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273 ments on dueling, which combine ‘‘the best classical and Christian thinking on the subject.’’ Books have been written on the changing attitude toward dueling during this period, none of which he seems to have consulted. When Mr. Welsh then concludes that ‘‘there cannot be much joy, one may think, in the life of honor represented in Sir Charles Grandison,’’ it seems clear that he is looking for something in eighteenthcentury fiction that its authors particularly wanted to dismiss—a purely secular vision as the sole source of human pleasure. The discussion of Fielding is equally disappointing, except perhaps for the attempt to say something about Sarah Fielding’s David Simple and Lives of Cleopatra and Octavia. That in Joseph Andrews passion at times overtakes reason , that goodness can extend to the lower classes, that Adams is quixotic and idealistic, all seem readily accessible insights without any need to develop a philosophy of honor. And when the insights of the earlier sections of the book are applied, they are as assertions rather than reasoned arguments. Thus, we are told that Joseph is ‘‘something of a philosophe himself’’ for arguing that honor rather than goodness ‘‘is the only motive that can be depended on for selfless acts.’’ Mr. Welsh, however, omits the opening clause of lamentation that separates Fielding’s satire from Mandeville ’s or Rousseau’s politics: ‘‘I have often wondered . . . to observe so few Instances of Charity among Mankind . . . .’’ Fielding endorses the secular derivation of charity only as it reinforces his initial claim that affectation is the best source of the ridiculous. Similarly, in Tom Jones, honor and goodness are linked (as in Tom’s advice to Nightingale ), but that hardly calls for an endorsement of Empson’s ‘‘siding’’ with Square over Thwackum. There is a brief chapter on heroic drama , primarily that of Calderón and Corneille , with a glance at Aureng-Zebe, in which Mr. Welsh finds that, despite Dryden’s deep conservatism and valuation of filial loyalty, Aureng-Zebe privileges freely given over slavish obedience . The remainder of the book, dealing primarily with Kant and some observations on modern notions of honor (with a worthwhile digression on Adam Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments), returns to the high level of discussion of the opening, as do the chapters on Shakespeare—although one might be licensed to suspect that experts in classical philosophy, Shakespeare, and Kant would find causes for concern similar to those voiced about his discussions of eighteenth-century literature. This is a book that tries most bravely to cover an enormously complex subject over a vast chronological and cultural span, and its reach, in space and time, exceeds its grasp. Such an effort, if I understand Mr. Welsh correctly, is an honorable act. Melvyn New University of Florida JOHN MILLER. Cities Divided: Politics and Religion in English Provincial Towns, 1660–1722. Oxford: Oxford, 2007. Pp. xvi ⫹ 328. £72. Mr. Miller develops themes that he opened in his After the Civil Wars: English Politics and Government in the Reign of Charles II (2000). Both studies are concerned with the political legacy of the English Civil Wars, but he now takes the story up to the 1720s, concentrating especially on developments in 274 towns, while skilfully synthesizing secondary literature with his own archival researches. As the Bibliography indicates , historians have begun to investigate this topic recently, notably Paul Halliday in his Dismembering the Body Politic: Partisan Politics in England’s Towns, 1650–1730 (1998). Mr. Miller himself stresses the mechanisms by which conflict was contained and a measure of consensus achieved. ‘‘Differences did not end in war’’; yet he also concludes that ‘‘the period 1660–1722 saw political debate, and discord, become a normal part of English urban life.’’ Mr. Miller begins with an account of the dramatic parliamentary election at Coventry in 1722, which saw Tory crowds venting their feelings of hostility toward the Whig corporation with familiar cries of ‘‘Down with the Roundheads ! Down with the Rump!’’ Indeed Coventry belonged to a group of towns (Bristol, Canterbury, Gloucester, Northampton , and Taunton) with a long tradition of politicoreligious radicalism, dating back in some cases to the sixteenth century. At Coventry, Gloucester, Northampton , and Taunton, the...

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