciousness of ignorance' is equivalent to 'bringing "good" into question as itself' without reducing to any other concepts. The proposition that the necessity binds down then is more fundamental in the whole of logos, so 'I can say nothing else(522c, cf.507a)'. And relevant to this issue is a view that the ethical problem becomes an object of question not as 'thick concept' but as 'thin concept' (terms borrowed from B. Williams).

This way of understanding our world of value allows us to be convinced of truth, even though we are not related to knowledge as Vlastos supposes.

What is the purpose and the meaning of the second part of the Parmenides? In what sense the so called training(gymnasia) should be understood? Since ancient times it has long been the matter of controversy. And recently again, some attempts as that of C. C. Meinwald are being made to interpret the laborious demonstrations with a view to finding out some implication therein to answer the critical arguments against the theory of Forms in the first part of the dialogue. But although a number of various interpretations have been proposed, any of them does not seem to have attained a general agreement aw yet. Generally speaking, most of them used to try to find a single key to solve the whole puzzle at once and rather tended to fall into an arbitrary view point, losing sight of balanced reading of the second part as whole.

To start with, when we look back to the first part, we can recognize two problems raised there that should be handed over to the second part: (1) whether a Form has any contrary character to its own, and (2) what manner of description is proper to the participation in Forms.

The general characterization of the second part, I think, matches these two requirements. First of all, we cannot fail to notice many cases of fallacies and ambiguities in the course of the demonstrations. This feature should be understood as an exercise to become cautious to such type of Eleatic logic. Secondly, there we find a variety of uses of the term "participation" and several arguments on participation that are similar to some puzzles of the first part. This feature suggests a connection between the two parts concerning the problem(2). Thirdly, the most striking characteristic of the second part consists in the apparent form of antinomies, which I take does not compose real antinomies in fact but is a necessary framework for the search of the possibility of contrary characters of Forms in reply to the problem(1).

Now, in respect of the problem(2), some arguments in the second part seem to suggest the danger to regard the participation as immanence. The reasoning in such passages as 142b-145b, 150a-d, and 159c-160b shows that participation, taken in the immanence model, is liable to associate with physical images and to cause troubles upon the unity and the F-ness of Forms. I suspect that this tendencey to accompany the material sense is the reason why the terminology "partake"(metechein) itself is to be avoided thereafter as the description of the relation between Forms and particulars and the pattern-copy model takes its place. But as to the relatio between Forms themselves, almost free from any materialism, metechein survives with other terms such as "combining" and "cooperating". The whole/part dilemma under the immanence model, after all, was intended to cause an effect to wipe away any physical association from the concept of participation.

Then, in response to the problem(1), after the refinement of the concept of participation, the possibility of participation between Forms is examined. And it is shown that a Form may participate in the oposite Form in relatio to itself or in relation to other Forms, so as to possess the opposite character to its own. this perspective is totally new and is to be developed afterwards in the late dialogues such as the Sophist. In parallel with the One being implied to participate in the Many in relation to other Forms, it is suggested that a Form is one and still have relations with many particulars. Here we may detect the deeper relevance of the two problems.

The criticism in the first part of the Parmenides was a challenge to urge reconsideration on the nature of participation in Forms, and the second part indicates the direction to answer the challenge, and having assured its basis, undertakes preparatory research for the new development of the theory of Forms.

I offer an interpretation of the origin of how and why the phrase to ti hn einai (hereafter essence) is employed, by giving an account of the context in which essence is introduced and its linguistic structure.In "The Topics" Aristotle develops a method by means of which one can formally examine whether any proposed proposition is well said or not. This method of establishing and rejecting any proposition is developed as Topos theory. Topos is the locution of argument or the point at issue on the basis of which a questioner examines a proposition proposed by the counter part of dialogue i.e, an answerer.

Aristotle must have felt that Socratic dialectic is ad hoc as a method in the sense that his inquiry into definition by examining an other's thesis always comes to a dead-end. Aristotle criticizes Socratic dialogue as follows; "it was natural that Socrates should be seeking the essence,�E�Ethere was as yet none of the dialectical power which enables people even without the "what is it?" to speculate about contraries". (1078b23-26) I take it that Aristotle strengthens dialectic by creating a system of inquiry into "what it is" and to deal with contraries without directly asking the question "what is it?" . Dialectic argument must not raise the problem by asking the question"what is it?" , but raise it like "Whether is two-footed terrestrial animal the definition of man or not ?" so as to be answered by just saying "yes or no".(101b32,158a16)

The main ingredients of Topos theory are four predicables (definition, unique property, genus and accident) of which every proposition is composed. Predicables are the ways of predicate's belonging to its subject.While "definition is a phrase which signifies essence", "unique property is what does not refer essence for some subject but belongs only to it and counterpredicates with it." (101b38,102a18) In this way, any proposed proposition is classified into one of these four predicables. Since these four predicables are exclusive of one another, the reference of essence is fixed with respect to with other three predicables and introduced as a technical phrase in the introduction of predicables. One common feature among these is that "all these are definitory".(102b34) Even accident is alleged to be regarded as "definitory", because nothing prevents it from temporarily "becoming unique property", a kind of identity which is the necessary condition for definition.(102b21f,cf.102a7-10) I claim that these four predicables are proposed to deal with possible answers of the Socratic question "what is it ?".

An important characteristic in the Socratic practice of inquiring into definition is that he rejects the kind of answers which are given by examples and asks again the object itself. For example, Socrates asks "what do you think knowledge is?". Theaetetus answers by giving examples of knowledge such as geometry. Socrates responds to this by saying " We put the question, not because we wanted to count them, but because we wanted to know what, exactly, knowledge itself is." (Theae.,146c-e, cf.Euth., 6d,Laches,190e) This shows that the question "What is it?" in the Greek language can be answered by being given an example and also by an object itself . I claim that to ti hn einai is coined by Aristotle to convey the object itself so as to avoid confusions which took place between Socrates who has only one way of asking i.e. "ti esti;"and the answerer.

If this interpretation is right, the linguistic structure of essence will be made clear. I will just focus on the reason why the imperfect hn is employed. Goodwin writes in his Syntax of Greek Moods and Tenses that " The imperfect hn may express a fact which is just recognized as such by the speaker or writer, having previously been denied, overlooked, or not understood."(13) I call this use of hn"dialectical imperfect". This use accords very well with the dialectical situation where the question of the thing itself is asked afresh:When an example is given as an answer, the questioner, recognizing what is overlooked and misunderstood, asks again what the thing itself is.

Thus, Aristotle develops the method of dialectic as Topos theory on the basis of predicables. The normativeness of Topos theory is gained from the normativeness of the current language in the Academy. Division theory on the basis of inductive method is its main current language. Essence is signified by the definition composed of genus and its difference. Essence is properly logikws discussed. Logikws is the method of linguistic inquiry from the view point of "how to express" which can claim an assertion of being on the basis of necessity of argument. Essence is logikws characterized as "to be the very thing what is" which may be tautologous but claims a mode of being i.e. the object itself . (141a35,cf.73b8,1030a3) In this way, essence is introduced in the dialectical context to express what Socrates sought for in his inquiry into definition.

Most scholars accept Prop. 2. 19 as a innocent praise of the landscape of the caste country. In this paper I try to interpret the poem, discovering the implied meaning of this poem which Bodoh has already asserted but is universally neglected because of the implausibleness of his interpretation as a whole. The aim of this paper is also to provide solutions of difficult problems of text, including of interpolations.

1-2, the brief introduction of this poem, contain a slight inconsistency, because Propertius who cares about Cynthia�s infidelity and who opposed in fact to her plan, said that he is happy that his mistress is going to the country. There is also an ironical stress on devia (2) �out-of-the-way. In 3-6 he seems to praise the tranquil country, but these lines consist of what Cynthia enjoyed in Rome and will never find in the country: that is, lovers. In 7-8 appears the description of things which will be found in the country, but the stress lies on their loneliness. Clearly Propertius' hidden purpose in 3-8 is not the praises of the caste country. With his ironical description of her isolation in the country, he is trying to persuade her out of the plan, and in reality he is afraid of her infidelity. 9-14 describe the absence of the ludi and fana, where seduction is permitted, and the presence of the tedious farmworks which she will observe in the country. 13-14 suggest that Cynthia would only offer the incense to the uncultivated shrine, though she can do what she longs for in the temple in Rome. Even she would mimic the rustic dance with her dress hitched up, that would be effective means of seduction in Rome. He ended his "praise" with the wish, that only the country be guarded from the external men, which sounds very ironical, if her purpose is to have an affair out of his sight.

17-26, a description of his future hunting engagement, has interpolated lines 21-24. We must recognize awkwardness of thoughts there. The construction of the verses betrays the origin of them. 21 is partly identical with Grat. 515-16, and 22 is with Ov. Fast. 5. 176, and the latter explain the extremely rare example of comminus ire+acc. 23-24 are also doubtful because of the igitur (23) which can not bind the lines with 19-20. It binds also 23-24 with 21-22 awkwardly. audacia+inf. is a rare example, and audacia sit is here not a good substitution of more natural locution sat erit. Probably Ov. Met. 537-41 provided the interpolator the line of thoughts, where Venus who has fallen in love with Adonis begins the hunting, but she hunts safe animals and avoid the dangerous ones. In 24 we must read structo (Salmasius) and fallere (Watts). fallere�s parallel is found in Verg. G. 139-40, which are also likely to be an interpolated verses, because they are partly identical with 19 of our poem and partly with Verg. Ecl. 10. 57.

17-26 does not follow the usual way of propemptica, so says Cairns, because Propertius is glad at his hunting, although it is usual that the speaker talks about his loneliness far from human society after departure, and the hunting itself is a means to overcome the unhappy love. If we rightly discovered the duplicity above, we can understand that here he is superficially happy with his hunting, and this is a part of his persuasion, stressing the difference between her loneliness and his active hunting ironically. The topos prepares the turning in the last part of the poem, as Gallus in Verg. Ecl. 10 could not abandon the love.

27-28 is another interpolation. There is a slight inconsistency, because Propertius would follow her, if he were informed of her destination. 27 is very prosaic. conare �on the point of something� is found in proses. paucis ... Luciferis of 28 is extremely poetic. Lucifer is poetically �a certain day� and only Ovid employs it repeatedly (6 times) in Fasti. Lucifer as �a day� itself would be later than Ov. Fast. The interpolator has probably amalgamated it with the normal paucis ... diebus.

Without the interpolated lines we cannot retain the sic (O) of 29. With set (Munro) 29-30 can reassume the place of hunting of 25-26 naturally. mutem (31) is also untenable. I think that cantem (Ayrman) is the best reading, because his retirement from the hunting can be artfully expressed with the singing of her name. In 32 ne (recc.) instead of non (O) is not needed. 32 is a reason expressed through asyndeton, why the hunting cannot prevent him from singing her name, and this line betrays the real appearance of Propertius as a lover who fears her infidelity and concludes this poem.

By investigating the Greek word peiqwv and its cognates in the Republic and other dialogues, Popper believed that Plato is recommending rhetorical propaganda i.e. "talking over by foul means," together with violence, rather than "persuasion by fair means" as instruments of political technique (The Open Society and Its Enemies, 1945). But more important than this criticism is Morrow's claim that even without the foul means, persuasion, as is understood by Plato, involves ominous consequences ('Plato's Conception of Persuasion,' PR62, 1953). Morrow examined relevant passages, particularly in the Laws and concluded that Plato, who could not allow any soul to engage in "the free play of individual criticism" so that it could safely reach maturity, blinded himself to the deeper meaning of Socratic concern for the soul. Yet Socrates' dialectic, in which Morrow sees the spirit of genuine persuasion, does often break down without any agreement being reached when it is carried on with such difficult interlocutors as Callicles and Thrasymachus. Plato took seriously Socrates' failure to persuade them to care for virtue. My purpose is, by examining this line of Plato's thought, to show that his conception of persuasion has the significance drawn from his reflections on Socrates' dialectic.

It is not just that the failure of a reasonable conversation would be, as Irwin supposes�@('Coercion and Objectivity in Plato's Dialectic,' RIP40, 1986) , due to the insincerity or ill-temperedness that the interlocutor displays in refusing to continue cooperative discussion. We know that in the Gorgias Socrates argued that rhetoric alleged to be the art of persuasion was no art but a mere empirical knack, whereas in a later dialogue, the Phaedrus, Plato concedes the possibility of the kind of rhetoric that deserves a genuine craft and sets it forth as the art of leading souls. What this remarkable change actually means will become clear to us when we consider Socrates' method of cross-examination and refutation. His arguments always rest on, and his conclusion step by step logically follows from, premises to which he secures agreement from the interlocutor. But the problem lies in the way the agreed-upon premises are accepted, taken, and felt by each interlocutor with his own point of view. Socrates' understanding of some premises does not agree with, and is sometimes irreconcilably different from, the interlocutor's, so that it is hard for them to share the same conclusion. For no statement and no word is a logical formula or a logical symbol to be manipulated in a definite way. Such disagreement has its roots, Plato's theory of the tripartite soul reveals, in their essentially different conceptions of the good that cannot be easily reduced to each other. Now in the Apology Socrates says, "the unexamined life is not worth living" and invites everyone to join in this cooperative inquiry. But when Plato wrote the Repulic he was sceptical, if not about the truth of Socrates' memorable words, but about his philosophical activity characterized as inquiry into the truth by examinig himself and others, since everyone does not want to, and cannot, therefore, should not, examine himself or herself in the same way as Socrates does. Plato's realistic view is that no two people are born alike in the sense that there are innate differences which fit them for different occupations. So dialectic requires a natural gift for it.

People's different conceptions of the good, however, derive from their dominating desires or motives rather than from their natural gifts. Hence three basic types of men, the philosophic, the ambitious, and the lovers of gain. Plato, then, no longer expected that the difference of their value judgements can be reconciled by Socratic argument, since their experience, intelligence, and ability in discussion are decidedly different. Thus in the Phaedrus he attempts to rehabilitate rhetoric as the art of persuasion by basing it on psychology and dialectic. Plato was not blind to the deeper meaning of Socratic concern for the soul. Following Socrates, he certainly admits that genuine persuasion requires inquiry into the truth through the dialectic method, but unlike Socrates, he demands that a person who employs it should select a fitting soul, not every soul, to plant and sow in it his or her words founded on knowledge. Persuasion in other cases, therefore, must involve more or less lies as fictions or compulsion. Such conception of persuasion Plato applied to his own political philosophy. But the application would have been one of the inevitable theoretical results to Plato himself who experienced more than once political confusion and violence in the Cave. Apart from the question of whether it leads to liberation or enslavement of human beings, there would be no doubt about Plato's insight into the significance of his master's philosophical activity. For, as Cornford pointed out (�ePlato's Common Wealth,�fGR4,1935), he would have foreseen that Socrates' mission pointed to a subversion of all existing institutions, which necessitates certain fictitious devices.

In this essay I shall suggest that one of the implications of the active voice of peitho is to change the relationship between the parties concerned. Previous studies on peitho or persuasion which have paid no serious attention to the difference in implication between the active voice peitho and the middle voice peithomai seem to fail to appreciate complexities in the scenes where the persuasion is taking place.

The first and best example for this argument is the quarrel scene in Iliad I where the issue is whether Agamemnon should return Chryseis with some compensation or without. Through analysis of the usage of peitho and peithomai in the exchange of speeches, it becomes clear that the only instance of peitho, Il.1,132, which appears in the negative form and is spoken by Agamemnon to represent Achilleus' proposal of the return of Chryseis without compensation, contrasts with all the other instances of peithomai in the sense that the former implies a change in the former state of distribution of the spoils among the Achaians which defines their social relationships. As a result of the quarrel the Achaians keep their solidarity, but they lose Achilleus.

The underlying reason for this quarrel is that the amount of the spoils is limited. This is indirectly and partly supported by the fact that there is no instance of peitho between the Olympian deities in Homer who are not bound together by their direct and indirect reciprocal obligations and enjoy a high degree of independence because their resources are not limited.

Finally, if we try to identify the space of persuasion in Greek literature in the light of a change in relationship as in the case of peitho, we can find many interesting examples for the study of persuasion where the parties concerned are arguing on which of the parties starts to change the relationship such as in the diplomatic scene of Ar. Av.(esp.1596-1602) even if there is no reference to peitho.

That there were at least two modes of persuading, with words and with gifts, in classical Athens has widely been suggested since Buxton(1982). It should be noted, as Harvey has suggested(1985), that neither mode was necessarily considered more improper than the other: monetary persuasion, expressed as chremasi (dorois, dous chremata etc.) peithein, coexisted with verbal, for which logois peithein was the usual phrase.

In this paper the author's principal aim is to examine how and by which mode the Athenian citizens could be persuaded by their leaders under the regime of democracy, and to show what kind of social values underlay each of the two modes of persuading.

Persuasion with gifts including bribes, mainly used in more or less private spheres, was firmly rooted in the traditional and rather aristocratic values according to which reciprocity should play an essentioal role in forming social relationships, whereas persuasion with words- and rhetoric-, normally employed in public speeches before a large body of citizens, i. e., democratic ideology. The author attempts to argue that there can be observed a shift from the former toward the latter mode of persuasio9n in the course of the development of Athenian Democracy during the fifth century B.C., where three politicians are relevant: Miltiades, Cimon and Pericles.

Miltiades, the victorious general at Marathon, and his son Cimon both represented the traditional norms concerning reciprocity, exercising their leaderships characteristically by means of persuasion with gifts: Miltiades promised the Athenian citizens to 'make them rich if they followed him'(Hdt. VI 132), thus offering a gift in the future, when he persuaded them into setting out on an expedition against Paros in an assembly in 489; Cimon could likewise obtain much support from them and be elected general many times in the 470s nad 460s only by lavishly expending his funds in giving his private patronage to the lower-class people.

persuading the demos with gift, however, was crucially checked by Pericles, who was well conscious of the power of oratory and fully exploited it as a political weapon to persuade the demos; furthermore, he drove a wedge into the tradition of the political culture based on the reciprocity principle, himself adopting an extremely incorruptible life-style as a politician, for which he was praise by Thucydides as 'adorotatos'(2.65.8). It is also worth noting that there is much evidence that a system of accountability to detect and prosecute financial crimes including bribery was remarkably evolved under Pericles' leadership bu the third quater of the fifth century.

The development of Athenian Democracy, therefore, can be described in a way as a process of conflict between the two opposing attitudes toward reciprocity, old and new, which enentually caused and inevitable change from persuasion with gift to that with words as a means of moving the demos in the symbouleutic and jurisdictional bodies: persuasion by words and rhetoric, not by gift and wealth, was more suited to the democratic principle that all male citizens were eqally allowed to participate in the goverment regardless of the amount of their property.