The first plan is that which Dio follows, and his work would have been called by the Romans _annales_ rather than _historiae_. The method has its advantages, one of which is, or should be, that the reader knows just how far he has progressed; he can compare the relative significance of events happening at the same time in widely separated lands: he is, as it were, _living_ in the past, and receives from week to week or month to month reports of the world's doings in all quarters. On the other hand, this plan lacks dramatic force; there are sub-climaces and one grand climax: and the interest is apt to flag through being obliged to divide itself among many districts. The same results, both good and bad, are observable in Thukydides, whom Dio follows in constructive theory as well as style. It has already been said that our historian sacrifices sharpness of dates to the Onkos, depending, doubtless, on his chronological arrangements to make good the loss. Usually it does so, but occasionally confusion arises. Whether because he noticed this or not, he begins at the opening of the fifty-first book to be accurate in his dates, generally stating the exact day. Rarely, Dio lets his interest run away with him and mixes the two economies. If we read the pages closely, we find that by Dio's own statement his work falls properly into three parts. The first consists of the first fifty-one books, from the landing of AEneas to the establishment of the empire by Octavianus. Up to that time, Dio says (in LIII, 19), political action had been taken openly, after discussion in the senate and before the people. Everybody knew the facts, and in case any authors distorted them, the public records were open for any one to consult. After that time, however, the rulers commonly kept their acts and discussions secret; and their censored accounts, when made public, were naturally looked upon by the man in the street with doubt and suspicion. Hence, from this point, says the historian, a radical difference must inevitably be found in the character of his account. The second portion, opening with Book Fifty-two, ends at the death of Marcus Aurelius (180 B.C.). In LXXI, 36, 4 Dio admits that the old splendor ended with Marcus and was not renewed. His history, he says, makes here a sheer descent ([Greek: katapiptei]) from the golden to the iron age. It fades, as it were, into the light of common day in a double sense: for the events succeeding this reign Dio himself was able to observe as an intelligent eyewitness.