Adolescence is an important developmental period marked by a transition from primarily parental-controlled eating to self-directed and peer-influenced eating. During this period, adolescents gain autonomy over their individual food choices and eating behavior in general. While parent-feeding practices have been shown to influence eating behaviors in children, little is known about how these relationships track across adolescent development as autonomy expands. The purpose of this qualitative study was to identify factors that impact food decisions and eating autonomy among adolescents. Using (...) the food choice process model as a guide, four focus groups were conducted with 34 adolescents. Focus group discussion was semi-structured, asking teens about influences on their food choices across different food environments, their involvement with food purchasing and preparation, and perceived control over food their choices. Focus group transcripts were analyzed using deductive and inductive code creation and thematic analysis. This study found six leading influences on adolescents' food choices and identified additional factors with prominence within specific environmental contexts. This study distinguished a broader spectrum of factors influencing adolescent food choice that extend beyond “convenience” and “taste” which have previously been identified as significant contributors. The degree of control that teens reported differed by eating location, occasion, and social context. Finally, adolescents demonstrated various levels of engagement in behaviors related to their eating autonomy. Identifying the emergent themes related to adolescent autonomy was the first step toward the goal of developing a scale to evaluate adolescent eating autonomy. (shrink)

The Hellenistic temple of Apollo at Didyma presents several unique features in its plan. In its exterior it resembles the typical large Ionic temple of Asia Minor with a double colonnade surrounding it, no opisthodomus, and a pronaos containing three rows of four columns each. But at this point the plan of the temple was modified in the strangest manner. For the pronaos does not lead by a great central doorway into the cella, but where the doorway (...) should come, the worshipper entering the building found himself faced with a blank wall 1·495 rn high with above it a colossal opening 5·63 m wide. Consequently the worshipper in the pronaos could not even look directly into the sanctuary. Instead, just above his eye-level beyond the embrasure of this ‘window’ stretched the floor of a large room, 14·04 m by 6·73 m with its roof supported on two columns. Through this room's central door the spectator on ground level outside could catch a glimpse of the upper part of the naiskos in the inner court. (shrink)

To his narrative of the Sacred War Diodorus appends an excursus on the fate of the Phocian leaders, describing at some length the adventures of Phalaecus and his mercenaries after their departure from Thermopylae . The object of this excursus, whose substance probably derives from Demophilus, is to illustrate the terrible consequences of temple-robbery, but to modern scholars the story is interesting chiefly for its portrayal of the difficulties and hardships experienced by mercenary commanders. It does not appear to (...) have been noticed that at the same time Diodorus unconsciously throws some light upon the mission of Timoleon to Sicily. (shrink)

The eleventh-century Byzantine compiler Cedrenus includes a unique story in the midst of his otherwise traditional and hagiographic material on the emperor Constantine. Mentioning the outbreak of war between the Roman and Persian empires, he describes the cause of the breakdown of peace somewhat as follows. A certain Metrodorus, who was of Persian origin, went to visit the Brahmins in India to study philosophy and won the reputation of being a holy man through his asceticism. He also built water mills (...) and baths, unknown to the Indians till that time. Having acquired this reputation, he entered the temples and took away many precious stones and pearls. He also received gifts from the king of the Indians. On his return to Byzantium he gave them to the emperor Constantine as being gifts of his own. When Constantine expressed his astonishment, Metrodorus said he had sent other gifts by the land route but that they had been detained by the Persians. Constantine then wrote a strong protest to Sapor demanding the gifts but received no reply; thus the peace was broken. This remarkable conte, more appropriate to the Arabian Nights than to sober history, is generally supposed to be referred to in a passage in Ammianus. Towards the end of a long section commenting on the personality and achievements of Julian, Ammianus turns briefly to the question of the ultimate responsibility for the Persian War which ended so disastrously for Julian and the Roman Empire: et quoniam eum obtrectatoribus novos bellorum tumultus ad perniciem rei communis insimulant concitasse, sciant docente veritate perspicue, non Iulianum sed Constantinum ardores Parthicos succendisse, cum Metrodori mendaciis avidius acquiescit, ut dudum rettulimus plane. (shrink)

A POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF CONSERVATISM, PRUDENCE, MODERATION AND TRADITION, by Ferenc Hörcher. London and New York: Bloomsbury Academic. 2020. vi + 210pp. Hardback: $103.50; Paperback: $35.96. ISBN: 978-1-350-06718-9. Reviewed by H.G. Callaway, Department of Philosophy, Temple University. Email: HG1Callaway (at) gmail (.) com Ferenc Hörcher is Head of the Research Institute of Politics and Government of the National University of Public Service, Hungary. His new book, A POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF CONSERVATISM, appears in the Bloomsbury Studies in the Aristotelian Tradition. (...) Hörcher aims to understand, elucidate and develop political conservatism in the long Aristotelian-Stoic tradition, emphasizes the role of character formation for statesmanship and political actors, the constraints implied by specific cultural traditions and the details of factual context, and addresses the contemporary standing and revival of Aristotelian virtue ethics and the specifically political virtue of prudence or “practical wisdom.” The book comes recommended by Harvard University historian James Hankins, who, on the back cover, recommends it for readers “disturbed by the collapse of statesmanship in the contemporary world.” . (shrink)

'The overall positive impression given by the 'Encyclopedia' is that of competence and general usefulness.' -Journal of Jewish Studies, vol.211, no.2 'the Encyclopedia is an excellent reference work, which can be recommended to anyone interested in the scrolls' -Journal for the Study of Judaism 'The editors and contributors have done a great service in producing this reference work devoted to the Scrolls and related topics.' -Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 2001 'the two editors-in-chief... as well as all (...) the individual contributors, have done us a great service in producing this reference work devoted to the Scrolls and related topics. It will be an invaluable resource for both students and researchers in the overlapping fields of Biblical Studies, Dead Sea Scrolls and Second Temple Judaism.' -Jonathan Campbell, Reviews in Religion and Theology, Vol.8, Issue 3, June 2001 'Sumptuous and comprehensive... The range of this Encyclopedia has to be enormous... highly useful, annotated bibliographies are attached to each article... an indispensable work.' -Hyam Maccoby, TLS 29/09/00. (shrink)

A theme like “town and science” invites to comparative analysis, and suggests questions like these: Is the urban context a particularly fertile soil for the development of scientific thinking? Or rather the contrary? Is it fertile or barren under specific circumstances? Or does it favour a particular kind of scientific activity?General answers to such questions can hardly be found; still, they may provide case studies with a guiding perspective. Case studies, on the other hand, may lead to better understanding of (...) the implications of the general questions if not to answers. In the following I therefore try to read the emergence of Mesopotamian mathematics into the context of the “urban revolution” and the rise of states (c. 3300 to c. 2300 B.C.).Mesopotamian city states appeared in the late fourth millennium B.C., and were eventually absorbed in larger territorial states a thousand years later. Contemporary with the incipient state formation was the creation of a script and of genuine, coherent mathematics. Both were based on earlier accounting techniques, both were used by Temple officials for administrative purposes, and both were marked decisively by this application. At the same time, both presuppose modes of thought which are not produced directly by their application but only as mediated by a school system.In the mid‐third millennium, an autonomous scribal profession appears for the first time. At the same time emerge the first literary texts and the first “pure” mathematical problems (i.e., problems not directed at or following the pattern of genuine application). It seems as if the scribes, as soon as they were emancipated as a craft, tried out the range of their professional tools.Neither the use of writing for literary purposes nor the possibility to use numbers for “higher” computation were forgotten when the city states were absorbed in larger social systems. Both, however, were subsumed by the interest of the new territorial state, the former as a means to propagate royal ideology, the latter in the royal administration.The final section of the article compares this early Mesopotamian development with other instances of the “urban revolution” and with the development of scientific thought in the Ancient Greek city state and in the context of Medieval city communes. (shrink)

Russell Herman Conwell was an American Baptist minister, orator, philanthropist, lawyer, and writer. He is best remembered as the founder and first president of Temple University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, as the Pastor of The Baptist Temple, and for his inspirational lecture Acres of Diamonds. "Acres of Diamonds" originated as a speech which Conwell delivered over 6,000 times around the world. It was first published in 1890 by the John Y. Huber Company of Philadelphia. The central idea of the (...) work is that one need not look elsewhere for opportunity, achievement, or fortune--the resources to achieve all good things are present in one's own community. This theme is developed by an introductory anecdote, told to Conwell by an Arab guide, about a man who wanted to find diamonds so badly that he sold his property and went off in futile search for them; the new owner of his home discovered that a rich diamond mine was located right there on the property. Conwell elaborates on the theme through examples of success, genius, service, or other virtues involving ordinary Americans contemporary to his audience: "dig in your own back-yard!". (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Happiness in Premodern Judaism: Virtue, Knowledge, and Well-BeingDaniel H. FrankHava Tirosh-Samuelson. Happiness in Premodern Judaism: Virtue, Knowledge, and Well-Being. Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 2003. Pp. xi + 596. Cloth, $50.00.Franz Rosenzweig tried hard to convince the neoKantian Hermann Cohen of the merits of Zionism and the normalization it would bring to Jews and Jewish life. His attempt met with this response from Cohen: "Oho! So the gang (...) now wants to be happy, does it?" For those ignorant of the history of Jewish philosophy, one might imagine that Jewish philosophers, no less than their non-philosophical kinsmen, were so weighed down by the burdens of history and persecution that happiness could play no role in their theorizing. But happiness plays a key role in the history of Jewish moral and political philosophy, especially in the premodern period. Even Spinoza, the last of the medievals and the first of the moderns, the great critic of the rabbinic tradition and of Maimonides in particular, is concerned in his Ethics with identifying those activities that together constitute human well-being and the good life. Only lately, since the Enlightenment and Kant, has non-eudaimonism been a live option for Jewish thinkers. Only with the rise of (modern) Orthodoxy, and its predilection for construing goodness as rectitude and rule-following, has eudaimonism fallen out of favor. But with Tirosh-Samuelson's weighty volume on happiness in premodern Judaism, there can be no excuse in the future to imagine that all Jews are, or must be, closet Kantians, strict deontologists. To think otherwise seems to come close to taking on the classical (anti-Semitic) dichotomy of legalistic Judaism vs. spiritual Christianity. In it own way, Happiness in Premodern Judaism is a critique of such a one-sided, monochromatic view of Judaism, whether from the Christian or even from the Jewish side.Tirosh-Samuelson writes explicitly as an intellectual historian, rather than as a philosopher. She understands herself and her project as one that presents just the facts, without evaluating them. While one may cavil at a lost opportunity, in the present case this would be churlish, given the enormous erudition on display. After an introductory chapter outlining the foundational moral theories of Plato, Aristotle, and the Hellenistic philosophers, the text presents the (Greek-inspired) areteic wisdom literature of the Second Temple period, the teleological theocentrism of the rabbis, the Greco-Arabic Islamicate culture that nurtured Jewish philosophers from Saadia in the tenth century to Maimonides in the twelfth, the rabbinic and kabbalistic critiques of the philosophical ideal of happiness commencing [End Page 338] with the translation (into Hebrew) of Maimonides' Guide of the Perplexed at the beginning of the thirteenth century, and finally, very important and the focus of much recent scholarly work, the transformation of Jewish eudaimonism through direct contact with Christian Scholasticism and later with the humanist Renaissance. All in all, a millennium and a half of Jewish intellectual history is presented in a sober and scholarly way.Not surprisingly Maimonides plays a pivotal role in the story that Tirosh-Samuelson relates. A Janus-like figure, he represents the culmination and height of accommodation with Greek and Greco-Arabic philosophical culture. However, with the gradual worsening of the socio-economic condition of European Jewry in the thirteenth century, his accommodationism seemed traitorous, and as a result generations of thinkers, mystics and philosophers alike, strove to critically distance themselves from Maimonidean Aristotelianism. Tirosh-Samuelson is admirably clear in pointing out that such anti-Maimonidean tendencies are ill-characterized as anti-philosophical. Hasdai Crescas in the late-fourteenth and early-fifteenth centuries launched a massive critique of Maimonides' physics, metaphysics, and moral philosophy, but did so in as rigorous a manner as any philosopher would. The picture that enfolds over the course of the text is one of vigorous dialectic between partisans of 'alien' (Greek) wisdom and those who viewed such wisdom with considerable suspicion. Such a dialectic parallels, not surprisingly, developments in Christian philosophy.The trajectory of the story of premodern Jewish musings on happiness is from the centrality of reason and intellect, and the contemplative activity that is reason's preeminent actuality, to the primacy... (shrink)

As a spiritual or meditative practice solitude implies more than mere silence or being alone. While these are perhaps indispensablecomponents, it is possible to be alone or to live in silence and nevertheless be unable to reconfigure these into genuine solitude. Solitude is also more than being in some remote or inaccessible place. Even though geographical isolation might be conducive to solitude, with rare exceptions human beings have seldom sought solitude in complete seclusion in the wilderness. The places where human (...) beings have sought solitude have in the end been human places, human-built places. It should come as no surprise then that through architecture humans beings have sought to build solitude, to construct, through stone and glass and wooden structures, placesthat are conducive to and encourage solitude. Such structures include individual hermitages, monasteries, temples, and even cathedrals. In each case the purpose is to translate or reconfigure a natural geographical place into a space, a human space, where solitude as a spiritual or meditative practice becomes possible. What the individual sojourner brings to the experience is an inner openness to the architecture, to the natural environment and to the spiritual realm which interweave to create solitude. This paper examines (1) the spiritual need to experience solitude, (2) what it is that solitude requires, and (3) the endeavor to create solitudethrough architecture and the challenges it poses to both architecture and spiritual practice. In particular the paper explores and compares solitude’s architectural expression in three Medieval Christian monastic orders—the Camaldolese Order, the Carthusian Order, and the Cistercian Order. Despite their common heritage these orders realize solitude, as an essential spiritual value, through unique architectural expressions. (shrink)

The purpose of this note is to redirect attention to some of the literary evidence that concerns the site of Apollo's temple on the Palatine. For this evidence has an irritating habit of refusing to confirm what would otherwise be irrefutable archaeological proof of the temple's site. It is now fashionable to identify the site of the temple with that occupied by the temple-core that was originally assigned to Iuppiter Victor on the south-west angle of the (...) Palatine in the region of the Scalae Caci, the Temple of Magna Mater, the Casa Romuli, and the so-called House of Liuia. This was, in the view of most scholars, Euander's citadel that Virgil calls Pallanteum and this must be the site of the Augustan buildings. Now the House of Liuia has been identified with apparent probability as the House of Augustus, and we know from literary evidence that the temple of Apollo, Augustus' private house, and the house decreed to him by the senate must have been in close proximity to each other. The temple-core on the south-west of the Palatine is of Augustan date and is built over the remains of houses of the late republic1 which appear to have been demolished for the purpose. If Liuia's House was the house of Augustus then Iuppiter Victor's temple must be assigned to Apollo. (shrink)

The purpose of this note is to redirect attention to some of the literary evidence that concerns the site of Apollo's temple on the Palatine. For this evidence has an irritating habit of refusing to confirm what would otherwise be irrefutable archaeological proof of the temple's site. It is now fashionable to identify the site of the temple with that occupied by the temple-core that was originally assigned to Iuppiter Victor on the south-west angle of the (...) Palatine in the region of the Scalae Caci, the Temple of Magna Mater, the Casa Romuli, and the so-called House of Liuia. This was, in the view of most scholars, Euander's citadel that Virgil calls Pallanteum and this must be the site of the Augustan buildings. Now the House of Liuia has been identified with apparent probability as the House of Augustus, and we know from literary evidence that the temple of Apollo, Augustus' private house, and the house decreed to him by the senate must have been in close proximity to each other. The temple-core on the south-west of the Palatine is of Augustan date and is built over the remains of houses of the late republic1 which appear to have been demolished for the purpose. If Liuia's House was the house of Augustus then Iuppiter Victor's temple must be assigned to Apollo. (shrink)

Professor Richmond's reply t o m y article on Palatine Apollo is argued with his usual enthusiasm and cogency. This reply to him, which has been delayed by my departure for Australia, must begin with an expression of the respect that I feel for an antagonist far more able and experienced than I can claim to be. Indeed, it was while lecturing on Ovid, Tristia 3 that I first met Professor Richmond's masterly article on the Augustan Palatium . From this (...) article my enthusiasm for the subject began, and I know that Professor Richmond has always welcomed discussion and argument about the famous Augustan temple of Apollo on the Palatine. I can but join him in urging any who may have been interested by our discussion to study his original article which contains much more besides a discussion of the site of Apollo's temple. (shrink)

Professor Richmond's reply t o m y article on Palatine Apollo is argued with his usual enthusiasm and cogency. This reply to him, which has been delayed by my departure for Australia, must begin with an expression of the respect that I feel for an antagonist far more able and experienced than I can claim to be. Indeed, it was while lecturing on Ovid, Tristia 3 that I first met Professor Richmond's masterly article on the Augustan Palatium. From this article (...) my enthusiasm for the subject began, and I know that Professor Richmond has always welcomed discussion and argument about the famous Augustan temple of Apollo on the Palatine. I can but join him in urging any who may have been interested by our discussion to study his original article which contains much more besides a discussion of the site of Apollo's temple. (shrink)

The Roman Senate in 144 B.C. instructed the urban praetor, Q. Marcius Rex, to repair the conduits of Rome's two existing aqueducts, the Appia and the Anio , and to put an end to illegal use of their water by private citizens. Urban growth now demanded a more copious water supply, and so the Senate further I instructed Marcius to secure additional water for the city. Money was appropriated for this work, and Marcius' praetorship was prorogued for 143. At this (...) point the decemviri objected to a plan for bringing water to the Capitol. The issue was debated in the Senate in 143, and again in 140; but on both occasions Marcius' gratia prevailed, and water reached the Capitol in a new aqueduct which Marcius himself had built. A statue of Marcius was erected in later times on the Capitol, behind the temple of Jupiter, to commemorate this grand achievement.1 An everlasting glory was in fact to be his in the name of the aqueduct whose waters earned poets' praises. (shrink)

The changing sacred landscape of Late Antiquity has long been seen in terms of a monolithic development ‘from temple to church’. Recent scholarship, however, has discarded this picture in favour of a more complex view, in which freestanding churches (and monasteries) were increasingly built from the fourth century onwards, while at the same time various, mostly practical, ways were found of dealing with the sacred built environment of the past. The Late Antique papyri from Oxyrhynchus contain dozens of references (...) to churches and monasteries, and, occasionally, also temples. The city thus affords an excellent opportunity to study the changing sacred landscape of this period in a local context. In previous scholarship, several lists have been compiled to collect the attestations of churches. The last comprehensive collection of the material dates back two decades, however, while the one list of monasteries is heavily outdated. Moreover, a list of temples in the Late Antique papyri has never been put together. This article, then, presents, in the appendix, a brand-new Checklist of temples, churches and monasteries of Late Antique Oxyrhynchus. It serves as the basis for the detailed analysis of the data that precedes it, which shows that these data are in perfect agreement with the now prevalent general view among Late Antique scholars of how the sacred landscape changed over time. For comparison with the findings from the papyri, we will also briefly discuss the results of recent excavations at the site. (shrink)

These are the first two of a series of three volumes on Buddhism in modern China; the first deals with the system and institutions of modern Chinese Buddhism, the second with its history. The third volume which is yet to be published will deal with Buddhism in China under the communists. The books are amazingly well written; they show excellent research, much of which was in interviewing monks who had escaped from China. The presentation is well ordered, and the author's (...) style makes even what one would think was uninteresting fascinating. His own divisions best explain what the volumes contain. The first is divided into two parts, Monastic Institutions and the Individual Buddhist. The first part contains chapters on the people of the monastery, the meditation hall, the Buddha recitation hall, observance of the rules, hereditary and branch temples, the abbot, rites for the dead, and the economy of monasteries. The second part on the Individual Buddhist contains chapters on entering the sangha, the monastic career, the lay Buddhist, and the nature of the system. His account shows, contrary to the usual view, that Chinese Buddhism up to the time of communist take-over was still a vibrantly practiced religion. The second volume takes up the problem of the so-called revival of Buddhism in China beginning around the turn of the century. The chapter headings are: the beginnings of the revival, the struggle for national leadership, T'ai-hsü, the lay Buddhist movement, building and publishing, Buddhist education, social action by the sangha, sangha and state, foreign contacts, sects and dissension, Christian stereotypes and Buddhist realities, the meaning of the revival, and a postscript. The "revival" is shown to be mainly a lay movement and a reaction to political pressures which probably would have brought about the diminishment of Buddhism in China even if the communists had not taken over. As with the first volume there is here very little explanation of Buddhist doctrine which the author considered to be beyond the scope of the book. Both volumes warrant repeating that the author researched his topic thoroughly and then wrote his story in excellent prose. Highly recommended.--P. J. H. (shrink)

In this paper, I will investigate the early work of William Temple (1881–1944). My contention is that Temple’s systematic philosophy contains resources for an interesting variant of a desire argument for God’s existence and for the truth of Christianity. This desire argument moves from claims about the nature of human reason to the conditions for its satisfaction and how that satisfaction might be achieved. In constructing this argument, Temple confronts the problem of evil, and so I will (...) also outline his response to the problem here. Temple is often overlooked in histories of philosophy, though he was conversant with philosophical classics, including Plato, Aristotle, Kant, Hegel, and Lotze, and, to list a few of the contemporaries or near-contemporaries: Balfour, Haldane, F. H. Bradley, A. C. Bradley, Moore, Bosanquet, Joachim, and Croce. He also acknowledges, in the preface to his main philosophical work Mens Creatrix, a special debt to Bergson, but also signals distance from him in the same place. Temple presents an interesting case of a philosopher and theologian (most of his books are a mixture of the two, some being more predominantly one or the other) because of his commitment to philosophical system in the midst of early analytic philosophy. (shrink)

The word dona is an embarrassment here. If Agricola was appointed to ‘check the gifts of the temples’, that is, gifts which temples had received, it seems an odd restriction in a phrase which one would expect to refer to temple possessions in general. What the context, especially in the word sacrilegium, makes clear, as commentators have duly noted, is that the temples suffered losses through the plunder of their works of art by Nero and also by others, although (...) the result tended to obliterate the guilt of others. This was after the fire at Rome in A.D. 64. See H. Furneaux rev. J. G. C. Anderson , pp.55 f.; R. Till , p.62; I. Forni , p.108; R. M. Ogilvie and Ian Richmond , p.152. (shrink)

The word dona is an embarrassment here. If Agricola was appointed to ‘check the gifts of the temples’, that is, gifts which temples had received, it seems an odd restriction in a phrase which one would expect to refer to temple possessions in general. What the context, especially in the word sacrilegium, makes clear, as commentators have duly noted, is that the temples suffered losses through the plunder of their works of art by Nero and also by others, although (...) the result tended to obliterate the guilt of others. This was after the fire at Rome in A.D. 64. See H. Furneaux rev. J. G. C. Anderson, pp.55 f.; R. Till, p.62; I. Forni, p.108; R. M. Ogilvie and Ian Richmond, p.152. (shrink)

The story of Anna is a brief description of a faithful prophetess which is consciously paired with the previous and more developed narrative of Simeon. Hannah’s story is significant to the Lukan Gospel and yet her voice, which men and women visiting the temple heard repeatedly, is not articulated by Luke. She has been the topic of much research, in as much as three verses in their context can provide, while no one has sought to let Hannah speak for (...) herself. This article aims to do this by exploring her story within the Lukan narrative, considering prophetesses in the Old Testament, and echoing the dynamics of the Jewish story of Judith with which she is intertextually paired. (shrink)