Men Of Substance Research Articles

El círculo de los Gálvez: Formación, apogeo y ocaso de una elite de poder indiana

El círculo de los Gálvez: Formación, apogeo y ocaso de una elite de poder indiana

Kenneth Clark Butler (1939–2018)

Kenneth Clark Butler (1939–2018)

Abu Muslim Al-Khurasani: The Legendary Hero of Abbasid Propaganda

This paper narrates the events of Abu Muslim al-Khurasani’s inglorious life. Loved by some and feared and hated by others, Abu Muslim proved to be a man of substance, throughout his life. The paper begins with the introduction, detailing about how he came into play, during disputes with the Umayyad caliphate. It goes on to discussing conflicting views about Abu Muslim’s origin, how one believes him to have come from a prestigious lineage, while the other considers him merely a slave boy, with lucky stars. Following Abu Muslim’s background is a discussion of his contributions in the Abbasid propaganda, which led to a series of events, which eventually led to the worst massacre in all of Khurasan history, the end of the Umayyad caliphate and the birth of the Abbasid caliphate. The paper goes on to discussing Abu Muslim’s tenure as the governor, in the Khurasan, which despite of racial and religious differences, turned out to be a good example of his role, in history. This also led to a difference of opinion with other ruling parties, including his conflict with The Abbasid. Because of this conflict, Abu Muslim made a lot of enemies, which resulted in others rebelling and propagating against him, which eventually took his life.

CATHERINE GIMELLI MARTIN, Milton among the Puritans: The Case for Historical Revisionism.

THIS book is based on a simple claim. Contrary to ‘long-standing assumptions still widely held in the academic community, Milton was not a Puritan’. These assumption are maintained because literary critics rely on the now discredited historical thesis of the ‘Puritan Revolution’ (xi), unaware of the revisionist historiography that is ‘largely neglected in Milton studies’ (5). Catherine Gimelli Martin’s first chapter rectifies this, and challenges the ways in which Puritanism has been simplified and liberalized by historians and critics. Martin, whilst accepting that ‘Milton certainly sustained a career among the Puritans’, argues ‘he was probably never of them’. More radical figures may have admired him, but he did not admire them: ‘in the end, he was alienated from a Puritan regime whose “insanities” and other “crimes” he found “worthier of silence than of publication” ’ (quoting the Complete Prose Works 7: 515). So, Milton was not a Puritan. In the view of Martin, this seems a rather good thing, because Puritans are characterized as despairing, fanatical, and intolerant (or ‘negative, anxiety-producing, repressed’ in the words of revisionist John Morrill, 15). Instead, Martin’s Milton is progressive and secular, one of the ‘religious rationalists’ (25). His century is one of contingency rather than ideology, reluctant reformers rather than radical revolutionaries, a view shared by W. K. Jordan in 1942, whom Martin quotes admiringly: ‘The trend of constitutional development in England was determined by compulsive historical events which theorists influenced only very slightly’ (26, from W. K. Jordan, Men of Substance: A Study of the Thought of Two English Revolutionaries, Henry Parker and Henry Robinson (Chicago, 1942, p.141).

Key role of the molecular autopsy in sudden unexpected death

Sudden Cardiac Death (SCD) is a major and tragic complication of a number of cardiovascular diseases. While in the older populations, SCD is most frequently caused by underlying coronary artery disease and heart failure, in those aged under 40 years, the causes of SCD commonly include genetic disorders, such as inherited cardiomyopathies and primary arrhythmogenic diseases. As part of the evaluation of families in which SCD has occurred, the role of genetic testing has evolved as an important feature in both establishing an underlying diagnosis and in screening at-risk family relatives. Specifically, in cases where no definitive cause is identified at postmortem, i.e. Sudden Unexpected Death (SUD), the "molecular autopsy" has emerged as a key process in the investigation of the cause of death. The combination of clinical and genetic evaluation of families in which SUD has occurred provides a platform for early initiation of therapeutic and prevention strategies, with the ultimate goal to reduce sudden death among the young in our communities.

Recovering Public Memory: Politics, Aesthetics and Contempt

It's the weekend – leisure time. It's the interlude when, Guy Debord contends, the proletarian is briefly free of the 'total contempt so clearly built into every aspect of the organization and management of production' in commodity capitalism; when workers are temporarily 'treated like grown-ups, with a great show of solicitude and politeness, in their new role as consumers.' But this patronising show turns out to be another form of subjection to the diktats of 'political economy': 'the totality of human existence falls under the regime of the 'perfected denial of man'.' (30). As Debord suggests, even the creation of leisure time and space is predicated upon a form of contempt: the 'perfected denial' of who we, as living people, really are in the eyes of those who presume the power to legislate our working practices and private identities.

Health Disparities and Incarcerated Women: A Population Ignored

I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.… When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination—indeed, everything and anything except me. Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man Although Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man (1952) was written to chronicle the plight of one who was both Black and American, the quotation above might also describe the feelings of incarcerated populations, particularly incarcerated women, in the United States. Incarcerated women are largely African American; thus, many of them bear the quadruple burden of their race/ethnicity, class, gender, and status as a criminal offender. That being Black, being female, being poor, and being a criminal offender confers serious health risks is clear. Because incarcerated women are “invisible,” there has been little in the way of research and policy development that would advance their health status. Thus it is no surprise that for the most part, the health of incarcerated women is worse than that of incarcerated men and than that of women in the general population.1

SH11 THE MEDIEVAL ENGLISH CORONER

The office of Coroner is a uniquely English institution. Scotland never had coroners. England exported her Coroner to almost everywhere coloured red in the Victorian atlas. The first mention of the Coroner dates from the reign of Alfred the Great. We have no records of that period.The Coroner, as we know him today, dates from September 1194, during the reign of Richard the Lionheart whose interest in England was as a source of money to help finance his obsession with warfare.Much of today’s English legal structure was born in the last decade of the 12th century. The edict that formally established the Coroners was Article 20 of the “Articles of Eyre” in September 1194. In 1195, Justices of the Peace were established. Ironically, they became the major reason for the decline of the Coroner in later centuries.Coroners originally had to be Knights and men of substance. They were unpaid. Their prime function was to service the Royal Courts of Law, the General Eyre, which circulated slowly around the kingdom. This took so long to return to each county that, unless careful records were kept by the coroners, many cases never came to trial and potential revenue was lost to the Crown.Other activities of the Coroner includes jurisdiction over “treasure troves”, shipwrecks and catches of royal fish: the whale and the sturgeon. Historically, his most important role, the only one to survive until today, was his role in the investigation of sudden death.

White Negro: Jeff Wall's Uncle Tom

'I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor I am one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me'. Such are the first words of Ralph Ellison's novel, Invisible Man, which was published in New York in 1952. These few words say it all. It is a man who speaks. And who says I. The novel starts with I. It is written in first person, where I comes before all the rest, even before the fact of being invisible (although he is only invisible to the eyes of others). The text is clear: this man is first a subject (of language) before he becomes an object (of vision or non-vision). The imaginary and the symbolic cannot be disassociated. For good reason. They nullify neantisent one another as one denies the other. Or to be more specific, in Lacanian terms, it is the other, the big Other in capital letters (you and me), who denies the one the speaking subject, or rather the writing subject (the narrator): he (we) does not see it. This denial of the gaze is a denial of existence. We do not know the cause. Not yet. What is not stated in Ellison's Prologue, which Jeff Wall chose to illustrate (1999-2000) is that the invisible man is a black man (Fig. 28). We might deduce it from various allusions scattered through the text. This blackness only becomes explicit in the following pages: in the core of the narrative. Everybody knows Ellison's novel, which was, in his time, a cultural event: both a racial manifesto and a cult book. It relates the adventures of a

Health Disparities and Incarcerated Women: A Population Ignored

I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.… When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination—indeed, everything and anything except me. Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man Although Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man (1952) was written to chronicle the plight of one who was both Black and American, the quotation above might also describe the feelings of incarcerated populations, particularly incarcerated women, in the United States. Incarcerated women are largely African American; thus, many of them bear the quadruple burden of their race/ethnicity, class, gender, and status as a criminal offender. That being Black, being female, being poor, and being a criminal offender confers serious health risks is clear. Because incarcerated women are “invisible,” there has been little in the way of research and policy development that would advance their health status. Thus it is no surprise that for the most part, the health of incarcerated women is worse than that of incarcerated men and than that of women in the general population.1

Thales of Miletus: The Beginnings of Western Science and Philosophy (review)

Reviewed by: Thales of Miletus: The Beginnings of Western Science and Philosophy Kevin Robb Patricia F. O’Grady . Thales of Miletus: The Beginnings of Western Science and Philosophy. Aldershot, England: Ashgate, 2002. Pp xxii + 310. Paper, $84.95. This book has a consistent thesis: Thales of Miletus was the first Western scientist and philosopher not just for what he began, but for what he himself said (or, as O'Grady believes, wrote). On this view, Thales made significant contributions to metaphysics ("He asked the question: 'What is real?' no less than Plato and Aristotle did," 249), cosmology (on the earth and earthquakes, 87 ff.), astronomy (notably the eclipse, 126 ff.), mathematics (Proclus attributes Euclidean theorems to Thales, 191 ff.), psychology (on psyche) and theology (on "full of the gods," 108 ff.). O'Grady's thesis is that we know enough about Thales' thoughts in these areas (each a treacherous minefield of scholarly dispute, as O'Grady admits) that, after a clarified understanding of "Scientificity and Rationality" (her awkward title for Chapter 11), we can confidently conclude that philosophy and science were well begun by Thales. "I believe I have drawn a clear and detailed picture of a brilliant, veracious, and courageously speculative Greek. I see him as a questioner of almost everything, an investigator of nature . . .Thales is not the mere shadowy figure of Guthrie's perception. He is a man of substance, a man of distinction and of lasting importance" (251). O'Grady had early noted that W. K. C. Guthrie considered Thales a shadowy figure historically, made all the more so, Guthrie believed, because the legend kept expanding. For example, a sixth-century Thales as the seeker after the material archê, and so the first important physikos, is unknown before fourth-century Aristotle's Metaphysics Alpha, and by the time Euclidean theorems are attributed to Thales the tendency to foist imposing discoveries on famous persons was prevalent. This raises the major issue concerning O'Grady's exhaustively researched book. To what extent can the doxographic sources (the "A" sections of Diels's 1903Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker), be used to interpret the Presocratics, especially if the original wording from a thinker perished (any "B" section quotations). It is clear that in the fourth century nothing in writing from Thales survived for the Lyceum to read and catalogue although its scholars clearly sought it; the repeated legetai ("it is said") of Aristotle in Metaphysics Alpha and elsewhere is decisive. It is his standard way of indicating that no written work on the matter survives to be consulted, but stories or oral accounts do. O'Grady's thesis requires that the "A" section material be exploited fully, especially to present Thales as a philosopher (29-70). Many historians will be unwilling to take the entire journey with her. Some (Harold Cherniss) would balk at the first step. The demand for confirming ipsissima verba (or "B" quotations) to reconstruct the thought of any Presocratic with real confidence (as once proposed by G. S. Kirk) threatens to exclude Thales from histories of philosophy, an unsatisfactory result. Even so, Harold Cherniss proposed that drastic solution in 1935 in his magisterial Aristotle's Criticism of Presocratric Philosophy. Presocratic philosophy, he argued, should begin with Anaximander (375). The heart of Cherniss's numbingly exhaustive argument (400 + pages) was that Aristotle's purpose in surveying his predecessors's views was never historical, but dialectical. His intent was to argue for a fourfold causality (on the grounds only four archai had been turned up by all his predecessors, starting with Thales' material cause), and to fit those predecessors's views into a theory of natural causality as he had finally formulated it in his sophisticated, [End Page 107] largely technical vocabulary. Aristotle's "historical" notices on which all later accounts must depend were, thus, never history; the problem and the solution, along with their language, were Aristotle's alone. If Theophrastus paraphrased what he found in Aristotle (McDiarmid), and if the post-Aristotelian doxographic notices were largely dependent on Theophrastus (so already Diels in 1879, in Doxographi Graeci), then any attempt to extract a philosophical Thales from the later doxographic sources (or Aristotle) is methodologically doomed from...

The Conquest of Labor: Daniel Pratt and Southern Industrialization

The Conquest of Labor: Daniel Pratt and Southern Industrialization. By Curtis J. Evans. (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2001. Pp. 337. Illustrations. $49.95.) Daniel Pratt, a New Hampshire carpenter's apprentice, sailed to Georgia in 1819 seeking work that would help pay his master's debts. Pratt succeeded and then returned to set up shop in the new capital, Milledgeville. By 1827, the transplanted Yankee become a man of substance and a slaveholder, a development he defended to his father with the commonplace evasion that he had brought no man to bondage (7). Pratt relocated to Alabama in the flush times of the 1830s. There he erected a cotton gin factory and cotton mill in an Autauga County village that would bear his name. By 1860, this sixth-generation New Englander manufactured more gins than anyone in America and owned more than a hundred slaves. He shed his ambivalence about the peculiar institution, as evidenced by several proslavery letters sent to New Hampshire newspapers. His reputation crystallized as a northern man who embraced southern culture and a Whig who urged industrialization aided by publicly-- financed banks, internal improvements, and railroads. Elected to the Alabama legislature in the secession winter, Pratt went with his adopted state and supported the Confederate war effort after his cooperationist views were rejected. After the Civil War, an aging Pratt lent his prestige to the creation of the iron industry in Birmingham before his death in 1873. Throughout, Pratt championed education, the arts, and the cause of temperance in much the same manner of contemporary factory owners in New England. Curtis J. Evans offers his account of the life of Daniel Pratt less as a biography than as an examination of the town, businesses, and public policies that Pratt sponsored. Evans wants to revisit questions that have been on southern historians' agendas since the days of Rupert Vance and Broadus Mitchell: Was the antebellum South hostile to industrialization and urbanization? If so, did such hostility arise from the political domination of planters who rejected an emerging world of bourgeois culture, a la Eugene Genovese? Was putative opposition to state-supported industrial capitalism immutable or was it giving way to new ideas in the 1850s, per J. Mills Thornton's assessment in Politics and Power in a Slave Society (1978)? Finally, what was the tenor of public culture in a southern mill town like Prattville, vis-a-vis such supposedly northern developments as reform movements focused on education or temperance? Evans's analytic framework implicitly regards rural industrialization and its accompanying social evolutions of New England or Mid-Atlantic towns as the norm for the middle third of the nineteenth century. Evaluating what happened in Prattville as comparable, Evans asks whether the town represents a genuinely southern-inspired counterpart or should instead be viewed as an alien growth imported by Pratt and maintained solely by his zeal. …

Blindspots: A Response to Constas and Colyn

I am an invisible man. ... I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard distorting glass. When they approach me, they see only my surroundIngs, themselves or figments of their imagination-indeed, everything and anything except me. [Ellison 1947:7]

Teaching Texas Politics: Sources and Texts

In Southern Politics written during the 1940s, V.O. Key, Jr. said that the lines of political division in ten of the southern states of the old Confederacy were drawn around the issue of race. Texas was the exception. “The Lone Star State,” Key wrote, “is concerned about money and how to make it, about oil and sulfur and gas, about cattle and dust storms and irrigation, about cotton and banking and Mexicans.” Unveiling his crystal ball, Key prophetized what this meant for the future: “in Texas the vague outlines of a politics are emerging in which irrelevancies are pushed into the background and people divide broadly along liberal and conservative lines. A modified class politics seems to be evolving, not primarily because of the upthrust of the masses that compels men of substance to unite in self-defense, but because of the personal insecurity of men suddenly made rich who are fearful lest they lose their wealth.” Key also had a word to say about an emerging two-party system in Texas.

The Social Origins of the French Episcopacy at the Beginning of the Seventeenth Century

Every French historian has come to know a bishop or two. Fighting Albigensians or Huguenots, condemning Joan of Arc or being condemned by the Revolutionary Tribunal, being shot on the barricades in 1848 or by the Commune in 1871, the bishops of France have been actively involved in the history of their country. Despite the great differences in character, life, and activity that the well known bishops have exhibited (some are even remembered as men of prayer), there is a tendency to have basically only one mental picture of a bishop: that of a man of substance (physical as well as economic, corpulent and opulent), and of a man of the status quo or the status quo ante. But if Richelieu, Bossuet and Fenelon were so different from one another, what of their less famous brethren, the more than one hundred men who at any given time in the ancien regime administered the dioceses of France and by virtue of their office were the religious leaders of their country? At different times, with different backgrounds and training, with different ideas and ideals, they were quite different in thought and action. Only rarely has an attempt been made to study the bishops of France as a whole. Individual bishops have their biographies, groups of reformers or political activists their books, but until more is known about ordinary bishops, the well known ones cannot be seen in context, and a vital element is missing in our understanding of the religious life of the ancien regime.

A Voice from below: Benjamin Boyce in South Australia, 1839-1846

The limits of history-from-below are very largely defined by the availability of literary sources. Working class documents, especially letters, of the early nineteenth century are rare. It may be that migration history will yield important documentation for working class life and mores. For a migrant in a new colony, even if only semi-literate, was almost bound to put pen to paper and to write home to his people. It was, virtually, a compulsory exercise,1 and represents one of the few moments when the working man would record his own thoughts, possi bly his view of the world, in a direct manner. Sadly it is the case that few of such letters have been collected together. In general, of course, the survival of historical materials favours the literate and wealthy, while most working class history is lost forever. Moreover most published collections of pioneers' memoirs and emigrants' letters con tain little material relating to the ordinary migrant?successful, middle class, men of substance, are well recorded in such collections,2 but there is absurdly little representation of the great masses of migrants who flooded out of Europe in the nineteenth century. Benjamin Boyce came from Freiston, Scrane End, near Boston, Lincolnshire on the migrant vessel, the Moffatt, which arrived in Adelaide in December 1839. Boyce appears to have joined the crew of the Moffatt without knowing its destination. He certainly had no notion of settling in South Australia. However, on board the Moffatt, he met the woman who was eventually to be his wife, an emigrant to South Aus tralia. Boyce jumped ship in Adelaide on Boxing Day 1839. His letters describe his fugitive existence in the outlying areas of Adelaide as a runaway sailor. A reward of ?2 was put on his capture and he lived on fish, presumably in a Crusoe-like fashion. When the Moffatt departed, Boyce left his hiding place and found employment on a dairy farm. After three months he began cutting hay on government land in Adelaide and selling it on his own account. But when competition increased he moved out of Adelaide to work in part nership with William Holland. Holland had served fourteen years as a convict in Van Diemen's Land after being transported to Australia from Boyce's village in Lincolnshire. He and Boyce worked at tree cutting and the erection of rough houses and fences in the Adelaide Hills. In nine months Boyce was able to save ?40. He then became involved in work at a grog shop. At one point he bought a pony cart and harness

Aristotle: the Growth and Structure of His Thought (review)

Book Reviews Aristotle: the Growth and Structure of His Thought. By G. E. R. Lloyd. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968. Pp. ix+324. $7.00) When one sees yet another book on the philosophy of Aristotle, one is entitled to ask, why has this book been written? The answer Lloyd gives to this question is, to provide an introductory study of Aristotle's thought which will be useful to undergraduates in philosophy and to that dwindling (if not mythological) class of interested laymen. Insofar as Lloyd has dealt with the variety of philosophical and scientific enterprises which Aristotle concerned himself with, he has satisfied his original intention . A secondary concern is to show the development of Aristotle's thought d la J. E. Raven's short work on Plato's Thought in the Making. As one might expect, Lloyd deals with the early influence of Plato on Aristotle and the gradual breaking away of Aristotle from this standpoint, especially in regard to his concern with empirical data, ta phainfmena, or the problematic opinions of men in general. The author divides his study into a brief discussion of the early writings of Aristotle, the development of the Lyceum (there is such a great deal of space spent on this subject that one wonders what kind of introductory students of Aristotle the author has in mind), the 'evolution' of Aristotle's fundamental presuppositions and metaphysical categories, the range of his interests, and discussions of most of his major works. While generally agreeing with Werner Jaeger's thesis concerning Aristotle's development , Lloyd holds that Jaeger's distinctions between Aristotle's dogmatism and his empiricism, his metaphysical concerns and his attention to research reveal an oversimplification of Aristotle's intellectual development. Although it is said (p. 41) that Aristotle adhered to Plato's theory of forms for only a relatively short period of time (since he rejected it in his early work On Forms), no mention is made of the account given of Plato's theory of forms in the Metaphysics, an account which stresses the concept of mathematical forms. The obvious discrepancy between the traditional accounts of the theory of the forms and Aristotle's delineation of it in the Metaphysics is rarely analyzed in Aristotelian studies even though it raises a number of questions about Aristotle's understanding of Plato, the nature of Plato's theory, or the evolution of the theory after Plato. At any rate, Lloyd provides a brief, but interesting, exposition of the development of Aristotle's thought in antagonism to Platonism. En passant, he makes some interesting comments about the notion of ousia. In ordinary Greek usage ousia meant wealth or property, consonant with the English usage, 'a man of substance'. However, Aristotle reversed the Platonic priorities by averring that substance in its primary sense meant 'this man', 'this individual'. A view diametrically opposed to the notion that invisible forms are prior to, and superior to, concrete particulars (pp. 52-53). Despite the brilliance of his analysis of the different modes of ousia, Lloyd quite rightly points out that the notion is ambiguous (e.g., matter is said [793 80 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY both to be and not to be ousia). The underlying paradox generated by Aristotle's view that particular beings are substances in the primary sense, but that knowledge (in the strictest sense) is of universal forms does, as Lloyd points out, lead to a fundamental problem in Aristotle's metaphysics. Unfortunately, the author has nothing illuminating to say about this problem. This is a persistent weakness in Lloyd's book: that is, everytime a serious problem is encountered in his analysis of Aristotle's thought he simply points to it and leaves the reader to work it out for himself. For this reason one will find little of interest in this study if one is looking for philosophical analysis. This might seem an unfair criticism of a book of this type, but it is legitimate if an author raises purely philosophical questions and not merely questions of textual accuracy. In regard to his biological studies, Lloyd maintains that Aristotle did not develop the concepts of form and matter or potentiality and actuality on the...

“Men of Substance and Deservedly Good Repute”: The Tasmanian Gentry 1856–1875

“Men of Substance and Deservedly Good Repute”: The Tasmanian Gentry 1856–1875

The Influence of Justus Lipsius on Juan de Vera y Figueroa's "Embaxador" (1620)

Almost thirty years ago M. Marcel Bataillon drew attention to the importance for Spain (as indeed for the rest of Europe) of the Neostoic movement whose great champion and leader was the Flemish humanist Justus Lipsius: ‘El neoestoicismo senalaba un renacimiento del humanismo filosofico. Por su afan de conciliar su fe moral con el cristianismo, fue un nuevo genero de Philosophia Christi. Justo Lipsio fue el nuevo maestro de este genero, a partir del momento en que, vuelto al redil del catolicismo, vino a ensenar en Lovaina.’ During Lipsius's own lifetime, of course, many Spanish scholars and men of substance, including Arias Montano, the Argensola brothers, Baltasar de Zuniga and the young Quevedo, corresponded with him, and the occasional, if often tangential, reference to his name in the literature of the early seventeenth century shows the extent to which he was known, suggesting that his influence had permeated far. However, little has yet been done to trace that influence, and the only study to date ...

Medical Students and Medical Sciences.

David Sinclair, M.A., M.D., is an anatomist working with the tutorial system at Oxford, England. He is unquestionably a teacher, whether we judge by his book, his publications on such matters as essay type examinations, or the fact that he was once sent on tour of some of the medical schools in this country to see what went on. He is also a man of substance, for he is about to leave the hallowed halls of Oxford, where stability would seem assured, if anywhere, for the unlaid bricks of Perth, Australia, where opportunity is certainly much greater than stability. Students and Medical Sciences gives observations backed by genuine interest and zeal in medical teaching rather than the claims of a man who presumes to have found the answers. There is no pretense, no tendency to defend any thesis ardently. A discursive book, Sinclair divides his fourteen chapters into four