Journal articles on the topic 'Sacraments, early works to 1800'

This article discusses the reception of Kepler’s work in the earliest interpretations of the history of astronomy, which appeared in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The focus is not on the reception of Kepler’s work among astronomers themselves but instead on its significance for the history of science as seen by early historians of mathematics and astronomy. The first section discusses the evaluation of Kepler in the so-called “Prefatory Histories” of astronomy that appeared in various astronomical works during the seventeenth century. In these, Kepler was considered mainly to be the person who brought the work of Tycho Brahe to completion, rather than an original astronomer. The second section is devoted to the evaluation of Kepler in interpretations of the history of astronomy that appeared in the eighteenth century (often as part of the history of mathematics). In these works, Kepler is regarded as a genius who deserves tremendous credit for the advancement of the human spirit. Both sections also devote attention to Copernicus and Tycho Brahe because this facilitates the explanation of how Kepler’s contribution was judged. By studying the reception of Johannes Kepler’s work, we may gain greater insight into the transition from a cyclical perception of the history of science to the progressive model.

RÉSUMÉLe principal objectif de cet article est d’encourager une approche plus large, supraconfessionnelle, du mariage et de la famille à l’époque moderne. La conjugalité a été “désacralisée” par les réformateurs protestants du 16e siècle. Martin Luther, parmi d’autres, a refusé le statut de sacrement au mariage, tout en valorisant celui-ci comme une arme contre le péché. En réaction, le concile de Trente a réaffirmé avec force que le mariage est bien un des sept sacrements chrétiens. Mais, promouvant la supériorité du célibat, l’Église catholique n’a jamais beaucoup insisté sur les vertus de la vie et de la piété familiales avant le 19e siècle. En parallèle, les historiens décèlent des signes de “sacralisation” de la famille protestante à partir du 16e siècle. Leurs conclusions doivent être relativisées à la lumière de recherches plus récentes et plus critiques, centrées sur les rapports et les représentations de genre. Elles peuvent néanmoins inspirer une étude élargie et comparative, inexistante dans l’historiographie traditionnelle, des réalités et des perceptions de la famille chrétienne au-delà des frontières confessionnelles.MOTS-CLÉ: Époque Moderne, mariage, famille, protestantisme, Concile de TrenteABSTRACTThe main purpose of this paper is to encourage a broader supra-confessional approach to the history of marriage and the family in the Early Modern era. Wedlock was “desacralized” by the Protestant reformers of the 16th century. Martin Luther, among others, denied the sacramental status of marriage but valued it as a weapon against sin. In reaction, the Council of Trent reinforced marriage as one of the seven sacraments. But the Catholic Church, which promoted the superiority of celibacy, did little to defend the virtues of family life and piety before the 19th century. In parallel, historians have identified signs of a “sacralization” of the Protestant family since the 16th century. These findings must be relativized in the light of newer and more critical studies on gender relations and representations. But they can still inspire a broader comparative study, non-existent in traditional confessional historiography, of the realities and perceptions of the Christian family beyond denominational borders.KEY WORDS: Early Modern Christianity, marriage, family, Protestantism, Council of Trent BIBLIOGRAPHIEAdair, R., Courtship, Illegitimacy and Marriage in Early Modern England, Manchester, Manchester University Press, 1996.Beaulande-Barraud, V., “Sexualité, mariage et procréation. Discours et pratiques dans l’Église médiévale (XIIIe-XVe siècles)”, dans Vanderpelen-Diagre, C., & Sägesser, C., (coords.), La Sainte Famille. Sexualité, filiation et parentalité dans l’Église catholique, Problèmes d’Histoire des Religions, 24, Bruxelles, Éditions de l’Université de Bruxelles, 2017, pp. 19-29.Bels, P., Le mariage des protestants français jusqu’en 1685. Fondements doctrinaux et pratique juridique, Paris, Librairie générale de droit et de jurisprudence, 1968.Benedict, P., Christ’s Churches Purely Reformed. A Social History of Calvinism, New Haven/London, Yale University Press, 2002.Bernos, M., “Le concile de Trente et la sexualité. La doctrine et sa postérité”, dansBernos, M., (coord.), Sexualité et religions, Paris, Cerf, 1988, pp. 217-239.Bernos, M., Femmes et gens d’Église dans la France classique (XVIIe-XVIIIe siècle), Paris, Éditions du Cerf, Histoire religieuse de la France, 2003.Bernos, M., “L’Église et l’amour humain à l’époque moderne”, dans Bernos, M., Les sacrements dans la France des XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles. Pastorale et vécu des fidèles, Aix-en-Provence, Publications de l’Université de Provence, 2007, pp. 245-264.Bologne, J.-C., Histoire du mariage en Occident, Paris, Lattès/Hachette Littératures, 1995.Burghartz, S., Zeiten der Reinheit – Orte der Unzucht. Ehe und Sexualität in Basel während der Frühen Neuzeit, Paderborn, Schöningh, 1999.Calvin, J., Institution de la Religion chrétienne (1541), édition critique en deux vols., Millet, O., (ed.), Genève, Librairie Droz, 2008, vol. 2, pp. 1471-1479.Carillo, F., “Famille”, dans Gisel, P., (coord.), Encyclopédie du protestantisme, Paris, PUF/Quadrige, 2006, p. 489.Christin, O., & Krumenacker, Y., (coords.), Les protestants à l’époque moderne. Une approche anthropologique, Rennes, Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2017.Corbin, A., Courtine, J.-J., et Vigarello, G., (coords.), Histoire du corps, vol. 1: De la Renaissance aux Lumières, Paris, Éditions du Seuil, 2005.Corbin, A., Courtine, J.-J., et Vigarello, G., (coords.), Histoire des émotions, vol. 1: De l’Antiquité aux Lumières, Paris, Éditions du Seuil, 2016.Cristellon, C., “Mixed Marriages in Early Modern Europe“, in Seidel Menchi, S., (coord.), Marriage in Europe 1400-1800, Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 2016, chapter 10.Demos, J., A Little Commonwealth: Family Life in Plymouth Colony, New York, 1970.Flandrin, J.-L., Familles. Parenté, maison, sexualité dans l’ancienne société, Paris, Seuil, 1976/1984.Forclaz, B., “Le foyer de la discorde? Les mariages mixtes à Utrecht au XVIIe siècle”, Annales. Histoire, Sciences sociales (2008/5), pp. 1101-1123.Forster, M. R., Kaplan, B. J., (coords.), Piety and Family in Early Modern Europe. Essays in Honour of Steven Ozment, St. Andrews Studies in Reformation History, Aldershot, Ashgate, 2005.Forster, M. R., “Domestic Devotions and Family Piety in German Catholicism”, inForster, M. R., Kaplan, B. J., (coords.), Piety and Family in Early Modern Europe. Essays in Honour of Steven Ozment, St. Andrews Studies in Reformation History, Aldershot, Ashgate, 2005, pp. 97-114.François W., & Soen, V. (coords.), The Council of Trent: Reform and Controversy in Europe and Beyond, 1545-1700, Göttingen, Vandenhoek & Ruprecht, 2018.Gautier, S., “Mariages de pasteurs dans le Saint-Empire luthérien: de la question de l’union des corps à la formation d’un corps pastoral ‘exemplaire et plaisant à Dieu’”, dans Christin, O., & Krumenacker, Y., (coords.), Les protestants à l’époque moderne. Une approche anthropologique, Rennes, Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2017, pp. 505-517.Gautier, S., “Identité, éloge et image de soi dans les sermons funéraires des foyers pastoraux luthériens aux XVIe et XVIIe siècles”, Europa moderna. Revue d’histoire et d’iconologie, n. 3 (2012), pp. 54-71.Goody, J., The Development of the Family and Marriage in Europe, Cambridge, 1983; L’évolution de la famille et du mariage en Europe, Paris, Armand Colin, 1985/2012.Hacker, P., Faith in Luther. Martin Luther and the Origin of Anthropocentric Religion, Emmaus Academic, 2017.Harrington, J. F., Reordering Marriage and Society in Reformation Germany, Cambridge, 1995.Hendrix, S. H., & Karant-Nunn, S. C., (coords.), Masculinity in the Reformation Era, Kirksville, Truman State University Press, 2008.Hendrix, S. H., “Christianizing Domestic Relations: Women and Marriage in Johann Freder’s Dialogus dem Ehestand zu ehren”, Sixteenth Century Journal, 23 (1992), pp. 251-266.Ingram, M., Church Courts. Sex and Marriage in England 1570-1640, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1987.Jacobsen, G., “Women, Marriage and magisterial Reformation: the case of Malmø”, in Sessions, K. C., & Bebb, P. N., (coords.), Pietas et Societas: New Trends in Reformation Social History, Kirksville, Sixteenth Century Journal Press, 1985, pp. 57-78.Jedin, H., Crise et dénouement du concile de Trente, Paris, Desclée, 1965.Jelsma, A., “‘What Men and Women are meant for’: on marriage and family at the time of the Reformation”, in Jelsma, A., Frontiers of the Reformation. Dissidence and Orthodoxy in Sixteenth Century Europe, Ashgate, 1998, Routledge, 2016, EPUB, chapter 8.Karant-Nunn, S. C., “Une oeuvre de chair: l’acte sexuel en tant que liberté chrétienne dans la vie et la pensée de Martin Luther”, dans Christin, O., &Krumenacker, Y., (coords.), Les protestants à l’époque moderne. Une approche anthropologique, Rennes, Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2017, pp. 467-485.Karant-Nunn, S. C., The Reformation of Feeling: Shaping the Religious Emotions in Early Modern Germany, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2010.Karant-Nunn, S. C., “The emergence of the pastoral family in the German Reformation: the parsonage as a site of socio-religious change”, in Dixon, C. S., & Schorn-Schütte, L., (coords.), The Protestant Clergy of Early Modern Europe, Basingstoke, Palgrave/Macmillan, 2003, pp. 79-99.Karant-Nunn, S. C., “Reformation Society, Women and the Family”, in Pettegree, A., (coord.), The Reformation World, London/New York, Routledge, 2000, pp. 433-460.Karant-Nunn, S. C., “Marriage, Defenses of”, in Hillerbrand, H. J., (coord.), The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Reformation, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1996, vol. 2, p. 24.Kingdon, R., Adultery and Divorce in Calvin’s Geneva, Harvard University Press, 1995.Krumenacker, Y., “Protestantisme: le mariage n’est plus un sacrement”, dans Mariages, catalogue d’exposition, Archives municipales de Lyon, Lyon, Olivétan, 2017.Le concile de Trente, 2e partie (1551-1563), vol. XI de l’Histoire des conciles oecuméniques, Paris, (Éditions de l’Orante, 1981), Fayard, 2005, pp. 441-455.Les Decrets et Canons touchant le mariage, publiez en la huictiesme session du Concile de Trente, souz nostre sainct pere le Pape Pie quatriesme de ce nom, l’unziesme iour de novembre, 1563, Paris, 1564.Luther, M., “Sermon sur l’état conjugal”, dans OEuvres, I, Paris, Gallimard/La Pléiade, 1999, pp. 231-240.Luther, M., “Du mariage”, dans Prélude sur la captivité babylonienne de l’Église (1520), dans OEuvres, vol. I, édition publiée sous la direction de M. Lienhard et M. Arnold, Paris, Gallimard/La Pléiade, 1999, pp. 791-805.Luther, M., De la vie conjugale, dans OEuvres, I, Paris, Gallimard/La Pléiade, 1999, pp. 1147-1179.Mentzer, R., “La place et le rôle des femmes dans les Églises réformées”, Archives de sciences sociales des religions, 113 (2001), pp. 119-132.Morgan, E. S., The Puritan Family. Religion and Domestic Relations in Seventeenth-Century New England, (1944), New York, Harper, 1966.O’Reggio, T., “Martin Luther on Marriage and Family”, 2012, Faculty Publications, Paper 20, Andrews University, http://digitalcommons.andrews.edu/church-history-pubs/20. (consulté le 15 décembre 2018).Ozment, S., When Fathers Ruled. Family Life in Reformation Europe, Studies in Cultural History, Harvard University Press, 1983.Reynolds, P. L., How Marriage became One of the Sacrements. The Sacramental Theology of Marriage from the Medieval Origins to the Council of Trent, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2016/2018.Roper, L., Martin Luther. Renegade and Prophet, London, Vintage, 2016.Roper, L., The Holy Household: Women and Morals in Reformation Augsburg, Oxford Studies in Social History, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1989.Roper, L., “Going to Church and Street: Weddings in Reformation Augsburg”, Past & Present, 106 (1985), pp. 62-101.Safley, T. M., “Marriage”, in Hillerbrand, H. J., (coord.), The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Reformation, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1996, vol. 3, pp. 18-23.Safley, T. M., “Family”, in Hillerbrand, H. J., (coord.), The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Reformation, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1996, vol. 2, pp. 93-98.Safley, T. M., “Protestantism, divorce and the breaking of the modern family”, dans Sessions, K. C., & Bebb, P. N., (coords.), Pietas et Societas: New Trends inReformation Social History, Kirksville, Sixteenth Century Journal Press, 1985, pp. 35-56.Safley, T. M., Let No Man Put Asunder: The Control of Marriage in the German Southwest. A Comparative Study, 1550-1600, Kirksville, Sixteenth Century Journal Press, 1984.Seidel Menchi, S., (coord.), Marriage in Europe 1400-1800, Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 2016.Stone, L., The Family, Sex and Marriage in England, 1500-1800, New York, Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1977.Strauss, G., Luther’s House of Learning, Baltimore/London, 1978.Thomas, R., “Éduquer au mariage par l’image dans les Provinces-Unies du XVIIe siècle: les livres illustrés de Jacob Cats”, Les Cahiers du Larhra, dossier sur Images et Histoire, 2012, pp. 113-144.Vanderpelen-Diagre, C., & Sägesser, C., (coords.), La Sainte Famille. Sexualité, filiation et parentalité dans l’Église catholique, Problèmes d’Histoire des Religions, 24,Bruxelles, Éditions de l’Université de Bruxelles, 2017.Walch, A., La spiritualité conjugale dans le catholicisme français, XVIe-XXe siècle, Paris, Le Cerf, 2002.Watt, J. R., The Making of Modern Marriage: Matrimonial Control and the Rise of Sentiment in Neuchâtel, Ithaca, 1992.Weis, M., “La ‘Sainte Famille’ inexistante? Le mariage selon le concile de Trente (1563) et à l’époque des Réformes”, dans Vanderpelen-Diagre, C., & Sägesser, C., (coords.), La Sainte Famille. Sexualité, filiation et parentalité dans l’Église catholique, Problèmes d’Histoire des Religions, 24, Bruxelles, Éditions de l’Université deBruxelles, 2017, pp. 31-40.Westphal, S., Schmidt-Voges, I., & Baumann, A., (coords.), Venus und Vulcanus. Ehe und ihre Konflikte in der Frühen Neuzeit, München, Oldenbourg Verlag, 2011.Wiesner, M. E., Women and Gender in Early Modern Europe, Cambridge, 1993.Wiesner, M. E., “Studies of Women, the Family and Gender”, in Maltby, W. S., (coord.), Reformation Europe: A Guide to Research, Saint Louis, 1992, pp. 181-196.Wiesner-Hanks, M. E., “Women”, in Hillerbrand, H. J., (coord.), The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Reformation, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1996, vol. 4, pp. 290-298.Williams, G. H., The Radical Reformation, (1962), 3e ed., Truman State University Press, 2000, pp. 755-798Wunder, H., “He is the Sun. She is the Moon”: Women in Early Modern Germany, Harvard University Press, 1998.Yates, W., “The Protestant View of Marriage”, Journal of Ecumenical Studies, 22 (1985), pp. 41-54.

Ann Radcliffe’s novels were extremely popular in early nineteenth-century Russia. Publication of her work in Russian translation propelled the so-called gothic wave of 1800-10. Yet, many of the works Radcliffe was known for in Russia were not written by her; rather, they were works by others that were attributed to Radcliffe. This article traces the publication and translation histories of Radcliffiana on the Russian book market of 1800-20. Building on JoEllen DeLucia’s concept of a “corporate Radcliffe” in the anglophone world, this article proposes a Russian corporate Radcliffe. Identifying, classifying, and analysing the provenance of Russian corporate Radcliffe works reveals insight into the transnational circulation of texts and the role of copyright law within it, the nature of the early nineteenth-century Russian book market, the rise of popular reading and advertising in Russia, and the gendered nature of critical discourse at this time. The Russian corporate Radcliffe assures the legacy and influence of Radcliffe in later Russian literature and culture, although a Radcliffe that represents much more than just the English author. Exploring the Russian corporate Radcliffe expands our understanding of early nineteenth-century Russian literary history through specific case studies that demonstrate the significant role played by both women writers and translation, an aspect of this history that is often overlooked.

Benjamin Buchloh speaks with German artist, musician, and critic Jutta Koether about the many ways in which Koether blurs the lines between painting and performance in her practice, “reinstalling,” in her words, painting as a “platform, a potential, [and] a performance.” Koether discusses the formative role of New Wave and punk culture in her practice, particularly her time at Spex magazine; her studies in Cologne in the late 1970s and the anti-aesthetic impulse in painting from Picabia to Polke to Kippenberger; and her time in New York in the late 1980s and ′90s. Special attention is paid to her relationship to Poussin, both in her paintings The Seasons and The Sacraments and in her performance at Harvard in April 2013, as well as to early works like Inside Job (1992).

Swedish Short Stories in the Early 19th Century. Publication and Subgenres The present study of Swedish short stories published between the years 1810 and 1829 illustrates that authors representing the Romantic Movement made special efforts to put the short story on the market. At V. F. Palmblad’s publishing house, German contemporary short stories were translated and distributed, later followed by Swedish contributions to the genre, which appeared primarily in literary magazines. Only a small number of short stories were published over the course of these 19 years, and the means of publication varied. Out of 45 works found in the catalogues of the National Library of Sweden, 27 are published separately, while 14 are published in periodicals or newspapers and two in anthologies (one of which is a frame story and the other a modern collection). Authors connected to the Romantic school introduced two new varieties of short story: the exotic story and the fantastic story. The pre-existing subgenres included, for instance: adventures, satirical or comic stories, stories of family life, travel stories and historical short stories. Among these, the historical story was the only subgenre to be printed separately. Characteristic for the short story is its ability to be inserted into many different kinds of publications. Another result of the study is the discovery of the ease with which a short story may be transferred from one form of publication to another. For instance, the short story may originate as part of a novel, only to turn into a separate work in its own right. Alternatively, it may develop as a serial story in a newspaper and go on to be printed separately, and later appear in a publishing house series or in a volume of selected works. This adaptive, or transferable, quality should be included in the ongoing discussion pertaining to the definition of the short story.

AbstractThis paper investigates comparison as a fundamental practice within the early life sciences. Four episodes are selected that show how comparing species works in the early 19th century and how it builds bridges between scientific and literary culture: comparing living organisms in pre-Darwinian natural history (Lacépède, Treviranus), comparing species distribution in actualistic geology (Lyell), comparing organs in comparative anatomy (Müller), and – last but not least – comparing social classes in new literary genres such as sketch, ‘Paris physiology’, or travel feuilleton.

Marriage and the English Reformation. By Eric Josef Carlson. Oxford: Blackwell, 1994. Pp. ix+276. ISBN 0-631-16864-8. £45.00Gender, sex and subordination in England, 1550–1800. By Anthony Fletcher. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1995. Pp. xxii+442. ISBN 0-300-06531-0. £19.95.Domestic dangers: women, words, and sex in early modern London. By Laura Gowing. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996. Pp. 301. ISBN 0-19-820517-1. £35.00.The prospect before her: a history of women in western Europe, Volume one, 1500–1800. By Olwen Hufton. London: HarperCollins, 1995. Pp. xiv+654. ISBN 0-00255120-9. £25.00.Sex and subjection: attitudes to women in early modern society. By Margaret R. Sommerville. London: Edward Arnold, 1995. Pp. 287. ISBN 0-340-64574-1. £14.99.

The article discusses an important feature of Pavel Florensky’s biography and legacy that has not been properly covered by the existing research. Florensky is a well-known religious philosopher, the author of The Pillar and Ground of the Truth and lectures on the philosophy of cult and the philosophy of art. Russian theologists tend to perceive his ideas on a par with Sergei Bulgakov’s sophiology, in line with the modernizing trends of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, which are characterized positively or negatively, depending on the preferences of scholars. The article identifies and comments on some basic facts that testify to Florensky’s desire to preserve intact the dogmata, the canons and the sacraments of the Orthodox Church. It highlights Florensky’s ideas directed against the concept of progress in the religious consciousness of mankind and the associated theory of “dogmatic development”. The main attention is drawn to Florensky’s position and actions during the upheavals of 1905–1907 and after the February Revolution of 1917. His efforts to preserve the liturgical and monastic life in the Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius and other characteristic moments of his work under the Soviets are detailed. The main conclusion is that, although Florensky’s works contain ambiguous concepts and theologoumena, he should still be regarded as a conservative thinker who always had in mind the main goal for which the Orthodox Church existed.

After some decades of historical debate about the early modern Atlantic, it has become a truism that the Atlantic may better be understood as a world of connections rather than as a collection of isolated national sub-empires. Likewise, it is commonly accepted that the study of this interconnected Atlantic world should be interdisciplinary, going beyond traditional economic and political history to include the study of the circulation of people and cultures. This view was espoused and expanded upon in the issue of Itinerario on the nature of Atlantic history published thirteen years ago—the same issue in which Pieter Emmer and Wim Klooster famously asserted that there was no Dutch Atlantic empire. Since this controversial article appeared, there has been a resurgence of interest among scholars about the role of the Dutch in the Atlantic. With Atlantic history continuing to occupy a prominent place in Anglo-American university history departments, it seems high time to appraise the output of this resurgence of interest with an historiographical essay reviewing the major works and trends in the study of the Dutch in the Atlantic.

The article considers the achievements of modern Russian historiography in the field of compiling documents for demographic census registration by the parish Orthodox clergy in the synodic period of the Russian Orthodox Church. Among the problems that have been the most reflected, especially in the regional historiography of recent decades are the external features of confessional statements, changes in their forms during the XVIII–XIX centuries, the estates groups and strata represented in them, changes in the composition of parish families over several years, the gender and age composition of parishioners, migration processes within a one particular locality. The greatest value undoubtedly is the statistical data on the performance of Christian sacraments of confession and communion by parishioners. The works of researchers who analyze and use ecclesiastical signed documents, note a huge information potential of this type of historical sources. Ecclesiastical signed documents reveal not only the peculiarities in the social structure of an individual parish, diocese or eparchy as a whole. They are a fairly reliable indicator of the population’s introduction to the Orthodox faith and rites, especially beginning from the early XIX century, when the possibilities of data falsification by the parish clergy were minimized. This type of mass sources, such as signed documents, makes it possible to consider the history of everyday life, household and housing conditions, the distance of the village to the temple. The revealed shortcomings in ecclesiastical signed documents include the following: fixing the population only present in the parish, giving amorphous reasons for non-fulfillment of the sacraments such as «failure», «negligence», inaccurate determination of parishioners’ age in remote parish villages, real attitude of believers to the church and dogmas.

“From daddy’s obedient Henric”: Pedagogical perspectives on educational travel of the early 1800s. This article analyses educational travel in the early 1800s from the perspective of its educational heritage and praxis. The aim is to develop an understanding of the pedagogical significance of educational travel. The article makes clear how upbringing and education are represented in the framework of travel narratives in pre-industrial landscapes. The argument is based on the influence of the mercantile class on educational travel and the informal effect of these trips on changes in pedagogical thinking. The travel letters of Johan Henrik Munktell from 1828 to 1830 are used as primary sources. Using Paul Ricoeur’s memory-critical hermeneutics, travel narratives become significant sources for how education is arranged, and immanent pedagogy is a key term. The results demonstrate that the individualisation process works together with forms of crypto-learning, the core of the personal development vision, and society’s long-term memory.

bstract. By arguing that the connection between Schelling’s reception of Plato and Kant’s conception of genius is relevant for Schelling’s early development, this essay demonstrates the following: (1) that Schelling’s early Idealism brings to the general problem that plagues German Idealists, i.e., the search for an unconditioned principle that unites theoretical and practical reason, the solution that is genuinely his own, this original solution consisting in Schelling’s conception of “creative reason [schöpfersiche Vernunft]”; (2) that the theme of an absolutely free creative subjectivity is shared by many of Schelling’s early works and, hence, that the early development of his Idealism can be interpreted as a beginning of the philosophical system or as a “proto-system” of what was later to become his 1800 System; (3) that when compared to Kant’s notion of genius, Schelling’s “absolute I” should be considered a regress rather than a progress.

The article focuses on the study of the dogmatic works of Heinrich Klee (1800–1840) in relation to his criticism and reception of contemporary philosophical systems. The dogmatic theology of Heinrich Klee is a little-studied page in the history of Catholic religious thought in the first half of the 19th century, yet for his contemporaries Klee was a significant thinker, and his theology was the subject of active discussion. The works of Klee are known to have been criticized more than once in connection with the possible borrowing of philosophical ideas in his dogmatic theology. This criticism, however, was taken for granted, without being corroborated by any specific study of his texts – a fault the present article seeks to amend. The article attempts to fit the theology of Heinrich Klee into a philosophical context and analyze the philosophical principles in his theology. In the conclusions of the article, we highlight the tendencies and features of the use of philosophical concepts characteristic for Klee and emphasize the breadth and variety of philosophical trends he was debating. The article uses specific examples to demonstrate that, while openly criticizing such сelebrities as Hegel, Fichte, Schelling, Schleiermacher, Klee not only embraced their philosophical language but also borrowed their foundational ideas. In the article, it was demonstrated with specific examples that, openly criticizing such authors as Hegel, Fichte, Schelling, Schleiermacher, he perceives not only the philosophical language of these authors, but also borrows their system-forming ideas. At the same time, his theological thought moved within the strict framework of the Catholic concept of the objectivity of divine Revelation and the authority of the Church. The article sheds light not only on some of the philosophical and theological positions of a particular theologian of the early 19th century, but also on the discussion about the degree of philosophical foundation of theological constructions in the modern era as a whole.

In contrast to traditional historiography which, until recently, has generally explained the origin of probabilism based on works written in the European academic context, this article explores pragmatic works written mostly by —and for— experienced actors making practical use of their knowledge in fields such as trade, commerce and sacraments within the new global horizon of the Hispanic Monarchy. I propose a new, more global explanation of the progressive emergence of probabilism as a theological doctrine and method for the resolution of cases. Particular attention is granted to the use of probabilistic arguments in works of American missionary literature and writings of moral theology produced in the changing context of the central decades of the sixteenth century. This analysis allows us to understand their focus on evaluating probable alternatives in unfamiliar contexts and with unforeseen doubts that already existed in Vitoria’s ideas on economy and mission. As I show in this article, this emerging focus is a tendency that later Salamancan disciples such as the novohispano theologians Alonso de la Vera Cruz (1509-1584) and Tomás de Mercado (1523-1575) went on to radicalize by appealing to the need to follow merely probable opinions in a growing range of cases. Both of them adapted European moral and religious norms to a wide range of specifically early modern problems. The evaluation of the family or marriage customs of the indigenous American peoples and of frequent practices in the transatlantic economy such as money exchange and sale on credit were among the most discussed.

About seven years ago the journalItinerarioissued a special volume on theAncien Régimein India and Indonesia that carried the papers presented at the third Cambridge-Leiden-Delhi-Yogyakarta conference. The aim of the conference was a comparative one in which state-formation, trading net-works and socio-political aspects of Islam were the major topics. Thumbing through the pages of this issue (while preparing this essay) I had the impression that the results of the conference went beyond its initial comparative goals. Directly or indirectly, several papers stressed that during the early-modern phase India and Indonesia were still part of a cultural continuum that was only gradually broken up by the ongoing process of European expansion during the nineteenth century. It appeared that even after the earlier course of so-called ‘Indianisation’ – a designation that unjustly conveys an Indian ‘otherness’ – India and the Archipelago shared many characteristics, especially in terms of their political and religious orientation. More importantly, these shared traits were shaped by highly mobile groups of traders, pilgrims and courtiers who criss-crossed the Bay of Bengal, traversing both the lands above and below the winds.

The paper explores the historical correlation between the marginalization of C. P. E. Bach in his posthumous critical reception in the early and mid 19th century and the paradigm shift that occurred in the philosophical, aesthetic, and ideological conception of music in Europe around 1800, whereby music was reconceived as a radically abstract and disembodied art of expression, as opposed to the Enlightenment idea of music as an irreducibly sensuous, sonic art of representation. More precisely, the paper argues that the cause of C. P. E. Bach's marginalization in his posthumous critical reception should not be sought only in the shadow cast by his father, J. S. Bach, and the focus of 19th and 20th-century music historiography on periodization, itself centred around "great men", but also in the fundamental incompatibility between this new aesthetic and philosophical ideology of music from around 1800 and C. P. E. Bach's oeuvre, predicated as it was on an older aesthetic paradigm of music, with its reliance on musical performance, especially improvisation, itself undervalued in early and mid 19th-century music criticism for the same reasons. Other factors might also include C.P. E. Bach's use of the genre of fantasia, as well as the sheer stylistic idiosyncrasy of much of his music, especially the fantasias and other works he wrote für Kenner ("for connoisseurs"). This might also explain why his music was so quickly sidelined despite its pursuit of "free" expression, a defining ideal of early to mid 19th-century music aesthetics.

Beamish Murdoch (1800–76) was a young man when the first of the four volumes of hisEpitome of the Laws of Nova-Scotiarolled off Joseph Howe's press at Halifax in the spring of 1832. He was an old man when the first installment of his three-volumeHistory of Nova-Scotia, or Acadieappeared under James Barnes's imprint in the spring of 1865. These two works have received surprisingly disparate attention in the century since Murdoch's death. Today it is Murdoch the historian who is well known: No treatment of nineteenth-century Canadian historiography would omit reference to hisHistory. Murdoch's contributions to literary and political life, as editor of theAcadian Magazineand member of the Nova Scotia House of Assembly from 1826 to 1830, have also attracted attention. Murdoch the lawyer and legal treatise-writer, by contrast, is virtually unknown in both professional and legal academic circles, even in his home province. Until recently the Epitome has attracted virtually no scholarly attention of any kind.

This paper is the first to perform a systematic quantitative analysis of the arguments used to motivate selections in grammatical entries from normative works on Standard Dutch written between ca. 1550 and 1650. Thus, it aims to obtain insight into what language ideologies were characteristic of this early modern period, what these reveal about how Standard Dutch took shape in its initiating phase, and what the differences are between the codification of Dutch in the early modern period (16th/17th century) and the (post)modern period (20th/21st century; analysed in earlier studies). Although certain issues within the annotation method need to be addressed in future research, the results indicate that the following principles were particularly characteristic of the early modern period: for Dutch to be a good language in terms of its grammar, it ought to differentiate, display consistency, mirror Latin and Greek, and reflect the use of certain authorities. These linguistic principles form the roots of the part of the Dutch standard language ideology (SLI; which, as previous research has shown, came into existence in the decades around 1800) that connects ‘language’ with ‘norm’ and that bestows value on the language’s regularity. However, the additional connection to social identity, that forms a second and crucial part of the SLI, played no major part in the arguments used in this time period yet. Moreover, two important differences between the early modern period and the (post)modern period were found: (1) the latter period showed a higher degree of consensus and therefore of canonisation of the normative discourse than the former period; (2) the nature of the metalanguage used in normative publications was explicitly prescriptive in the later period but mostly ostensibly descriptive/implicitly prescriptive in the earlier period. This indicates that, in terms of the metalanguage used, the normative discourse in the formative period of Standard Dutch was in between description and prescription.

Around the middle of the Classical period, there was a paradigm shift concerning sectional repeats in sonata-form movements. Whereas previously the repeat of both halves (exposition and development/recapitulation) was virtually pro forma, by the late 1700s composers typically only indicated the first repeat. When composers began to indicate the second repeat infrequently, this decision took on greater musical significance.<br/> Whereas Haydn and Mozart indicated the second repeat frequently, even in their late works, Beethoven indicated this repeat rarely (nineteen times in works with opus numbers). This infrequency is noteworthy and prompts the question: Are there issues of formal balance or tonal/motivic connections that would be lost if performers omitted this repeat? I will examine these works in depth, noting similarities in formal balance, motivic content, tonal procedures, and large-scale design. Although many of these movements date from Beethoven's early period, he also indicated the second repeat six times after 1800, including the finale of his last quartet, Op. 135. We can conclude that repeating a sonata-form movement's second half remained an option for Beethoven late in life, even after he had ostensibly broken definitively with the formal conventions of his Classical predecessors.

Abstract In this paper, we are going to demonstrate that the writings of Russian travelers of the early 19th century laid the foundation of a discourse of Slavism. The travelers stopped perceiving the Balkans as part of the Near East and began considering them as ‘Ours’. This allowed the Russians to assert their identity within the boundaries of the European community while simultaneously separating themselves from the Roman-Germanic “West”. We examined four different types of descriptions of the Balkans by Russian travelers of the 1800–1830s. The authors’ approaches to these narratives were either orientalist or Slavic in nature. Works written in the framework of Orientalism are often characterized by the view of the Balkans as the land of the past, and travels perceived the Balkans as the antithesis of Russia, which they saw as being part of the West. Discourse of Slavism was fundamentally different from Orientalism. Firstly, it replaced the East-West binary relationship with a West-Russia-East triptych. Secondly, it sought to equate Russia and the Slavs. The travelers of the 3rd group were the first to discover a way to reconcile with the “backwards” past within the West-Russia-East triptych. Fourthly, Venelin verbalized a new paradigm in Russia’s description of the Balkans. He was the first to consider Russia as the center of the Slavic world, as opposed to the wild European periphery.

The article analyzes the Latin Sources of an admonition “Pripadkov kotorye byse pry slouzhbie bozhoi mogly prytrafiti roz’viezane” (Resolving difficult cases that might happen during worship). Published for the first time as a part of a larger Uniate manual for the priests in Sluzhebnik (Vilno 1617), the given admonition in an edited form became an organic component of the so-called “Izvestie uchitel’noe, kako dolzhenstvuet iereyu i diakonu sluzhenie w tserkvi svyatoi sovershati” (Instructive admonition how a priest and deacon should perform holy service in the church) in the Russian Rituals. As A.V. Petrovskij has already found out, a significant part of the cases analyzed in “Pripadki” that might happen during worship or Communion have parallels in apostolic, patristic, and conciliar decrees, in works of church literature, which have long existed in the Eastern Christian area. The author of the article argues, that the very effort of systematizing those difficult cases, also their analysis in the context of liturgical editions was borrowed by the compilers of “Pripadki” from the Latin tradition. And the main sources were the headings (rubricae) of the post-Tridentine “Missale Romanum” (Rome 1570). “Summa casuum conscientiae” by the Spanish Jesuit, cardinal Francisco de Toledo became another important source for the Uniate compilation: both for “Pripadki”, as for the whole Uniate manual for the priests Vilna 1617. Familiarity of the Uniate compilers with the work of the Spanish Jesuit is also confirmed by the content of another work, namely – an instruction for the priests how to perform the sacraments in “Trebnik” (Vilna 1617–1618). The given fact allows us to consider both admonitions as a part of a broader program for the elaboration of practical manuals for the Uniate clergy at the beginning of the 17th Century. The article also suggests who could be the author of these compilations.

Western historical scholarship has taught us much about Southeast Asia in the period between 1800 and 1940. This was a time when the insistent, intensifying and transforming influence of Dutch colonial society and its culture became widespread in Bali and more broadly in the archipelago. Much too has been written about the analytical framework of European histories of these times. In this essay I discuss Balinese paintings from this same period which shed light on how painters and their works spoke to their viewers both about how the Balinese knew, imagined, thought and felt about the world in which they lived and about the visual representation and communication of these ideas, imaginings and feelings through the medium of narrative paintings. In this paper I hope to draw attention to a number of historiographical issues concerning the reception of the ideas, imaginings and feelings conveyed in paintings. In particular I shall have some remarks to make about the role of philology in this regard.

Because both parts of Charles Brockden Brown's Arthur Mervyn; or, Memoirs of the Year 1793 (1799–1800) were clearly not composed under the same creative impetus as his other novels were (critics conjecture that the novel was written in three segments within a two-year span), the novel as a whole evinces the author's propensity to improvise more than any of his other works do (Ringe, 49). Early critics, notably R. W. B. Lewis (The American Adam) and David Lee Clark (Pioneer Voice in America), choose to ignore and/or gloss over the troublesome second part. Later criticism, however, deals with both part 1 and part 2. Kenneth Bernard, for one, concisely identifies one of the novel's themes as the correlation between innocence and experience, the first part dealing with Mervyn's innocence and inexperience, and the second dealing with his experience and his cognizance because of that experience (441).

A middle class ‘did not begin to discover itself (except perhaps in London) until the last three decades of the [eighteenth] century’. So wrote E. P. Thompson in the 1970s in a now-famous analysis which divided English society into patricians and plebeians, and which, along with J. H. Hexter's ‘The Myth of the Middle Class in Tudor England’, largely eliminated ‘middle class’ from the vocabulary of early modern English historians. During the past decade, however, there has been renewed focus on the middle ranks in early modern England, now commonly labelled ‘the middling sort’, and such studies explicitly or implicitly call into question Thompson's polarized portrayal of English society. A number of earlier works analyzed the middling in the countryside, particularly in the period 1540 to 1640; but recent discussions focus largely on townsmen, and most are concerned with a later period, the second half of the seventeenth and the eighteenth centuries. Even in a volume such asThe Middling Sort of People: Culture, Society and Politics in England 1550–1800, a collection of essays presenting recent scholarship on the subject, the rural middling sort receive very little attention (a fact acknowledged by one of the editors). This essay will draw upon detailed evidence from several parishes to consider characteristics of the middling in the countryside during the later seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries.

This article represents the first stage of a research project dedicated to analyzing the structuration of Russian society throughout the period since the mid 1800’s and until this day. The timeline for part one includes the period up until 1917, while part two will be dedicated to Soviet and post-Soviet times. This article utilizes the methodology of A. Giddens, who suggested using the term “structuration” in order to analyze social relationships in space and time. This methodology implies examining structuration processes through the lens of those studies which were conducted during periods when radical shifts were occurring within the structure of Russian society. The main event which defined the direction for social change turned out to be the emancipation of the serfs in the Russian Empire, which lead to shifts in the population’s structure: accelerated development of a working class, social transformations in the village, and the advancement of internal migration in Russia. The article shows that in Russia these processes were accompanied by science, which included official agencies conducting population censuses, studying the composition and working conditions at factories and plants (this function was carried out by plant and manufactory inspectorates), as well as studies conducted by scientists and practitioners. The works of Nikolai Kalachov, N. Flerovsky, Evgeny Pogozhev, Mykhailo Tuhan-Baranovskyi and others aided in developing detailed social characteristics of workers and their position in the structure of society and at work. Studying the village (and consequently the largest social class – the peasants) was the prerogative of provincial councils. Comprehensive monographic studies were conducted by Piotr Semionov, Vassily Pokrovsky, Vassily Orlov, Piotr Chervinsky, Fedor Shcherbina, as well as other researchers. The article shows that the population’s structuration at the turn of the century in regards to the territorial aspect depended on resettlement and internal migration to a significant degree. Remarkable studies of this process were conducted by Denis Davydov, Evgeny Anuchin, Isaac Hourwich, Ivan Yamzin and other Russian scientists. Aside from scientists, practitioners also took part in these studies. The Russian intelligentsia actively partook in field research. The educated class’ efforts made it possible to attain valuable data on society’s structure, on the state of social relationships in Russia, migration processes, and the social characteristics of society’s key structural elements – peasants and workers.

The article presents the forgotten book “The Model of Children, or the Life of the Little Count Platon Zubov” (1801), written in French by A. S. Vsevolozhskaya and translated into Russian by S. Sokovnin. The son of General Valerian Zubov (a favorite of Catherine II) died in 1800 at the age of 4 and a half years and is presented in the book as an ideal child. The text is examined in the context of literature about children of the 18th — early 19th centuries. We can see here the influence of A.-F.-J. Freville’s “Life of the famouses children”. Compared with most of the texts, “Model of Children”, although it contains canonical features of hagiographic and didactic works, demonstrates an attempt to introduce elements of psychologism and reality, to capture a specific image of a little aristocrat of his time. It combines elements of a sensitive nature as a result of female upbringing and the traits inherited from little count’s father as a courtesan with class prejudices. This image anticipates the characters of Nokolai Karamzin’s later prose.

The article presents the forgotten book “The Model of Children, or the Life of the Little Count Platon Zubov” (1801), written in French by A. S. Vsevolozhskaya and translated into Russian by S. Sokovnin. The son of General Valerian Zubov (a favorite of Catherine II) died in 1800 at the age of 4 and a half years and is presented in the book as an ideal child. The text is examined in the context of literature about children of the 18th — early 19th centuries. We can see here the influence of A.-F.-J. Freville’s “Life of the famouses children”. Compared with most of the texts, “Model of Children”, although it contains canonical features of hagiographic and didactic works, demonstrates an attempt to introduce elements of psychologism and reality, to capture a specific image of a little aristocrat of his time. It combines elements of a sensitive nature as a result of female upbringing and the traits inherited from little count’s father as a courtesan with class prejudices. This image anticipates the characters of Nokolai Karamzin’s later prose.

The last decade of the eighteenth century was a transitional period in the political as well as the cultural history of Europe. Aesthetic values underwent far-reaching changes everywhere: the field of keyboard music and keyboard performance was no exception. In Vienna, the once legendary performances of W.A. Mozart already seemed out of date for some musicians before the turn of the century. ‘Pearly’ playing gave way to singing legato style, and the occasional use of damper pedals. Of course, the appearance of the young Beethoven made a profound effect on the Viennese piano scene. He competed with four pianists on the keyboard (Gelinek, Wölfl, Steibelt, Vogler) in the course of his first ten years in Vienna: through the contemporary descriptions of these events we can learn a great deal about the current styles of piano playing. The keyboard works of the pianist-composers of the time varied in their style and level of craftsmanship. Textures became denser, and more demanding to play. The general style approached the tone of the early nineteenth century, Schubert’s in particular. Of the younger generation, Hummel was the first who performed on Viennese stages before the end of the century. After 1800, the significant Viennese debut of three young artists, Kalkbrenner, Czerny and Moscheles, initiated a new kind of bravura in pianism, which prepared the era of the instrumental virtuosity of the nineteenth century.

This article reassesses the “mechanical” style of playing featured in Carl Czerny's pedagogical works and keyboard arrangements—specifically, the Complete Theoretical and Practical Piano Forte School, op. 500 (1839), its supplementary text Letters to a Young Lady (ca. 1840), and the four-hand transcription of Beethoven's Symphony no. 9 in D Minor, op. 125 (the “Choral”). The first part of the article situates opus 500 within the larger pedagogical milieu of Biedermeier music culture and Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi's progressivist educational reforms, exploring the way it tasked predominantly women amateurs with assembling basic finger sensations in an exercise-by-exercise—“progressive”—fashion. I propose that this cumulative logic reflects an early-century epistemic norm—what Friedrich Kittler dubs a “mechanical program” of assembly and augmentation. The second part considers Czerny's transcription of the finale of Beethoven's Ninth from the perspective of ludo-musicology and cultural techniques media analysis, outlining the reductive and replicative—“reproductive”—techniques by which Czerny accommodated his former teacher's work to the hands he shaped in the private sphere. I argue that his pedagogies and transcriptions were recursively interrelated. Czerny was simultaneously a mechanic of the hand pedagogically and a mechanical reproducer of symphonies transcriptively, creating a multivalent corpus that forces us to rethink the media-theoretical concept of “mechanical reproduction” vis-à-vis “Discourse Network 1800.”

The article presents an analysis of scientific literature devoted to the study of the linguistic local history direction of language learning. The aim of the work is to describe the origins of Russian linguistic local history, regional onomastics based on the use of textological analysis, descriptive method, elements of comparative and comparative-historical methods. The material of the research is presented by works that have a linguistic local history character, starting from the 30s of 18th century. Based on the analysis of scientific works of the 18th and early 19th centuries, including the linguistic local history component, the author comes to the following conclusions. Since the first third of the 18th century in Russia, there have been some fragmentary attempts at linguistic local lore commenting when describing settlements by historians, geographers, physicians, and biologists who participated in research expeditions across Russia. Of particular importance in this respect was the historical and regional studies activities of V.N. Tatishchev, who compiled detailed questions for the study of settlements in Russia, prepared the first part of the “Lexicon of Russian historical, geographical, political and civil”. The material of the research shows that the origins of scientific linguistic regional studies in Russia are associated with the activities of V.K. Trediakovsky and M.V. Lomonosov. M.V. Lomonosov consistently introduced the linguistic local history component into the research methodology, which was applied in practice in the compilation of the “Russian grammar”, in the organization of centralized work on the historical and geographical study of Russian settlements, in the development of the foundations of teaching Russian students in their native language. M.V. Lomonosov is the founder of the linguistic local history direction in Russian linguistics. The beginning of scientific regional onomastic research is associated with the activities of E.A. Bolkhovitinov, who for the first time in 1800 gave a detailed historical and linguistic description of the toponymy and microtoponymy of the Voronezh Territory.

This essay examines the Japanese reception of the Korean painter Yi Am 李巌(b. 1499), and by extension considers the relationship between ink painting technique and pictorial meaning. In particular, it examines how Yi Am’s unique approach to the painting of puppies with blended washes of ink opened up new interpretive possibilities among Japanese viewers. Although Yi Am’s puppy paintings appear to have been circulating in Japan as early as the seventeenth century, they were misattributed to Chinese painters such as Mao Yi, and Yi Am’s seal was mistaken as belonging to a Japanese monk-painter of the Muromachi period. The monochrome ink puppy paintings of the Kyoto artist Tawaraya Sōtatsu 俵屋宗達(ca. 1600-1640), however, depict the bodies of their canine protagonists with the same wash-based approach found in Yi Am’s works, and appear to have been catalyzed in some way by an encounter with the Korean artist’s paintings. In the case of Sōtatsu, this approach eventually came to be known as tarashikomi, a signature technique of the Rinpa School, and therefore it is no exaggeration to state that Yi Am’s works played a role in inspiring one of the most recognizable techniques of early modern Japanese painting. Although dog and puppy paintings are traditionally linked to auspicious meanings, Sōtatsu’s puppy paintings appear to have been associated within a Zen Buddhist themes, in particular the koan “A Dog Has No Buddha-Nature.” This Zen Buddhist framework of meaning can be gleaned from inscriptions on his paintings by Zen monks such as Isshi Bunshu 一絲文守(1608-1646) and Tangai Musen 丹崖無染(1693-1763). I would propose that the particular wash-based approach of Yi Am and Sōtatsu to this subject was particularly significant in generating this association. The eighteenth-century painter-poet Yosa Buson 与謝蕪村(1716-1784) also based his puppy paintings upon models derived from Yi Am. In the case of Buson, however, the cultural meaning of these works can be gleaned from his haikai poetry, in particular a poem accompanying a Maruyama Okyo 円山応挙(1733-1795) painting of a puppy that associates its inky body with the interiority of a poetic subject. The final case study examined in this essay is Itō Jakuchū 伊藤若冲(1716-1800). Jakuchū left a number of puppy paintings that embody Zen Buddhist themes in highly sophisticated ways. Because he was close to Tangai Musen, it is likely that he was aware of Sōtatsu’s puppy paintings, and indirectly familiar with those of Yi Am. Thus the case could be made that Yi Am’s wash-based technique opened up a new horizon of interpretive possibility among Japanese painters extending from Sōtatsu to Jakuchū.

Solomon Maimon (1753–1800), one of the most significant Jewish philosophers of modern times, in his writings tried to critically approach the tradition of Jewish thought and compare its teachings with the views of European philosophers. In re­cent decades, he and his views have attracted close attention of historians of phi­losophy. Recently, seven volumes of his works were published in Russia, translated from German and Hebrew. One of his most famous books is his Lebensgeschichte (Autobiography), an autobiography written by him in the 1790s and revealing both the stages of his life path and spiritual development, as well as his understanding of various problems of philosophy, religion, ethics and mysticism. This book has en­joyed a reputation as a classic in the genre of “intellectual biography” for two cen­turies. The article discusses the main features of this book, as well as its perception in the 19th – early 20th centuries. The stereotypical image of Maimon as a free­thinker Jew, a fighter against religious superstitions and social inequality, almost overshadowed his significance as an original philosopher, whose views were ap­preciated by I. Kant and J.G. Fichte. This attitude towards Maimon was fully re­flected in the translations of his Autobiography. Our article pays special attention to the Russian translations of this book. We are publishing for the first time docu­ments related to an attempt to publish in the 1930s a complete commented transla­tion of Maimon’s book. Famous Soviet philosophers and translators participated in the preparation of this translation (Boris G. Stolpner, Isaak M. Alter, and others), but the book was never published for political reasons.

ResuméBegreberne pædagogik, opdragelse, frihed, demokrati, kausalitet og totaliserende elementer analyseres ud fra sprogteorien i filosofisk hermeneutik (Gadamer). I Oplysningstiden ser vi en konfrontation mellem pædagogik (Pädagogik), som føres frem af de nye socialvidenskaber (Sozialwissenschaft, Staats-; Achenwall, Schlözer), og opdragelse (Erziehung), som føres frem i filosofi (Kant). Oplysningstidens begreb om kausalitet i pædagogik (Schlözer; det, der virker) antages at være forbundet med vore dages totaliserende elementer (Rousseau, Arendt). Frihedens betydning i Oplysningstidens opdragelsesfilosofi (Kant; det, der sker) svækkes i 1800-tallet. Derimod er frihed et stærkt begreb i den politiske proces omkring såvel det repræsentative demokrati (Nevers) som ved opbygningen af danske institutioner for børn og for uddannelse af pædagoger. Gennem den lange politiske kamp for frihed blev samfundet også reformeret med børnehaver og fritidshjem, der blev skabt i tæt sammenhæng med uddannelse af pædagoger; tilsammen kaldet den reformpædagogiske bevægelse. I dag ser vi totaliserende elementer vinde frem og true børns og voksnes myndighed og frihed. AbstractThe concepts of pedagogy, upbringing, freedom, democracy, causality and totalizing elements are analysed through the theory of language in philosophical hermeneutics (Gadamer). During The Enlightenment we find a confrontation between pedagogy (Pädagogik) promoted by the new social sciences (Sozialwissenschaft, Staats-) and upbringing (Erziehung) promoted by philosophy. Enlightenments conception of causality in pedagogy (Schlözer, what works) is assumed to have connection with todays totalizing elements (Arendt). The position of freedom in the Enlightenment philosophy of upbringing (Kant, what happens) is weakend during the 19th century. Nevertheless freedom is a strong political concept connected with representative democracy (Nevers) and the field of Danish early childhood education. During the long political fight for freedom Kindergartens were established together with education of pedagogues, and the reform-pedagogical movement were promoted. Today we are in a transition where totalizing elements gain strength and threatens genuine independency in the life of children and adults.

This paper examines about Romanticism or Romantic era, themes and some famous writers, poets and poems of romantic era. Romanticism is one of the repetitive topics that are connected to either creative mind, vision, motivation, instinct, or independence. The subject frequently condemns the past, worries upon reasonableness, disconnection of the essayist and pays tribute to nature. Gone before by Enlightenment, Romanticism brought crisp verse as well as extraordinary books in English Literature. Begun from England and spread all through Europe including the United States, the Romantic development incorporates well known journalists, for example, William Wordsworth, Coleridge, Keats, Lord Byron, Shelley, Chatterton, and Hawthorne. ‘Romantic’ has been adjusted from the French word romaunt that implies a story of Chivalry. After two German scholars Schlegel siblings utilized this word for verse, it changed into a development like an epidemic and spread all through Europe. Romanticism in English writing started during the 1790s with the distribution of the Lyrical Ballads of William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Wordsworth's "Preface" to the subsequent version (1800) of Lyrical Ballads, in which he portrayed verse as the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings", turned into the statement of the English Romantic development in verse. The first phase of the Romantic movement in Germany was set apart by advancements in both substance and artistic style and by a distraction with the mysterious, the intuitive and the heavenly. An abundance of abilities, including Friedrich Hölderlin, the early Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Jean Paul, Novalis, Ludwig Tieck, A.W. what's more, Friedrich Schlegel, Wilhelm Heinrich Wackenroder, and Friedrich Schelling, have a place with this first phase. The second phase of Romanticism, involving the period from around 1805 to the 1830s, was set apart by a reviving of social patriotism and another regard for national roots, as bore witness to by the accumulation and impersonation of local old stories, people songs and verse, society move and music, and even recently disregarded medieval and Renaissance works. The resuscitated recorded appreciation was converted into creative composition by Sir Walter Scott, who is frequently considered to have imagined the verifiable novel. At about this equivalent time English Romantic verse had arrived at its peak in progress of John Keats, Lord Byron, and Percy Bysshe Shelley.

En las últimas décadas las referencias al Análisis de Redes han ganado protagonismo entre los historiadores. Hemos asistido a una auténtica proliferación de artículos, monográficos y proyectos de investigación en los que el estudio de las interconexiones en sociedades del pasado ocupa un papel central. Desafortunadamente, en algunos de estos trabajos la conceptualización y la cuantificación han estado ausentes. El presente artículo pretende explorar el potencial del Análisis de Redes como herramienta metodológica aplicable a la disciplina histórica en sus distintos campos de investigación. Pretendemos hacer una apuesta clara por la integración de esta herramienta, superando la retórica de las palabras, pero también de la imagen. Para ello, incorporamos una panorámica de las principales aportaciones al Análisis de Redes en la historiografía. Además, analizamos sus elementos fundamentales y describimos su uso con ejemplos de publicaciones recientes, explorando los retos que se plantean de cara al futuro. Palabras Claves: Análisis de Redes, Metodología, Métricas, VisualizaciónTopónimos: Latinoamérica, EuropaPeriodo: Neolítico-Siglo XX ABSTRACTDuring recent decades, historians have referred with increasing frequency to network analysis. We have witnessed a veritable proliferation of papers, monographs and research projects in which the study of interconnections among individuals from past societies plays a central role. Unfortunately, conceptualization and quantifications have been absent from most of these works. This paper aims to explore the potential of network analysis as a methodological tool applied to history. The objective is to integrate this tool into the historian’s work, transcending the rhetoric of words and images. 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The History of Revisions of Prayers in Johann Arndt’s ROJAUS DARǮELIS (1807 – 1817) S u m m a r y Johann Arndt (1555–1621), the German theologian and next-generation religious reformer is the author of the uniquely successful prayer book titled Paradiesgärtlein (Magdeburg,1612). The first known Lithuanian translation of Arndt’s Paradiesgärtlein appeared in early 19th century in Prussian Lithuanian. It was published in 1807 by the widow of Gottlieb Lebrecht Hartung, a printer from Königsberg. This article aims to reveal the history of revisions of six prayers from Johann Arndt’s Rojaus Darelis (The Garden of Paradise) that were first published in Königsberg in 1807. The goal is to show the revision trends and content transformations Arndt’s texts underwent in the second, 1816 Königsberg edition of Rojaus Darǯelis, the 1816 Tilsit edition, and the unofficial 1817 conventiclers’ (Lith. surinkimininkai) hymnal Wiſſokies Naujes Gieſmes arba Ewangelißki Pſalmai (Tilsit). The analysis of the prayers has shown that the language of the hymnal Rojaus Darelis (Königsberg, 1807) is rather grounded on the standard of the official ecclesiastical and philological papers of Prussian Lithuania: the prevalent southern subdialect of the Western Aukštaitians of Prussian Lithuania. It is dominated by rather stable normative elements of morphology and diacritic orthography, as evidenced in the philological written works of the period: the grammars of the Lithuanian language by Gottfried Ostermeyer (1791) and Christian Gottlieb Mielcke (1800). The only identifiable non-grammatical orthography trait is the ending -ęs that sometimes appears in the acc. sg. endings of feminine adjectives, pronouns, and numerals. A comparison of the prayers from Rojaus Darǯelis that were published in Königsberg in 1807 and in 1816 has revealed that the texts had remained stable and free from major or significant revisions content-wise. This edition is even more consistent in its placement of the stress-marks than the one before. Efforts are made to keep up with the standard trend of spelling and language that prevailed in the official printed texts (grammars) of Prussian Lithuanian. It has been established that the making of the new edition of Rojaus Darelis published by the printing house of Johann Heinrich Post in Tilsit in 1816 relied on the Königsberg edition that had been released earlier that year. This is evidence in the morphological and lexical revisions that had been carried over. Structurally, the prayers in the 1816 Tilsit edition had remained intact. There were a little bit more orthography and syntactic differences compared to the 1816 Königsberg edition. It is probable that the Tilsit edition had had an effect on the preparation of Arndt’s prayers that were later featured in Wiſſokies Naujes Gieſmes arba Ewangelißki Pſalmai, a hymnal by Kristijonas Endrikis Mertikaitis (Tilsit, 1817). Nonetheless, it is the 1816 Königsberg edition (or the prior 1807 edition) that is to be considered the original source of the prayers published in Mertikaitis’s hymnal. It was in Wiſſokies Naujes Gieſmes arba Ewangelißki Pſalmai by Kristijonas Endrikis Mertikaitis (Tilsit, 1817) that Arndt’s prayers underwent the greatest extent of transformation. Contrary to the Königsberg or Tilsit editions mentioned in this article, this edition is teeming with differences on all sorts of levels: orthography, phonetics, morphology, lexis, word formation, and syntax. Analysis of the relationship between the sources shows that Mertikaitis’s hymnal did not try to follow the widely recognised grammatical usage. This unconventional approach most probably was the product of Mertikaitis’s savvy of the period language and lack of literacy. It is worth mentioning that Mertikaitis was not a man of academic or spiritual elite, but rather a vibrant preacher of the home-prayer service and schoolteacher who tended to pastoral care, matters of saving his own soul and those of the others as well as eternal life, someone who did not see making language more grammatically correct and standard-compliant as an important part of his earthly concern.

Fra Hamann til Fasc. 209.10. Om Grundtvigs forhold til Johann Georg Hamann og dennes samtidige[From Hamann to Fascicle 209.10. On Grundtvig's relation to Johann Georg Hamann and his contemporaries]By Bent ChristensenThe German critic and Enlightenment philosopher Johann Georg Hamann (1730-88) can be seen as a German forerunner of Grundtvig who according to a few places in his Verdenskrøniken (World Chronicle), 1817, has known about his writings and perhaps felt a spiritual kinship to him. By all accounts, the only other mention of him at all by Grundtvig occurs in a brief and somewhat enigmatic manuscript entitled “Synchronismer” (synchronisms) (The Grundtvig Archive, Fascicle 209 nr 10). It lists names of 24 German authors supplied with dates marking periods in their careers between the years 1741 and 1781 and has been regarded as a preliminary study for the World Chronicle 1817. But it can also be seen as a view of these authors from a specific “synchronistic” angle, resulting in a particular profile of these 40 years. The list also reflects Grundtvig’s detailed knowledge of German literary history.After a presentation of Hamann, Grundtvig’s evaluation of him in the World Chronicle of 1817 is quoted and commented upon, followed by a an examination of the manuscript list author by author, inclusive of references to treatments in the World Chronicle.The list begins with “Rabener 1741-57” and finishes with “Bürger 1769- 78”; the latest year brought up, however, is “1781” (under the names of Kant and Hamann). In his World Chronicle, Grundtvig states that the period he wants to depict, covers the reign of the Prussian king Frederick the Great (1740-86). The list corresponds almost exactly to this ambition. Hamann’s first year, 1759, is the year in which Sokratische Denkwürdigkeiten appeared, his first work addressing a general public. Hamann’s last year, 1781, indicates that he at that time started to write a critical review of Kant’s Kritik der reinen Vernunft, having read the proofs of it, as a personal friend of the philosopher, before its publication that same year. At first, however, Hamann did not print his text but only communicated it to Herder in a personal letter. The Metakritik über den Purismum der Vernunft was finished in 1784 but not published until 1800. When Kant in his work asks for a foundation of cognition prior to and independent of experience, Hamann accuses him of aiming at constituting a new kind of metaphysics. Two later works published by Hamann (1784 and 1786) are of a retrospective and summary nature.Concerning the other authors listed, the “first year” in most cases presents the very first step in their literary careers, and the “last year” marks the ending of their initial period. This applies, for example, to Rabener’s “last year”, 1757, when his satires had started already to appear in book form. In Lessing’s case, 1761 is the year in which he accepted a position as secretary for the governor of Breslau. Wieland was appointed town clerk in Biberach in 1760, but in the World Chronicle Grundtvig emphasizes the importance of his Shakespeare translations which did not begin to appear until 1762, though it is likely that Wieland had been encouraged to take up this project as early as 1759. Herder’s “last year” is 1767, the date of publication featured on the title page of Fragmente über die neuere deutsche Literatur—a date often considered to be the prime year of the “Sturm und Drang” (“Storm and Stress”) movement. Goethe’s “last year” is 1774 due to the publication of his best-seller novel Die Leiden des jungen Werthers.In several cases the often paired dates of Grundtvig’s list differ from those found in ordinary histories of literature as well as in the World Chronicle of 1817. A closer study of them—and a study of Grundtvig as compared to Hamann—might cause important contributions to Grundtvig research and to the study of German intellectual and literary history.

Abstract Dissecting the genetics of classical Hodgkin lymphoma (cHL), a common lymphoma derived from germinal center B (GCB) cells, has remained a difficult task compared to other lymphomas, due to the rarity (usually <5%) of tumor cells (the Hodgkin and Reed/Sternberg - HRS - cells) in the lymph node. Thus, we microdissected 1200-1800 single HRS cells per case from frozen biopsies of 36 patients, along with a similar number of adjacent non-neoplastic cells, and performed in duplicate whole-genome DNA amplification (WGA) followed by independent whole-exome sequencing, thus allowing to control for possible biases introduced by the WGA step. The putative somatic protein-changing mutations identified in a major tumor clone (i.e., ≥20% variant allele frequency) were then validated by targeted deeper sequencing of the same WGA DNA, as well as by ultra-deep sequencing and digital PCR of unamplified whole-biopsy DNA. We found highly recurrent (11/36 patients; 31%), heterozygous, STAT6 missense mutations in exons encoding for the DNA binding domain, identical to the activating STAT6 variants known in primary mediastinal B-cell lymphoma (PMBCL), diffuse large B-cell lymphoma (DLBCL) and follicular lymphoma. ShRNA-induced STAT6 knockdown caused marked apoptosis in the STAT6-mutated cHL cell line L1236, which expresses phosphorylated STAT6 (pSTAT6), while it showed little or no effect in the STAT6-unmutated/pSTAT6+ cHL lines L428 and HDLM2, and in the STAT6-unmutated/STAT6-unphosphorylated cHL line L540. Thus, STAT6 mutations in cHL appear to confer a survival advantage distinct from (and beyond that of) STAT6 phosphorylation, possibly due to their aberrant DNA binding activity following pSTAT6-dependent entry into the nucleus. Interestingly, STAT6 mutations were often associated with disruptive somatic mutations of the JAK-STAT signaling inhibitor SOCS1 (frequency in the evaluable STAT6-mutated versus unmutated patients: 6/7, i.e. 87%, versus 4/14, i.e. 29%; p=0.02), suggesting a genetic interaction. Indeed, transduction of wild-type SOCS1 induced apoptosis of STAT6-mutated L1236 cells to a much greater extent than STAT6-unmutated L428 cells, despite both carry a SOCS1disruptive mutation and express pSTAT6. Furthermore, the presence in additional cases of genetic lesions of other JAK-STAT pathway members (mutations activating STAT3, STA5B, JAK1 or inactivating the inhibitor PTPN1; JAK2 copy number gains) attests to the pervasive role of JAK-STAT signaling in the genetics of cHL (up to ~70% of patients affected). GNA13, encoding Gα13, carried mutations, mostly heterozygous, in 8/36 (22%) patients. By transmitting signals from the S1PR2 and P2RY8 receptors, Gα13 ensures the confinement of proliferating GCB cells within secondary lymphoid follicles, while constraining at the same time their expansion by facilitating apoptosis in this potentially dangerous niche (Nature 2014;516:254). GNA13 mutations in cHL included disruptive (frame-shifting and non-sense) variants and were similar to those identified in GC B cell-derived Burkitt lymphoma and DLBCL of the GCB-type. The apparent histogenetic selectivity of inactivating GNA13mutations, almost never found in post-germinal center ABC-DLBCL, suggests they may facilitate cHL lymphomagenesis by rescuing from apoptosis crippled GC B cells (the proposed HRS cell precursors) and by promoting their dissemination outside the follicles, where HRS cells are indeed observed in lymph nodes with early, partial involvement by cHL (Am J Surg Pathol 1983;7:145). Heterozygous missense mutations of XPO1 occurred in 6/36 patients (17%) at the hot-spot amino acid residue E571, which is recurrently targeted also in chronic lymphocytic leukemia and PMBCL. XPO1encodes exportin-1, which shuttles outside the nucleus more than 200 proteins, including tumor suppressors involved in cHL pathogenesis and functioning in the nucleus (e.g., NFKBIA, FOXOs, TP53) (Blood 2012;120:4621). XPO1 inhibition by the clinical compound selinexor caused growth inhibition and apoptosis of cHL cell lines in a mutation-dependent manner. By providing a global characterization of the cHL coding genome, this works uncovered several new genes implicated in the genetics of this lymphoma, and most prominently in the JAK-STAT pathway, that likely play a significant role in its biology. #Shared first authorship °Shared last authorship Disclosures No relevant conflicts of interest to declare.

In the first half of the 19th century in literature on art the term ‘Old Masters’ was disseminated (Alte Meister, maître ancienns, etc.), this in relation to the concept of New Masters. However, contrary to the widespread view, it did not result from the name institutionalization of public museums (in Munich the name Alte Pinakothek was given in 1853, while in Dresden the Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister was given its name only after 1956). Both names, however, feature in collection catalogues, books, articles, press reports, as well as tourist guides. The term ‘Old Masters’ with reference to the artists of the modern era appeared in the late 17th century among the circles of English connoisseurs, amateur experts in art (John Evelyn, 1696). Meanwhile, the Great Tradition: from Filippo Villani and Alberti to Bellori, Baldinucci, and even Winckelmann, implied the use of the category of ‘Old Masters’ (antico, vecchio) in reference to ancient: Greek-Roman artists. There existed this general conceptual opposition: old (identified with ancient) v. new (the modern era). An attempt is made to answer when this tradition was broken with, when and from what sources the concept (and subsequently the term) ‘Old Masters’ to define artists later than ancient was formed; namely the artists who are today referred to as mediaeval and modern (13th–18th c.). It was not a single moment in history, but a long intermittent process, leading to 18th- century connoisseurs and scholars who formalized early-modern collecting, antiquarian market, and museology. The discerning and naming of the category in-between ancient masters (those referred to appropriately as ‘old’) and contemporary or recent (‘new’) artists resulted from the attempts made to systemize and categorize the chronology of art history for the needs of new collector- and connoisseurship in the second half of the 16th and in the 17th century. The old continuum of history of art was disrupted by Giorgio Vasari (Vite, 1550, 1568) who created the category of ‘non-ancient old’, ‘our old masters’, or ‘old-new’ masters (vecchi e non antichi, vecchi maestri nostri, i nostri vecchi, i vecchi moderni). The intuition of this ‘in-between’ the vecchi moderni and maestri moderni can be found in some writers-connoisseurs in the early 17th (e.g. Giulio Mancini). The Vasarian category of the ‘old modern’ is most fully reflected in the compartmentalizing of history conducted by Carel van Mander (Het Schilder-Boeck, 1604), who divided painters into: 1) oude (oude antijcke), ancient, antique, 2) oude modern, namely old modern; 3) modern; very modern, living currently. The oude modern constitute a sequence of artists beginning with the Van Eyck brothers to Marten de Vosa, preceding the era of ‘the famous living Netherlandish painters’. The in-between status of ‘old modern’ was the topic of discourse among the academic circles, formulated by Jean de La Bruyère (1688; the principle of moving the caesura between antiquité and modernité), Charles Perrault (1687–1697: category of le notre siècle preceded by le siècle passé, namely the grand masters of the Renaissance), and Pellegrino Antonio Orlandi writing from the position of an academic studioso for connoisseurs and collectors (Abecedario pittorico, 1704, 1719, 1733, 1753; the antichimoderni category as distinct from the i viventi). Together with Christian von Mechel (1781, 1783) the new understanding of ‘old modernity’ enters the scholarly domain of museology and the devising of displays in royal and ducal galleries opened to the public, undergoing the division into national categories (schools) and chronological ones in history of art becoming more a science (hence the alte niederländische/deutsche Meister or Schule). While planning and describing painterly schools at the Vienna Belvedere Gallery, the learned historian and expert creates a tripartite division of history, already without any reference to antiquity, and with a meaningful shift in eras: Alte, Neuere, and lebende Meister, namely ‘Old Masters’ (14th–16th/17th c.), ‘New Masters’ (Late 17th c. and the first half of the 18th c.), and contemporary ‘living artists’. The Alte Meister ceases to define ancient artists, while at the same time the unequivocally intensifying hegemony of antique attitudes in collecting and museology leads almost to an ardent defence of the right to collect only ‘new’ masters, namely those active recently or contemporarily. It is undertaken with fervour by Ludwig Christian von Hagedorn in his correspondence with his brother (1748), reflecting the Enlightenment cult of modernité, crucial for the mental culture of pre-Revolution France, and also having impact on the German region. As much as the new terminology became well rooted in the German-speaking regions (also in terminology applied in auction catalogues in 1719–1800, and obviously in the 19th century for good) and English-speaking ones (where the term ‘Old Masters’ was also used in press in reference to the collections of the National Gallery formed in 1824), in the French circles of the 18th century the traditional division into the ‘old’, namely ancient, and ‘new’, namely modern, was maintained (e.g. Recueil d’Estampes by Pierre Crozat), and in the early 19th century, adopted were the terms used in writings in relation to the Academy Salon (from 1791 located at Louvre’s Salon Carré) which was the venue for alternating displays of old and contemporary art, this justified in view of political and nationalistic legitimization of the oeuvre of the French through the connection with the tradition of the great masters of the past (Charles-Paul Landon, Pierre-Marie Gault de Saint-Germain). As for the German-speaking regions, what played a particular role in consolidating the term: alte Meister, was the increasing Enlightenment – Romantic Medievalism as well as the cult of the Germanic past, and with it a revaluation of old-German painting: altdeutsch. The revision of old-German art in Weimar and Dresden, particularly within the Kunstfreunde circles, took place: from the category of barbarism and Gothic ineptitude, to the apology of the Teutonic spirit and true religiousness of the German Middle Ages (partic. Johann Gottlob von Quandt, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe). In this respect what actually had an impact was the traditional terminology backup formed in the Renaissance Humanist Germanics (ethnogenetic studies in ancient Germanic peoples, their customs, and language), which introduced the understanding of ancient times different from classical-ancient or Biblical-Christian into German historiography, and prepared grounds for the altdeutsche Geschichte and altdeutsche Kunst/Meister concepts. A different source area must have been provided by the Reformation and its iconoclasm, as well as the reaction to it, both on the Catholic, post-Tridentine side, and moderate Lutheran: in the form of paintings, often regarded by the people as ‘holy’ and ‘miraculous’; these were frequently ancient presentations, either Italo-Byzantine icons or works respected for their old age. Their ‘antiquity’ value raised by their defenders as symbols of the precedence of Christian cult at a given place contributed to the development of the concept of ‘ancient’ and ‘old’ painters in the 17th–18th century.

AbstractAs was the case with silversmiths (Note 3), many more cabinet-makers were wcrking in Amsterdam during the second half of the 18th century than in any other city in the Dutch Republic, the names of 195 of them being now known as opposed to 57 in The Hague and 32 in Rotterdam (Note 2). Most of those 195 names have been culled from the few surviving documents of the Guild of St. Joseph in Amsterdam, to which the cabinet-makers belonged (Note 4), supplemented by other sources, such as printed registers of craftsmen and shopkeepers (Note 6). Another important source is the newspaper the Amsterdamsche Courant with its advertisements placed by craftsmen themselves, with notices of sales, bankruptcies, lotteries and annual fairs and with advertisements concerning subsidiary or related trades. Since these advertisements were directed at the consumer, they often contain stylistic descriptions such as are not found elsewhere. Moreover, they aford valuable clues to archival material. Hence an investigation of all the advertisements from the years 1751-1800 has formed the basis for a study of Amsterdam cabinet-making, some results of which are presented here. Such a study is doomed largely to remain theoretical. The records can hardly ever be linked with surviving pieces, as these are virtually always anonymous since Amsterdam cabinet-makers were not required to stamp or sign their work. Moreover, only a few pieces of Dutch 18th-century furniture have a known provenance, so that it is only rarely possible to link a piece with a bill or another document and identify its maker. Thus it is not yet possible to form a reliable picture of a local Amsterdam style, let alone embark on attributions to individual makers (Note 8). In this light special importance may be attached to two commodes of the third quarter of the century which are exceptional in that they bear a signature, that of Andries Bongen (Figs. 1, 2, Notes 10, 11). These commodes, being entirely French-inspired, illustrate a specific and little-known aspect of Amsterdam cabinet-making. French furniture was so sought after in Amsterdam at that period that in 1771 a strict ban was imposed on its importation in order to protect local cabinet-makers (Note 12). It had begun to be imitated even before that and the commodes by Bongen exemplify this development. Andries Bongen, who was probably born in Geldern, south of Cleves and just east of the border of the Dutch Republic, is first recorded in Amsterdam in May 1763 on his marriage to Willemina, daughter of the smith Lambert van der Beek. He registered as a citizen on 5 July 1763 and became a master cabinet-maker some time between March 1763 and March 1764 (Note 19), so that, accordirtg to the Guild regulations, he must previously have trained for two years under an Amsterdam master (Note 20). At the time of his marriage he was living in St. Jorisstraat, but by the end of 1766 he had moved to Spui and between 1769 and 1771 he moved again, to Muiderpleinlje. When he and his wife made their will in 1772, their possessions were worth something under 8000 guilders (Note 23). This suggests that the business was quite flourishing, which seems to be confirmed by the fact that Bongen received a commission from the city of Amsterdam in 1771. Two more pieces were made for the city in 1786 and 1789, but in the latter year Bongen was declared bankrupt. The inventory of his possessions drawn up then (see Appeytdix) shows how parlous his conditions had become, his goods being valued at only 300 guilders. The reference to a shop indicates that Bongen sold his own furniture, although he had no stock to speak of at that point. The mention of eight work-benches, however, sugests that his output had previously been quite large. This is confirmed by the extent of his debts, notably that to the timber merchant Jan van Mekeren (Note 27). Other creditors included 'Rudolfeus Eyk', who probably supplied iron trelliszvork for bookcases and the like (Note 28), and the glass merchants Boswel en Zonen (Note 29) No debtors are listed and the only customer who can tentatively be identified is a 'Heer Hasselaar' who might be Pieter Cornelis Hasselaer (1720-95), several times burgomaster of Amsterdam between 1773 and 1794 (Note 30). Bongen died three years after his bankruptcy, at which time he was living in Nieuwe Looiersstraat. He appears to have continued working as a cabiytet-maker up to his death and his widow probably carried on the business until her own death in 1808, but nothing is known of this later period. The clearest insight into the character of part of Bongen's output is aforded by the advertisement he placed in the Amsterdamsehe Courant of 4 December 1766, describing three pieces of furniture 'in the French manner'. This is the first announcement by an 18th-century Amsterdam cabinet-maker of work in the French style. Bongen mentions two commodes decorated with floral marquetry, a technique which had flourished in Amsterdam in the late 17th and early 18th centuries (Note 34), but which had largely fallen into disuse on the advent around 1715 of a more sober type of furniture with plain walnut veneers on the English model (Note 36). In France a form of floral marquetry reappeared in the 1740s, being further developed in the following decade under the influence of Jean-François Oeben (1721-63). From the late 1750s there are indications of the presence of pieces of French marquetry furniture in the new style in Amsterdam (Notes 42, 43). The earliest explicit description of floral marquetry appears in a sale catalogue of 5 June 1765 (Note 44), while in another of 25 March 1766 (Note 46) many French pieces are detailed. Obviously, then, Bongen was endeavouring to capture a share, of this new market. The reappearance of elaborate marquetry on Amsterdam-made furniture was the result of a desire to emulate the French examples. The two commodes described in Bongen's advertisement can be identified with the one now in Amsterdam (Fig.2) and the one sold in London in 1947 (Fig.1). The latter still had more of its original mounts at the time nf the sale (Fig. 4) and the two probably formed a pair originally. The unusual fact that they are signed indicates that Bongen intended them to serve as show-pieces to demonstrate his skill at the beginning of his career (cf. Note 51, for another craftsman from abroad who began his career in Amsterdam by similarly advertising a spectacular piece). The commode in Amsterdam, with all its original mounts, demonstrates most clearly how close Bongen came to French prototypes, although his work has many personal traits nonetheless. In the marquetry the vase on a plinth on the front and the composition of the bouquets on the sides are notable (Fig.5), as are the large, full-blown blooms. The carcase, made entirely of oak, is remarkably well constructed and has a heavy, solid character. The commodes are outstanding for the complete integration of the marquetry and the mounts, in the manner of the finesl French furniture. The mounts presenl a problem, as it is not clear where they were made. They do not appear to be French or English, but one hesitates to attribute them to Amsterdam, as it is clear from documentary material that ornamental furniture-mounts were hardly ever made there in the second half of the 18th century. The mounts advertised by Ernst Meyrink in 1752 (Note 53) were probably still of the plain variety of the early part of the century and there is no further mention of mounts made in Amsterdam in the Amsterdamsche Courant. Once, in 1768, the silversmith J. H. Strixner placed an advertisement which refers to their gilding (Note 55). There is virtually no indication either of French mounts being imported and there is little Dutch furniture of this period that bears mounts which are indisputably French. In contrast to this, a large number of advertisements from as early as 1735 show that many mounts were imported from England, while among English manufacturers who came to sell their wares in Amsterdam were Robert Marshall of London (Note 60), James Scott (Note 61), William Tottie of Rotterdam (Note 62), whose business was continued after his death by Klaas Pieter Sent (Note 64), and H. Jelloly, again of Rotterdam (Notes 66, 67). It seems surprising that in a period when the French style reigned supreme so many mounts were imported from England, but the English manufacturers, mainly working in Birmingham, produced many mounts in the French style, probably often directed expressly at foreign markets. On the two commodes by Bongen only the corner mounts and the handles are of types found in the trade-catalogues of the English manufacturers (Figs. 7, 8, Notes 65, 70). The corner mounts are of a common type also found on French furniture (Note 71), so they doubtless copy a French model. The remaining mounts, however, are the ones which are so well integrated with the marquetry and these are not found elsewhere. Recently a third commode signed by Bongen has come to light, of similar character to the first two (Fig.3). Here all the mounts are of types found in the catalogues (Figs.7-10, Note 72). Apparently Bongen could not, or did not choose to, obtain the special mounts any more, although he clearly wanted to follow the same design (Fig. 6). This third commode was undoubtedly made somewhal later than the other two. The marquetry on it is the best preserved and it is possible to see how Bongen enlivened it with fine engraving. Because this piece is less exceptional, it also allows us to attribute some unsigned pieces to Bongen on the basis of their closeness to it, namely a commode sold in London in 1962 (Fig.11, Note 73) and two smaller, simpler commodes, which may originally have formed a pair, one sold in London in 1967 (Fig.12, Nole 74) and the other in a Dutch private collection (Figs.13, 14). The first one has a highly original marquetry decoration of a basket of flowers falling down. On the sides of this piece, and on the front of the two smaller ones, are bouquets tied with ribbons. These were doubtless influenced by contemporary engravings, but no direct models have been identified. The construction of the commode in the Netherlands tallies completely with tltat of the signed example in Amsterdam. The mounts are probably all English, although they have not all been found in English catalogues (Fig.15, Note 76). A seventh commode attributable to Bongen was sold in Switzerland in 1956 (Fig.16, Note 77). It is unusual in that walnut is employed as the background for the floral marquetry, something virtually unknown in Paris, but not uncommon on German work of French inspiration (Note 78). That commodes constitute the largest group among the furniture in the French style attributable to Bongen should cause no surprise, for the commode was the most sought after of all the pieces produced by the ébénistes not only in France, but all over Europe. Two other pieces which reveal Bongen's hand are two tables which look like side-tables, but which have fold-out tops to transform them into card-tables, a type seldom found in France, but common in England and the Netherlands (Note 80). One is at Bowhill in Scotland (Figs.17, 19, 20), the other was sold in London in 1972 (Fig.18, Note 79). The corner mounts on the Bowhill table, which probably also graced the other one originally, are the same as those on the two small commodes, while the handles are again to be found in an English catalogue (Fig.21, Note 81). What sounds like a similar card-table was sold at auction in Amsterdam in 1772 (Note 82). In Bongen's advertisement of 1766 mention is also made of a secretaire, this being the first appearance of this term in the Amsterdamsche Courant and Bongen finding it necessary to define it. No secretaire is known that can be attributed to him. A medal-cabinet in the form of a secretaire in Leiden (Figs.22, 23) hasfloral marquetry somewhat reminiscent of his work, but lacking its elegance, liveliness and equilibrium. Here the floral marquetry is combined with trompe l'oeil cubes and an interlaced border, early Neo-Classical elements which were first employed in France in the 1750s, so that this piece represents a later stage than those attributable to Bongen, which are all in a pure Louis xvstyle. Virtually identical in form to the medal-cabinet is a secretaire decorated solely with floral marquetry (Fig. 24, Note 87). This also appears not to be by Bongen, but both pieces may have been made under his influence. The picture we can form of Bongen's work on the basis of the signed commodes is clearly incomplete. His secretaire was decorated with '4 Children representing Trade', an exceptionally modern and original idea in 1766 even by French standards (Note 88). His ambitions in marquetry obviously wentfar beyondflowers, but no piece has yet beenfound which evinces this, nor is anything known of the Neo-Classical work which he may have produced after this style was introduced in Amsterdam around 1770. Bongen may perhaps have been the first Amsterdam cabinet-maker to produce marquetry furniture in the French style, but he was not to remain the only one. In 1771 and 1772 furniture in both the Dutch and French mode was advertised for sale at the Kistenmakerspand in Kalverstraat, where all furniture-makers belonging to the Guild of St. Joseph could sell their wares (Note 89). The 'French' pieces were probably decorated with marquetry. Only a small number of cabinet-makers are known to have worked in this style, however. They include Arnoldus Gerritsen of Rheestraat, who became a master in 1769 and sold his stock, including a 'small French inlaid Commode', in 1772, and Johan Jobst Swenebart (c.1747 - active up to 1806 or later), who became a master in 1774 and advertised in 1775 that he made 'all sorts of choice Cabinet- and Flower-works', the last term referring to furniture decorated with floral marquetry. Not only French types of furniture, but also traditional Dutch pieces were now decorated with French-inspired marquetry,for example a collector's cabinet advertised in 1775 by Johan Jacob Breytspraak (c.1739-95), who had become a master in 1769-70; a bureau-bookcase, a form introduced in the first half of the century probably under English influence (Note 100), exhibited in 1772 (Note 99); and a display cabinet for porcelain supplied, though not necessarily made, by Pieter Uylenburg en Zoon in 1775 (Notes 101, 102). Even long-case clocks were enriched with marquetry, witness the one advertised by the clock-maker J. H. Kühn in 1775 and another by him which was sold by auction in Edam in 1777 (Note 104). The latter was, like the bureau-bookcase exhibited in 1772, decorated with musical instruments, again a motif borrowed from France, where it was used increasingly from the 1760s onwards (Note 105). A clock signed by the Amsterdam clock-maker J. George Grüning also has a case with marquetry of musical instruments. This must date from about 1775-80, but its maker is unknown (Fig. 25, Notes 106, 107). All four of the Amsterdam cabinet-makers known to have done marquetry around 1770 came from Germany and all were then only recently established in Amsterdam. In fact half of the 144 Amsterdam cabinet-makers working in the second half of the 18th century whose origins it has been possible to trace came from Germany, so the German element was even stronger there than in Paris, where Germans comprised about a third of the ébénistes (Note 108) and where they had again played an important role in the revival of marquetry. None qf the four in Amsterdam was exclusively concerned with marquetry. Indeed, for some of them it may only have been a secondary aspect of their work. This was not true of Bongen, but he too made plain pieces, witness the four mahogany gueridons he made for the city of Amsterdam in 1771 or the two cupboards also made for the city in 1786 and 1789 (Notes 111, 112).No marquetry is listed in his inventory either. Perhaps fashions had changed by the time of his bankruptcy. Such scant knowledge as we have of Amsterdam cabinet-making between 1775 and 1785 certainly seems to suggest this. In the descriptions of the prizes for furraiture-lotteries, such as took place regularly from 1773 onwards (Note 114), marquetry is mentioned in 1773 and 1775 (Notes 115, 116), but after that there is no reference to itfor about tenyears. Nor is there any mention of marquetry in the very few cabinet-makers' advertisements of this period. When the clock-maker Kühn again advertised long-case clocks in 1777 and 1785, the cases were of carved mahogany (Notes 121, 122). Certainly in France the popularity of marquetry began to wane shortly before 1780 and developments in the Netherlands were probably influenced by this. Towards the end of the 1780s, however, pieces described as French and others decorated with 'inlaid work' again appear as prizes in lotteries, such as those organized by Johan Frederik Reinbregt (active 1785-95 or later), who came from Hanover (Note 128), and Swenebart. The latter advertised an inlaid mahogany secretaire in 1793 (Note 132) and similar pieces are listed in the announcement of the sale of the stock of Jean-Matthijs Chaisneux (c.1734-92), one of a small group of French upholsterers first mentioned in Amsterdam in the 1760s, who played an important part in the spread of French influence there (Note 134). In this later period, however, reference is only made to French furniture when English pieces are also mentioned, so a new juxtaposition is implied and 'French' need not mean richly decorated with marquetry as it did in the 1760s. In fact the marquetry of this period was probably of a much more modest character. A large number of pieces of Dutch furniture in the late Neo-Classical style are known, generally veneered with rosewood or mahogany, where the marquetry is confined to trophies, medallions on ribbons, geometric borders and suchlike. A sideboard in the Rijksmuseum is an exceptionally fine and elaborately decorated example of this light and elegant style (Fig. 26) None of this furniture is known for certain to have been made in Amsterdam, but two tobacco boxes with restrained marquetry decoration (Fig.27, Note 136) were made in Haarlem in 1789 by Johan Gottfried Fremming (c.1753-1832) of Leipzig, who had probably trained in Amsterdam and whose style will not have differed much from that current in the capital. Boxes of this type are mentioned in the 1789 inventory of the Amsterdam cabinet-maker Johan Christiaan Molle (c.1748-89) as the only pieces decorated with inlay (Note 138). In the 1792 inventory of Jacob Keesinger (active 1764-92) from Ziegenhain there are larger pieces of marquetry furniture as well (Note 139), but they are greatly in the minority, as is also the case with a sale of cabinet-makers' wares held in 1794 (Note 141), which included a book-case of the type in Fig.28 (Note 142). Similarly the 1795 inventory of Johan Jacob Breytspraak, one of the most important and prosperous cabinet-makers of the day, contains only a few marquetry pieces (Note 144). The 1793 inventory of Hendrik Melters (1720-93) lists tools and patterns for marquetry, but no pieces decorated with it (Note 145). Melters seems to have specialized in cases for long-case clocks, the Amsterdam clock-maker Rutgerus van Meurs (1738-1800) being one of his clients (Note 146). The cases of clocks signed by Van Meurs bear only simple marquetry motifs (Note 147). The Dutch late Neo-Classical furniture with restrained marquetry decoration has no equivalent in France; it is more reminiscent of English work (Note 148). The pattern-books of Hepplewhite and Sheraton undoubtedly found their way to the Dutch Republic and the 'English' furniture mentioned in Amsterdam sources from 1787 probably reflected their influence. However, the introduction of the late, restrained Neo-Classical style in furniture was not the result of English influence alone. Rather, the two countries witnessed a parallel development. In England, too, marquetry was re-introduced under French influence around 1760 and it gradually became much simpler during the last quarter of the century, French influences being amalgamated into a national style (Notes 150, 151). On the whole, the Frertch models were followed more closely in the Netherlands than in England. Even at the end of the century French proportions still very much influenced Dutch cabinet-making. Thus the typically Dutch late Neo-Classical style sprang from a combirtation of French and English influences. This makes it difficult to understand what exactly was meant by the distinction made between ;French' and 'English' furniture at this time. The sources offer few clues here and this is even true of the description of the sale of the stock of the only English cabinet-maker working in Amsterdam at this period, Joseph Bull of London, who was active between 1787 and 1792, when his goods were sold (Notes 155, 156).

Ramps and scaffoldsThe lifting of large stones during antiquityUntil well into the 18th century, many scholars thought that megaliths were erected by giants. Less supernatural theories did not occur in print until the 19th century. One of these was expressed in a small pamphlet from 1857, “On the Building Manner of the Passage Graves of the Antiquity”, written by the Danish King Frederik the Seventh. Earlier (1853), the king had been convinced that first the capstones had been placed on a mound and then the uprights had been placed in holes dug out under the capstone (fig. 7). When all uprights were in place, the remaining earth was removed. This so-called mound theory is almost completely forgotten, but it surfaced sporadically in the 20th century, last when J. Osenton was reconstructing dolmens in the Cotswold Hill Quarry by Cheltenham in England in 1996-97.In 1857, Frederik the Seventh put forward the ramp theory, according to which the capstone is pulled up on a ramp to the already finished chamber (fig. 7-8). According to Frederik the Seventh’s proposal, the ramp was built from earth lengthwise covered with timber, on top of which the capstone would have been pulled up on rolls.However, the king had not invented this theory. It was known in Scandinavia and Holland already around 1800. In 1815, N. Westendorf in Holland suggested the use of earth ramps, and the following years the Dutch developed the ramp theory further.Both the early Dutch antiquarians and others referred to the fact that from the 16th to the 19th century (after the Spanish conquest), Inca workers in Peru, when erecting large buildings, used earth ramps for pulling large stones in place. During their golden age (1300-l500 AD), the Incas were masters in building with large stones that weighed up to well over 200 metric tons. Perhaps the know ledge of Inca earth ramps inspired the early European antiquarians to suggest that the megaliths had also been pulled in place by the use of ramps.In 1983, an experiment was carried out in Skånes Djurpark (Scania’s Animal Park) under G. Burenhuldt’s supervision: the building of a long barrow. The capstone was mounted on a wooden sledge and pulled in place using a rope and a 16-m long earth ramp covered with timber lengthwise (fig. 9). The gradient of the ramp was 5 degrees. It took fourteen men a mere twelve seconds to pull op the capstone.In Indonesia, the use of wooden ramps for pulling up grave capstones is well known. Such a situation was docu mented in 1910, when four hundred people pulled the stone in place without the use of rolls (fig. 10-11). In Holland, postholes suggesting the use of a similar method have been found in connection with some megalith graves (fig. 12).When using the scaffold method, one end of the stone is lifted using one or more levers while timber is being pushed under the stone. Then the other end is lifted and timber pushed underneath. The stone is then lifted again, and timber is pushed under in the opposite direction of the previous layer of timber – and so forth, until the stone has reached the planned height (fig. 13-14). The stone is lifted up on a steadily growing scaffold, so to speak. When the lever is high up, ropes are attached to it for pulling. This method was used in Denmark during the 19th century, when the National Museum was placing capstones that had fallen from their original position back onto the megalith graves. In 1897, the Danish archaeologist Sophus Müller suggested that the capstones of the megalith graves had origin ally been positioned in this way. In 1979, J.P. Mohen initiated an experiment in Bougon, France, involving the lifting of a 32-tons copy of a capstone (fig. 15).The lifting was carried out using three levers, each operated by twenty men. By pushing timber under the stone, it was easily lifted one meter. During the same experiment, twenty men easily lifted the stone using a single lever. In 1994, in Ramioul in Belgium, the scaffold method was also used for placing a capston e on a newly built alleé couverte. In Cotswold’s Hill Quarry, England, J. Osenton built three dolmens in 1996-97. A five-ton capstone was lifted one meter by two persons, one using a 3.5-meter long lever, the other pushing timber underneath.Levers are thus very effective, as heavy loads may be lifted using small effort. According to the lever principle, Kl x L1 = K2 x L2, where L1 and L2 are the long and short arm (divided by the fulcrum) respectively, Kl is the force used for pulling, and K2 is the force, which in combination with L2 has an effect on the stone itself. If using a completely regular stone, like an over-sized brick, it will be merely half of the stone’s weight that is lifted, as its edge is resting on the support. However, as the stones are usually irregular, the lifted weight in the following calculations is estimated to be 60% of the total weight.At Cotswold Hill Quarry, the relation between effort and load was 1:100, hence, one man had to pull with a mere power of 30 kg in order to lift the heavy stone. At Bou­gon, each of the 60 persons had to pull with a force of 32 kilos, if the relation was 1:10, in order to lift the 32-tons block. A capstone in the Spanish passage grave Cueva de Menga weighs 180 metric tons. It could be lifted by 72 men each pulling 50 kg, if the relation was 1:30.It appears that capstones may be easily lifted using a scaffold. When the stones reached the level of the top of the uprights, they could be pulled in over the chamber. At the experiment at Ramioul, Poissonier and Collin used a method in spired by the transportation of stones in a quarry. In the ends of the round timber just under the stone were drilled holes, in which sticks were placed. When the sticks were turned, the stones could be rolled in position over the chamber (fig. 16 ). The use of Stone’s A-frame, which will be mentioned later, would have been very effective indeed, even when very large stones had to be moved from the scaffold onto the chamber.At Stonehenge, the large sarsen stones were erected 2400 BC towards the end of the late Stone Age (fig. 17). The lintels of the large circle weigh approximately seven tons and are positioned at 4.3 meters above the earth. In the middle of the circle is the “horse shoe” consisting of five thrilitons (a thriliton is a pair of uprights carrying a lintel). These lintels weigh up to 16.5 metric tons and are raised seven meters above ground level.In 1924, the engineer E.H. Stone suggested that the lintels had been pulled up an earth ramp that had been so large that it had a platform on top. Here the final adjustment of the lintel could take place using levers.In 1935, another – simpler – technique, the scaffold method, was suggested by colonel R.H. Cunnington. The engineer C.A. Gauld later developed his idea further. He advocated the use of a rather complicated scaffold, which completely surrounded the uprights (fig. 19).In 1991, the engineer P. Pavel carried out an experiment by Strakonice in the Czech Republic (fig. 20). A copy of two uprights in the Stonehenge circle had been erected, and a lintel was to be put in position. The height was 3.5 meters, and the lintel weighed five metric tons. The procedure was surprisingly simple. Using levers and ropes, the stone was pulled up a ramp made from two heavy stems. The pulling was done in 30-cm tugs, and behind the lintel was a“brake rod”, which was moved along to prevent th e stone from sliding down. The levers were of spruce, 4.5 m long and 25 cm in diameter. The ropes were 3 cm thick. The stone was pulled up in three days by ten men.In 1994, M. Whitby was carryin g out experiments near Stonehenge. They included the placin g of lintels using both ramp and scaffold. For this purpose, concrete copies of two uprights and a lintel had been made. The lintel weighed ten metric tons and had to be lifted seven meters. First, it was lifted using the scaffold method. As this went easily, and it was obvious that it could be easily lifted in place, the experiment was called off The scaffold was a simple one, which did not surround the uprights. The lintel was pulled up a metal ramp, which served as an earth ramp. On the surface, the ramp had three tracks of timber lengthwise, and 90 people pulled up the stone in three ho urs. T he pu llin g was don e usin g an A-frame, which works as anupright lever (fig. 21). E.H. Stone had suggested this method in 1924 when the uprights were erected (fig. 22). Whitby’s experiment had the special point that the timber on the ramp surface was separated at the top, so that it would tip with the stone when it reached the top.One or the other? A ramp or a scaffold? The huge disadvantage of the earth ramp is that it would have taken a very long time to both build it and remove it. It would be faster and easier to use Pavel’s wooden ramp, strengthened and supported by timber and then pull up the stone either using Pavel’s method or an A-frame. Finally, there is the scaffold method, which Whitby and Richards found very rewarding. However, this method seems too simple and undramatic as opposed to the ramps. At any rate, many scholars have become obsessed by the ramps and will not consider the scaffold as an alternative. The theories of how Egypt’s large pyramids were erected are a fine example of this.The Great Pyramid was build for the Pharaoh Cheops, who died around 2580 BC. It is an impressive monument, which was originally 146.5 meters high, with each side measuring 230 meters. It was built from 2.300.000 box-shaped stones, each weighing approximately 2.5 metric tons or less.How the Egyptian pyramids were built is still a matter of speculation. The many suggested methods can be divided into two groups: ramps or gradual raising using levers (the scaffold method). The ramp method is preferred by most, but the shape of the ramps remains a mystery (fig. 23). Ramps have been found next to some very small and unfinished pyramids, but they were less than seven meters high. These ramps were made from limestone rubble, sand, gypsum, and clay. It seems obvious that ramps may have been used for the building of small pyramids and for the lower parts of larger pyramids. However, in the case of the great pyramids, the ramps would gradually become very steep and very long, or both, when the pyramid rose upwards.In his book, “The Complete Pyramids” (1997), Mark Lehner, one of the leading pyramid scholars, strongly advocates the ramp theory. In 1996, he took part in the building of a 6-m high pyramid “to test some of the current theories of armchair pyramid builders and try out ancient theories”. The small pyramid was built using a ramp. The scaffold method was also tested for the raising of a stone weighing two metric tons. The experiment was unsuccessful and therefore dismissed. However, elementary mistakes were made, as for instance using boards stacked in layers as a substitute for heavy timber.In spite of this, there are in fact numerous advantages of lifting the stones step by step. For instance,several teams can work simultaneously on each step; the distance is shorter; there is no long return with an empty sledge; and huge ramps do not have to be built and removed again .When Herodotus visited The Great Pyramid around 440 BC, he was told that it had been built by lifting the stones step- by-step using special devices (mechania). This information was omitted in “The Complete Pyramids”.The method used for building a large pyramid could have been a combination of the two techniques. Ramps were used at first, until they became too large or steep or both, then stones were lifted step- by-step using levers. This change may well have taken place at a height of 50 meters, when 72% of the stone mass was already in place. Also, the use of ramps and scaffolds does not have to be an either/or. Perhaps both methods were used.The heavy bluestones at Stonehenge, each weighing between 3 and 4 metric tons, were quarried in antiquity in the Preseli Mountains in Wales. The 80 bluestones were transported more than 350 km across land and water. In 2000, a group of volunteers wanted to repeat this great achievement of the past by transporting a 3-ton stone along the same route. The project, called The Millenium Stone, was a total failure and had to be given up. The participants met too many obstacles on the way and had to use modern techniques; the stone was transported far shorter distances a day than expected; a crane had to be used for lifting the stone on to a vessel, which later sank in 17 meters of water. One important reason for the poor out come was not just the lack of technical skills, but also lack of planning, expertise, and motivation among the participants. These factors are indeed the prerequi site for a successful implementation, in the past as well as now.The experiments at Bougon, Cotswold, and Strakonice showed that a few people were able to lift the stones. However, in the antiquity this would have taken place at community events, which gathered huge crowds. This was certainly the case when dolmens were built in Indonesia in modern time. Here, the presence of many people gave prestige to the organizers, who in return demonstrated their wealth and hospitality by throwing large parties where the guests were lavishly entertained. For both organizers and participants these occasions offered the possibility of making or renewing agreements and alliances.One of the many reasons behind the erection of the megalith graves was its stabilizing effect on society. The megalith builders would have been highly motivated and very determined, as the balance of their social and spiritual universe depended on a successful completion of the work with the huge stones. The muscle power of hundreds of men is not enough; it also takes a foreman with ingenuity, coordination and determination (fig. 24). The foremen of the English archaeologist, C.L. Woolley, were good at moving large stones. Once, Woolley showed his foreman, the Arab Hamoudi, the large stone, measuring 21.5 x 4.3 x 4.2 meters, which during the first century AD was placed at seven meter’s height in the wall of Acropolis in Baalbek in Syria. “He sat in silence, looking at it for perhaps twenty minutes, and then rose to his feet.‘I must go away,᾿ he said,‘my head aches᾿; and as he went, I heard him murmur: ‘By Allah, what a foreman!᾽”In this context, Woolley mentions that at his time (1953), such a stone could not be lifted that high by machines, but that the people of the antiquity were able to do it because they lacked machines!Palle EriksenRingkøbing MuseumTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

In this article, I analyse some food practices surrounding betel in early Indian history. Betel consumption was not prescribed for everyone in Brahmanical society. Hence I examine texts referring to betel from the late pre-modern to early modern era (roughly 300–1800 ce) in order to explain proscriptions of betel in the legal discourse that discusses religious practice. The literature I consider in my analysis of betel consumption ranges from the kāmaśāstra genre, influential works of tantra, texts detailing worship, and ascetic and renunciant guides. Material cultural studies aid my exploration of betel as a socio-religious identity marker and my development of three modes of betel consumption and one mode of non-consumption.

This article focuses on the early scientific career of George William Francis (1800–1865), a London-born botanist who later emigrated to Australia and founded the Adelaide Botanic Garden. Most scholarly works about Francis emphasize his botanical contributions or life in Australia, yet overlook his career before middle age in England as a versatile popular writer, editor and lecturer. His involvement in the venture of ‘commercial science’, or the display and exploitation of knowledge, reflects a career route for a non-elite practitioner to earn a living and build scientific reputation in early Victorian gentlemanly science. The venture included his establishment of the popular journal The Magazine of Science and School of Arts (1839–1852). He also associated himself with the network of the scientific elites by communicating to the learned, such as the pre-eminent botanist William Hooker. By examining the distinctive trajectory of Francis's career, this essay explores the potential and limits of such strategies to gain institutional recognition from the scientific community in the pre-professionalized period.

The author of this article proposes to consider moralising in Dimitry Rostovsky’s work as a separate narrative, which has a certain set of genre characteristics. Many sermons delivered by Metropolitan Dimitry can be analysed not only from the point of view of sermons glorifying a church holiday or an Orthodox saint but also from the standpoint of writings aimed at educating and raising the moral level of both the flock and pastors. The author of the article especially highlights two epistles addressed to priests dedicated to the sacraments of Confession and the Eucharist, in which Dimitry Rostovsky acts as a true spiritual teacher. These instructive literary epistles, as a type of Slavic bookish rhetoric, are similar in style to the metropolitan’s sermons, but carry a much more pronounced moralistic load. Apology for the Soothing of Sorrows of a Man Who Is in Trouble, Persecution, and Bitterness… (1696) also belongs to the spiritual writings of Dimitry and its apology is close to moralising. Starting with the first works of Dimitry Rostovsky, such as The Miracle of the Most Holy and Blessed Virgin Mary (1677) and The Dewy Fleece (1683) and ending with The Cell Chronicle (1707–1709), moralising becomes a special narrative (sometimes marked, as in Miracles… and The Dewy Fleece). Their content is an explanation of the causes of human sins, a call through repentance for a virtuous life, and the glorification of the blessings of the Lord. The moralising not only has a clear internal structure in the form of small texts that interpret miracles by presenting quotes and images borrowed from the Holy Scripture and the writings of the holy fathers, but they also occupy an important place in the composition of the early books, turning into a kind of an epiphonema of each miracle. The Cell Chronicle was created in the same way. Along with the presentation of biblical history and its interpretation, moralising is an integral part of the work. However, the instructions of The Cell Chronicle concerned not only general Christian topics, but they were also occasional; reflecting the circumstances of everyday life, they were close to the texts found in the Statir collection created in the Urals in the late seventeenth century.

In the canon of the Dutch Indies literature, the works of female writers are sometimes overlooked. Mainly when it appears in the early period of the Dutch colonial period, the central issue and genre in most of the literary works are frequently written by male authors through a masculine colonial perspective. This paper explores the works of female authors in the period of the Dutch East Indies (1800-1942) using two computational tools. The aim is to examine the most common themes that are appeared in the female authors' works throughout this long period. Using two computational tools, Stylo and Antconc, this paper reveals genre closeness and the most common themes that are appeared in twelve Dutch East Indies female novels which are collected from dbnl.org. Based on the cluster analysis, this paper divides the novels into four different clusters. More over the computational analysis also shows the three main themes; exploration, disadvantages of being a repressed group, and fighting against the oppressed. The use of extensive digital data in this research gives an alternative for literary researchers to find an alternative way of doing their research during this pandemic time, which makes the physical visit to the library limited. It also gives an alternative in the literature field to combine this discipline with computational tools.KEYWORDS: Indies literature, female literature, computational literary studies, digital humanities.

No one who knows the quality and quantity of his work will be surprised to hear that G. E. Bentley, Jr., published one more meticulous, thoughtful, and eminently readable book before his death in 2017. This one is an account of the publishing career of Thomas Macklin, patron of William Blake (and most of his colleagues in art), proprietor of the Poets’ Gallery (the name of a printshop, a gallery, and a series of publications), and the publisher of the largest and most opulent illustrated letterpress King James Bible ever produced. Little is known about Macklin beyond the public facts of his commercial activities—even the year of his birth is expressed by a span of nearly a decade—but in his day he was second in importance only to John Boydell among English publishers of prints and illustrated books. Boydell began building his publishing empire in the early 1750s, cannily introducing vertical integration into the prevailing model of printselling, in which independent engravers sold their prints and sometimes their plates to printsellers, who retailed them to the public. Except for Hogarth’s works, the English print market in the first half of the eighteenth century was dominated by portraits, landscapes, and genre subjects with only modest aesthetic pretensions, using merely functional graphic techniques. Hoping to raise the dignity of the English print, Boydell began to hire the best painters in England to create grand images of historical (that is, narrative) subjects from myth and ancient and modern history, then hired the best engravers to create large, highly polished prints, often on the scale of small paintings, using elegant graphic techniques that had been the specialty of European engravers. “History painting” was the most exalted, among critics, at least, of the pictorial modes, but had been largely avoided in the early English print market, whether because of vestigial Protestant iconoclasm, objections to the “Roman” associations of traditional religious subjects, or aversion to classical paganism. Boydell’s new English prints often appealed to patriotism (as in the large engraving of Benjamin West’s Death of Wolfe) and were marketed as fine art for those who could not afford oil paintings but could manage a few fancy prints, framed and glazed, perhaps hand colored, for their parlors. This phenomenon expanded and exalted the English print market for a while, but bourgeois parlors had limited space on the walls, and only wealthy collectors could afford to buy and store, much less display, large numbers of prints.

Artikkelissa tarkastellaan Martti Rapolan (1891–1972) sanakokoelmaa. Rapola tutki murteiden ohessa Ruotsin vallan ajan kirjasuomea uransa alusta saakka, mutta hän alkoi julkaista tutkimuksia 1800-luvun kielestä vasta 1930-luvulla saatuaan Suomen kirjakielen kehitys -teoksensa (1933) ensimmäisen osan julki. Vuosikymmenen jälkipuoliskolla hän alkoi koota aineistoa, josta vähitellen muotoutui merkitysten mukaan jaoteltu sanakokoelma. Aktiivisinta tämän kokoelman keruu ja hyödyntäminen tutkimuksessa näyttäisi olleen sotavuosina 1940-luvun alkupuoliskolla, jolloin julkiset arkistokokoelmat eivät olleet käytettävissä. Näkemyksensä 1800-luvun kielen kehityksestä Rapola kiteytti vuonna 1945 julkaisemansa suppean Vanha kirjasuomi -teoksen loppulukuun. Tätä hän ei teoksen myöhemmissä painoksissa enää muuttanut, vaikka hän julkaisikin laajimmat 1800-luvun kieltä koskevat erityistutkimuksensa vasta tämän jälkeen. Rapola hyödynsi sanakokoelmaansa vielä julkaistessaan valikoiman Sanastomme ensiesiintymiä Agricolasta Yrjö-Koskiseen (1960), mutta tässä teoksessa hän tarkasteli otsikon mukaisesti vain kirjasuomeen vakiintunutta sanastoa, joten suurin osa hänen kokoamastaan aineistosta jäi hyödyntämättä. Rapolan 1800-luvun sanakokoelman on arvioitu käsittävän 44 000 sanalippua. Näistä pieni osa on poimintoja suomen murteista, vanhasta kirjasuomesta ja 1900-luvun kielestä, mutta valtaosa lipuista on poimintoja erilaisista 1800-luvun lähteistä: sanakirjoista ja sanastoista, kirjoista ja lehtiartikkeleista, (etupäässä julkaistujen editioiden kautta) hiukan myös kirjeistä ja päiväkirjoista. Lähteitä on kaikkiaan lähes 900. Niistä suurin osa on 1820–1860-luvuilta; etenkin vuosisadan äärivuosikymmeniltä lähteitä on niukasti. Rapola keskittyi poimimaan kirjasuomen itäisten kehittäjien tuotantoa. Nimekkeiden määrän pohjalta aineistossa parhaiten edustettuina ovat Elias Lönnrot, August Ahlqvist ja Volmar Schildt-Kilpinen, näitä harvinaisempina Reinhold von Becker, Carl Axel Gottlund ja eräät Suomettaren toimittajat. Länsisuomalaisia kielenkäyttäjiä Rapola on poiminut selvästi vähemmän, mikä liittyy osittain siihen, että hän on tarkastellut hyvin niukasti vanhan läntisen kirjakielen suorinta jatkumoa edustavaa 1800-luvun hengellistä kirjasuomea. Poimintojensa niukkuuden vuoksi kirjasuomen pohjoisten kehittäjien, kuten Carl Niclas Keckmanin ja Klaus Johan Kemellin, merkitys ei Rapolalle auennut eikä hän täysin ymmärtänyt hämäläisen Jaakko Juteininkaan roolia. Näin Rapolan sanakokoelman painotukset muokkasivat 1800-luvun kirjasuomesta hänen tutkimustensa kautta vakiintunutta kuvaa. Tämä alkoi muuttua vasta, kun tutkimuksessa alettiin tarkastella myös sellaisia aihealueita ja henkilöitä, joita Rapola oli tutkinut vain niukasti, jos lainkaan. The 19th-century word collection of Martti Rapola, its background and influence Martti Rapola (1891–1972) conducted research on Finnish dialects and Old Literary Finnish throughout his long career. It was not until 1933, however, that he published his first study on 19th-century Finnish, after the publication of his influential book Suomen kirjakielen kehitys (‘The Development of the Finnish Literary Language’). In the late 1930s, Rapola began collecting material for what would develop into a word collection of 19th-century Finnish based on word meaning. This collection is the focus of this article. The most active phase in the collection and study of this material seems to have been during the war years 1940–1945, when public archive collections were not at his disposal. In 1945 Rapola published the booklet Vanha kirjasuomi (Old Literary Finnish), in the final chapter of which he went on to formulate his ideas on the development of 19th-century Finnish as well. He did not revise his early thoughts on this subject, even though he published his most substantial studies on 19th-century Finnish in the late 1940s and the 1950s. In 1960 Rapola published Sanastomme ensiesiintymiä, a lexical selection of the first appearances of Finnish words. In this book he only dealt with words still in use, leaving the bulk of his collection unpublished. In its entirety, Rapola’s collection contains approximately 44 000 word notes. The majority of these are based on dictionaries, glossaries, books and articles published in the 19th century, and only a small fraction contains either earlier or later literary language, or material from unpublished sources such as diaries and letters. The list of sources consists of nearly 900 bibliographical entries. These are predominantly from the years 1820–1870; thus, both the beginning and the end of the century are sparsely represented. Rapola focused largely on works by 19th-century representatives of eastern Finnish dialects. Authors like Elias Lönnrot, August Ahlqvist and Volmar Schildt-Kilpinen are very well represented in the collection, while there is less material from Reinhold von Becker, Carl Axel Gottlund and some of the editors of the magazine Suometar. Rapola showed less interest in the works of western dialect representatives, especially for religious literature, which had a long tradition in Western Finland. Due to the scarcity of western material, he failed in his studies to understand the role of the Tavastian author Jaakko Juteini as well as the significance of northern Finnish writers. It was not until scholars started to pay attention to individuals and themes largely overlooked by Rapola that views on 19th-century Finnish began to reach a new stage of development.

THE PROBLEM WITH PROVOCATION: ON LARS VON TRIER, ENFANT TERRIBLE OF DANISH ART FILM Anyone interested in contemporary art is likely to have spent a good deal of time pondering the nature and role of artistic provocation. Provocation as a crucial feature of artistic practice was largely unknown before 1800 (Walker 1999: 1). The idea of 'shocking the recipient' was, however, 'a dominant principle of artistic intent' for members of the various avant-garde movements that emerged in the early decades of the 20th century (Peter Bürger, cited in Walker: 2), and at this point the provocateur is a well-known and even expected figure in the landscape of art. It is not difficult to think of examples of artworks that are self-evidently about creating a sense of outrage. Let me mention just a few well-known works that prompted a public outcry: Rick Gibson's Human Earrings (1985), which consists of a...