Deficit financing, revenue projections and interest rates in Spanish Naples provide the context to reflect upon the exigencies of debt resolution, the illusions of mathematical certainty and the perils of temporizing in political decision-making. ‘Creative accounting’ explores the micro-history of an equation, which provided the mathematical rationale to lower Spanish interest rates to 3·3 per cent and to resolve the controversy over the ‘just’ rate of interest. In an attempt to generate revenues during the Spanish financial crisis of the 1570s that surrounded Philip II's second bankruptcy in Castile, Philip's Castilian accountants devised a proposal to suspend the hearth census in the Kingdom of Naples for fifteen years in exchange for a prepayment at discount. An analysis of the mathematics of the discount schedule raises questions about early modern economic realities. Changes in the significance of figures and quantitative relationships, like changes in the meaning of words, reveal the mental processes used to represent economic fact and to construct solutions to economic difficulties even in the midst of crises.

Ireland in the 1690s was a protestant state with a majority catholic population. These protestants sometimes described themselves as ‘the king's Irish subjects’ or ‘the people of Ireland’, but rarely as ‘the Irish’, a label which they usually reserved for the catholics. In constitutional and political terms their still evolving sense of identity expressed itself in the assertion of Irish parliamentary sovereignty, most notably in William Molyneux's 1698 pamphlet, The case of Ireland's being bound by acts of parliament in England, stated. In practice, however, the Irish parliament did not enjoy legislative independence, and the political elite was powerless in the face of laws promulgated at Westminster, such as the i6gg woollen act, which were detrimental to its interests. One possible solution to the problem of inferior status lay in legislative union with England or Great Britain. Increasingly in the years before 1707 certain Irish protestant politicians elaborated the economic, constitutional and practical advantages to be gained from a union, but they also based their case upon an appeal to the shared religion and ethnicity of the sovereign's loyal subjects in the two kingdoms. In short the protestants insisted that they were English. This unionist episode thus illustrates the profoundly ambivalent character of protestant identity in late seventeenthand early eighteenth-century Ireland.

Considered by many of his contemporaries in 1792–3 as the saviour of the British state, at his subsequent trial in 1796, Reeves was charged by the house of commons with seditious libel. The case offers an opportunity to scrutinize the current revisionist position which claims that loyalist values and ideologies, such as those promulgated by Reeves and his Association, were widely accepted and functioned as a natural bulwark against revolutionary principles and the destabilizing of the British state. But the publication of Reeves's ultra-tory tract Thoughts on the English government in 1795 not only provided the Foxite minority with a focus for its parliamentary attack on the 1795 Treason and Sedition bills, but, because of the overwhelming condemnation of the tract, forced Pitt publicly to repudiate Reeves and the entire ultra-tory position. Indeed, it is argued here that Reeves's church and king loyalist crusade of 1792–3 had been tolerated by Pitt's ministry merely as a convenient means of political intimidation and found little resonance in the political culture of the house of commons.

The challenge of Joseph II's enlightened absolutist reforms in the 1780s imposed upon the Hungarian political opinion the painful dilemma of choosing between ‘fatherland’ and ‘progress’, between ‘nation’ and ‘civilization’, between national identity and modernization. These responses created the conceptual basis for the emergence of the modern Hungarian nation. The following characterizes the Hungarian liberals' and conservatives' intellectual horizons and value systems between 1830 and 1848. These two schools represent at least two different modernization strategies, and at least two concepts of national character and two perceptions of adversaries. The ideas here discussed concern the very bases of social organization and the nature and legitimacy of the state; they reveal how Hungarians conceived of the nation; how they saw foreign countries and the European equilibrium; how they perceived themselves and their adversaries, and how they envisaged their past and future.

This article examines the history of African resistance to colonial rule among the Nandi and Kipsigis peoples of Kenya's Western Highlands. Anti-colonial protest centred on the activities of a group of ritual leaders, the orkoiik of the Talai clan, who were believed to possess supernatural powers of prophecy and divination. Between the late 1890s and 1905, the orkoiyot Koitalel had come to prominence as a leader of resistance to conquest. After his defeat the British briefly attempted to harness his Talai clansmen to the system of colonial government, promoting them as chiefs. This move was based upon a misunderstanding of the status of the orkoiik, whose powers often stood in direct conflict with the authorityof the elders and who were greatly feared by many Nandi and Kipsigis. By the igsos the orkoiik were deeply implicated in much criminal activity, especially the theft of livestock from European settler farmers. On three occasions orkoiik attempted to organize armed risings.

The article concludes with a discussion of the place of the orkoiik in the historiography of Kenya. Although Koitalel and Barserion are commonly presented as heroes of a glorious resistance to colonialism, it is suggested that this interpretation fails to reflect the deep ambiguity of the status of the orkoiik, and the complexity of the struggles that took placewithin African societies under colonial rule.

The Independent State of Croatia (Nezavisna Država Hrvatska, NDH), which came into being during Hitler's Blitzkrieg against Yugoslavia in April 1941, was nominally included in the Italian sphere of influence in the Balkans. It soon turned into an uneasy condominium, however, between its formal Italian mentors and the Germans. Italian influence was largely symbolic, while German officers, experts of all profiles, businessmen and officials were prominent in Zagreb from the outset. Mussolini was deeply mistrustful of German intentions, and suspected that Germany sought a leading role in Croatia in spite of Hitler's assurances to the contrary. Nevertheless, the Italians could not devise a strategy to bring their nominal Croatian protégés to heel.

While there is no evidence of a German ‘grand design’ to undermine Italy's aspìrations in the Balkans, it is certain that the Germans never intended to give up their leading role in the economic sphere. By early 1942 they secured control over all key natural resources of the NDH and most of its industrial capacity, often acting behind their Italian partners' backs in pursuit of their objectives.

Also in 1942 the Wehrmacht made a strong bid to bring Croatian armed forces under its command and control. While this caused some intra-German disputes, and was resisted by the foreign ministry, it proved ultimately successful due to the rise of insurgency which threatened strategic interests of the Axis. Again, Italian claims to precedence were disregarded.

The most serious dispute between Italy and Germany in the NDH concerned large joint antiinsurgency operations in the first half of 1943, and the Italians' refusal to give up their links with the Četniks. The breakdown of Italo-German military co-operation in the NDH reflected a deeper malaise of the intra-Axis relationship. It was founded upon different assumptions and objectives, but such differences remained unstated. The rivalry between Germany and Italy in Croatia vividly reflected this deeper schism between the ultimate objectives of Mussolini and his brutal Teutonic friend.

When I had the pleasure of reviewing Nicholas von Maltzahn's study of Milton's History of Britain, I had nothing but praise for the scholarship he brought to the whole intellectual background of the work, and for his judicious placing of it in the Miltonic canon. His book gives an excellent account of the state of British historiography in the first half of the seventeenth century, and shows how Milton's essentially humanist and literary conception of what a history should be, and his exclusive interest in narrative sources, made him already out of date in his method at a time when Spelman and Selden were pioneering a recognizably modern form of historical scholarship. He carefully traces the development of Milton's ambition to write a great national history, explaining why his first conception of a verse epic, singing the heroic past, gave way to that of a lofty prose narrative that would culminate in a celebration of God's presence with his elect nation in the struggle for religious and civil liberty in his own time. He deals fully and learnedly with the influences upon the style and content of the History, from Sallust (Milton's favourite exemplar) and Tacítus through Bacon (possibly) to the preachers of the Fast Sermons before the Long Parliament. He is illuminating about the close association in Milton's mind between eloquence and virtue, and about the ways in which his beliefs about the operation of divine providence modified his predominantly classical approach to the writing of history. He is thoroughly informative about the textual history of the work, and especially about the fragment published in 1681 as Mr John Miltons Character of the Long Parliament, whose editor he convincingly identifies as the arch-Tory Roger L'Estrange.

I should first thank Professor Woolrych for his attention to my book, and also for his generous conduct in anticipating debate over his views. In particular I am grateful for his correction of a historical point on which my book proves in error: the readmission of conformist members in the first weeks of the Rump Parliament did not much extend to secluded members, and thus the backsliding of the revolutionaries after Pride's Purge and the king's trial may have been less troubling to Milton than I supposed. On this point I had mistaken Underdown and Worden's description of the revolutionaries' compromise, and had partially misunderstood their conclusion that ‘the damage to the revolutionary cause…had already been done by the end of February’. Here Woolrych now shows me wrong. But although this changes the balance it does not change the substance of my argument about Milton's stern note in the History. For as Woolrych renews the issue of the dating of the Digression from Milton's History, he again misreads that text and its context in the larger work. He believes it an expression of despair, and thinks such despair on Milton's part could only be occasioned by the national apostasy at the Restoration. But Milton, both in the contemporary Tenure of Kings and Magistrates (1649) as well as in later tracts, proves much less sanguine about English hopes than even the passages Woolrych cites will support. The Presbyterians, whom the Tenure attacks in the same terms as the Digression, were not the only problem faced by the ‘uprighter sort’ of magistrates and those ‘people, though in number less by many, in whom faction least hath prevaild above the Law of nature and right reason’.