According to the Oxford English Dictionary, 'First People(s)' (also written uncapitalized) is a chiefly Canadian term: '(Usually in plural) Indigenous peoples in Canada, considered collectively; First Nations, Inuit, and M etis peoples; (also more generally) the Indigenous peoples of any country or region'.The OED further dates the earliest known use of the noun to the title of a 1973 book, The first peoples in Quebec; a reference work on the history, environment, economic and legal position of the Indians and Inuit of Quebec, by Toby Ornstein. 1 I have found no scholarly accounts which adduce an earlier usage.However, some fifteen years earlier than Ornstein's book, Laurens van der Post can be seen using the term in whatas I will demonstrate-is an identical sense.This absence of a reference to Van der Post is particularly puzzling considering his two key texts which I discuss are frequently cited in other entries. 2 Van der Post was an Afrikaner South African who established himself as a leading public intellectual and prolific author in the UK during the second half of the 20th century.His public and more learned-literary career converged on the topic of the Bushman, 3 the collective name for a number

the manuscript may be relatively early (according to Hoskier, it was copied in southern Germany in the thirteenth century 21 ) and although it may represent an alternative branch of transmission, there is no clear evidence suggesting that it stands especially close to Bernard's original text, since older manuscripts do not invariably offer better readings. 22 Incidentally, it appears that Pepin did not consult the manuscript directly but relied entirely on Hoskier, since his edition does not mention a current repository.In fact, the manuscript was purchased by the Preuische Staatsbibliothek, Berlin, in 1932 and is kept today at Krak ow, Biblioteka Jagiello nska, as Berol.Ms lat.qu.915. 23 The third argument concerns the image of the rose.Bernard uses the word rosa no fewer than nineteen times in De contemptu mundi, with thirteen occurrences before l.952 of Book I.The word emerges in three distinct metaphorical meanings: first, the rose as a flower of paradise symbolises blood, particularly the blood of martyrs (together with the lily, which stands for the purity of the soul; cf.I.177, 318, III.665, 670).Second, it represents a sign of 'flourishing life', although the fleeting nature of all worldly things makes it wither quickly; in this context, it specifically refers to vibrant flesh or youth (contrasted by filth, hay, and briars; cf.I. 454-5, 736, 751-2, 762, 823, 865, 896, II.728).Third, the rose can signify anything that appears most impressive in the short term but that cannot endure over time nor hold any significance for eternal life.In this way, it serves as a metaphor for wealth (cf.I.883, II.874), the splendour of palaces (cf.II.915), and the ostensible glamour of power, which, if misused, turns out to be a burden (a 'thorn', cf.III.556).The passage in question (I.951-2) undoubtedly refers to the transience of pagan Rome.However, it is hardly surprising to encounter another variation of the rose metaphor instead of an explicit Roma here.In fact, it aligns very well with Bernard's poetic practice.All things considered, it seems very likely that Bernard of Morlaix wrote rosa, not Roma.Therefore, the title to Eco's novel probably does not feature an extravagant corruption but Bernard's own variant.While from a semiotic perspective it may be appealing to imagine The Name of Rome as an alternative title, this is not supported by the textual evidence.

The best known of several non-authorial continuations to the A version of Piers Plowman, by the reader who names himself ‘Johan But’ (A.12.106),1 contains reminiscences of ‘at least one’ of the longer versions B and C.2 As Anne Middleton has comprehensively demonstrated, the scribal character of the whole A Passus 12 (and not just the final lines 99–117 that report the ‘werkes’ and death of the dreamer Will) is suggested by the way it ‘mechanically’ replays at once the preceding action of the A version and both the beginning and the end of the BC continuation.3 A Passus 12 describes an encounter with Clergy and Scripture that duplicates (as I discuss further below) Will’s earlier conversation with Wit and Study, while simultaneously echoing Scripture’s ‘scorn’ for the dreamer that initiates the B-version continuation. Directed by Scripture to the house of her cousin and confessor Kynde Wit (A.12.38–54), as Study had earlier set him on the road to Clergy and Scripture (A.11.100–27), Will is accosted first by Hunger (A.12.63–76) and then by Fever (A.12.77–87), a messenger of Death whose arrival recalls the assaults of Elde in the final passus of B and C (B.20/C.22.95–96, 183–98). Elde there is also Death’s herald, and the fear and despair he produces in the dreamer (B.20/C.22.199–203) is answered in But’s continuation by Will’s desire to follow Fever (A.12.88). As Kynde in the final passus of B and C urges a desperate Will to turn to Unity and to stay there until summoned (B.20/C.22.204–6), so in John But’s report, the dreamer accepts Fever’s encouragement to continue to ‘lyue as þis lyf is ordeyned for the’ (A.12.90).4 Following this reprieve, Will is said to have ‘wrouȝthe þat here is wryten and oþer werkes boþe’ (A.12.101) before finally succumbing to death and leaving John But to make ‘þis ende’ (A.12.109) to his unfinished poem.

Martin Droeshout, the younger (1601-40 or later), known for the engraving of William Shakespeare that fronts the 1623 Folio, was the son of Michael Droeshout