This chapter argues that Darwin’s philosophical theory of emotion has been forgotten due to paradigm shifts in biology, psychology, and philosophy. These shifts have caused researchers to neglect associationist theories of emotions, including Darwin’s contributions to this school of thought. Having explained why Darwin’s philosophy was forgotten, I conclude by explaining why it should be remembered, given its relevance for contemporary emotions research.

That the Declaration of Independence could be considered from the perspective of rhetoric might seem rather obvious, if not downright self-evident. Even so, appreciating how Jefferson thought about language not as an abstract concept but as a lived and material practice can help us appreciate the text of the Declaration from different perspectives. The text is shot through with the histories of race, nation, empire, and belonging that characterized the ideology of American revolutionary republicanism, and with Jefferson’s thinking about these forces and his own anxious place in them. In fact, despite and perhaps even in part because of his own difficulties with public speaking, Jefferson thought about the ability to access and marshal rhetorical exemplars and put them to use in legal and political argument as an elemental part of what it meant to be an effective citizen. His thinking about material rhetoric, about the absorption of what one read through notes, commentary, and commonplace books, turns out to be a critical component of how he thought about the legitimacy of the American project and of how he framed that project in successive drafts of the Declaration itself.

This chapter presents a portrait of study and teaching at the Faculty of Arts in Paris during the first half-century of the university's existence: from enrolment under a master to obtaining a licence, entering the corporation of the Magistri Artium and, eventually, enrolment in one of the higher faculties (theology, canon law or medicine).

The Mendelssohns were active at a time of contestation and change within music aesthetics and broader aesthetic theory. As well as outlining how they positioned themselves in relation to some of the key issues and debates of their time, the chapter examines their continuing investment in Enlightenment and classical aesthetic ideals and how this interacted with their engagement with Romanticism. It also explores the extent to which moral and aesthetic criteria are entwined in their judgements of contemporary music, fuelling their hostility towards French grand opera, the programmatic orchestral works of Berlioz, and French virtuoso pianism. Their own compositions frequently function as music-aesthetic interventions, aiming to counterbalance trends in musical life that they viewed negatively. Crucial is a discussion of the conceptions of truth and emotion at the heart of Felix’s aesthetics, explored through a comparison of his views with those of Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel and Friedrich Schleiermacher.

It is well known that Ennius stands out among the early Roman writers by being active in a variety of literary (mainly poetic) genres. It is also obvious that there are clear distinctions in form and themes between the different types of works in line with their generic identity; at the same time, some stylistic features, motifs, and concepts may be observed in works assigned to different literary genres. This chapter explores such items in Ennius’ corpus and discusses the respective role of generic distinctions. Such a study contributes to identifying typical aspects of Ennius’ output as a whole as well as to describing specific generic manifestations.

As advocates for play, teachers need to have a clear definition of play, a model of play used to guide their practice and a theory of play that underpins their philosophy of teaching and learning. This chapter brings together insights gained about play from all the chapters in this book and invites you to take a position on your own philosophy of play. We then ask you to become an advocate for children’s play.

The first chapter provides a short survey of the language of joy as it is found in philosophical, theological and mystical works that have a strong bearing upon European medieval literature as a whole. It shows how some influential theoretical and mystical works shape a cognitive and conceptual language of joy as exterior to the self, a place of alterity that the human mind cannot contain within itself but must enter through love and self-forgetfulness. Through an exploration of some of the writings of St Augustine, Boethius, Thomas Aquinas and Bernard of Clairvaux, I argue that this language is constructed in opposition to that of philosophical happiness which consists in self-sufficiency and intellectual contemplation. The chapter ends with a study of the mystic Marguerite Porete’s language of divine union as an entering of the sea of joy, which blends the monastic and courtly discourses of love.

This chapter reflects on a few crucial terms such as locality and exteriority, arguing from the standpoint that the force of African literature lies in its call to interrogate the very idea of the global and local. Commenting briefly on the early works of two African writers, Chinua Achebe and Assia Djebar, it shows how African literature poses questions about the type of world-making that is underway, namely, who are the beneficiaries and losers in the making and remaking of conceptions of “worldliness”? The essay also speculates on conceptual and theoretical flashpoints that emerge from the encounter between notions of African literature and world literature taken as separate entities. In attempting to recharacterize the theoretical assumptions of “worldliness,” it highlights African writing’s inherent universality, its generalized orientation toward the philosophical, as well as the intersections of terms like locality and universality within African literary criticism.

This chapter provides an overview of the status of animals in the world. It begins by estimating the number of animals, then examines their importance for the economy. It also explores the state of animal welfare and offers a brief overview of the philosophical and legal perspectives on the subject.

This section offers a review and frequently asked questions regarding ethnography in international business.

In Tusculans 1 Cicero gives a lengthy rebuttal of the thesis that death is an evil. This raises a puzzle: how can such a one-sided presentation aspire to reveal whether it is more plausible that death is or is not an evil? Invoking the Tusculans’ practical aim – the removal of emotional disturbance – does not fully satisfy, since it is unclear how effective persuasion can be if the contrary position does not receive a fair hearing. I show that as main speaker in the book Cicero warns against over-confidence in embracing positions that one wishes to be true; and I argue that as author Cicero portrays the interlocutor of Tusculans 1 as a salutary example of how not to approach the kind of questions about death with which the work engages. We are encouraged to see the interlocutor’s failure as one not of character but of inexperience in philosophical method.

The final book of the Tusculans is intended to bring together the results of the preceding books in two ways. It concludes the argument that virtue is sufficient for happiness, where that is understood as invulnerable tranquillity and peace of mind. The book also fills out its opening praise of philosophy, understood as Academic sceptical method. However, the forceful final coda raises problems of philosophical consistency which, when examined carefully, cannot be reconciled with the book’s initial aims.

In his chapter, Christopher Morash examines the modern myth of Revival, which takes the form of what Roland Barthes calls a new “mythic concept.” A good example of this form of myth is the story Yeats tells of meeting Synge in Paris, a meeting that Morash claims did not necessarily have to take place in order for the story to acquire a mythic function. A more substantial instance of the myth of Revival emerges from Synge’s interest in philosophy and science, particularly the work of Herbert Spencer, which enabled him to create a mythic vision of nature based on the ambivalent relationship between the observer and natural world they observe. Synge’s reading of Spencer ultimately leads him to confront early on a central problem of later modernist writers, that is, the instability of the subject/object relationship and the “ambivalent revival” of the observer’s perspective in aesthetic production.