Women, Race, and the Moravian Church in the Early Modern Atlantic World: Convert, Migrant, Missionary, written by Kelly Kaelin

Reviewed by: Slaves and Englishmen: Human Bondage in the Early Modern Atlantic World by Michael Guasco Heather Dalton Guasco, Michael, Slaves and Englishmen: Human Bondage in the Early Modern Atlantic World ( Early Modern Americas), Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014; cloth; pp. 328, 8 b/w illustrations; R.R.P. US $45.00, £29.50; ISBN 9780812245783. Although slavery was not legal in the English-speaking world until 1661 when Barbados and Virginia introduced the necessary legislation, English men, and indeed English women, had long been entangled in the practice. In Slaves and Englishmen: Human Bondage in the Early Modern Atlantic World, Michael Guasco sets out to investigate the nature of that entanglement and explore how the English thought, wrote about, and practised slavery from the mid-sixteenth to mid-seventeenth century. Guasco suggests that 'we have rarely devoted as much attention to the meaning of human bondage as we have to the origins of racial slavery in the early Anglo-Atlantic world' and that his book seeks to 'redress that oversight' (p. 5). He argues that ideas about slavery and a 'willingness to take advantage of human bondage' shaped English colonialism from the beginning (p. 5). This starting point — the beginning of English colonialism — means that Guasco concentrates, for the most part, on the late-sixteenth century onwards. Although he does refer to those English traders who experienced the fluidity of the late fifteenth- and early sixteenth-century Iberian Atlantic, he does not really explore their experiences or their influence back home. Nor does he look at the practices and influences of those slave-holding Genoese, Florentine, and Venetian merchants who resided in Southampton and London during the period and whose influence on local merchants is recorded in the guild and notary archives of England, the Low Countries, and the Iberian Peninsula. [End Page 210] Slaves and Englishmen focuses on ideas rather than practices. Guasco expertly illustrates the dichotomy faced by those English citizens willing to find out more about slavery and think through its moral implications. Not only had vestiges of serfdom survived into the sixteenth century, but both Christian and classical texts failed to provide clear-cut guidance. While the Old Testament could be read as 'a story of liberation', passages like Leviticus25.44–46 condoned slavery, as did sections of the New Testament. The classical texts read by learned English men and women were equally confusing: on the one hand extolling individual freedom while, on the other, condoning slavery as a natural state (pp. 15–18). The situation was further clouded by the fact that just as Englishmen were becoming familiar with slavery, and the enslavement of Africans in particular, they realized that they too could be enslaved — particularly in the Mediterranean, seen as an 'epicentre of bondage and captivity' (p. 56). By Elizabeth I's reign, conflicts between Protestants and Catholics and between England and Spain were increasingly seen as a battle between freedom and slavery. This 'fed into the notion that the English were, ipso facto, anti-slavery' (p. 21). However, while such a stance may have been popular in theory, it was hardly convenient in practice. Only those opportunistic Englishmen who demonstrated flexibility survived and prospered in the Atlantic world. This meant that while commentators claimed that England's invasion of Ireland would 'liberate the mass of poor, downtrodden Irish from a bondage that was imposed on them by their own lords' (p. 49), Englishmen sailing, fighting, and trading in the Atlantic were learning about and tolerating the idea of African slavery even before they embraced it (p. 68). They were integrating Africans into their households and businesses through conversion, servitude, and miscegenation, and were among the first to write about Africans in the Americas. Guasco's comment that these Englishmen were largely 'smugglers and pirates' (p. 86) is somewhat simplistic however, for during this period, divisions between merchant, trader, smuggler, and pirate were blurred and constantly shifting. Whatever their status, Englishmen tended to cohere to a smug rhetoric, which invariably characterized the Spanish as cruel colonizers and themselves as liberators. This meant that while Africans and indigenous Americans were being cast as allies, the geographer and writer Richard Hakluyt felt justified in...

This article is part of a History Compass cluster on ‘Rethinking Gender, Family, and Sexuality in the Early Modern Atlantic World’.The cluster is made up of the following articles:‘On Currents and Comparisons: Gender and the Atlantic ‘Turn’ in Spanish America’, Bianca Premo, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 223–237, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00658.x‘Women and Families in Early (North) America and the Wider (Atlantic) World’, Karin Wulf, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 238–247, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00659.x‘Family Matters: The Early Modern Atlantic from the European Side’, Julie Hardwick, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 248–257, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00660.xThe following essay originated as one of these three contributions to a roundtable discussion held at the 14th Berkshire Conference on the History of Women, June 2008. The roundtable, ‘Rethinking Gender, Family, and Sexuality in the Early Modern Atlantic World’, was meant to be as much invitation as inventory and was astonishingly well attended at 08:00 in the morning, with standing room only for a thoughtful, lively audience whose comments, questions, and suggestions are reflected here (although in no way fully represented). As historians of gender and family in the North Atlantic, European, and Iberian worlds, we had hoped to encourage more central and systematic attention to gender within the Atlantic World paradigm by cataloging some recent works in their fields and pointing the way for future studies. Yet, a funny thing happened on the way to the conference. Independently, each of us began to engage with the challenges of simply inserting family and gender into ‘the Atlantic’ as both as conceptual place and a historical practice. The essays that emerged, therefore, departed from conventional historiographies that survey the state of the field. Rather, these are theoretical and methodological reflections on the implications of de‐centering national and colonial narratives about the history of gender. At a time when transnational historical scholarship on early modern women promises to explode, these essays aim to inspire debate about the conceptual utility of the Atlantic as a paradigm for understanding issues of gender, family, and sexuality, as well as its ramifications for feminist scholarship everywhere.

This article is part of a History Compass cluster on ‘Rethinking Gender, Family and Sexuality in the Early Modern Atlantic World’.The cluster is made up of the following articles:‘On Currents and Comparisons: Gender and the Atlantic ‘Turn’ in Spanish America’, Bianca Premo, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 223–237, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00658.x‘Women and Families in Early (North) America and the Wider (Atlantic) World’, Karin Wulf, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 238–247, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00659.x‘Family Matters: The Early Modern Atlantic from the European Side’, Julie Hardwick, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 248–257, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00660.xThe following essay originated as one of these three contributions to a roundtable discussion held at the 14th Berkshire Conference on the History of Women, June 2008. The roundtable, ‘Rethinking Gender, Family, and Sexuality in the Early Modern Atlantic World’, was meant to be as much invitation as inventory and was astonishingly well attended at 08:00 in the morning, with standing room only for a thoughtful, lively audience whose comments, questions and suggestions are reflected here (although in no way fully represented). As historians of gender and family in the North Atlantic, European and Iberian worlds, we had hoped to encourage more central and systematic attention to gender within the Atlantic World paradigm by cataloging some recent works in their fields and pointing the way for future studies. Yet, a funny thing happened on the way to the conference. Independently, each of us began to engage with the challenges of simply inserting family and gender into ‘the Atlantic’ as both as conceptual place and a historical practice. The essays that emerged, therefore, departed from conventional historiographies that survey the state of the field. Rather, these are theoretical and methodological reflections on the implications of de‐centering national and colonial narratives about the history of gender. At a time when transnational historical scholarship on early modern women promises to explode, these essays aim to inspire debate about the conceptual utility of the Atlantic as a paradigm for understanding issues of gender, family, and sexuality, as well as its ramifications for feminist scholarship everywhere.

This article is part of a History Compass cluster on ‘Rethinking Gender, Family and Sexuality in the Early Modern Atlantic World’. The cluster is made up of the following articles: ‘On Currents and Comparisons: Gender and the Atlantic ‘Turn’ in Spanish America’, Bianca Premo, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 223–237, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00658.x ‘Women and Families in Early (North) America and the Wider (Atlantic) World’, Karin Wulf, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 238–247, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00659.x ‘Family Matters: The Early Modern Atlantic from the European Side’, Julie Hardwick, History Compass 8.3 (2010): 248–257, doi: 10.1111/j.1478‐0542.2009.00660.x The following essay originated as one of these three contributions to a roundtable discussion held at the 14th Berkshire Conference on the History of Women, June 2008. The roundtable, ‘Rethinking Gender, Family, and Sexuality in the Early Modern Atlantic World’, was meant to be as much invitation as inventory and was astonishingly well attended at 08:00 in the morning, with standing room only for a thoughtful, lively audience whose comments, questions, and suggestions are reflected here (although in no way fully represented). As historians of gender and family in the North Atlantic, European, and Iberian worlds, we had hoped to encourage more central and systematic attention to gender within the Atlantic World paradigm by cataloging some recent works in their fields and pointing the way for future studies. Yet, a funny thing happened on the way to the conference. Independently, each of us began to engage with the challenges of simply inserting family and gender into ‘the Atlantic’ as both as conceptual place and a historical practice. The essays that emerged, therefore, departed from conventional historiographies that survey the state of the field. Rather, these are theoretical and methodological reflections on the implications of de‐centering national and colonial narratives about the history of gender. At a time when transnational historical scholarship on early modern women promises to explode, these essays aim to inspire debate about the conceptual utility of the Atlantic as a paradigm for understanding issues of gender, family, and sexuality, as well as its ramifications for feminist scholarship everywhere.

Women, Race, and the Moravian Church in the Early Modern Atlantic World

At the time of the quincentennial commemoration of the Columbian voyages in 1992, historical scholarship on the Atlantic world revolved around the theme of "encounters." More recent research emphasizes the centrality of violence in the Columbian exchange. This article introduces the three following essays presented in this issue and analyzes the historical literature dealing with ethnic and religious violence in the early modern Atlantic world. Focusing particularly on the dynamics of captivity and atrocity, the author suggests that the patterns of violence developed in the early modern Atlantic world may have served as a model for the globalization of violence.

Reviewed by: Treating the Public: Charitable Theater and Civic Health in the Early Modern Atlantic World by Rachael Ball Ruth MacKay Rachael Ball. Treating the Public: Charitable Theater and Civic Health in the Early Modern Atlantic World. Louisiana State UP, 2016. 212 Pp. RECENT YEARS HAVE SEEN AN IMPORTANT TREND toward linking the Iberian Peninsula to its New World colonies and territories with the understanding that by crossing the ocean—in both directions, often multiple times—people, ideas, practices, and objects underwent transformations and were enriched and altered by contacts on either end. Rachael Ball’s book, her first, takes plays and theater troupes on this voyage, thus offering an original, intriguing, and entertaining way of tracking the survival and meaning of cultural practices. In addition to giving us a transatlantic look at theater, she adds two layers: the first is the link between theater and public health institutions or charity efforts, often run by religious confraternities; the second is a comparison between the Spanish experience and that of cities in England, Ireland, and Virginia. The theater scene in Madrid and throughout Spain, as is well known, was exciting, active, and raucous. No other European country could compare. Its deep bench of playwrights and entrepreneurs benefited from a unique arrangement between municipal entities and theater; as hospitals depended upon ticket sales to finance patient care and alms-giving, the theaters, though shut down now and again for health reasons or for royal mourning periods, were ensured a relatively secure livelihood, notwithstanding some vocal critics of this popular entertainment on moral grounds. The pairs of cities Ball presents for comparative purposes are Madrid and London, Seville and Bristol, Mexico City and Dublin, and Puebla and Williamsburg. At first glance these are fascinating pairings, seeming to offer a potential wealth of material and angles from which to better understand the two great Atlantic empires. The final chapter, the book’s strongest (it also appeared as an excellent article in Sixteenth Century Review [vol. 46, no. 3, 2015]), is thematic rather than geographic, looking at antitheatrical sentiment and writings in early modern Spain and England. The critical genre enjoyed considerable success in both [End Page 117] places, but precisely because Spanish theater was so firmly lodged in cities’ welfare structures, and also because the physical playhouses (the corrales) were often lodged in central locations and thus were guaranteed massive (and mass) attendance, moralistic warnings and rants did not do as well in the south, though Spanish polemicists could cite the ancients as eloquently as the British did when it came to bemoaning the sinfulness and depravity of the stage. Ball makes a point throughout the book of examining women’s role, and roles, in theater. In Spain they were on stage and off, behind the scenes, in the audience (separate from the men), and in front of the house. In England and its colonies, however, they were harder to find. The scandal of women’s presence, be it in the audience or on stage, was part of the impulse behind antitheatrical literature, which argued that loose morals incited the general decline of civility and politics. Ball further speculates that the spectacle of women at the theater also spurred an endless array of concerns over sexual identity and gendered behavior. In the wonderful words of Pedro de Guzmán (words that supplied Ball with the title to her above-mentioned article), public theater was “a cathedra of pestilence and the plague of the city” (142). Madrid’s theater scene is probably the richest of those Ball describes, and it is well known. Less known to this reviewer were the scenes in Mexico City and Puebla, which offer interesting and entertaining examples of how class and colonial relations were enacted within the confines of the theater, at times mirroring the metropolis, at times taking syncretic directions. Both Mexican cities continued the Spanish custom of linking theater and charity or health, and theater furthermore was one of the staging grounds of jurisdictional conflict, a longstanding peninsular tradition. Ball describes Mexico City’s precolonial tradition of religious spectacle and ritual, which was certainly theatrical; however, I’m not sure it tells us much about later commercial institutions...

Book Review| May 01 2016 Slaves and Englishmen: Human Bondage in the Early Modern Atlantic World Slaves and Englishmen: Human Bondage in the Early Modern Atlantic World. Guasco, Michael. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014328 pp., $45.00 (cloth); $45.00 (e-book) John Donoghue John Donoghue Search for other works by this author on: This Site Google Labor (2016) 13 (2): 90–91. https://doi.org/10.1215/15476715-3460888 Cite Icon Cite Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter LinkedIn MailTo Permissions Search Site Citation John Donoghue; Slaves and Englishmen: Human Bondage in the Early Modern Atlantic World. Labor 1 May 2016; 13 (2): 90–91. doi: https://doi.org/10.1215/15476715-3460888 Download citation file: Zotero Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search Books & JournalsAll JournalsLabor Search Advanced Search The text of this article is only available as a PDF. © 2016 by Labor and Working-Class History Association2016 Article PDF first page preview Close Modal Issue Section: Book Reviews You do not currently have access to this content.

Reviewed by: Detestable and Wicked Arts: New England and Witchcraft in the Early Modern Atlantic World by Paul B. Moyer Molly J. Farrell New England, witchcraft, occult crime, witch trials, witch panic, Hartford witch hunt, gender and witchcraft, devil paul b. moyer. Detestable and Wicked Arts: New England and Witchcraft in the Early Modern Atlantic World. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, Pp. xvi + 276. What if we attempted to understand the nature and contexts of witchcraft accusations in colonial New England outside of Salem? Paul B. Moyer's Detestable and Wicked Arts: New England and Witchcraft in the Early Modern Atlantic World places what the book defines more broadly as "occult crime" in a transatlantic context and focuses exclusively on the period before 1670. Stopping twenty-two years prior to the infamously exceptional witchcraft crisis in Essex county, Detestable and Wicked Arts looks across to England, and occasionally Bermuda, rather than forward to Salem for comparison and context. As a result, the book offers a detailed accounting of the first half century of reported incidents of witchcraft across colonial New England, proceeding methodically to present an overview of who the witches and their accusers were, of what precisely they were accused, and how the law [End Page 252] handled these reports. The book's frequent deployment of statistics—often putting demographic details about the accused in New England next to their contemporaries in England—is particularly helpful in making the book a resource for anyone interested in witchcraft in this distinctive time and place. Most of the time, as the book freely admits, the charts show that New England was not, in fact, all that distinctive but expressed many of the same fears and beliefs in many of the same ways as metropolitan communities. Occasionally, this transatlantic framework yields insights about, for example, the sources on which the New England Puritans were relying to understand and prosecute witchcraft. The book explains "the paucity of testimony concerning witch flight," for example, by the "more conservative stance" of the Protestant sources on the subject that New Englanders "imbibed" relative to continental sources. Similarly noteworthy, Moyer shows that husband and wife pairs were far more likely to be accused together in New England than anywhere else around the Atlantic and that, curiously, the "relative lack of children" of these married pairs of accused "[stands] out." Also, in this pre-Salem period, when compared with England and other colonies "New Englanders did not generally suspect the young as witches . . . or imagine the existence of witch families." Throughout, the book's discussions are accompanied by seventeenth-and eighteenth-century woodcut illustrations taken from English and continental sources on witchcraft, vivifying the ways that these figures and their malefic acts may have manifested in popular conceptions at the time. By compiling a comprehensive array of sources, data, and images from across these five decades, Detestable and Wicked Arts offers, like Moyer's previous books, a broad and multilayered portrait of the beliefs and practices of everyday settler colonists, shifting focus almost entirely away from colonial leaders, judges, printers, ministers, or other policymakers. Readers of a wide array of backgrounds who want to know who a New England witch was likely to be in the eyes of their peers or what they might be accused of—infesting their neighbor's cheese with maggots more often than flying by night to a large Satanic meeting, for example—will be provoked, intrigued, and entertained thanks to the book's uncomplicated prose and hospitable structure. The final two chapters are the strongest, and likely the most useful to those interested in witch-hunting across a wide array of time periods and locations. The book's sixth chapter, "Very Awful and Amazing," focuses in depth on how the Hartford witch hunt of 1662–1663, the largest in New England prior to Salem, spun out from the sudden sickening and death of a child from a humble family to ensnare many victims across the community, [End Page 253] ultimately resulting in fourteen accusations and four executions. The transatlantic focus is particularly helpful here in placing this hunt in the context of others in East Anglia and Bermuda and pointing out the...

The conference ‘Harmony of two worlds? Song, image and space in the early modern Atlantic world’, which was held 14–15 March 2008 at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, reconsidered many questions of cultural exchange from international and interdisciplinary perspectives. Sponsored by the University's Atlantic Studies Initiative, the conference organizers musicologist Louise Stein and historian David Hancock, sought to bring studies of music and visual arts into a larger conversation about the early modern Atlantic world between musicologists, and historians of art and architecture, anthropologists and historians from the United States, Spain, Mexico, Brazil and Canada. The opening session was held at the beautiful William L. Clements library, with Benjamin West's painting The death of General Wolfe looking over the shoulders of the participants and audience. Although the conflict between England and France in North America captured in the painting spotlights the accepted geography and periodization of Atlantic studies, scholars of the colonies of Spain have led the effort to assess cultural interaction between the New World and the Old. Some session titles set up hypothetical oppositions: ‘Spatial appropriation and misappropriation’, ‘Translation and mistranslation’, but perhaps more indicative of conference-long discussions were ‘Constructing cult, gender and race’ and the ‘Role of travel, discovery, and encounter’. A compelling array of images related to the arts, music and geography of the Americas enhanced many presentations and became reference points throughout the conference. Among music examples heard were an 18th-century Mexican composer's galant-style devotion to St Peter, liturgical settings by Brazilian ‘mulatto’ composers, a motet in the North American Abenaki language, and an aria for Montezuma by Vivaldi, abundant reminders that cultural influences indeed harmonized in two worlds.

Horses and other equines (notably donkeys and mules) were key driving forces in and around the early modern Atlantic world. As the breadth of scholarship demonstrates, equines were central to rival empire building, trade, warfare, labor, culture, and structures of power. Much of the scholarship on horses is inspired by the interdisciplinary nature of animal studies methodologies, which allows historians to think about the past across disciplines. Animal history, which is part of the broader posthuman turn, pushes back against traditional historical narratives that center human exceptionalism. By using an expansive definition of agency, this innovative scholarship has expanded the range of historical actors to foreground nonhuman animals. Amid the animal turn, specific animal subfields have emerged, including equine history, which focuses on the genus Equus, namely horses, donkeys, mules, and zebras. Within the academy, equine history has gained traction in recent years with dedicated animal history and equine history journals, book series, conferences, scholarly hubs, and networks. While there has been no definitive study of equines in the early modern Atlantic world, scholars have considered horses in specific Atlantic world contexts. The “animal turn” in history has pioneered innovative ways to center nonhuman animals in everything from global history to microhistory, social history to military history, and legal history to environmental history. The movement of horses around the Atlantic world was central to settler-colonialism and other systems of oppression. Consequently, equine historians study how horses intersected with structures of power, most notably in relation to gender, class, status, race, and enslavement. Scholars have focused on horses in specific contexts, such breeding practices, specific “types” or “breeds” of horses, and the role of horses in particular places such as the battlefield, city, and plantation. Horses were part of the everyday fabric of society, and they influenced cultural practices, art, and literary work, and contemporaries hotly debated issues of care and welfare. Understanding societies as pre-equine, equine, and post-equine allows scholars to reframe the early modern Atlantic world as the equine Atlantic world.

The English had the opportunity to serve an apprenticeship for technologies they desired in the early modern period on both sides of the Atlantic. In places such as London or Norwich highly mobile stranger artisans from northern continental Europe created the items for which the English had an appetite, whether sugar or clothes, saw mills or city docks. In the colonies the "darlings" who possessed the skills that the English envied were principally in New Netherland, records showing that they were from the same cultural group of northern continental Europeans who resided as guild strangers in English cities. Family reconstitution revealed the mobility of these skilled artisans in the Atlantic World. North American colonial documents provide a window through which to view when, how, or if, the English managed to acquire the skilled knowledge of cultural outsiders to produce what they coveted. Every examined case of an English appetite for a product or its means of production proved to possess features unique to the circumstances of the interaction between the English and those of another European culture practicing the skill. In most cases deep cultural differences limited the colonial English to hiring foreign experts, buying their products, or finding culturally acceptable sources of information such as the Scots. Occasionally artisans were hired directly from the continent of Europe using colonial middlemen. English citizenship was easier to obtain in the colonies than in England, offering a colonial back door to foreign craft practice that could re-cross the Atlantic to an English town or city. The problems that made England's apprenticeship so difficult became apparent when examining Atlantic World technology transfer and its barriers. There were distinct, deep cultural differences between the English and the northern continental Europeans in mobility, kinship systems, naming practices, family, language, inheritance patterns, views of women, craft practice and values, attitudes toward machines, and concepts of urban life. These acted as barriers to the transfer of technologies including higher craft skills, saw mills, and city building.

The chapter investigates the historical experience of early modern Atlantic monasticism by exploring the migrations of Catholic religious orders in the Atlantic world (Europe, Africa, and the Americas) between the sixteenth and early eighteenth centuries. The discussion is divided into three sections. The first explores the distinctiveness of monasticism in the early modern Atlantic basin. The second surveys the implantation of monastic institutions in the Atlantic world, underlining common traits and differences among monasticisms in both the Old and the New Worlds. The final section compares the Iberian and French female forms of the vowed life in the Atlantic world in the context of recent historiographical developments.

Households did not figure prominently in the early Atlantic migration to the Americas. The opportunity for innovation in household structure, given the ethnicities, economies, and colonial regimes involved, was great. Large portions of the Americas diverged from the prescribed patterns of marriage in the Western European empires that had laid claim to the territory. The potential for differing versions of the early modern American family can be grasped best by looking at how the population had evolved towards the end of the colonial period. This article explores household formation, lineage, and gender relations in the early modern Atlantic world, as well as differences in the household organisation of Atlantic migrants and Native Americans, household and land, and whether creole women's advantage can be attributed to an African woman's later age at birth of first child or her higher probability of being a sugar-field worker.

This essay examines the use of guaiacum and sassafras in the manuscript recipe collections of Grace Mildmay, Lady Mildmay (1552–1620). Although Milday is now a fairly well known seventeenth-century domestic medical practitioner, her recipes have not received significant scholarly attention. To trace the history of these two ingredients, which had great cachet in the early modern Atlantic world, the essay looks at the earliest European herbals, travel narratives, and medical texts that reported on the use of these plants as medicines by Taino and Timucua people in the Americas. The essay argues that when these ingredients appear in Mildmay's recipes, Indigenous knowledge remains the foundation for their use, persisting in the chopping, grating, and decocting techniques that the recipes detail. The English household emerges as a site in the Atlantic world where the violence of colonial contact intersects with the gendered hierarchies of knowledge framing English women’s medical practice.