Ricezioni dell’Alterità nei musei missionari Note su una raccolta cinese tra i conventi francescani di Parma e Rimini (1893-1943)

Time-series tests of the Hotelling r-percent rule for natural resource prices have not been strongly supportive, but the tests and the data are subject to serious difficulties. We propose here an alternative testing strategy based on another but less widely known implication of the Hotelling model. We test this implication, which we call the Hotelling Valuation Principle, by regressing the market values of the reserves of a sample of U.S. domestic oiland gas-producing companies on their estimated Hotelling values. We find that the estimated Hotelling values account for a significant portion of the observed variations in market values and that the Hotelling measures are better indicators of the market values of petroleum properties than two widely cited publicly available alternative appraisals.

Religious and military architecture represented the core of early modern Portuguese architectural and artistic culture. Churches and fortresses are still the main architectural and symbolic landmarks of Portuguese history, closely related to the country’s maritime explorations and its colonial empire. Thus, religious architecture still plays a crucial role in the Portuguese landscape and cultural environment. Foremost among these is the monastery of Jerónimos near Lisbon. Its construction spanned the entire 16th century, yet in the 19th and 20th centuries, historiography fixed its image as an icon of the so-called Manueline style, associating it with the Portuguese maritime power developed during the reign of Manuel I (1495–1521). Since the late 20th century, Portuguese scholars have rethought the vision, challenging the term Manueline and unveiling the manifold artistic and architectural confluences and transformations. This is evidenced by the main chapel’s reconstruction by architect Jerónimo de Ruão in the latter half of the 16th century under the regency of the Queen Catherine of Austria. Her architectural patronage served as a model of patronage for women as the powerful Princess Mary of Portugal, who commissioned the main chapel of the church of Luz, and the very wealthy Simõa Godinha of African birth, who sponsored the current main chapel of the church of Conceição Velha (ex-chapel of Holy Spirit). The vast religious complex of the Order of Christ, as well as the balanced architecture of the chapel of Our Lady of Immaculate Conception, both situated in Tomar, reflected the circulation in Portugal of 16th-century Italian architectural treatises, which contributed to the cultural renewal of architects as João de Castilho or sculptors as Nicolas Chanterene. The architectural works of Francesco da Cremona in Northern Portugal and of Miguel de Arruda in Évora also spread the Renaissance architectural culture. In the 16th century, monumental portals and grand retables share a similar taste for magnificence and sculpted details, while in the 1580s, the architecture painted on the ceiling of the Jesuit church of Saint Roque in Lisbon was a very disruptive pictorial experimentation. During the Union of Iberian Crowns (1580–1640/1668), the consolidation of the classicist erudition of Portuguese architects underpinned the building of main churches as São Vicente de Fora in Lisbon or the Jesuit church in Coimbra (after the Jesuits’ expulsion from Portugal in 1759, it was transformed into the New Cathedral). Simultaneously, from the latter half of 16th century through the 17th century, simplified typologies of religious architecture proliferated in both Portugal and its colonial territories. Coined for the first time (1972) by George Kubler as “plain architecture”—rendered in Portuguese as arquitetura chã (1988)—this concept gained significant traction among scholars but was subsequently rethought by José Eduardo Horta Correia. Simplified patterns, the resource economy, and the use of models by Serlio’s treatise characterized a panoply of buildings, from the extensive horizontal mass of the Santa-Clara-a-Nova monastery in Coimbra to the classicist erudition of the chapel of Onze Mil Virgens in Alcácer do Sal, encompassing the five new cathedrals (Leiria, Portalegre, Miranda do Douro, Angra do Heroismo, and Goa) built during this time. The shift toward Baroque sensibility and culture gradually unfolded within 17th-century Portuguese architectural spaces. On one hand, they maintained exterior sobriety, increasing the opulence of the interior decorations thanks to magnificent gilded wood-carved grand retables and walls covered by azulejos. On the other hand, certain central-plan sacred spaces exhibited externally curved and undulating walls, as seen in the church of Sant’Engracia in Lisbon. It was built by the architect João Antunes, who also was used to designing colored marble retables with Solomonic columns. His art aimed to change the artistic and architectonic Portuguese tradition prevalent up to that time.

Reviewed by: Disability Studies and Spanish Culture: Films, Novels, the Comic and the Public Exhibition by Benjamin Fraser Matthew J. Marr Keywords comic, cultural studies, disability studies, documentary, film, graphic novel, Benjamin Fraser, Matthew J. Marr, novel, public exhibition, representation, political, social, visual arts Fraser, Benjamin . Disability Studies and Spanish Culture: Films, Novels, the Comic and the Public Exhibition. Liverpool, UK: Liverpool UP, 2013. xxvii + 192 pp. The fifth installment in the Representations: Health, Disability, Culture and Society book series first launched by Liverpool University Press in 2008, Benjamin Fraser's Disability Studies and Spanish Culture: Films, Novels, the Comic and the Public Exhibition (2013) offers a smart, engaging, and welcome scholarly incursion into a critical space which has gone largely overlooked in contemporary Peninsular cultural studies, if not (with a few noteworthy exceptions, some of which are noted by the author) within Hispanic studies more broadly construed. Accordingly, the critical task at hand in this monograph is as vital as it is formidable. Indeed, the scope of Fraser's book—notwithstanding its efficient design, which measures in at just under 200 pages (including the bibliography and detailed index)—is conceptually expansive: an observation applicable to this study not only by virtue of the range of cultural materials considered in its eight main case studies (selections covered in pairs over four main body chapters), but also vis-à-vis the array of definitions (medical, social, legislative) and actual manifestations (bodily, cognitive, emotive) which the term "disability" encompasses in and of itself. In the face of such multivariable complexities, Fraser's volume delivers to a genuinely satisfying degree, fulfilling its overarching objectives as stated in the book's initial pages, where the author explicitly sets out to follow scholar-activist Lennard J. Davis's lead in advocating a conception of Disability Studies as both an academic project and a political movement. Perceptively framing Davis's formulation as "yet another way of embracing the critical aim of cultural studies" (ix) as defined by one of the field's founding voices, Raymond Williams—who promoted a vision of cultural studies as an area of critical inquiry ideally attentive to both diverse discursive materials and their context of production—Fraser proceeds to [End Page 122] pitch his study as an "attempt to bring a Disabilities Studies perspective to bear on selected Spanish materials as diverse as fiction films, documentaries, novels, and even the sequential art of the graphic novel/comic" (ix). At the level of methodology, he promises a "central focus" keenly attuned to matters of representation (ix), while at the same time underscoring his broader goals of forging an interdisciplinary "dialogue with existing research on disability"—scholarship which spans "a wide spectrum of approaches (philosophical, historical, social)" (ix). Once beyond these foundational remarks, the remainder of the introduction stands out as a notable achievement, comprised as it is of a highly readable synthesis of a complex body of theory that lies at the heart of disability studies as a scholarly discipline and social project. Fraser nimbly negotiates this point of departure for his discussion by way of a superbly researched and up-to-date explication of the "general dimensions" of the field (of use, in the most general sense, to readers unfamiliar with the terrain in question), a portion of the text in which he makes apt use of insights drawn from a host of interdisciplinary thinkers. These include, given the field's only incipient development in Spain and Latin America, critics almost exclusively from the English-speaking world: Harlan Lane, Licia Carlson, David T. Mitchell, Sharon L. Snyder, Tobin Siebers, and (once more) Lennard J. Davis, among others. In subsequent chapters, the author's close readings of specifically Spanish cultural products of recent years—analyses buttressed by frequent supporting reference to issues surrounding disability at the level of public policy in Spain—act as a counterbalance to the introduction's residence in a space which may strike certain readers as overly detached from the contemporary Peninsular milieu. Moreover, in all of his readings, Fraser opts to foreground cultural materials that have remained relatively underexamined to date by academic critics. In the first chapter, he offers a terrific section on Álvaro Pastor and Antonio...

This paper analyzes penology in the United States during the 19th century in terms of the business cycle and labor supply. A systematic theory of the economic functions of imprisonment can be constructed with reference to the interaction between the crime- and class-control strategies of prison reformers, prison administrators, and government officials, and their financial and industrial goals. I develop a theoretical model which links variations in prison discipline and prison labor policy to the processing of populations through the criminal justice system as both economic threats and economic resources. Using this model, I examine six periods of 19thcentury U.S. history and show that changes in business conditions and labor supply coincided with identifiable stages in the development of penology.

MIUR enacted last year the new Guidelines of Physical Education and Sport to improve the sport activity into the school through the sport school association and gives, for this aim, only 33% of amount of economical resources that, in the past years, allocated for extra activity of physical education and sport. From a case study to compare data between 2 years of a sample of 10 schools of Naples, 6 schools decreased sports activity, 4 schools increased little bit and only 1 increased because had added own economical resource. Furthermore this one also deliberated a school sport association in collaboration to sport association as suggests new Guidelines. The aim of this study is to know which process the school adopted. Method is case study to describe the process and steps. All 10 schools confirm the past sport activities in different forms with several percentages among the schools are very good in consideration of the bad actual context of public school. But the significant decrease of number of students, which are generally distributed in every school, must do a reflection on general situation of high sport left. The 7 schools utilized only the economical ministerial resource and only 2 schools utilized economical ministerial resources is the demonstration of low culture in physical education and sport into school. Furthermore, the low additional own economical resources is relevant to demonstrate the gravity of situation. The datum of only 1 school added own economical resource in congruent amount means that just the 10% of schools understand the spirit of change according to the new Guidelines of Physical Education and Sport. The study suggests to start an investigation on public sport education service offered by school and by sport association and to establish a specific committee to research on this phenomenon to carry out the data to know every aspect of it.

This collective case study explores the confluence of educational policy and professional praxis by examining the ways art teachers in one public school district make decisions about creating and implementing curricula. Through various interpretations of one district's formal and informal expectations of art teachers, some of the complexities of standards, instruction, and assessment policies in public schools are described. The research shares how art teachers are influenced by local policy expectations by examining how five K-12 art teacher participants negotiate their ideological beliefs and practical knowledge within the professional context of their local setting, and presents an art teacher decision-making framework to conceptualize the influences for praxis and to organize analysis. Case study data include in-depth interview sessions, teaching observations, and district policy artifacts. Themes emerge in the findings through coding processes and constructivist grounded theory analysis methods. The research describes how participants interpret and negotiate expectations, finding curricular freedom and participation in public exhibition as central policy factors. Contributing the perspectives of art teachers to the literature of policy implementation and fine arts education, the study finds that balancing autonomy and mandates are primary sites for negotiating praxis and that informal expectations for student exhibition contribute to a culture of competition and teacher performance evaluations. The study presents implications for policy makers, administrators, and art educators while sharing possibilities for future research about policy expectations. The research describes how participants interpret and negotiate expectations, finding curricular freedom and participation in public exhibition as central policy factors. Contributing the perspectives of art teachers to the literature of policy implementation and fine arts education, the study finds that balancing autonomy and mandates are primary sites for negotiating praxis and that informal expectations for student exhibition contribute to a culture of competition and teacher performance evaluations. The study presents implications for policy makers, administrators, and art educators while sharing possibilities for future research about policy expectations.

The following project addresses how the preservation of memory is affected when memorials and public exhibits develop within a dispersed material cultural landscape. To address this problem, the Battle of Point Judith in May 1945 is used a case study. The Battle of Point Judith and its associated wrecks, the German U-853 and the American SS Black Point, display the positives and negatives of memorialization and public exhibition for historical artifacts across a decentralized material cultural landscape. After analyzing the characteristics of memorials, museums, and memorial-museums through additional examples like Auschwitz-Birkenau and Hiroshima, it may be seen that the Battle of Point Judith is represented in memorials and museums but not in memorial-museums. This may be because of its dispersed material cultural landscape, its smaller comparative casualties, and its localized recognition at the time. However, the variety of exhibition methods including small plaque memorials, artifact exhibitions, and online exhibitions of Synthetic Aperture Sonar images have maintained the battle’s place in the historical memory of New England. By specifically synthesizing the history of the Battle of Point Judith and its post-war salvage a reemphasis on preserving its place in local memory develops. This recentralized model counters the dispersal of the material cultural landscape and recognizes the importance of the Battle of Point Judith as a piece of Rhode Island history. This project along with the recommendations and examples provided by the U-505 exhibit convey that the creation of a memorial-museum for the battle is possible. Due to the dispersed landscape, it may look different, taking on a temporary or digital form, but its production would establish how decentralized interpretations preserve New England’s memory of the Battle of the Atlantic and how recentralized ones preserve Rhode Island’s memory of the Battle of Point Judith. The reemphasis on local memory will serve veterans, their families, and the Rhode Island public by offering a centralized synthesis of the history.

Progress in improving the quality and quantity of water used by people in rural areas of the developing world has been unsatisfactory in two respects: (1) supplies that have been built are frequently neither used correctly nor properly maintained and (2) extension of improved service to unserved populations has been slow. Though this poor record is not the result of a single factor, a major impediment to improved performance is inadequate information on the response of consumers to new service options. The behavioral assumptions that typically underlie most rural water supply planning efforts are simple. It is commonly assumed that so long as financial requirements do not exceed 5% of income, rural consumers will choose to abandon their existing water supply in favor of the "improved" system. Several reviews by the World Bank, bilateral donors, and water supply agencies in developing countries have shown, however, that this simple model of behavioral response to improved water supplies has usually proved incorrect.1 In rural areas many of those "served" by new systems have chosen to continue with their traditional water use practices.

The armed forces of the late empire remained of central importance in a world whose geopolitical certainties and assumptions had been severely shaken by the upheavals of the 3rd century. Those upheavals and the changed international landscape which emerged prompted significant reconfigurations of the empire’s armies and their command, as well as an expansion in their size, with far-reaching consequences for governmental infrastructure and economic resources. The most fundamental organizational change was the separating out of a strategic reserve of elite troops from those forces based in the frontier provinces, with a greater emphasis on mobile cavalry units. During the 4th century, that reserve evolved into a number of regional armies, some of which then fragmented under the impact of further upheavals in the late 4th and 5th centuries, especially in the western half of the empire. However, the armies of the eastern half generally proved more resilient and provided the basis for a period of renewed expansion in the 6th century. Although the armies of the late empire suffered significant defeats and setbacks, they also achieved some notable successes, and the military history of the period should not be characterized solely as one of inexorable and inevitable decline.

Reviewed by: Spaces of Memory. Architecture by Aleksandar Kadijević and Milan Popadić Jelena Bogdanović Aleksandar Kadijević and Milan Popadić. Prostori Pamćenja. Arhitektura [ Spaces of Memory. Architecture.] In Serbian, English, Russian, and French. Belgrade: Odeljenje za istoriju umetnosti Filozofskog fakulteta Univerziteta u Beogradu. 2013. 456 pp. 34 essays with 182 black-and-white figures and line drawings, 3 tables, and selected bibliographical references. ISBN 978-8-68880-333-5. Following an international symposium held in Belgrade in 2011, Aleksandar Kadijević and Milan Popadić coedited a sizable and important collection of essays on the spaces of memory with a particular focus on architecture. This volume, Prostori Pamćenja. Arhitektura [Spaces of Memory. Architecture.] consists of 34 essays written by Serbian and international scholars trained in various disciplines—from architecture to psychology—each asking critical questions with respect to the role that architecture plays in shaping individual and collective memory. The majority of the texts deal with the complex formations of the spaces of memory in the territories of Serbia and former Yugoslavia since late antiquity to recent times. Closely intertwined with the questions of personal and collective identity embodied in architecture, most of the essays examine war memorials and various other types of architectural and urban compounds specifically designed for the display of societal values and aspirations in a given time and region. A few essays provide valuable comparative case studies of the memorials in 20th-century Russia, Poland, Scotland, Italy, Germany, and the United States. Written in Serbian, English, Russian, and French and generously illustrated with more than 180 images in order to access the largest readership, all the chapters are thematically intertwined and presented chronologically. [End Page 167] The first essay is by Olga Špehar, who examines imperial palaces—which were built in the territories of modern day Croatia and Serbia during the late 3rd and early 4th centuries—through the lenses of their importance in the promotion of the Roman imperial cult. Several case studies examine the role of Byzantine and Serbian medieval and Renaissance churches and their performativity aspects for creating memory landscapes, closely linked with religious ethos and the memory of specific historical events of the past. Jasmina Ćirić writes thoughtfully on the Old Testament motif of the Tree of Life, whose expanded meaning came to be the prefiguration of Christ and is evidenced in Byzantine and Serbian medieval churches. Branislav Cvetković examines medieval churches and their furnishing built to commemorate specific historical events such as military victories. Saša Brajović highlights the role of the Mother of God and Marian ceremonies and processions in the formation of the civic identity of Perast and the bay of Kotor, during the periods of the Venetian Republic, Ottoman, and Austro-Hungarian Empires. The majority of the texts focus on the architectural and urban designs that highlight societal values or commemorate historical events from the more recent past. Branko Čolović considers chapels and tombs as the expression of Serbian identity values in 19th-century Dalmatia. Ljubodrag P. Ristić highlights the role of the British diplomatic and travel documents in the international promotion of Serbian architectural heritage in the 19th century. Milan Prosen and Viktor I. Kosik examine Russian émigré architecture in 19th-century Serbia and the Balkans as peculiar identity spaces that canvassed vast geographical distances. Igor Borozan highlights the creation of Serbian national visual culture based on the legendary battle on Mišarsko polje of 1806, where, as he successfully argues, the field (polje) over time became a memory space itself. Then again, Haris Dajč showcases how the actual space of the Sava slope in Belgrade provided an urban topography for the historical development of Belgrade in the 19th and early 20th centuries. In their texts, Miloš Stanković, Dragana Ružić, Dimitrije Lj. Marinković, Dušica Živanović, Violeta Obrenović, Vuk Nedeljković, Sladjana Žunjić, Aleksandra Ilijevski, Aleksandar Kadijević, Magdalena Pokrzyńska, Nenad Lajbenšperger, Vladana Putnik, Paolo Tomasella, Ivan R. Marković, and Dijana Milašinović Marić examine specific case studies of memorials built in honor of military heroes and victims of war as architectural solutions for expressing respect for historical individuals that continue to inspire the collective ethos and identity in a given region. These case studies include the...

Research questions in resource economics increasingly have incorporated both the field's traditional dynamic considerations and the spatial concerns that often are the focus of regional economics. Spatial heterogeneity in costs, benefits, or connectivity often interact with intertemporal change in contexts such as fisheries management, water allocation, invasive species control, and land use change, making spatially‐ or temporally‐uniform polices less likely to be efficient. In this article, we examine how climate change is likely to enhance the need to incorporate spatial‐dynamic approaches to address natural resource challenges. We focus our discussion on rural areas, which are typically highly dependent on natural resources and particularly vulnerable to climate change. Following a brief review of existing spatial‐dynamic models in natural resource economics and the insights derived from them, we describe how climate change can bring new spatial or temporal aspects to resource management problems, or exacerbate existing resource challenges that are best characterized as spatial‐dynamic processes. We conclude with three case studies that highlight how integrating resource and regional economics through spatial‐dynamic modeling may improve the analysis of climate change impacts in rural areas, considering the effects on rangeland management, groundwater policy, and land use management in floodplains and coastal areas.

The legal history of New Spain during the 16th and 17th centuries has been studied from three perspectives: that of the legal historians, from an institutional viewpoint, and finally with regard to the social history. The historians of Derecho indiano qualify the law of the 16th and 17th centuries as casuistic in nature. That is to say that orders are given for specific situations; there is no general legislation. On the one hand, during the first century under Spanish domination, the governmental institutions were undergoing their construction and thus throughout the 16th century were experiencing constant change. Víctor Tau Anzoátegui proposed that there were three types of norms applied in America: (1) those issued by the Council of the Indies, (2) those taken from the registration books (cedularios) and from what became the Recopilación de leyes de Indias in 1690, and (3) those from the set of rules emanating from the viceroy, the Audience, the governors, and other representatives of the king in those dominions. The name of Derecho indiano is given to this set of normatives. On the other hand, it must be understood that the colonial society was a society integrated by corporations and that each corporation was ruled by its own laws, by way of Ordenanzas or Estatutos. That said, the legal history of New Spain in the 16th and 17th centuries is, in reality, the history of a multiplicity of institutions that were transferred from Castile and underwent important modifications during their establishment on American soil. Furthermore, it is important to note that—given the Mesoamerican cultural diversity—the institutions, both transferred and created locally, behaved differently according to the local cultural and regional conditions. Therefore, the historiography of New Spain is characterized by case studies, and the works of a general character, in reality, cover the history of the most-important institutions, such as the Council of the Indies, the encomienda, and the tribute, or the history of the diverse tribunals. Moreover, we find works that reflect upon the actions of the Spanish monarchy in America. It is important to note that in this article the themes registered cover both the royal and ecclesiastical fields. Legal historians have concentrated their efforts on the study of Derecho indiano and on the major legal controversies during the first few years after the discovery of the Americas. Meanwhile, institutional historians have concentrated on the study of the incorporation of the Castilian institutions into the indigenous and Creole world, as well as on general institutional history. And, finally, social historians have focused on observing the application of the law by way of case studies, including their regional and temporal variants.

This article aims to reveal the social and spatial change in Bakırköy through time and to identify the drivers behind this transformation. Bakırköy has been chosen as it hosted the Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman Empires, leading to its multicultural and layered structure. It has been influenced by the dominant features of each era, shaping socio-economic changes, spatial transformations, and urban planning practices over the historical process. The interaction of these socio-spatial elements within Bakırköy encompasses broad themes such as social differentiation, economic change, and urban governance, thereby presenting case studies to examine the dynamics of urban areas in Istanbul. The research has been conducted at two levels. First, spatial changes were examined through relevant documents, literature, and historical maps. The periods were determined as the state-led development period (1923-1950), liberalization period (1950-1980), neoliberal transformation period (1980-2000), and globalization period (post-2000), with the pre-1923 period being considered separately. Subsequently, five case studies were selected to represent different functional land use at the local level. The first case study involves an area known as the İskender Çelebi Farm in the 17th century, which was chosen to represent the transformation from a food production area to industrial production in the 18th century and has become a mass housing area in the 20th century, now known as the Ataköy districts. The second and third case studies represent the transformation from industrial production areas in the 19th and early 20th centuries to residential, tourism, and shopping areas. The fourth case study focuses on the coastal strip, which was used as a public space for ‘sea baths’ in the 19th century and today exists as luxury housing projects under private ownership. The fifth case study involves an area that served as an airport in the early 20th century and is currently planned for a hospital and green spaces, although it remains a public service.Through these cases, which demonstrate the shift from the productional use of space to consumption, the study seeks to answer the following questions: First, how do demographic and economic changes play a significant role in the differentiation of urban space, and in a related context, what is the local-scale impact of changing policies on the functional change of the selected cases? The findings reveal that industrial investments, supported by transportation investments, choose their locations in the changing/transforming economic order. The decentralization of industry and the privatization or transformation of public investments into consumption-focused urban areas through public-private partnerships have also been observed. The study aims to prove that this change in space lays the groundwork for social differentiation.

Passion is intrinsic to political identity. A recent scientific study found that when political views are challenged, the regions in the brain associated with personal identity, threat response and emotions, become activated. The psychologist, Jonas Kaplan suggested that this is because political beliefs are important to identity and are part of our ‘social selves’ and when the brain considers something to be part of itself, it offers protection.1 Whilst the neurological explanations of the connections between passion and politics are relatively recent, the study of the role of emotions in politics has had a long trajectory. The key thinkers of western political thought including Aristotle, Plato, Hobbes and Kant argued it was important to understand emotion in order to ascertain the nature of government. These views influenced Alexander Hamilton, the US constitutionalist, who asked rhetorically, ‘Why has government been instituted at all? Because the passions of men will not conform to the dictates of reason and justice, without constraint.’2 For Kant, passions were ‘illnesses of mind’ and ‘cancerous sores’, incurable because the sick person does not want to be cured.3 In contrast, Cheryl Hall has a far more positive interpretation of Rousseau's views on the role of passion in politics suggesting that it was crucial for a democratic polity and should not be constrained by reason or the law, as Hamilton later argued.4 This volume will provide an insight into the various ways in which passion and politics intersected between the 16th and 20th centuries as well as proposing the potential for new perspectives on parliamentary history. The emerging literature on the history of emotions has largely focused on aspects such as feeling, the body, identity and technology but has been more reticent on the emotion attached to and embodied within institutions such as parliament. However, as the collected articles demonstrate, parliament, parliamentarians and parliamentary politics offer fertile ground for exploring emotions such as passion (as well as others including anger, jealousy, fear and happiness). The articles employ differing interpretations and new and often interdisciplinary methodological and theoretical approaches including visual, spatial and material culture, physiological and culturally constructed responses, performativity and intersectionality. The authors draw upon a rich and diverse source base encompassing architecture, personal testimony, petitions and declarations, satire, music, sound, architecture and objects. The culmination of this research provides exciting and novel ways to interpret the history of parliament and parliamentary politics. But notwithstanding this, 'tis certain, that when we wou'd govern a man, and push him to any action, 'twill commonly be better policy to work upon the violent than the calm passions, and rather take him by his inclination, than what is vulgarly call'd his reason.5 Thus for Hume, in order to influence people, the most effective strategy is to agitate, to stir up fervour, rather than to appeal to reason. Hegel amplified this argument by stating that ‘nothing great in the world has been accomplished without passion.’6 Hegel's definition of passion was any activity regulated by self-interest because that was the main driver of change. These ideas have been developed by modern political scientists, most notably, George Marcus who has argued that passionate communication and the arousal of emotions are the essence of modern democratic politics. In his seminal work, The Sentimental Citizen: Emotion in Democratic Politics, he argued that passion is a prerequisite for the exercise of democratic reason.7 These methodological approaches have also been utilised by historians studying the impact of emotion on institutions and on public opinion. Feeling Political: Emotions and Institutions since 1789 considers how political bodies as diverse as the parliaments, criminal courts, military cemeteries and even football clubs were shaped and transformed by emotions.8 Women are creatures of impulse and emotion and did not decide questions on the ground of reason as men did… What did one find when one got into the company of women and talked politics? They were soon asked to stop talking silly politics, and yet that was the type of people to whom we were invited to hand over the destinies of the country.9 If, however, it be true that men have some advantage over women mentally, is there nothing to place on the other side of the account? Have not women more control over their passions? Do they not lead more regular lives? Are they not more sober?12 he believed that Irishmen would live together as amicably as it was possible for Irishmen to do if they were only left alone by those interested demagogues who lived by exciting the cupidity of the people and ministering to their worst passions… Government might play the Ultramontane part of disestablishing the Church of Ireland, they would not succeed thereby in inspiring the Irish peasantry with any feeling of order, loyalty, and respect for the laws. They were only swayed by their own passions and interests. The difference between the native Irishman and the Saxon was this—that Irishmen always allowed their interests to be injured by giving way to their passions, whilst the others always made their passions subordinate to their interests.13 Thus passion was a term that could be applied pejoratively to ostracise and diminish the political contributions of those on the margins of political life, whilst being used positively by those in power. John Bright and William Gladstone were both eulogised as demagogues for their ability to touch people emotionally, with their meetings and rallies often likened to religious occasions. Belchem and Epstein in their assessment of the ‘gentlemanly’ political leader, echo Rousseau, seeing the Liberal platform as being the means by which ‘the people triumphed over injustice, felt their own sense of empowerment and found a place within the political world as citizens.’14 This volume celebrates interdisciplinarity and its contributions draw on a range of approaches and methodologies; however, the history of emotions, one of the fastest growing fields of historical research, features predominantly. Its diverse application to an assortment of topics, periods, and primary sources in the articles by Berry-Waite, Hanley-Smith, Kilfoyle, Love, and Stewart demonstrate the field's versatility and its potential to shed new light on political and parliamentary culture. Historians of emotion generally agree that emotions are historically and culturally determined rather than ‘biological universal[s]’, and therefore different groups have named and experienced them in their own distinctive ways.15 What remains a constant is that emotions play important roles in social interactions, as they are ‘performed’ both through linguistic and written expression, and/or through physical gestures and appearance. Moreover, these performances (intentionally and unintentionally) stimulate bodily and psychological activity in their audience.16 Several articles in this special issue demonstrate contemporary attempts to harness and manipulate emotions to achieve political objectives, whether in person, in personal/private correspondence, in publications and newspapers, or through the use of objects. Emotions clearly provide a particularly fruitful lens through which various types of historical communication can be analysed and allow scholars to explore the connections between everyday interactions, objects, experiences, and culturally determined power and gendered dynamics. The field is renowned for its preference for theoretical frameworks, as its pioneers developed and coined concepts that scholars regularly draw on to make sense of this often chaotic and unsystematic world of feeling, including among others, ‘emotional communities’, ‘regimes’ and ‘refuges’, ‘styles’, ‘strategies’, ‘practices’, and, most recently, ‘templates’.17 Due to the plethora of appropriate source material, the history of emotions has been most readily used by scholars investigating topics such as familial and social relationships, gender, and the body. That said, it has been very effectively employed by some to better understand significant political shifts and events, including wars and revolutions.18 In his influential study, The Navigation of Feeling, William Reddy uses his concept of the ‘emotional regime’, to explain how emotion was integral to the overthrow of the French monarchy.19 For Reddy, the stability of a political system depends in part on its ability to shape and regulate the emotions of the people it governs, to engender the emotions that sustain it, and to prohibit those that do not. He argues that the strict expectations and regulation of emotional expression in Ancien Régime France, which peaked during the reign of Louis XIV, led to the development of a counterculture that celebrated sincerity and passion, and eventually became widespread enough to enable certain groups to critique and challenge the establishment. The injustice of their situation inspired real passion in the people and drove them to act and overhaul their oppressive political (and emotional) system. Several of the articles in this issue similarly reveal that political passion inspired a range of historical actors to critique and condemn the status quo, to imagine and design new systems, and in some cases, to take drastic action. Despite a strong historiographical interest in the relationship between politics and emotion, parliament as an institution has received markedly little attention from historians of emotion. And yet research on other legislative and governing institutions has proved that a focus on emotions can significantly improve our understanding of their norms of conduct, their underlying dynamics, and their position within the broader socio-political sphere.20 As Ute Frevert and Kerstin Pahl have recently argued, institutions are important sites that provide ‘guidelines for their members on how to feel and navigate emotions’, and teach ‘them which to express and which to eschew, at what intensity and through which kinds of behaviour’.21 Moreover, a range of institutions enable and encourage ‘political participation’.22 Parliament, then, as arguably the most important political institution in Britain, deserves its turn under the emotional lens. Did the emotional culture of parliament experience any significant shifts in line with the growing enfranchisement of the British people in the 19th and 20th centuries? What sort of emotional expressions were expected, encouraged, and eschewed by MPs? Did they vary depending on which House they were expressed in? How did the regulation of emotions affect parliament's gendered, class, and racial dynamics? Not all of these questions can be answered in this volume, however, Hanley-Smith's article demonstrates how aristocratic mistresses might have influenced the emotional culture of parliament by advising young MPs on how they should present themselves when addressing the House, while Berry-Waite's piece reveals that concerns about women's supposedly passionate tempers and emotional sensibilities were central to 19th-century debates about their suitability as MPs. Broadening out our investigation beyond parliament itself to explore the roles that emotions played in extra-parliamentary discussions about citizenship, ongoing debates and reform, reveals that many contemporaries who never set foot in the Palace of Westminster were extremely passionate about the business that went on in there. This issue seeks to redefine parliamentary history, by focusing on the people that we do not conventionally associate with the formal business of parliament, but who were clearly engaged with and participated in parliamentary culture in a myriad of ways. This includes the disenfranchised, women from all ranks of society, and working-class men, as well as political journalists and commentators, leading radicals, and campaigners. Despite their physical distance from the mechanisms of power, this diverse array of subjects still aspired to affect change and promote political reform: some restrained and channelled their passions in a way that could not be deemed threatening by the establishment, while others, such as the Cato Street conspirators, who are examined in this issue by Caitlin Kitchener, allowed their fury to carry them to revolutionary action. The articles are arranged broadly chronologically and cover a period spanning from the early 17th century up to the early 20th century. All take the concept of ‘passion’ as their starting point to study a range of topics that can be broadly categorised into three themes with some overlap: the various roles and opportunities for female engagement in the political and parliamentary worlds, the full spectrum of political radicalism, and the forms and spaces in which (extra-)parliamentary debate and discussions occurred. As one might expect, this broad range of subjects highlights the diverse source material that political historians are able to draw upon to engage with the history of parliament and political participation, including architecture, personal correspondence, petitions, publications, satire, and objects. This volume begins with an examination of a long-drawn out dispute that occurred between parliamentary officials and rumbled on for almost 40 years. Kirsty Wright's article recontextualises the late 16th-century ‘War in the Receipt’ by placing the dispute over administrative practices within its physical context in the Palace of Westminster; she argues that the feud was not solely personal but was political. The exchequer is not often viewed as a site of political activity, yet as Wright demonstrates, it was fundamentally tied to the mechanisms of the government. She analyses a range of material, including exchequer documentation, architectural records, and the personal papers of a number of the quarrellers, which enables her to demonstrate the agency of otherwise unknown individuals in influencing institutional reform. Her subjects, including Chidiock Wardour, clerk of the pells, and the auditor of the Receipt, Robert Petre, expressed strong opinions about how their offices should function, and they passionately challenged any rulings that they did not agree with. Her article gives us a fascinating insight into the intimate and ‘messy realities’ of everyday administration that was undertaken by mid-ranking government officials. It demonstrates the importance of space in shaping working relationships and reveals how the architecture of the Palace of Westminster, the locations and layouts of its office spaces, could inspire passionate feeling: space orchestrated interactions, exposed hierarchies, and created opportunities for surveillance and accusations of corruption. Wright's article thus demonstrates how passionate arguments between parliamentary officials, which can often be disregarded, had big implications for patronage, office holding, power and influence. Amy Galvin's article propels the volume forwards into the late 18th century by examining the evolution of women's writings on citizenship over a century. Galvin draws on the published works of Mary Wollstonecraft, Barbara Leigh Smith Bodichon, Harriet Taylor, and Frances Power Cobbe, among others, to support her argument that a distinctly female understanding of citizenship developed over the course of the long 19th century and predated the official women's suffrage movement considerably. The idea of a political female identity was controversial, and many of these women faced criticism and hostility for publicising their opinions, however their passionate conviction that their words might have the power to ameliorate the legal and social status of their sex encouraged them to ‘pick up their pens’ and be bold and defiant. This ‘female’ concept of citizenship was not merely theoretical; writers emphasised its tangibility by centring it on (female) notions and experiences of honour, marriage, education, employment, local and municipal politics, and, of course, parliamentary representation and the franchise. Moreover, Galvin demonstrates the centrality of the space of parliament to discussions of female citizenship by examining how women lobbied parliament with formal petitions, and how they conceived of its power over their lives, which was manifested by its role as the place where the laws that were imposed on them were made and the social and cultural institutions that shaped their lives was upheld. Natalie Hanley-Smith's article continues to look at women's engagement with parliament but in ways that were more subtle, and as a result, have often been overlooked. She examines the letters that Lady Henrietta Ponsonby, Countess Bessborough sent to her lover, Lord Granville Leveson Gower, to gain insights into the connections between parliamentary politics, aristocratic society, and intimacy in the late Georgian period. Drawing on methodologies from the history of emotions, Hanley-Smith explores the versatile role of the political mistress, a position fulfilled by several aristocratic women in the late Georgian period, who simultaneously held the titles of wife and mistress to different MPs. The case study is of particular interest because of the unconventional dynamics that existed between the two lovers: by time their affair began in the mid-1790s, the countess had been embroiled in Whig party operations for around 15 years. In contrast, Leveson Gower, who came from a Tory family, was just beginning his parliamentary career, and gave his maiden speech in 1798. The countess was more experienced in (extra-)parliamentary culture than her lover, which invested her with a limited degree of authority that allowed her to advise him on how to present himself in the house of commons and how to manage his in the early of his parliamentary She was also very passionate about politics and held very different opinions to Leveson on many that were in parliament in the late and her discussions of their demonstrate her and the range of she had at her to navigate Hanley-Smith reveals that Bessborough a of and loyalty, that was used by aristocratic to her political and present it in a to Leveson Caitlin examines the that the Cato Street and the public of its in by their for the of the a of a to the Lord and to his while they were at The was because the had from the Street who the where the were to their article explores how both the and the were in culture for a range of who were all of the most unconventional to in this volume, draws on to interpret this in history and argues that the culture the Cato Street allowed the public to engage with radicalism, and in a but in They reveal that the was a site of public and became a for but that it was also with were between the as a place where men had to political and to that to be for the of the and parliament This idea of the as the site of an parliament is in George which provides an for the cover of this with a of of the bodies of the radicals, which they as for the which not to that the bodies themselves might act as for at a time when they felt it was crucial to The about the threat of also in article about the that were to members of the in the to the other of the spectrum than that by subjects, examines how material culture was used effectively by the to regulate and to it into forms of She on the of which several in and explores how they part of a culture that the used to a of to support and support for the The in their being made in and in order to within the while giving a sense of and a to its argues that the as a of the politics of the and its leader, views on political were more than one might The were to in their working-class members a particular type of one that was and and that they could was of the full of article provides a significant to the field of and working-class politics, which is often in from the history of parliament. The focus shifts from the working to expressions of political and in article on the She examines that were published in and how (extra-)parliamentary discussions were beyond journalists were far from the and of the and they their with the of social and political reform. passion was and inspired and their at the and of the political them to up their to their In of this, their political has often been in the because of their as played important roles in contemporary political and allowed authors to in a that their and writings were and were to political and in their the importance of passion in not only did emotion her subjects into action, but their upon their ability to inspire emotional in their In many journalists to Galvin's female they were to to the of their political and their publications them with the to their article also the political power of she examines the Irish a that was by women who were on their as and A place in at the time as the in the which was by the British government in The women's emphasised their to support their which has led scholars to the as a that women's roles as to In contrast, Stewart argues that the lens of passion reveals that the was a and and demonstrates that the women were political in their own to the movement encouraged women to and and them a way to express their Moreover, their to the the of Irish women in the early 20th century. Stewart that the act of their made these women political but many to about their to the of their Love, Stewart also considers the of her source and how its diverse engaged with it and constructed She that many Irish women were more invested in the than they were in the for women's and that their members of the women's suffrage including the as they believed the women's subordinate and position in the of politics. Berry-Waite's also highlights within the women's Her which this volume, examines debates and of women MPs the of was in was to allow women to in parliament, the for women's however, the idea was in parliament in the late 19th century. Drawing on a range of primary sources by and both the suffrage and argues that women's supposedly passionate nature was used to their political and to their and physical to She ‘passion’ at its sense and considers how gendered discussions of a range of emotions, including and anger, were employed to opinions about women's or to in parliament. She explores the issue by the parliamentary of as a case Taylor, who was the of Harriet as the for in the Her did from both the and the suffrage a controversial, and to her on the of a legal and her discussions about the of female representation in parliament. Hanley-Smith's countess expressed her political passions but the countess she had more to own her political just under a century she had to in a where women were only to be The of Women a point for a volume that has emphasised the and of women's in political and parliamentary culture in that was to and to the passionate of a social are of gendered and in the of the articles we and which we have historically are to both of these concerns because we feel it is the to are by the work of the on gender, and article from all and encourage people from This is an by the of and this special issue is to their to to

Ingres’s portrait of Louis-François Bertin (1832) has been universally accepted as a visual “apotheosis” of the newly powerful early 19th-century bourgeoisie in France. Here, we study the inconsistencies and contestation which contributed to this identification. Beginning with the moment of its first public exhibition in the 1833 Paris Salon, this article traces Bertin’s evolving reputation as an image of its epoch, focusing on its reappearance in public first at the Bazar Bonne-Nouvelle in 1846, and then in the display of Ingres’s works at the Exposition Universelle of 1855. This leads to a critical assessment of how the picture’s role as a political emblem has been related to later assertions that it also exemplified the artist’s incipient modernism. The exhibition of works by Ingres at the Paris Salon d’Automne in 1905 allows us to take stock of claims made about the picture’s status in the early 20th century. However, in contrast to the habitual desire to modernise Ingres (and thereby to detach him from a lingering taint of academicism), this article argues that a key element in the reception of Ingres’s portrait in the second half of the 19th century is a recognition of its rootedness in values emanating from the Revolution of 1789, embodied both in the person of LouisFrançois Bertin and Ingres’s representation of him.