This article explores the journey of Berlin Rabbi Joachim Prinz (1902–1988) to Yugoslavia at the invitation of Zagreb Zionist leader Lavoslav Schick (1881–1941) in late 1935. It examines the transnational cooperation between German and Yugoslav Zionists in the interwar period and their efforts to cope with the plight of German and southeastern European Jewry alike. Although Jewish representatives of different countries cooperated intensively during the interwar period, we know little about it. Thus, this article intervenes in current research on European Jewish history and contributes to a growing interest in the transnational entanglements of European Jewry and Jewish politics in the 1930s and early 1940s by focusing on two important protagonists of Jewish interwar politics in Germany and Yugoslavia.

“What was wrong with the historical reaction at the end of Victoria's reign, was not the positive stress it laid on the need for scientific method in weighing evidence, but its negative repudiation of the literary art, which was declared to have nothing whatever to do with the historian's task.” Writing in 1945, G.M. Trevelyan was overly pessimistic in assuming that this “negative repudiation” had completely destroyed “literary” history in an age of professionalization; John Osborne uses Trevelyan's own success to convince us of the continued vigor of the belletristic tradition in the twentieth century. Both Trevelyan's anxieties and the fact that they proved unfounded are significant, however, for they help us to focus on important issues in the emergence of professional historiography in England.

In ‘Evil is Still Evidence: Comments on Almeida’ Robert Bass presents three objections to the central argument (ENE) in my ‘Evil is Not Evidence’. The first objection is that ENE is invalid. According to the second objection, it is a consequence of ENE that there can be no evidence for or against a posteriori necessities. The third objection is that, contrary to ENE, the likelihood of certain necessary identities varies with the evidence we have for them. In this reply I explain why ENE has exactly none of the implications described by Bass. I argue in the concluding section that there is a modal solution to the epistemological problems presented by ENE.

The tendency persists to separate the artful storyteller in Collins from the less successful thesis novelist. Like Wells and, to a lesser degree, Lawrence, Collins developed too strong a sense of mission. Beginning with Man and Wife, his novels seem encumbered with social protest. Collins's “old-fashioned” opinions, especially the remark that the “primary object of a work of fiction should be to tell a story,” are frequently quoted to reduce the skilful storyteller to a mere entertainer. Storytelling in The Woman in White is, of course, superb; but for once the novelist of sensation and suspense utilized his narrative skills to advance an idea important to himself and of consequence nationally: his conviction that the worship of propriety had become, by 1870, one of the besetting evils of Victorian life. In The Woman in White, Collins combines his talent for melodrama with just enough of the social critic, even if the Victorian eventually upstages the dissident moralist: the way things happen, the novelist argues, is ultimately determined not by propriety, man's law, but by providence, which may by God's.