Scholars of classical philosophy have long disputed whether Aristotle was a dialectical thinker. Most agree that Aristotle contrasts dialectical reasoning with demonstrative reasoning, where the former reasons from generally accepted opinions and the latter reasons from the true and primary. Starting with a grasp on truth, demonstration never relinquishes it. Starting with opinion, how could dialectical reasoning ever reach truth, much less the truth about first principles? Is dialectic then an exercise that reiterates the prejudices of one's times and at best allows one to persuade others by appealing to these prejudices, or is it the royal road to first principles and philosophical wisdom? In From Puzzles to Principles? May Sim gathers experts to argue both these positions and offer a variety of interpretive possibilities. The contributors' thoughtful reflections on the nature and limits of dialectic should play a crucial role in Aristotelian scholarship.

Every trainee in anaesthesia requires a thorough understanding of basic physiology and its application to clinical practice. Now in its second edition, this comprehensively illustrated textbook bridges the gap between medical school and reference scientific texts. It covers the physiology requirements of the Primary FRCA examination syllabus. Chapters are organised by organ system, with particular emphasis given to the respiratory, cardiovascular and nervous systems. The practical question-and-answer format helps the reader prepare for oral examinations, while 'clinical relevance' boxes translate the physiological concepts to clinical practice. This new edition has been thoroughly updated and revised throughout, and includes six new chapters, including the physiology of the eye, upper airway and exercise testing. It provides junior anaesthetists with an essential 'one stop' physiology resource.

Philosophy and the Young Child presents striking evidence that young children naturally engage in a brand of thought that is genuinely philosophical. In a series of exquisite examples that could only have been gathered by a professional philosopher with an extraordinary respect for young minds, Gareth Matthews demonstrates that children have a capacity for puzzlement and mental play that leads them to tackle many of the classic problems of knowledge, value, and existence that have traditionally formed the core of philosophical thought. Matthews's anecdotes reveal children reasoning about these problems in a way that must be taken seriously by anyone who wants to understand how children think. Philosophy and the Young Child provides a powerful antidote to the widespread tendency to underestimate children's mental ability and patronize their natural curiosity. As Matthews shows, even child psychologists as insightful as Piaget have failed to grasp the subtlety of children's philosophical frame of mind. Only in children's literature does Matthews find any sensitivity to children's natural philosophizing. Old favorites like Winnie the Pooh, the Oz books, and The Bear That Wasn't are full of philosophical puzzlers that amuse and engage children. More important, these stories manage to strip away the mental defensiveness and conventionality that so often prevent adults from appreciating the way children begin to think about the world. Gareth Matthews believes that adults have much to gain if they can learn to "do philosophy" with children, and his book is a rich source of useful suggestions for parents, teachers, students, and anyone else who might like to try.

Every week for a year, a professional philosopher and eight children at a school in Edinburgh met to craft stories reflecting philosophical problems. The philosopher, Gareth B. Matthews, believes that children are far more able and eager to think abstractly than adults generally recognize. This engaging book has profound implications for education and for our understating of the range of relationships between adults and children. With the example of these dialogues Matthews invites parents, teachers, and all adults to be open to those moments when they can share with children the pleasures of joint philosophical discovery.

So many questions, such an imagination, endless speculation: the child seems to be a natural philosopher--until the ripe old age of eight or nine, when the spirit of inquiry mysteriously fades. What happened? Was it something we did--or didn't do? Was the child truly the philosophical being he once seemed? Gareth Matthews takes up these concerns in The Philosophy of Childhood, a searching account of children's philosophical potential and of childhood as an area of philosophical inquiry. Seeking a philosophy that represents the range and depth of children's inquisitive minds, Matthews explores both how children think and how we, as adults, think about them. Adult preconceptions about the mental life of children tend to discourage a child's philosophical bent, Matthews suggests, and he probes the sources of these limiting assumptions: restrictive notions of maturation and conceptual development; possible lapses in episodic memory; the experience of identity and growth as "successive selves," which separate us from our own childhoods. By exposing the underpinnings of our adult views of childhood, Matthews, a philosopher and longtime advocate of children's rights, clears the way for recognizing the philosophy of childhood as a legitimate field of inquiry. He then conducts us through various influential models for understanding what it is to be a child, from the theory that individual development recapitulates the development of the human species to accounts of moral and cognitive development, including Piaget's revolutionary model. The metaphysics of playdough, the authenticity of children's art, the effects of divorce and intimations of mortality on a child--all have a place in Matthews's rich discussion of the philosophical nature of childhood. His book will prompt us to reconsider the distinctions we make about development and the competencies of mind, and what we lose by denying childhood its full philosophical breadth.