There are many topics that are not covered in the book. First, networks may be weighted, directed or signed. Then networks may exhibit structures other than those considered in the book, such as hierarchical structures, or have edges of different types, and collections of networks may arise as snapshots of a network process evolving in time. Each of these settings requires different methods of analysis. Then relationships may be expressed in more intricate ways; `edges’ may link more than just two objects, as in a hypergraph, and abstract simplicial complexes can be thought of as higher dimensional analogues of geometric graphs. These, and other topics, are sketched in this chapter. The material in this book forms a general basis that can be used in coming to grips with these more advanced settings.

Since the day of their arrival, some time had passed—more than three weeks—and Egon had long since returned from the great hunt at Pejevics's estate. It was now mid-October, and there was already talk of departing for the season; however, the splendid weather, as if to compensate for the earlier rain, meant that the date kept being postponed. And the talk of moving on was much less serious than it appeared, at least on the part of Egon, who never wearied of declaring “life inside an ellipse, or, what comes to the same thing, life with two centers—two aunts,” to be a new and highest form of existence.

Indeed, he was now on teasing terms with Franziska and assured her that, from the very first moment, she had disappointed him in her new quality of “Magyar.” It had started right away, at the boat. He had expected to see her on a thoroughbred, in equestrian clothes, with a flowing veil and an English riding crop; instead she had arrived escorted in a carriage, just like little Protestant countesses being driven into town for Sunday school or a children's ball. Yes, that was the start, and what he had experienced since had only increased his surprise and consternation; more and more, he had been forced to acknowledge how wrong a path she had chosen.

This chapter continues the discussion of how English came to function as the language of African self-expression in the twentieth century and was ultimately liberated from its colonial legacies. The chapter starts by exploring the so-called language question, a long-running debate on the status and function of the English language in the making of African letters, which has perhaps been the most divisive issue among African writers in the second half of the twentieth century. The debate was not simply a feud on language use but the expression of a deep anxiety about what it has meant to produce a literature of decolonization in the language of the former colonizer. The second part of the chapter provides an account of the evolution and transformation of English in Africa among different social groups including the slave traders of Calabar, Creole elites in West Africa, and the elites produced by the colonial schools and university colleges that produced the first generation of African writers.

Matthias (Hun: Mátyás) Hunyadi (r.1458–90) was elected king of Hungary in January 1458. The first ruler of Hungary to have come from a non-royal family, his accession to the throne of St István (St Stephen) was due to the European reputation of his father, János Hunyadi (d.1456), as a champion of the war against the Ottomans, his popularity amongst the nobility, and the support of the papacy which hoped that the son of the great Hunyadi would continue the fight against the infidel. Matthias was fifteen years old when the diet (congregatio generalis) at Pest elected him king. At that time, he was not residing in his new kingdom: he had been taken as a hostage to Vienna by King Ladislaus V (r.1440–57) in June 1457, whence he was escorted to Prague in November that same year. It was Ladislaus V himself who ordered Matthias to be taken to the Czech capital; he wanted to marry the young Hunyadi to the daughter of Jíří z Poděbrad (George of Poděbrady), former governor of Bohemia. Within days, the seventeen-year-old Ladislaus V was dead. Matthias Hunyadi left Prague at the beginning of February 1458 as the elected king of Hungary, followed later by his new bride, Kateřina z Poděbrad. In March, her father was elected king of Bohemia and soon he was crowned by two Hungarian prelates delegated by Matthias. Everything seemed to presage that the two ‘national’ kings, Jíří of Bohemia and his son-in-law, Matthias of Hungary, would co-operate harmoniously, assisting each other in the consolidation of their newly won royal authority.

Chapter 2 explains how the Economist Mental Model (EMM) is measured by capturing two key dimensions: familiarity with core economic concepts (e.g., inflation, supply–demand, market dynamics) and the application of economic reasoning tools (e.g., cost–benefit analysis, opportunity costs, marginal analysis). This measurement approach uses an index of “economic knowledge,” drawn from original surveys in the US, Italy, and the UK. By assessing both factual economic knowledge and the ability to apply it to hypothetical scenarios, the index distinguishes EMM users (high economic knowledge) from those with Alternative Mental Models (AMMs) (low economic knowledge). Descriptive findings reveal that older, educated, wealthier men tend to score higher, with no strong partisan gap. Notably, EMM adopters do not value economic objectives more than those with AMMs, highlighting that differences in policy choices likely stem from how trade-offs are interpreted rather than divergent fundamental values. Demonstrating strong consistency across contexts, these measures set the stage for subsequent empirical analyses.

This chapter advances a simple argument. From the moment designated coastal legislation and administration started to impact on the physical geography from the 1690s, the coast became a politically distinct space. Whereas geography had influenced social and economic realities in coastal regions for centuries, it was only with the designated attempts at ordering littoral space and controlling coastal mobility that this also became true in a political sense. The coast, in legal and practical terms, became an area of state activity and, thereby, a space apart. By looking at how legislators and administrators attempted to order coastal space with designated sets of laws and new bodies of coastal officers from the late seventeenth century onwards, the chapter aims to illustrate this larger argument by a number of smaller points.

Once the coast appeared on the political map of the United Kingdom in the context of political concerns specific to the reign of Mary and William (chapter 1), there was no returning to a state of ignorance. And yet for a long time, ignorance as to what the coast was and where it began or ended was not eliminated from legislation. With increasing amounts of legislation targeting coastal areas, there was not necessarily an awareness of how best to control coastal space. Such regulation was, secondly, often profoundly at odds with priorities in the executive. This was only natural, given that enforcement was a different matter from legislation. It is argued here, however, that these differences not only derived from different positions in the governing apparatus but originated in diverging understandings of space.

For each item, ‘untitled’ means that there is no title in the manuscript. Modern titles are given in modern English, in quotation marks, preceded by ‘Called’. Titles found in the manuscript are given in Middle English with modern capitalization, in italics, preceded by ‘Title’ and followed by parenthetical identification of location and any rubrication. Headings found in the manuscript are given in Middle English, in italics, preceded by ‘Heading’.

In this list, ‘no other manuscripts’ means that none are identified in the DIMEV or NIMEV, the IMEP, or In Principio; in the absence of such a note, it may be assumed the item appears in at least one other manuscript. For other witnesses to items in Middle English verse, see www.dimev.net.2 For other witnesses to items in Middle English prose, see William Marx, The Index of Middle English Prose. Handlist XIV: Manuscripts in the National Library of Wales (Cambridge, 1999), pp. 19–27, and https://imep.lib.cam.ac.uk/ for updates. For other witnesses to items in Latin, see In Principio – Online at https://www.brepols.net/series/INPR-O.

Scribal hands have been named (A, D, H, etc.) in accordance with Margaret Connolly's analysis in Chapter 3 in this volume.

Quire 110, fols. 1–10, parchment

• 1. fol. 1r–v, English prose. Begins: The man tat fallet syke te fyrst day of eny monet te tirde day folowynge he schall be hole. Ends: Thys is a trew wytnesse found of wise men. Untitled. Heading: Secundum anticos Grecorum. Prognostication. Hand A.

These descriptions had prompted quite a lively chat between Fessler and Franziska. He asked to hear about the social life in the small North German town and posed one question after another. What he found most interesting were the scenes from the Lutheran parsonage: the many children, the games of whist, and the pastors’ conferences. All of this garnered his unmistakable interest, and that of the countess, as was clear from their expressions; and only Count Adam, usually the most vocal admirer of such descriptions and exchanges, had fallen strikingly silent. He was obviously pondering other matters and questions, as he gave absentminded replies and toyed with a curtain tassel that hung down by his chair. He did not demur when the guests left earlier than usual or indulge in teasing or objections when Fessler requested the honor of accompanying Franziska to her lodgings. In fact he hardly smiled, and when the two guests left, he withdrew to his room which was directly above his sister's salon.

She was used to seeing her brother's nervous vivacity change into its opposite without any particular reason, and so she felt no surprise until the next morning, when he excused himself from breakfast without further explanation. At the same time she could hear him pacing back and forth in his room, like a man tormented by some deep inner disquiet. What could it be? What had happened to put him in this humor? She was still turning this over in her mind when the old count walked into her salon, more elegantly clad than usual, and in every way carrying himself like someone about to appear at an audience or to deliver a speech of great import.

This chapter collects evidence from drama, poetry, cult inscriptions, and papyri that identifies peithō with the action of enchantment (thelgein). Descriptions of the goddess Peithō in cult and early Greek poetry, beginning with Hesiod, associate her with the magical qualities of related divinities, such as Aphrodite and Hermes. The chapter outlines three mechanisms of Peithō’s bewitching action that are represented across a variety of source material: the beguilement of the eyes in Ibycus, Pindar, and Aeschylus; the driving force of erotic agōgai in Pindar and the Greek Magical Papyri; and the ambiguous poison of pharmaka (drugs) in Gorgias’ Encomium and Sophocles’ Trachiniae. Through association with the operations of thelgein, peithō is situated as a surreptitious and enchanting force that comes from outside but can also enter the psyche of a person with or without their willing it.