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Lister ward
lit chemistry and ‘classical’ valency theory, and was an authority on river pollution and water supply. He held many important positions, including those of President of the Chemical Society and founder President of the Institute of Chemistry. And yet, compared with many Victorian scientists, he is little known today. Professor Russell began researching Frankland when he taught chemistry at Harris College, Preston Lancashire (now Polytechnic), about ten miles from Frankland’s birthplace, Garstang. The present volume could have been written only by someone with an intimate knowledge of north Lancashire. It reconstructs, in the context of local history, Frankland’s family background, childhood, schooldays, and years as a pharmacy apprentice. The ‘early years’ end with Frankland’s few months in London, at age 21, learning analytical chemistry. A subsequent volume will deal with his scientific career. Russell has drawn on Frankland’s privately published memoirs, extensive archives held by present members of the Frankland family (not previously accessible to scholars), and many local history sources. He has been able to illuminate considerably the ‘dark secret’ of Frankland’s illegitimate birth and the various influences which combined to produce a distinguished scientist from unpromising beginnings. It is a fascinating story. .I. Shorter Science and Civilisation in China. By Joseph Needham. Volume 5: Chemistry and Chemical Technology; Part 7: Military Technology; The Gunpowder Epic. Pp. xxxiii + 703. Cambridge University Press, 1987. f5o.ooo (sss.50).
Gunpowder is made from potassium nitrate, charcoal, and sulphur. This model study of the innovation and diffusion of a whole technological system shows how such an unlikely mixture came to be exploited. A ninth century alchemical curiosity found military use in lighting the burning oil known as ‘Greek Fire’. It was itself used as a weapon in bombs and in fire lances which were then adapted to emit missiles such as arrows aswell as flames. By tightly fitting the projectile to the barrel, the cannon was born, while exploiting the thrust of the fire lance led to the rocket. How these Chinese achievements came to Europe is painstakingly explored. On a yet broader canvas Needham also draws out the filaments of dependency that connected mediaeval gunpowder technology to the development of later steam and internal combustion engines, and of modern rocketry. These arguments are justified by what Needham himself calls a ‘museum of historical detail’ whose exhibits range from Marco Polo’s possible trip to China to the science fiction origins of 20th century rocketry. Despite its gruesome subject the sheer fun of visiting this superb ‘museum’ will surprise anyone who has not dared approach one of these imposing volumes. R. F. Bud
164
Lister Ward. By Martin Goldman. Pp. 167. Adam Hilger, Bristol. 1987. f 12.50.
This book gives an account of life as a patient in the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh seen through the writings of a man and a woman who were patients of Lister, Professor of Clinical Surgery there. William Henley wrote in verse about what he underwent during the treatment of tuberculosis of the foot. Margaret Mathewson was a prolific correspondent who was treated for the results of tuberculosis of the chest. It is convenient to have extracts from these writings available in book form, but the author goes on to attempt to reduce Lister’s reputation in a variety of ways. He suggests, for example, that the carbolic-acid regime was rather less important than popular opinion made it, and he also suggeststhat Lister’s own standards of hygiene in the hospital context were rather poor. My own opinion is that the author is mistaken in what he suggests, because he has not taken proper account of the knowledge and standards which existed at the time Lister began his work. B. Bracegirdle
Horace Darwin’s Shop. A History of the Cambridge Scientific Instrument Company 1879-1999. By M. J. G. Cattermole andA. F. Wolfe. Pp. 285. Adam Hilger, Bristol. 1987. f35.00.
A well-known phenomenon in the history of science is the invention of a new instrument opening up vast new areas of study, far beyond those anticipated by the original inventor. But it is not sufficient for a scholar to have a brilliant idea for a new instrument: that idea must be converted into hardware before it can prove its worth, and be commercially available before others can acquire and apply it in their own particular fields. The need in Cambridge in the 1880swas for someone who could build a new instrument on behalf of its inventor - who might himself be quite incapable of working metal. Horace Darwin (the youngest son of Charles Darwin) saw this need, filled it, and prospered. It was a time of rapid growth in technology, and Darwin’s willingness to innovate and manufacture - yet always within a framework of first-class craftsmanship - reaped its just reward when his shop grew into the highlyrespected Cambridge Instrument Company. This book chronicles the growth of the firm over the period 1848-1968. It is divided into two parts: Part I deals with the history of the Company; Part II concentrates upon particular instruments (like temperature recorders and galvanometers) with which its name and reputation were closely linked. It is a story which is closely tied to its period both socially and scientifically: modern scientists press buttons on anonymous oblong boxes whose workings they have no need or wish to understand, and craftsmanship in brass and mahogany has long since passed from the laboratory to the auction room. This book will certainly appeal to the
historian of technology, but is it too much to hope that some of the present generation of physics students will also wish to see how their science evolved not so very long ago? A. A. Mih
The Correspondence of Charles Darwin, Vol. 2,1997-194X Edited by Frederick BurkhardtandSydneySmith. Pp. 603. Cambridge University Press, 7987. f30.00
($37.50). At the beginning of this second volume, Charles Darwin has recently returned from the voyage on the Beagle; in the middle of the book he marries Emma Wedgwood; and by the end they have been living at Down House for 15 months. These were the years when, as his notebooks show, he came to his crucial conclusions about biological evolution, but there is no discussion of natural selection in the letters About half the 400 letters are to or from family or friends, the other half being largely concerned with scientific matters, such as the publications resulting from the voyage of the Beagle, Darwin’s correspondence as Secretary of the Geological Society, and general queries to naturalists. The mixture is quite appealing, and some of the lighthearted and charming letters between Charles and Emma are particularly attractive. In my review of the first volume, I commended the high standards of the transcription and editing, and the excellence of the published texts. These high standards are maintained in Volume 2 - indeed the annotations are more complete than in Volume 1. The peripherals are excellent too, particularly the biographical register, though there are a few trivial errors and omissions: for example, the ‘Table of relationship’ in the end-papers has been usefully revised, and the number of Charles’s aunts and uncles has been increased to four; perhaps a further increase to eight might be made in the next volume. At a time when science is under siege, it is heartening to see the handsome volumes of such a great scholarly edition beginning to extend along the bookshelf. My message to the editorial team is, ‘Congratulations, and please keep up the good work’. Desmond King-Hele The Age of Science. By David Knight. Pp. 25 7. Basil Blackwell, Oxford. 1986. f 77.50.
This work ought to be read by everybody with interests in the history of science. It synthesisesa generation of research that has hitherto been left in esoteric and inchoate form. One reason for the failure of professional historians of 19th century science to synthesise their developing understanding is the magnitude of their subject: contributions to individual disciplines numbered hundreds of thousands of articles and books. Dr Knight has coped by focusing on the style of science in Britain. International distinctions are caught by emphasising the respect for French and then German models held by scientists of the time. Other aspects of style are illustrated by reference to issues as diverse as debates
Gunpowder is made from potassium nitrate, charcoal, and sulphur. This model study of the innovation and diffusion of a whole technological system shows how such an unlikely mixture came to be exploited. A ninth century alchemical curiosity found military use in lighting the burning oil known as ‘Greek Fire’. It was itself used as a weapon in bombs and in fire lances which were then adapted to emit missiles such as arrows aswell as flames. By tightly fitting the projectile to the barrel, the cannon was born, while exploiting the thrust of the fire lance led to the rocket. How these Chinese achievements came to Europe is painstakingly explored. On a yet broader canvas Needham also draws out the filaments of dependency that connected mediaeval gunpowder technology to the development of later steam and internal combustion engines, and of modern rocketry. These arguments are justified by what Needham himself calls a ‘museum of historical detail’ whose exhibits range from Marco Polo’s possible trip to China to the science fiction origins of 20th century rocketry. Despite its gruesome subject the sheer fun of visiting this superb ‘museum’ will surprise anyone who has not dared approach one of these imposing volumes. R. F. Bud
164
Lister Ward. By Martin Goldman. Pp. 167. Adam Hilger, Bristol. 1987. f 12.50.
This book gives an account of life as a patient in the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh seen through the writings of a man and a woman who were patients of Lister, Professor of Clinical Surgery there. William Henley wrote in verse about what he underwent during the treatment of tuberculosis of the foot. Margaret Mathewson was a prolific correspondent who was treated for the results of tuberculosis of the chest. It is convenient to have extracts from these writings available in book form, but the author goes on to attempt to reduce Lister’s reputation in a variety of ways. He suggests, for example, that the carbolic-acid regime was rather less important than popular opinion made it, and he also suggeststhat Lister’s own standards of hygiene in the hospital context were rather poor. My own opinion is that the author is mistaken in what he suggests, because he has not taken proper account of the knowledge and standards which existed at the time Lister began his work. B. Bracegirdle
Horace Darwin’s Shop. A History of the Cambridge Scientific Instrument Company 1879-1999. By M. J. G. Cattermole andA. F. Wolfe. Pp. 285. Adam Hilger, Bristol. 1987. f35.00.
A well-known phenomenon in the history of science is the invention of a new instrument opening up vast new areas of study, far beyond those anticipated by the original inventor. But it is not sufficient for a scholar to have a brilliant idea for a new instrument: that idea must be converted into hardware before it can prove its worth, and be commercially available before others can acquire and apply it in their own particular fields. The need in Cambridge in the 1880swas for someone who could build a new instrument on behalf of its inventor - who might himself be quite incapable of working metal. Horace Darwin (the youngest son of Charles Darwin) saw this need, filled it, and prospered. It was a time of rapid growth in technology, and Darwin’s willingness to innovate and manufacture - yet always within a framework of first-class craftsmanship - reaped its just reward when his shop grew into the highlyrespected Cambridge Instrument Company. This book chronicles the growth of the firm over the period 1848-1968. It is divided into two parts: Part I deals with the history of the Company; Part II concentrates upon particular instruments (like temperature recorders and galvanometers) with which its name and reputation were closely linked. It is a story which is closely tied to its period both socially and scientifically: modern scientists press buttons on anonymous oblong boxes whose workings they have no need or wish to understand, and craftsmanship in brass and mahogany has long since passed from the laboratory to the auction room. This book will certainly appeal to the
historian of technology, but is it too much to hope that some of the present generation of physics students will also wish to see how their science evolved not so very long ago? A. A. Mih
The Correspondence of Charles Darwin, Vol. 2,1997-194X Edited by Frederick BurkhardtandSydneySmith. Pp. 603. Cambridge University Press, 7987. f30.00
($37.50). At the beginning of this second volume, Charles Darwin has recently returned from the voyage on the Beagle; in the middle of the book he marries Emma Wedgwood; and by the end they have been living at Down House for 15 months. These were the years when, as his notebooks show, he came to his crucial conclusions about biological evolution, but there is no discussion of natural selection in the letters About half the 400 letters are to or from family or friends, the other half being largely concerned with scientific matters, such as the publications resulting from the voyage of the Beagle, Darwin’s correspondence as Secretary of the Geological Society, and general queries to naturalists. The mixture is quite appealing, and some of the lighthearted and charming letters between Charles and Emma are particularly attractive. In my review of the first volume, I commended the high standards of the transcription and editing, and the excellence of the published texts. These high standards are maintained in Volume 2 - indeed the annotations are more complete than in Volume 1. The peripherals are excellent too, particularly the biographical register, though there are a few trivial errors and omissions: for example, the ‘Table of relationship’ in the end-papers has been usefully revised, and the number of Charles’s aunts and uncles has been increased to four; perhaps a further increase to eight might be made in the next volume. At a time when science is under siege, it is heartening to see the handsome volumes of such a great scholarly edition beginning to extend along the bookshelf. My message to the editorial team is, ‘Congratulations, and please keep up the good work’. Desmond King-Hele The Age of Science. By David Knight. Pp. 25 7. Basil Blackwell, Oxford. 1986. f 77.50.
This work ought to be read by everybody with interests in the history of science. It synthesisesa generation of research that has hitherto been left in esoteric and inchoate form. One reason for the failure of professional historians of 19th century science to synthesise their developing understanding is the magnitude of their subject: contributions to individual disciplines numbered hundreds of thousands of articles and books. Dr Knight has coped by focusing on the style of science in Britain. International distinctions are caught by emphasising the respect for French and then German models held by scientists of the time. Other aspects of style are illustrated by reference to issues as diverse as debates