This paper examines the concept of objectivity traceable in Francis Bacon's natural philosophy. After some historical background on this concept, it considers the question of whether it is not an anachronism to attribute such a concept to Bacon, since the word ‘objectivity’ is a later coinage and does not appear anywhere in his writings. The essay gives reasons for answering this question in the negative, and then criticizes the accounts given of Bacon's understanding of objectivity by Lorraine Daston and Julie Robin Solomon. It argues that this understanding is most directly and fully expressed in his discussion of the idols of the mind. In this connection, the paper notes Bacon's critical attitude to sixteenth-century scepticism and its relevance to the idea of objectivity implicit in his comments on the idols. In conclusion, the paper argues that Bacon was not a pure empiricist and describes the place assigned to theories and hypotheses in his natural philosophy.

This essay argues that the material culture of the Renaissance garden played an important role in the development of Cartesian mathematical and mechanical philosophy. Garden machinery such as Salomon and Isaac de Caus's automata and grottoes provided a model from which Descartes drew his clockwork conceptions of nature and the human body. This machinery was also crucial in the Cartesian explanation of the rainbow. Not simply an exercise in intellectual curiosity, Descartes's geometrical description of the rainbow in Discourse Eight of the Météores was a direct response to the engineers of artificial rainbow fountains which populated European princely gardens for much of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Rejecting distinctions between ‘natural’ and ‘artificial’ rainbows, Descartes used these fountains and his own constructions of artificial water drops to discern the causes of the rainbow by refraction and reflection and, by analogy, to suppose this the explanation of rainbows in the sky. This knowledge was then utilized to propose an alternative to the rainbow fountain, using refracting liquids to cast images in the sky. Descartes presented a ‘science of miracles’ destined not to eradicate wonder but to make transparent the wonders of traditional garden engineers and replace them with wonders derived from knowledge of mathematical and mechanical philosophy. As such, the ‘science of miracles’ gave a new emphasis to the mind of the natural philosopher as the essential component in the creation of wonders, rather than the traditional skills and experience of the artisan or engineer.

At the centre of nineteenth-century imperial authority sat the British Museum, which set the standard for discourse about natural history. This paper examines the meaning of those standards, exploring their important but little-understood role in ending the nineteenth-century species debate. The post-Reform Bill political assault on the authority of the British Museum is examined in the light of the ‘species problem’, and a surprising solution by John Edward Gray, keeper of the natural history collection, is seen as both a mediation and a closure of disputes over the meaning of species and the competence of naturalists. Gray's strategic solution – revealed in his copious notes on the parliamentary commissions investigating the affairs of the BM – embodied competence in institutional discourse and set the stage for the supposed ‘cynical’ definition of species later adopted in Darwin's Origin of Species, namely that species are merely what competent naturalists say they are.

This paper uses the work of John Richardson, an eighteenth-century brewing theorist, to explore the view that physical quantities, though they appear ‘natural’ or ‘given’, are actually contingent entities constructed to serve particular aims. It focuses on the pounds-per-barrel extract, a brewery-specific quantity which, in a reversal of the familiar position, seems self-evidently constructed to the general reader yet came to be accepted as ‘natural’ among its users. Central to Richardson's work in achieving this acceptance was an instrument, the saccharometer, which, by providing measurements of the quantity, legitimated it. Richardson presented both instrument and quantity as tailored to serving the particular needs of his fellow brewers, at the same time emphasizing their separateness from parallel work in distillery assessment, which had made Richardson's innovation possible but now threatened his projected consensus. Richardson's overall project encompassed the direct proportionation of material costs, retail prices and Excise duties to extract values as defined by the saccharometer, which he sought to monopolize. The scheme was not wholly successful, yet Richardson's quantity remained in brewery use into modern times. The end result, I contend, shows how a quantity, by becoming naturalized, may survive the loss of its initial theoretical underpinning.

This paper describes and analyses a hitherto unknown document of considerable historical significance: a narrative diary of the weather for every day of the year 1703. Available evidence enables us to assign the authorship of the document, with a high degree of probability, to an Oxford graduate residing in rural Worcestershire. The text presents plentiful natural philosophical speculations about the causes of meteorological phenomena, drawing both upon the ideas of leading scientific thinkers and upon vernacular lore concerning the weather. Furthermore, the diarist composed a remarkably personal document, in a richly descriptive style, cataloguing his physiological and emotional reactions to prevailing weather conditions. The document thus represents an empathic and discursive style of meteorology, an alternative to the contemporary efforts to establish objective weather records that have previously been recognized by historians.

Oft, as he travers'd the coerulean field,

And mark'd the Clouds that drove before the wind;

Ten thousand glorious systems would he build,

Ten thousand great ideas fill'd his mind;

But with the clouds they fled, and left no trace behind!

James Thomson, The Castle of Indolence (1748).

This essay examines Jane Marcet's 1806 Conversations on Chemistry in the context of a newly emerging ideology of science. As part of this emergence, a new public for chemistry had to be formed and clearly demarcated from that of ‘public men’ of science. Although this essay examines Marcet's relation to Humphry Davy's public lectures on chemistry, it focuses on the encouragement she received from the highly intellectual Geneva elite, to whom she was related. Comparing her work to the influential Bibliothèque britannique founded by members of this elite, it asks why a group of patrician intellectuals would want to cultivate women's interest in chemistry and encourage the popularization of science in the aftermath of a revolution which threatened their national identity and power. It suggests that the answer may lie in the recourse to science to establish moral and political authority in the aftermath of this very revolution.

While the study of Newton's religious views has been continuously expanding, it has not been brought to bear directly on Newton's career as an ‘experimental philosopher’. Historical perspectives on his optical experiments in particular affirm the historiographic separation between the religious and scientific aspects of his work. In this paper I examine the practical implication of Newton's theology of dominion on his early experiments on light and colours. While his predecessors had made experiments to collect evidence, I show that Newton conceived experimental research as a discipline of the practical understanding of the structure of light and the origins of colours. His conception of experimental reasoning followed his practical reflections on human beings as agents who belonged to God's dominion and who were created to serve its divine ends. These reflections suggested, more specifically, that the aim of natural philosophy was the discovery of divine rules that instrumentally constrained and facilitated human conduct in general, and perceptual judgement in particular. I show, moreover, that Newton's endeavour to subordinate experiment to divine worship had been foreshadowed by Boyle's writing on the theory and practice of the experimental philosophy.

This paper argues that Goethe's collections, in particular his mineralogical collections, had both public and private purposes. The public purposes were closely tied to the tradition of mineralogizing exemplified by the Freiberg Mining Academy. Abraham Gottlob Werner provided technologies for standardizing mineralogical terminology and identification, and Goethe hoped that these technologies would allow for a vast network of collectors and observers who would collate their observations and develop a model of the Earth's structure. His own cabinet, in particular his collection of rocks (Gebirgsarten), was to be a representative sample of rock formations in particular locations that could reveal features of the Earth's structure and history. Goethe was also responsible for the scientific collections of Jena University. He argued that if such collections were to be useful for teaching and research, a goal he strongly supported, they could no longer be treated as the private property of professors. He recognized that social relations within the University would have to be reordered if museums were to fulfil their epistemic functions. In this respect Goethe was on the side of the modern museum and opposed to the world of the private collection and all its idiosyncrasies. However, his own collections had very private and personal purposes. Using some of the ideas of Walter Benjamin as a foil, this paper tries to uncover some of the private passions that fuelled Goethe's almost insatiable collecting. Though these passions were peculiar to Goethe, I argue that historians of science should attend more to the passions and their place in the sciences.

Throughout his life, Newton searched for the machinery through which God creates, designs and sustains the world. He believed that the Creator is a God of Dominion who continuously preserves His creation through secondary mechanical causes or through direct, voluntary actions. God periodically intervenes in order to restore the pure and divine state of creation, deteriorated due to material interactions in a natural process of decay. The restoration, whether through matter or through chosen souls, is pure and simple, flowing equably along God's eternal duration. As time passes, a process of decay and corruption causes these pure states to deviate from the original divine path and they gradually begin to flow along distorted and distracted ways. Newton's youthful method of fluxions, though dealing with abstract mathematics, has a crucial role in revealing true knowledge about the God of creation and sustenance. The mathematical method captures and reveals the most fundamental truth about the mechanism of perception and the natural decline of all processes in Nature. This simple method is analogous to the simple creed, which God reinstills throughout history in religious founders and prophets assisting humans to worship God properly.

This paper deals with one of the first attempts to measure simple reactions in humans. The Swiss astronomer Adolph Hirsch investigated personal differences in the speed of sensory transmission in order to achieve accuracy in astronomy. His controversial results, however, started an intense debate among both physiologists and astronomers who disagreed on the nature of these differences. Were they due to different eyes or brains, or to differences in skill and education? Furthermore, they debated how to eliminate them. Some, for example, wanted to eliminate the observer, and prescribed the use of new technologies like the electro-chronograph or photography, while others believed in discipline and education. By debating the nature of these differences, astronomers and physiologists sketched both different conceptions of ‘man’ and different paths to objectivity. These diverse conceptions, moreover, were tied to current nineteenth-century debates, such as the benefits or disadvantages of railroads, telegraphy and the standardization of time and longitudes. By focusing on the debates surrounding the speed of sensory transmission, this paper reevaluates the history of astronomy, physiology and experimental psychology. Furthermore, in investigating astronomy's relation to the human sciences, it uncovers profound connections in the traditionally separate histories of objectivity and the body.

L'heure sera distribuée dans les maisons,

comme l'eau ou le gaz.

Adolph Hirsch

The narratives of stratigraphy in mid-nineteenth-century Britain were greatly augmented by new rock exposures arising from railway construction. Leading geologists quickly registered this vast new array of potential scientific knowledge and pressed the BAAS and, later, HM Government, to regularize the recording of ‘railway sections’. Artists simultaneously found in these sometimes vast rock cuttings a rich source of subliminal imagery. A systematic examination of the Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society reveals country-wide reporting and recording of railway sections. Leading geologists were among the contributors, but so too were railway engineers, demonstrating a growing alliance of practical and theoretical geology. Nor were leading geologists strangers to early rail travel. In the 1840s they ‘expressed’ to annual meetings of the British Association in all its varied provincial venues. William Buckland even gave classes on geology whilst travelling by train, in order better to display the successive rock strata to his students.

Ours is no coasting voyage by the sunny shores of some well-havened bay; we steer across the undiscovered oceans of truth, with compasses in need of correction, under the canopy of cloud and darkness which involves the origin of things.

J. Phillips, Esq., part of his presidential address to the Geological Society, 1859See Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society (hereafter QJGS) (1859), 15, p. lxi.

The National Institute of Science and the Arts, founded in 1795, consists of parallel academies, concerned with science, literature, the visual arts and so on. In the nineteenth century it represented a unique government-sponsored intellectual authority and a supreme court judgement, a power which came to be resented by innovators of all kinds. The Académie des sciences held a virtual monopoly in representing French science but soon this came to be challenged. In the period of the Second Empire (1852–70) we find a group of men carving out a new career for themselves as professional popularizers of science, commissioned to write regular articles in newspapers and journals. Although they had begun by simply reporting the meetings of the Académie des sciences, they soon widened their scope and even began criticizing the august Académie. Thus they represented the alternative voice of science, distinct from ‘official science’. These independent writers had their counterpart in painting and literature, both of which were developing radical new approaches in mid-century. When the very traditional Fine Art Academy refused to consider their paintings, painters like Cézanne and Manet found an alternative outlet. Writers too asserted their independence from the Académie française. There were not only many parallels between the independent practitioners in science, painting and literature but also new schools of ‘naturalism’ in painting and literature which looked to science as a model.

The introduction into the laboratory of the magic lantern and the arts of projection marked a change from putatively individual and mechanical to obviously collective and skillful perception in nineteenth-century German sciences. In 1860 Karl Friedrich Zöllner introduced an astro-photometer to astronomers who, by practising with it, became aware of their own tacit and ubiquitous skills. Zöllner was a showman who was aware of the personal skills involved in magic-lantern projection. Like showmen, nineteenth-century astronomers could also control and calibrate their vision with this instrument. Photometrists such as Zöllner were not only aware of subjectivity, but developed techniques to manipulate, control and to employ it in scientific judgements. This view stands in contrast to that of the scientists described by Lorraine Daston and Peter Galison, for whom ‘machines offered freedom from will – from the willful interventions that had come to be seen as the most dangerous aspects of subjectivity’. But with Zöllner's successful programme of instrumental subjectivity, acts of willful intervention were at the very centre of astronomical judgement.

In 1875 Francis Galton was the first to study twins as a test of the relative strength of heredity and environment. This paper examines Galton's work on twins, using his surviving working papers. It shows that his enquiry was larger and more systematic than previously realized. Galton issued several hundred questionnaires to parents of twins, with the aim of establishing how far the similarities and differences between twins were affected by their life experiences. The paper also discusses Galton's study in relation to his understanding of the physiology of twinning and his theory of heredity. The modern concept of monozygotic twins had not yet been established, and the similarity between Galton's work and modern twin studies should not be overstated. While Galton's work was important as a pioneering study, in some respects his conclusions went beyond his evidence. The paper finally examines whether Galton's twin studies influenced his position on the links between social class, heredity and social mobility, and surveys the evidence for his views on these issues.

Recent studies in nineteenth-century spiritualism have illuminated the social practice of the occult in various cultural contexts. Richard Noakes in his latest study on telegraphy and the occult in Victorian England, for instance, shows how the world of spiritualism and the world of technology were welded together by Victorian engineering schemes and money.R. Noakes, ‘Telegraphy is an occult art: Cromwell Fleetwood Varley and the diffusion of electricity to the other world’, BJHS (1999), 32, 421–59. This paper looks at another culture of occult practice which has often been neglected by historians of science: the role of spiritism in the making of German experimental psychology. Based on a debate focusing on the German astrophysicist Karl Friedrich Zöllner and the American medium Henry Slade, I will show how spiritistic experiments were situated in the emerging contexts of scientific practice, laboratories and disciplines.For a more external approach on Zöllner see C. Meinel, Karl Friedrich Zöllner und die Wissenschaftskultur der Gründerzeit, Berlin, 1991. ‘Spiritismus’ in German and ‘spiritualism’ in English refer to the study of ghosts. ‘Spiritualismus’ in German refers to the metaphysical and theological dimension of the spiritual. This study will also take a close look at the perception of spiritistic mediums as instruments by experimenters such as Zöllner.This perception dates back to the 18th century. S. Schaffer, ‘Deus et Machina’, La Lettre de la Maison française (1997), 9, 30–58. On the perception of experimental subjects as machines in Victorian culture see A. Winter, Mesmerized, Chicago, 1998, Chapter 3.

Things were in control and then they were not and then they were.

Sally Bushell, Under the Breadfruit TreeS. Bushell, Under the Breadfruit Tree, Cambridge, 1997, 22.

Shortly after he made a working model of his electromagnetic telegraph in 1837, Samuel F. B. Morse and his associates began an intense initiative to publicize and market it to the world. At first, using the social skills he had learned during his years as a portrait painter, Morse strove to gain the support of the upper classes in Europe. He and his agents saw the physical seats of institutions such as palaces and academy lecture halls as the most desirable settings for public demonstrations of the apparatus. To win public support back at home, they made a point of politicizing the invention by presenting it as an example of American mechanical ingenuity. Their efforts to market the invention were not confined to the United States, Britain and France, but included the rest of Europe and the Near and Far East as well. The telegraph promoters, presuming an oriental fascination with magic, endeavoured to exploit potential markets in the East, particularly the Ottoman Empire and Japan, by making the most of its wondrous effects. The Sultan's palace provided a most exotic setting for display of the electromagnetic telegraph.

Throughout the nineteenth century evolution theory and the possibility of reconciling it with Christian doctrine was a matter for free discussion among Catholics, but suddenly towards the end of the century the attitude of the Roman doctrinal authorities hardened. Nothing public was done but theologians, upon hearing that their theses had been examined in Rome and judged to be untenable, began to withdraw their books from sale, make public retractions and cease to discuss the subject. What processes lay behind these events, and who were the main persons responsible for what was effectively a U-turn in the official church attitude of Pope Leo XIII's pontificate, are questions that have been unanswerable until now. However, in 1998 the archives of the Holy Office, now renamed the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, were opened to scholars so that it has become possible to clarify these particular mysteries. This article does that for the first time, and the story it has to tell provides insights into the dynamics of cultural and intellectual interactions within the Catholic Church community and with the rest of the world. This Catholic story should be seen as something more than a struggle that took place within the ranks of the Catholic Church: it was an episode in the history of science and its cultural relations in the modern world.