A brief review of the Merton thesis shows that its restriction to England is arbitrary. An example from the historiography of modern physics suggests the possible payoff of an ecumenical Merton thesis and the means to explore it. A summary of the careers of men who practiced science literally in the church – men who built meridian lines in Italian cathedrals – indicates the range of social support of astronomical studies by Catholic institutions in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

Despite more than fifty years of debate on the Merton thesis, there have been few attempts to substantiate Merton's argument through empirically based comparative studies. This study of the Jesuit scientific tradition is intended to serve as a test of some of Merton's central claims.

Jesuit science is remarkable for its scope and longevity, and is distinguished by its markedly empirical and utilitarian orientation. In this paper I examine the ideological structure of the Society of Jesus and find at its core an “apostolic spirituality” that explains the legitimation of these forms of science within the Society. The values of apostolic spirituality (diligence, practicality, learning, etc.) strongly encouraged an activist mentality among Jesuits, which in turn led to the formation of apostolates in education, at court, and in the overseas missions. The values associated with apostolic spirituality led to the initial acceptance of active-empirical sciences within the Society, which became established as traditions because they were useful in fulfilling the goals of the Society's apostolates.

This study, by providing a qualified confirmation of Merton's central claims, suggests the importance of a supra-confessional sanctification of labor and learning in the growth of active-empirical sciences.

The argument developed herein, a countertheme to the Merton thesis, is that the ideal of science pursued by Galileo and his contemporaries in Italy would be unaffected by their Catholic faith if it could achieve apodictic proof in the subject of its investigations, in which case it would attain truth – the very goal sought by that faith. Unfortunately such proof was hard to come by in early seventeenth-century mechanics. A case study is proposed to show Galileo's difficulty demonstrating the tensile strength of columns in mathematical physics on the basis of improper suppositions, contrasting these with the suppositions of a contemporary, Giovanni de Guevara. The case study casts new light on the subject of Galileo's atomism and its relation to the Eucharist, refuting Redondi's claim that this was the real motive behind Galileo's trial in 1633. A further lesson relating to the Merton thesis can also be drawn, namely, that while challenges to science from religious orthodoxy may appear as temporary obstacles, in the long run they are an aid to science in its efforts to bring mankind closer to the truth.

Many of the epistemological issues that occupied natural philosophers of the seventeenth century were expressed visually in title-page engravings. One of those issues concerned the relative status to be accorded to evidence of the senses, as compared to knowledge gained by faith or reason. In title-page illustrations, the various arguments were often waged by a series of light metaphors: the Light of Reason, the Light of Nature, and the Lights of Sense, Scripture, and Grace. When such illustrations are examined with the authors' theological views in mind, it becomes apparent that in the first half of the seventeenth century, Catholic authors favored the Light of Reason as a source of truth, while Protestant authors favored the Light of Nature. Since by the end of the century it was widely accepted by scientists of all religious persuasions that certain knowledge must be grounded in sense evidence and the direct study of nature, one might argue that in this instance Protestantism was responsible for nurturing an important development of the Scientific Revolution. However, the skewed nature of the sample (the Catholics who used light metaphors were mostly Jesuits; the Protestants who did so mostly alchemists) and the large number of counterexamples available (many Catholic scientists believed in the ascendancy of the senses but failed to engage in metaphorical warfare) mitigate against taking this offshoot of the Merton thesis too seriously.

This paper, an attempt at an institutional history of ideas, compares patterns of reproduction of scientific knowledge in Catholic and Protestant educational institutions. Franciscus Eschinardus' Cursus Physico-Mathematicus and Jean-Robert Chouet's Syntagma Physicum are examined for the strategies which allow for accommodation of new contents and new practices within traditional institutional frameworks. The texts manifest two different styles of inquiry about nature, each adapted to the peculiar constraints implied by its environment. The interpretative drive of Eschinardus and a whole group of “modern astronomers” is here seen as pushing beyond the traditional task of “saving the phenomena,” towards celestial hermeneutics which is thoroughly experimental and mathematical. In spite of the insistence on physical interpretation of celestial phenomena, Eschinardus' astronomical discourse is yet constrained by a complex game of intellectual-political considerations. Commitment to the Thomistic organization of knowledge, which sets a boundary between a science of motion (physica) and the “geometry of heavens” (mathematical astronomy), suppresses any impulse to ask about the mechanical causes of celestial appearances. The Copernican cosmology is thus rejected qua an attempt to cross this guarded boundary. Chouet in Geneva, by contrast, frees himself from these constraints on the organization of natural knowledge. By strictly separating philosophy from theology, he can combine physics and astronomy, favor a Copernican cosmology and adopt a Cartesian mechanistic worldview. Moreover, unlike the Jesuit Eschinardus, Chouet seeks to explain natural phenomena in terms of causes, rather than just interpret them. Yet he does so within a philosophical discourse largely scholastic in nature, which best suits the conservative institutional framework in which he teaches. Whereas the Jesuit Eschinardus employs a new type of discourse without severing his links with the traditional Thomistic worldview, the Calvinist Chouet adopts a new Cartesian worldview and adapts it to a largely traditional type of discourse.

Science consists in progress by innovation. Scientists, however, are committed to all kinds of traditions that persist or recur in society regardless of intellectual and institutional changes. Merton's thesis about the origins of the scientific revolution in seventeenth-century England offers a sociohistorical confirmation of this revisionist view: the emergence of a highly rational scientific method out of the religious-ethical sentiments of the English Puritans implies that scientific knowledge does indeed grow out of – and not really against – customary modes of thought.

In tracing the intellectual origins of this view back to the religious controversy between Protestants and Catholics, the essay demonstrates that the essential conflict between them with regard to natural science stemmed from their antagonistic conceptions of tradition and its function in the production of genuine knowledge – of religious as well as of natural affairs. Whereas the Protestants believed only in those truths that are immediately revealed by God to each man through his reason, the Catholics adhered to truths that are related to men or “made” by them through culture and history.

The present paper argues that the metaphysical doctrine of the creation of the eternal truths constituted a philosophical response to what Descartes considered to be the overly close relationship between philosophy and theology.

The paper examines Descartes' “metaphysical turn,” focusing on the radical doubt and the creation of the eternal truths. The radical doubt, it is argued, was most important not as a device for defeating skepticism or attaining certainty, but as a means to practice the proper use of the intellectual faculty. God and the soul were the first objects of this practice, but the ultimate aim was contemplation of pure extension, the essence of matter. The doctrine of the creation of the eternal truths provided a metaphysical context within which Descartes could claim that the human mind completely comprehends the essences of natural things without thereby having to adopt either a scholastic Aristotelian or a Neoplatonic conception of such comprehension, both of which tended toward the theologically objectionable position that in grasping the essences of created things, the human mind comprehends God (either his absolute power or ideas in his mind).

This paper argues that the development of the history of science as a discipline should be seen in the context of the bitter nineteenth-century conflict between religion and secular culture in Catholic countries. In this context, neo-Thomist theologians were interested in formulating a Catholic strategy of accommodation to modern science and to modern social systems that would also permit rejection of both modern social theory and the positivist theory of science. While theologians such as Cornoldi and Mercier worked with the positivist image of science common in their day, Duhem opted to reformulate the conception of scientific theory. His religiously motivated assignment of a central place to the history of science – as the only way of hinting at the prospective rapprochement between the conventionalist sphere of scientific theory and the metaphysics of the real world – played a formative role in its development. Duhem's conception of the function of the history of science directed the attention of scholars in the field to medieval science as a point of origin for modern science.

Robert Merton may not remember it, but in the 1930s we met in Cambridge and took one or more walks together – 1 think they were along Trapelo Road in Waltham, then a rural lane. Our conversation must have been interesting, since I remember the episode, but I can only guess at the subject. Since Merton was working on the sociology of science in Newton's day and I had a long standing interest in the relations between mathematics and society, especially at the dawn of capitalism, it is very likely that we discussed the Hessen paper of 1931, published in Science at the Cross Roads. The paper had impressed me, as it had impressed several British scientists of the younger generation, including J. D. Bernal and Joseph Needham; Merton's dissertation, when it appeared, showed that Hessen's “provocative essay” had made its impression on his work as well. It also showed that he was aware of some of the oversimplifications of the Hessen lecture, as was G. N. Clark (see Clark 1937a; Clark 1937b, chap. 3). The almost total omission of the religious factor was one of them.

Written as one book, Science, Technology and Society in Seventeenth-Century England has become two. One book, treating Puritanism and science, has since become “The Merton Thesis.” The other, treating shifts of interest among the sciences and problem choice within the sciences, has been less consequential. This paper proposes that neglect of one part of the monograph has skewed readers' understanding of the whole. Society and culture contributed to institutionalization of science and the directions it took, neither one exclusively. Four aspects of the neglected chapters are examined: (1) their theoretical underpinnings, the conceptions providing foundations for this part specifically and for the monograph as a whole; (2) their comparative neglect, attributed partly to the absence of a cognitive constituency for their claims; (3) the problem of problem choice in science in Merton's work; and (4) the Merton monograph and later social constructionism:their differences and affinities.

In Merton's early work in the sociology of science three theses are identified: (1) economic and military influence in shaping early modern science; (2) the “Puritan spur” to scientific activity; (3) the critical role of a democratic social order for the support of science. These themes are located in the contemporary economic crisis of the 1930s, the rise of Nazism and fascism, and the emerging radical and Marxist political activism of scientists in the United States and the United Kingdom. Merton's interaction with this context is critical for understanding his choice of problems and issues for the nascent sociology of science. The enunciation of the four-part normative structure of science is closely identified with the political ideals of this context. Merton's transition from an interest in problems of science in society to his postwar concern with the social and organizational structures of science and the social behavior of scientists is framed against the anticommunist and anti-Marxist thrust of immediate postwar politics in the United States. The implications of this change for the paradigms of the sociology of science are noted.

On this occasion, I shall try to respond to the suggestions that I report what it was like to be a graduate student at Harvard in the early 1930s engaged in writing a dissertation which took the shape in print of the monograph, Science, Technology and Society in Seventeenth-Century England. This, quite some time before the sociology of science had emerged with a cognitive and social identity. I shall not attempt an account – let alone an explanatory account – of the micro-environment at Harvard back then that provided local context for that study. Indeed, I suspect that the Gerald Holton, Everett Mendelsohn and Arnold Thackray reconstructions come closer to the intellectual and social reality of that time and place than anything I might reconstruct.

Sorokin, Pitirim Alexandrovich, born January 21,1889, in the small village of Turia in Russia [died 1968]. Student at the Teachers' Seminary in the province of Kostroma in Russia (1903–6), at the evening school in St. Petersburg (1907–9), at the Psycho- Neurological Institute in St. Petersburg (1910–14); Magistrant of Criminal Law (1915); Ph.D in Sociology (1922); Privatdozent at the Psycho-Neurological Institute (1914–16), at the University of St. Petersburg (1916–17); Professor of Sociology at the same university (1919–22); Professor of Sociology at the Agricultural Academy (1919–22), at the University of Minnesota (1924–30); Chairman of the Department of Sociology at Harvard University from 1930. Member of the Executive Committee of the All-Russian Peasant's Soviet (1917); Secretary to the Prime Minister [ Kerensky ] (1917); member of the Russian Constitutional Assembly (1918); sentenced to death and finally exiled by the communist administration (1922); emigrated to the United States (1923), naturalized (1930). Member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, the American Sociological Association; honorary member of the International Institute of Sociology of the Czechoslovakian Academy for Agriculture, of the German Sociological Society, and of the Ukrainian Sociological Society; President of the International Institute for Sociology (1936–37). Member of the Greek-Orthodox Church.