From τὰ φυσικά (ta physika) to physics – LVIII

In the previous episode of this series, I took a look at the two English mathematicians, who most influenced the young Isaac Newton (1642–1726 os) in the early stages of his intellectual development, Isaac Barrow (1630–1677) and John Wallis ((1616–1703). Today we take a first of, probably, several looks at Isaac Newton, who played a highly significant role in the evolution of physics, although it still wasn’t called that yet, when he combined terrestrial mechanics with astronomy und the umbrella of universal gravity in his magnum opus, Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica (The Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy) 1687.  

carview.php?tsp=
Source: Wikimedia Commons

The popular hyperbole calls Newton the greatest scientist of all time, which is of course rubbish. Apart from the fact that the use of the term scientist, first coined by William Whewell in 1831, is anachronistic it pays to pause and note that even as late as the end of the seventeenth century there was no such thing as a professional scientist in the modern sense and certainly no preprogrammed career path to become one. If we consider the period from the gradual revival of science in the High Middle Ages to the period of Newton the closest we get to professional scientists are the court astrologers, who were mostly also the astronomers. Even Kepler, who revolutionised astronomy and optics, earned his living mostly as a professional astrologer. 

The medieval university didn’t really take mathematics seriously and there was almost never chairs for mathematics. They were predominantly Aristotelian and what are now the physical sciences were handled philosophically not mathematically. When chairs for mathematics began to be created during the Renaissance in the fifteenth century, first in Krakau and then in the Renaissance universities of northern Italy, there were actually created to teach astrology to medicine students because of the prevailing mainstream astromedicine, or iatromathematics to give it its correct name. To do astrology you need to be able to do astronomy and to do astronomy you need to be able to do mathematics. Even at the beginning of the seventeenth century Galileo, as professor of mathematics in Padua, would have been required to teach astrology to the medical students, although we don’t have a direct record of his having done so. 

Chairs for mathematics and or astronomy gradually spread throughout Europe during the sixteenth century but Britain lagged well behind the continental developments. In England, Henry Savile (1529–1622), who travelled abroad to acquire his own mathematical education, established chairs for geometry and astronomy at Oxford University in 1619. Cambridge had to wait until 1663 before Henry Lucas (c. 1610–1663) bequeathed the funding for a professorship in his will, with Charles II establishing the Lucasian Chair in 1664. Newton was the second Lucasian Professor following in the footsteps of Isaac Barrow. Of course, the Gresham chairs for geometry and astronomy, set up at the beginning of the century, predate both of the university chairs but these were not teaching positions but public lectureships aimed at a general public. Henry Briggs (1561–1630) was both the first Gresham and the first Savilian professor for geometry.

To show that there no such thing as a science career path in the seventeenth century let us briefly recapitulate the life paths of four scholars who have featured in this series. who made serious contributions to the emerging mathematical sciences.

René Descartes (1596–1650) was the son of a minor aristocrat and politician. He was schooled in the Jesuit College of La Flèche meaning he received a first class education including probably the best mathematical education available in Europe at the time. He studied two years at the University of Poitiers graduating with a Baccalaureate and Licence in canon and civil law. However, instead of now becoming a lawyer he set off to become a military engineer but to do that he, a Catholic French aristocrat, went off to Breda in the Netherlands to join the Protestant Dutch States Army. Purely by chance in Breda, he met the Dutch candle maker turned school teacher Isaac Beeckman, who introduced him to both the corpuscular  mechanical theory and mathematical physics. This set him off on a winding path to becoming a mathematician, philosopher and physicist. 

carview.php?tsp=
Engraved portrait of Descartes based on painting by Frans Hals the Elder (c. 1582–1666) Source: Wikimedia Commons

Christiaan Huygens (1629–1695) was the son of a powerful aristocratic diplomat who enjoyed an absolutely first class private education before going to Leiden University to study law and mathematics followed by a period at the Orange College in Breda. He had been prepared his whole life to become a diplomat like his father but after one mission he decided the life was not for him he withdrew to the family home and supported by his father became a private scholar studying a wide spectrum of the mathematical sciences. Later he would be become a paid scholar in the new French Académie des sciences. That the Académie employed paid scholars was an advantage over the rival Royal society in London, which only paid Robert Hooke as curator of experiments. 

carview.php?tsp=

As we saw John Wallis (1616–1703) had perhaps the weirdest life path for a scientist. The son of a cleric he also became a cleric occupying various church positions. Purely by chance he discovered a talent for cryptography and became the cryptologist of the parliamentary party during the Civil War and Interregnum. In 1649, Cromwell appointed him, a man with no formal education in mathematics, Savilian Professor of Geometry at Oxford, a post he held for fifty years going on to become one of Europe’s leading mathematical authorities having spent his first couple of years in the post teaching himself the full spectrum of mathematics.

carview.php?tsp=
Portrait of John Wallis by Godfrey Kneller Source: Wikimedia Commons

Isaac Barrow (1630–1677) the son of a draper born into a family of many prominent scholars and theologians. A graduate and fellow of Trinity College Cambridge he taught himself mathematics and the natural sciences with a small group of like-minded fellows. Leaving England in 1655 because of the rise of puritanism he travelled extensively through Europe and Asia Minor for four year, deepening his impressive linguistic abilities. Returning in 1659 he was appointed both Regius Professor of Greek at Cambridge and three years later Gresham professor of geometry. In 1663, he was appointed the first Lucasian Professor, resigning the Regius and Gresham professorships in 1664. In 1669, he resigned the Lucasian chair in order to devote his time to theology. 

carview.php?tsp=
Portrait of a young Isaac Barrow by Mary Beale (1633–1699) Source: Wikimedia Commons

Although their life paths differ substantially, all four of our mathematical scholars have in common that they come from the upper, educated, well off strata of society, two of them were even aristocrats,  and could afford the so-to-speak luxury of pursuing a career in still not really established mathematical disciplines. This, as we will see, was not true for Isaac Newton. 

Born in manor house of the hamlet of Woolsthorpe-by-Colsterworth near Grantham in Lincolnshire on  Christmas Day 1642, on the Julian calendar, Isaac was the son of the yeoman farmer Isaac Newton and his wife Hannah Ayscough. Isaac senior was not only uneducated but could not even sign his own name. He was however not poor and was a successful, prosperous farmer, who unfortunately died three months before his son’s birth.

carview.php?tsp=
Woolsthorpe Manor Source: Wikimedia Commons

His mother Hannah, however, came from higher social strata than her husband, from a family that valued education, her brother the Rev William Ayscough MA was a graduate of Trinity College Cambridge.

When Isaac was just three years old, Hannah married the Rev. Barnabus Smith and went to live with him in his parish of North Witham a mile and a half away, leaving Isaac in Woolsthorpe Manor in the care of his maternal grandmother. Eight years later Barnabus died and Hannah returned to Woolsthorpe with Isaac’s three step siblings. Two year later, Isaac, now twelve, was sent off to the grammar school in Grantham, where he lodged with the local apothecary, Mr Clark. Isaac lived an isolated life at school and tended to neglect his studies, which basically consisted just of Latin, but always did just enough to remain school primus.

carview.php?tsp=
The grammar school in Grantham, Lincolnshire, attended by Isaac Newton. Engraving, ca. 1820.
Welcome Collection

At the age of sixteen Hannah removed him from the school and by 1659 he was living back in Woolsthorpe, where Hannah tried to make a farmer out of him. This proved to be a dismal failure and the school master Henry Stokes and his uncle William Asycough persuaded Hannah to let him finish his education and go to university. Stokes even remitted his school fees to convince the reluctant widow. 

He graduated school primus and in June 1661 he was admitted to Trinity College Cambridge as a subsizar, this is a student whose fees are partially remitted in return for which he works as a servant for other students. Hannah Ayscough Newton Smith was a very wealthy woman so, why did she force her son to earn his way through college? She also only gave him an allowance of £10 pa. The major theory is that this was her revenge for being pressured into letting him go to university at all but I think there was an element of puritanism, he should not expect to be spoon fed but should learn the value of money. 

carview.php?tsp=
575 map showing the King’s Hall (top left) and Michaelhouse (top right) buildings before Thomas Nevile’s reconstruction. Source: Wikimedia Commons

It would seem logical to assume that Isaac went up to Trinity because it had been the college of his maternal uncle, William Ayscough, who had pressured Hannah into sending him to university but there is a second possible source of influence in this issue. There is slight evidence that Isaac served as subsizar to the Trinity fellow, Rev. Humphrey Babington, rector of Boothby Pagnell and brother of Katherine Babington, a friend of Hannah’s and the wife of William Clark the Grantham apothecary where Newton boarded as a schoolboy. Later, Newton stayed with Babington for a time during the summer in 1666-67. It is possible that that the Rev. Babington had recognised Newton’s abilities and taken him under his wing in 1661. 

carview.php?tsp=
“Sir Isaac Newton. when Bachelor of Arts in Trinity College, Cambridge. Engraved by B. Reading from a Head painted by Sir Peter Lily in the Possession of the Right Honorable Lord Viscount Cremorne.”  National Portrait Gallery vis Wikimedia Commons

The undergraduate curriculum in Cambridge in the 1660s was little changed from that when the university was founded more than four centuries earlier. This meant Aristotle, Aristotle and more Aristotle, a diet that didn’t appeal to the young Isaac, who remained a mediocre student. Newton was a disciplined note taker all of his life and we know from his own records that he didn’t actually finish any of his set books. By the 1660s standards had fallen so low in Trinity that basically any student who stayed the course for four years could graduate. So, despite his lack of engagement Isaac duly graduated BA in 1664.

The next step was to apply for a scholarship, which would enable him to continue his studies, and this is where his lack of effort almost caused him to stumble. There were a limited number of scholarship and a larger number of excellent potential candidates and it seemed that the lacklustre Isaac was not in the running. However, somebody in the background pulled some strings and he was granted a scholarship on 28 April 1664, enabling him to study for another four years for his MA and making him financially independent for the first time in his life. It is not clear who did the string pulling. It might possibly have been Isaac Barrow who had examined Newton on Euclid for his scholarship and found him wanting or more possibly the Rev Babington, now a highly influential figure in Trinity. In 1667, Babington became one of the eight senior fellow, the group that controlled the college.

What now followed in the years from 1664 up to 1672, when Newton published his first paper, is one of the most impressive period of self-study ever undertaken, including the mythical Annus mirabilis, the year that Newton spent at home in Woolsthorpe Manor having been sent down from Cambridge because of the plague in 1665-66. During this period Newton taught himself the modern mathematics, astronomy, mechanics, and optics utilising the work of the leading scholars in these fields, extending and going beyond them and creating his first contribution to these fields. I’ve written a long blog post outlining all that he did over the second half of the 1660s and am not going to repeat it  here. When he entered the 1670s Isaac stood at the beginning of the process that would see him become the most powerful natural philosopher in Europe. 

3 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

Much Ado About Nothing

Regular readers will be well aware that a Renaissance Mathematicus book review is usually anything but short. I try as far as possible to give an accurate, informative,  outline sketch of the actual contents of the book under discussion. This leads automatically to a lengthy essay style review, the aim of which is to give potential readers a clear picture of what exactly they can expect if they decide to invest their time and money  in the volume in question. Given this approach to reviewing, how can I produce a Renaissance  Mathematicus style review of a book that is seven hundred and forty pages long and contains thirty nine academic papers covering a very wide array of different aspects of a single topic without it turning into a seemingly never ending essay? The simple answer is, I can’t so, what follows will be far less detailed and informative than is my want. 

So, what is the topic and what is the book that gives this topic so much attention? The topic is one that has fairly often put in an appearance here at the Renaissance Mathematicus, zero and the book is The Origin and Significance of ZeroAn interdisciplinary Perspective.[1] 

carview.php?tsp=

The book is the result of a cooperation between Closer to Truth, a broadcast and digital media not-for-profit organisation presenting a weekly half-hour television show which airs continuously since 2000 on over 200 PBS and public TV stations, and the Zero Project Foundation, which was set up in the Netherlands in 2015. Closer to Truth is the baby of the book’s one editor Robert Lawrence Kuhn and the Zero Project Foundation was set up by the book’s other editor Peter Gobets, who unfortunately passed away just before the book was published. You can view a Closer to Truth video on the Zero Project here.  and read about Closer to Truth here 

The book opens with a ten page preface in which Kuhn, a philosopher, talks about his life-long obsession with the concept of nothing and discusses a hierarchy of definition of nothing. The twelve page introduction from Gobets explains the motivation behind the Zero Project, its cooperation with Closer to Truth and the structure and intention of the book itself. 

The book is in four parts, whereby Part 0 consists of fifteen papers on Zero in Historical Perspective. Part 1 has sixteen paper on Zero in Religious, Philosophical and Linguistic Perspective, the papers  are as wide ranging as the title suggests. Part 2 Zero in the Arts is very short consisting of a very brief introduction by Gobets to eight art works by the artist British-Indian sculptor Sir Anish Mikhail Kapoor (b. 1924) devoted to Kapoor’s visualisation of the Buddhist concept of the void. Part 3 has seven papers under the title Zero in Science and Mathematics

The papers vary considerably, in length, in academic depth, some are fairly general and superficial, some are deeply researched, and writing quality i.e. readability but this is too be expected in a book that tries to pack so many different viewpoints into one volume. At times I got the feeling that some judicious editing would have improved it in general, less would have been more.

As somebody, who is primarily a historian of mathematics it is, of course, Part 0 Zero in Historical Perspectivethat most interested me. The section opens with two papers relating to the multiple appearances of zero as a concept, as a placeholder and as a number in different cultures and the historical problems of trying to establish if, when and how  influences or exchanges took place between those cultures and concepts. Neither paper is particularly helpful and the second Connecting Zeros by Mayank N. Vahia gives prominence to an ahistorical myth. He writes:

Indians were the first to work out the algebra of zero and opened the window to a completely new class of mathematics.

This was not true for the Europeans, to whom life without one was unimaginable. One was the natural smallest number for them. Zero made them uncomfortable. All cultures believed in one form or another, that there exists a Great God. This was the proverbial “One”. This Great Got then created the universe and the many variation in life. The one therefore pervades everything and remains even when all else is gone. 

In early Europe it was forbidden to study zero [my emphasis] as it was considered unnatural and against the working of the Great One who would always be present. 

I could write a whole blog post taking this heap of garbage apart. It comes as no surprise that it was written by a retired engineer who “has become interested in understanding the origin and growth of astronomy and science in India”. He should start by learning something about comparative religion about which he displays an unbelievable ignorance. Perhaps he could explain who the “Great God” is/was in pantheistic Hinduism? Although he doesn’t define what he means by early Europe, one has to assume he means the Middle Ages with its Christian culture, which I’m sorry to tell him, which, despite the widespread myth, never forbade the study of zero. 

Things improve when we get to the histories of zero in the individual cultures. There is an excellent paper, Babylonian Zero on the sexagesimal place-value number system in Mesopotamia and the introduction of a place holder zero and the separate concept of nothing as the result of an arithmetic operation.

carview.php?tsp=

There are two good papers on the Egyptian concepts of zero and nothing, Aspects of Zero in Ancient Egypt and The Zero Concept in Ancient Egypt, the latter includes a brief section on the Mayan concept of zero. Followed by an equally good one on zero in ancient Chinese mathematics, On the Placeholder in Numeration and the Numeral Zero in China.

carview.php?tsp=

As to be expected India features next with a short paper on the appearance of numerals in Reflection on Early Dated Inscriptions from South India followed by a longer one tracing the path from the religious term Śūnyameaning empty or void to the numeral zero, From Śūnya to Zero – an Enigmatic Journey, which includes section on the Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Incas, the Maya, China, Greece and India with reflection of the reception in Arabic and European culture. The two paragraphs here on the Incas and the Maya are the only mention of the development of zero in Middle America a serious lacuna in the book. This is followed by an essay on The Significance of Zero in Jaina Mathematics an interesting branch of Indian mathematics, somewhat outside the mainstream. 

carview.php?tsp=

Now we get the bizarre rantings of Jonathan J. Crabtree, Notes on the origin of the First Definition of Zero Consistent with Basic Physical Laws. Crabtree has been wittering on about his “great discovery” in elementary mathematical pedagogy to my knowledge for at least twenty years and an Internet search shows that it is closer to forty years. Crabtree thinks that English language elementary mathematics teaching is a disaster because it uses an at best ambiguous at worst false definition of multiplication. I write English language because the pesky British spread this abomination through the textbooks it distributed throughout the Empire. Crabtree attributes this pedagogical error to Henry Billingsley’s false translation of Euclid’s definition of multiplication. To this he has added that Europe didn’t understand the true nature of zero because the Arabs mistranslated Brahmagupta.  

Up next we next have a somewhat bizarre four page paper, Putting a Price on Zero about a historian of mathematics asking a class of mathematicians to explain how they would allocate royalties to the various cultures which are claimants for the invention of zero. A waste of printing ink in my opinion. 

Returning to more scholarly realms we now have an interesting article on a famous zero artifact, Revisiting Khmer Stele K-127. This stone stele discovered in1891 on the east bank of the Mekong River in Sambaur contains the date 604 of the śaka era, i.e. 682 CE, and is the oldest known inscription of the numeral zero.

carview.php?tsp=

Moving forward in time we get an essay on zero in Arabic arithmetic, The Medieval Arabic Zero. Comprehensive, detailed and highly informative this article meets to highest standards and one wished that it might have been used as a muster for the whole volume. This is followed by an excellent paper on Islamic numerals, Numeration in the Scientific Manuscripts of the Maghreb.

carview.php?tsp=

The final paper in Part 0, The Zero Triumphant is about the Tarot. This, however, is not the fortune telling Tarot but the original 15th century Italian card game, which was originally called ‘trionfi’ (i.e., ‘triumphs’ or ‘trumps’). This was played with an amalgamation of two packs of cards, the four-suited deck of playing cards brought into Europe via the Mamluk Empire from the Muslim Near East and a deck of 22 allegorical images originating in medieval Christian iconography. The Islamic deck was numbered with Hindu-Arabic numerals and the European Trumps cards had Roman numerals. The Fool or Crazy One (Il Mato or le Fol) is numbered 0.

carview.php?tsp=

A fascinating paper that is however flawed by repeating the myth served up in the second paper Connecting Zeros:

The concept of zero did not exist in the classical mathematics of the Greeks and Romans. And it was an abomination at first to the Christian West. What use did good Christians have for nothingness? God created something not nothing.

As noted above this is ahistorical bullshit. 

Each of the papers as footnotes and its own, oft very extensive, bibliography, and the book has a usable general index. Some but not all of the papers are illustrated. The book closes with an Epilogue by Peter Gobets with more thoughts about the Zero Project and the books role in it. 

Based on what I’ve read, and I admit to not having read the whole volume, I could have titled this review, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. There are some excellent papers, some that are somewhat iffy and some that probably should not have made it into print. It is actually quite affordable given that it’s a Brill publication the hardback and the PDF both waying in at  €100 plus VAT on the publishers website but I’m not sure I would recommend buying it rather than borrowing it from a library to read the bits that interest the individual reader. I do have one last complaint, the book is so thick, so heavy, and so tightly bound that I literally found it impossible to find a way to read it comfortably. 


[1] The Origin and Significance of ZeroAn interdisciplinary Perspective, edited by Peter Gobels and Robert Lawrence Kuhn, Brill, 2024.

4 Comments

Filed under Book Reviews, History of Mathematics, Uncategorized

From τὰ φυσικά (ta physika) to physics – LVII

In the early modern period England lagged well behind the European continent in the development of the natural sciences and mathematics. We are now rapidly approaching the man whose work would not only caught up to these developments but also took the lead in mathematics, optics, physics, and astronomy, Isaac Newton (1642–1726 os). Newton represents a high point in this series but not yet the end point. As we have already seen in recent episodes, Newton’s work was heavily influenced by continental scholars. His foundational three laws of motions in Principia took the law or principle of inertia from Isaac Beeckman (1588–1637) via René Descarte (1596–1650) and were influenced in their conception and form by the three laws of motion in the Horologium Oscillatorium (1673) of  Christiaan Huygens (1629–1695) However, before we plunge into Newton and his work, I want to take a brief look at two English scholars, Isaac Barrow (1630–1677) and John Wallis (1616–1703), who exercised a strong influence on Newton’s mathematical approach to physics, which stood in strong contrast to the prevailing mechanical approach of the European scholars. Contrary to popular opinion Barrow never taught Newton but did, famously, recommend him as his successor as Lucasian professor of mathematics.  It should be noted that Newton’s Cambridge was still basically a medieval Aristotelian university in which mathematics played a very minor role so, his adoption of a mathematical approach to physics was a radical move. 

Isaac Barrow was born, the son of a draper, into a family with many prominent scholars and theologians. He originally attended Charterhouse School but because of his bad behaviour, his father transferred him to Felsted School in Essex where John Wallis had also been educated. He entered Trinty College Cambridge in 1646, graduated BA in 1649, was elected fellow and graduated MA in 1652. 

carview.php?tsp=
Portrait of a young Isaac Barrow by Mary Beale (1633–1699) Source: Wikimedia Commons

In the 1650s Barrow devoted much of his time and efforts to the study of mathematics and the natural sciences together with a group of young scholars dedicated to these pursuits that included John Ray (1627–1705) and Ray’s future patron Francis Willughby (1625–1672) who had both shared the same Trinity tutor as Barrow, James Duport (1606–1679). Barrow embraced the mathematical and natural science of Descartes, whilst rejecting his metaphysics, as leading to atheism. In this period Barrow produced epitomes of Euclid’s Elements and his Data, as well as of the known works of Archimedes, the first four books of Apollonius’ Conics and The Sphaerics of Theodosius. Barrow used the compact symbolism of William Oughtred (1574–1660) to produce the abridged editions of these classical works of Greek mathematics.

Because of the rise of puritanism Barrow left England in 1655 and ravelled extensively through Europe and Asia Minor, first returning to Cambridge in 1659. Through the support of John Wilkins (1614–1672) he was appointed Regius Professor of Greek at Cambridge followed in 1662 by his appointment as professor of geometry at Gresham College. On the creation of the Lucasian Chair for Mathematics in 1663 Barrow was, once again on the suggestion of Wilkins, appointed as it first occupant. In 1664 he resigned both the Regius and the Gresham professorships. As Lucasian professor he lectured on geometry and optics. He was immensely knowledgeable of the new analytical mathematics possessing and having studied intently the works of Galileo, Cavalieri, Oughtred, Fermat, Descartes and many others however he did not follow them in reducing mathematics to algebra and analysis but went in the opposite directions reducing arithmetic to geometry and rejecting algebra completely. As a result, his mathematical work was at one and the same time totally modern and up to date in its content whilst being totally old fashioned in its execution. Although presented geometrically Barror developed a fairly advance system of calculus containing amongst other things the first generalised formulation of the fundamental theorem of calculus. Newton acknowledged his influence and although Gottfried Leibniz (1646–1716) denied being influenced by Barrow, he is known to have bought the Lectiones geometricae when they were published in 1670.

carview.php?tsp=
Source

Barrow prepared his optics lectures for publication assisted by his successor as Lucasian Professor, Isaac Newton, who was at the time delivering his own optics lectures, and who proof read and corrected the older Isaac’s manuscript. Building on the work of Kepler, Scheiner and Descartes, Barrow’s Optics Lectures was the first work to deal mathematically with the position of the image in geometrical optics and as such remained highly influential well into the next century. It is important to note that Barrow rejected the Cartesian mechanical interpretation of optics preferring a return to a purely mathematical presentation. In general, he believed in a mathematical presentation of all of the physical science echoing and almost certainly influencing Newton’s own Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica with its emphasis very much on the Mathematica

carview.php?tsp=
Matthew Noble (1817–1876) ; Isaac Barrow (1630-1677); Trinity College, Cambridge;

Barrow’s further career as a theologian doesn’t interest us here so we can turn our attention to John Wallis. Wallis, who went on to become one of the most important English mathematicians in the seventeenth century was a mathematical autodidact. Wallis was born the third child of John Wallis minister of the church at Ashford in Kent, who died when he was six years old. He attended various grammar schools and learnt Latin, French, Greek and Hebrew as well as studying but didn’t learn any mathematics, which was not taught at these schools because as Wallis wrote in his autobiography:  

For mathematics, at that time with us, were scarce looked on as academical studies, but rather mechanical – as the business of traders, merchants, seamen, carpenters, surveyors of lands and the like.

However, during the Christmas holidays in 1631 his brother introduced him to arithmetic which he was learning it as preparation for a trade. Wallis remarked that mathematics:

… suited my humour so well that I did thenceforth prosecute it, not as a formal study, but as a pleasing diversion at spare hours …

Around Christmas 1632, he went up to Emmanuel College Cambridge, where he graduated BA in 1637 and MA in 1640. During this time, he studied little or no mathematics. He was ordained and appointed chaplain first to Sir Roger Darley at Butterworth in Yorkshire and the between 1642 and 1644 at Hedingham in Essex. Around this time, he discovered a talent for cryptography:

… one evening at supper, a letter in cipher was brought in, relating to the capture of Chichester on 27 December 1642, which Wallis in two hours succeeded in deciphering. The feat made his fortune. He became an adept in the cryptologic art, until then almost unknown, and exercised it on behalf of the parliamentary party.

In 1644, Wallis became secretary to the clergy at Westminster and at the same time became a member of one of the groups that would later go on to found the Royal Society. In 1647, he stumbled across Willian Oughtred’s Clavis Mathematicae, which he proceeded to devour in a couple of weeks, finally becoming the mathematician that was apparently his destiny, writing his first mathematics text, Treatise of Angular Sections, which remained unpublished for forty years. 

In 1649, seemingly out of the blue, Cromwell appointed him Savilian Professor of Geometry at Oxford. It should be pointed out that he had no formal mathematical education, had never worked as a mathematician, nor had he ever published any mathematics. He would, however, go on to hold the post for more that fifty years filling it with distinction.

carview.php?tsp=
Portrait of John Wallis by Godfrey Kneller Source: Wikimedia Commons

With a rare energy and perseverance, he now took up the systematic study of all the major mathematical literature available to him in the Savilian and the Bodleian libraries in Oxford. According to the statutes of his chair, Wallis had to give public lectures on the thirteen books of Euclid, on the Conics of Apollonius, and on all of Archimedes’ work. He was also to offer introductory courses in practical and theoretical arithmetic—with a free choice of textbooks therein. Lectures on other subjects such as cosmography, plane and spherical trigonometry, applied geometry, mechanics, and the theory of music were suggested but not obligatory according to the statutes. (Christoph J. Scriba, Isaac Barrow, Complete Dictionary of Scientific Biography) 

Firmly established in the leading position for mathematics in England, Wallis went on to write and publish books that introduced the newly developing continental mathematics to the island. His first publication in this direction was De sectionibus conicis (1655), a seemingly traditional topic but which he presented in a new way. Having introduced the conic sections, he handled them analytical as algebraic curves, not as geometrical forms, in the style of the analytical geometry of Descartes, actually improving on Descartes presentation. This was before van Schooten’s expanded Latin edition of Descartes’  Géométrie had been published. 

carview.php?tsp=

In the same year Wallis also finished his most important book Arithmetica Infinitorum, although the official publication date was 1656. This systemised and extended the analytic methods of Descartes and above all Cavalieri’s geometry of indivisibles, which he had already introduced in De sectionibus conicis:

“I suppose any plane to be made up of an infinite number of parallel lines, or as I would prefer, of an infinite number of parallelograms of the same altitude; (let the altitude of each one of these be an infinitely small part1/∞ of the whole altitude, and let the symbol ∞ denote Infinity) and the altitude of all to make up the altitude of the figure.”

Although he learnt the method from Torricelli’s Opera Geometrica (1644), Wallis attributes this  new methodology to Cavalieri, because Torricelli does, without acknowledging Torricelli’s own substantial contributions, of which he was not aware, not having read Cavalieri’s own work.

carview.php?tsp=

In 1685, Wallis published in English his Treatise of AlgebraBoth Historical and Practical, which as the title states contained a historical survey of the subject. Amongst other things it contained the first complete publication of  the Artis Analyticae Praxis ad Aequationes Algebraicas Resolvendas  of Thomas Harriot (c. 1560–1621). It had been first published posthumously in 1631 but unfortunately his mathematical executors Torporley (1564–1632) and Walter Warner (1563–1643) did not understand his innovations, such as negative and complex roots of equations and removed them before publication. Wallis who was virulently nationalist, actually accused Descartes of having plagiarised Harriot’s work. Unlike Descartes, Wallis fully accepted both negative and complex roots whilst also demonstrating that Descartes rule of signs was incorrect. 

carview.php?tsp=

In physics, as already noted in an earlier episode, Wallis was one of those, along with Christopher Wren (1632–1723) and Christiaan Huygens (1629–1695), who corrected Descartes false laws of collision in 1668. However, unlike the other two who confined their theory to perfectly elastic bodies (elastic collision), Wallis considered also imperfectly elastic bodies (inelastic collision). This work introduced the concept of the conservation of momentum, which played a central role in Newton’s dynamics. This was followed in 1669 by a work on statics(centres of gravity), and in 1670 by one on dynamics: these provide a convenient synopsis of what was then known on the subject.

Newton studied Wallis’ Arithmetica Infinitorum intensely in the years 1664 and 1665 and it exercised a major influence on his  mathematical development. Newton later acknowledge that influence in a letter to Leibniz. Later Newton and Wallis became friends and Wallis was one of Newton’s most vocal supporters in his dispute with Leibniz over the calculus. He also continually pressured Newton to publish his Opticks, which had been essentially composed in the 1670s but which he held back do to the aggressive criticism of his first paper on optics in 1671.

The influence of both Isaac Barrow and John Wallis played a significant role in the intellectual development of both Isaac Newton the mathematician and Isaac Newton the physicist as the young scholar worked his way from the philosophical science of Descartes to his own mathematical presentation. 

9 Comments

Filed under History of Geometry, History of Mathematics, History of Optics, History of Physics

Christmas Trilogy 2025 Part 3: Pictures of Johannes

After Newton and Babbage, today we look at the surviving images of the astronomer Johannes Kepler (1571–1630). Kepler was born the son of an innkeeper’s daughter and a mercenary, who deserted his family when Johannes was just five years old. This is not the environment in which parents have portraits painted of their children. In fact, there are very few portraits of Johannes Kepler at all and we don’t know the source of most of them and several are clearly produced posthumously and we don’t know is they’re are based on an existing image or are just the artist’s imagination. 

There is one contemporary painting by the German artist Hans van Aachen (1552–1615), a leading representative of Norther Mannerism. It is described as the portrait of a young man thought to be Johannes Kepler but the attribution is not certain.

carview.php?tsp=
Hans van Aachen’s supposed portrait of Kepler

There is another portrait in the Galleria degli Uffizi in Florence, which is labelled Johannes Keplerus, but neither the artist nor when it was painted is known. It is, however, attributed to the seventeenth century. 

carview.php?tsp=
Johannes Kepler portrait by an unknown artist

There is a nineteenth century engraved portrait by the English watercolourist and architectural draughtsman Frederick Mackenzie (1787–1854), which is now in the Smithsonian Dibner Library of the History of Science and Technology. The caption says From a Picture in the Collection of Godefrey Kraemer Merchant of Ratisbon.  Ratisbon is an English alternative name for Regensburg the city in which Kepler died and was buried. 

carview.php?tsp=

The Dibner also has a copy of the Uffizi Kepler engraving, as well as an undated engraved portrait in profile.

carview.php?tsp=

Also in the Dibner is an engraving of a portrait of Johannes Kepler from a 1620 painting that was given to the Strasbourg Library in 1627, artist unknown. There is a painting from 1910 based on the engraving in the Kepler-Museum in Weil der Stadt, Kepler’s birth-place, by the German painter August Köhler (1881–1964).

carview.php?tsp=
carview.php?tsp=
1910 painting boy August Köhler based on the above engraving

Amongst all this doubt about the various portraits of Kepler the most surprising is the fact that a very impressive portrait in the possession of a Benedictine monastery in Kremsmünster, Austria, that was thought to be Kepler painted in 1610 is now thought to have been first painted in the nineteenth century and probably not Kepler at all. I myself have used it several time on Kepler posts in the past but no longer. 

carview.php?tsp=
Nineteenth century portrait supposedly of Johannes Kepler claiming to be a copy of a lost original from 1610. Now considered to be a forgery and not Kepler at all.

Addenda 31.12.2025

In the comments, Laura quite correctly drew my attention to the fact that I hadn’t included the wedding portraits of Barbara and Johannes Kepler. I couldn’t find any information on these portraits anywhere on the Internet so I asked Professor Aviva Rothman, Inaugural Dean’s Associate Professor and Director of Graduate Studies at Case Western Reserve University, who is a Kepler expert and currently writing a new biography of Kepler. She directed my attention to the paper The Fate of Kepler’s Handwritten Heritage by Irina Tunkina in Culture and Cosmos Vol. 25, Spring/Summer & Autumn/Winter 2021. Tunkina writes:

In 1876 the Pulkovo Observatory acquired the family treasures from the direct descendants of Kepler’s first wife, Barbara Müller von Mülek (the sisters Emma, Ottilie and Augusta Schnieber) for 400 marks. These were added to the collection.53 There was a pair of miniature oil portraitsof Johannes and Barbara Kepler from 1597, made during their lifetime

(Figures 1–2),

carview.php?tsp=

8 Comments

Filed under Kepler

Christmas Trilogy 2025 Part 2: Pictures of Charles

Yesterday, we took a look at some of the many portraits of Isaac Newton the second Lucasian professor of mathematics at Cambridge, today, we are turning our attention to a nineteenth century occupant of that honourable chair, Charles Babbage (1791–1871). 

Although Babbage came from a very wealthy family with a high social status there are no know childhood portraits. The earliest portraits seem to be from 1833, when he was already forty-two years old and Lucasian Professor. There is a stippled engraving made by the English engraver John Linnell (1792–1863). The son of a carver and guilder he had contact with several painters as a pupil before being admitted to the Royal Academy in 1805. He was only sixteen when left the Academy and went on to long and successful career as painter and engraver.

carview.php?tsp=
Self-portrait of John Linnell c. 1860
carview.php?tsp=
Linnell’s portrait of Babbage

There is a second stippled engraving of Babbage from 1833 as Lucasian Professor by Richard Roffe (fl. 1805–1827) about who very little is known.

carview.php?tsp=
Roffe’s portrait of Babbage

There is an early painted portrait of unknown date and by an unknow artist, now in the National Trust’s collection.

carview.php?tsp=
British (English) School; Charles Babbage (1792-1871) ; National Trust

There is a painted portrait in the National Portrait gallery from 1876 by Samuel Lawrence (1812–1884) a British portrait painter, who painted the cream of the mid Victorian society, ncluding the polymath William Whewell, a student friend of Babbage’s.

carview.php?tsp=
Samuel Lawrence attributed to Sir Anthony Coningham Sterling, salt print, late 1840s
carview.php?tsp=
Samuel Lawrence portrait of Babbage

There is lithographic portrait from 1841 now in the Wellcome Collection by D. Castellini after the pencil drawing Carlo Ernesto Liverati (1805–1844). I can find nothing on either Liverati or Castellini.

carview.php?tsp=
L0020480 Charles Babbage
Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images
Portrait bust of Charles Babbage with facsimile
Lithograph By: D. Castellini after: Liverati, C.E.Published: –

Babbage was a man of his times and a major technology fan so we naturally have quite a lot of photographic portraits. There is a daguerreotype from around 1850 made by the French photographer and artist Antoine François Jean Claudet (1797–1867).

carview.php?tsp=
Antoine Claudet in 1850
carview.php?tsp=
Claudet’s daguerreotype of Babbage

Claudet was active in the Victorian scientific community and was working with Charles Babbage on photographic experiments around the time this compelling portrait of him was made. In it, the pattern of embellished fabric on the side table is picked up in Babbage’s waistcoat. (National Portrait Gallery).

Claudet also took one of the only two surviving photographs of Ada Lovelace in c. 1843 or 1850

carview.php?tsp=
Claudet’s daguerreotype of Ada Lovelace

There is a seated photographic portrait of Babbage:

carview.php?tsp=

Half-length portrait of Babbage, seated, body turned to the left as viewed, Babbage looking to camera. The image is embossed “J M MACKIE PHOTO”. The reverse has two inscriptions. Top, in ink: “For my dear Aunt Fanny from her affectionate nephew B Herschel Babbage”. [Benjamin Herschel Babbage (1815-1878)]. Below “Copied from a negative taken for the Statistical Society about 1864. Charles Babbage was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1816. (Royal Society)

There is another undated seated photographic portrait of an elder Babbage with the caption,” Charles Babbage (1792-1871). English mathematician and mechanical genius.”

carview.php?tsp=

The Illustrated London News published an obituary portrait of Babbage

carview.php?tsp=

Obituary portrait of Charles Babbage (1791-1871). The caption is The late Mr Babbage. Illustration for The Illustrated London News, 4 November 1871. This portrait was derived from a photograph of Babbage taken at the Fourth International Statistical Congress which took place in London in July 1860. (Science Museum)

Most of the images shown here were used multiple times in writings about Babbage-.

Leave a comment

Filed under Charle Babbage, Uncategorized

Christmas Trilogy 2025 Part 1: Pictures of Isaac

Humans are strongly guided by their visual perception. Naturally the other senses—smell, hearing, taste, touch—play a role but seeing is predominant. This is reflected in everyday speech. When we want to draw somebody’s attention to something or emphasise a point we often say “Look!” or “Look here!” even when we are only going to say rather than show something. We use the word “see” to signal understanding, “I see” or “do you see”. 

Visual perception also played a strong role in the early evolution of science. People developed theories to try and explain what they could see. This was particularly true in astrology-astronomy where the only empirical evidence available was visual. It is significant that the period that most people believe is the nativity of modern science, the early seventeenth century, saw the invention of both the telescope and the microscope, the first instruments to extend the perception of one of the senses, namely vision, allowing researchers to see and examine things that were previously hidden from their sight. 

Visual presentation plays an increasing role in the presentation of the history of science with historians examining and interpreting visual representation from times past. One thing that interests people, and not just historians, is what did a given scientist look like. Unfortunately, in popular presentations the portraits or photographs used tend to be those of said scientist as a dignified senior citizen, maybe when receiving that Nobel Prize or the tenth honorary doctorate, rather than as a young researcher when they were actually doing the work for which they were honoured. The further back we go the real difficulty is knowing whether the visual representation is real, i.e. true to life, or some artists ideal of the person in question.

Over the next three days I going to be taking a look at the surviving portraits of the three scholars, who make up my Christmas Trilogy every year—Isaac  Newton, Charles Babbage, and Johannes Kepler.

Newton’s family were not by any means poor, when he inherited the family estates they provided him with an income of £600 p.a. at a time when the income of the Astronomer Royal was £100 p.a., but they were relatively simple puritan farmers so, there are no youthful portraits of Isaac, as a child. This, of course, all changed when he became the most famous natural philosopher and from the later part of his life we have quite a lot of portraits which documents his advancing age. 

There is however one engraved portrait from 1677 on which the caption reads “Sir Isaac Newton. when Bachelor of Arts in Trinity College, Cambridge. Engraved by B. Reading from a Head painted by Sir Peter Lily in the Possession of the Right Honorable Lord Viscount Cremorne.”  

carview.php?tsp=
Source: National Portrait Galery vis Wikimedia Commons

Sir Peter Lely was actually Pieter van der Faes, a Dutch portrait painter, who became a master of the Guild of St Luke, the city guild for painters, in Haarlem in 1637.

carview.php?tsp=
Peter Lely self-portrait c. 1660 Source: Wikimedia Commons

He moved to London in 1643 and succeeded Anthony van Dyck (1599–1641) as London’s most fashionable portrait painter going on to paint portraits of the rich, powerful, and famous including both Charles I and Oliver Cromwell, as well as Charles’ most famous mistress Nell Gwynne.

carview.php?tsp=
Peter Lely: long-time mistress of Charles II of England, Nell Gwynne as Venus, with her son, Charles Beauclerk, as Cupid.

Interestingly when Robert Hooke first came to London it was an apprentice to Lely but he then attended Westminster school instead. 

Probably the most well-known portraits of Newton are those painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller (1646–1723). Kneller like Lely, whom he succeeded as London’s most fashionable portrait painter, was like him not English.

carview.php?tsp=
Godfrey Kneller self-portrait 1685 Source: Wikimedia Commons

He was born Gottfried Kniller  in Lübeck the son of Zacharias Kniller a portrait painter. He first studied in Leiden but then became a pupil of Ferdinand Bol (1616–1680) a pupil of  Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606–1669) and of Rembrandt himself. Together with his brother Johann Zacharias Kniller (1642–1702) he spent the early 1670s painting in Rome and Venice before the two moved to London in 1676 and Godfrey inherited Lely’s crown as the in portrait painter. Kneller set up a portrait studio and specialised almost exclusively in painting portraits. His production rate was almost unbelievable and he achieved it by a streamlined work process. At sittings he only made sketches of the face of the sitter and then filled in the rest without reference to the sitter. We don’t know if his Newton portraits were done in this manner. 

carview.php?tsp=
Godfrey Kneller portrait of Isaac Newton 1689 Source: Wikimedia Commons
carview.php?tsp=
Godfrey Kneller portrait of Isaac Newton 1702 Source: Wikimedia Commons

There are a series of four formal portraits of Newton in his eighties as the President of the Royal Society. These were painted by John Vanderbank (1694–1739), this time an English born painter but the son of the Huguenot refugee from Paris, John Vanderbank Snr.  well-to-do proprietor of the Soho Tapestry Manufactory and Yeoman Arras-maker to the Great Wardrobe, supplying the royal family with tapestries from his premises in Great Queen Street, Covent Garden. 

carview.php?tsp=
John Vanderbank self-portrait drawing c. 1720 Source: Wikimedia Commons

John Vanderbank studied composition and painting first under his father and then the painter Jonathan Richardson (1667–1745) before becoming a pupil of Godfrey Kneller in 1711 at his art academy in Great Queen Street, Covent Garden next door to his father’s tapestry workshop. Like Kneller, Vanderbank became a renowned portrait painter.

carview.php?tsp=
Vanderbank, John; Isaac Newton ,1725 Fellow, Source: Trinity College, Cambridge;
carview.php?tsp=
Vanderbank, John; Isaac Newton 1726; Source: The Royal Society
carview.php?tsp=
Vanderbank, John; Isaac Newton 1727, Source: Trinity College, Cambridge;
carview.php?tsp=
Vanderbank, John; Isaac Newton not dated; Source: The Royal Society;

There is a single, oft reproduced, portrait of Newton by the Irish painter Charles Jervas (c. 1675–1739) who was another pupil of and assistant to Godfrey Kneller and succeeded Kneller as Principle Painter in Ordinary to George I in 1723. 

carview.php?tsp=
Self Portrait aged fifty, 1725 (oil on canvas) by Jervas, Charles (1675-1739)
oil on canvas
carview.php?tsp=
Newton portrait by Charles Jervas Source: Royal Society

John Smith (c. 1652–c. 1742), a very prolific English mezzotint engraver, was also a member of Godfrey Kneller’s circle and, as to be expected, he also produced an engraved portrait of Newton. 

carview.php?tsp=
John Smith the Engraver 1696 painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller 1646-1723 Source: Tate Gallery
carview.php?tsp=
John Smith’s engraved portrait of Newton

Also from the Godfrey Kneller’s circle was the English engraver George Vertue (1684–1756), who produced an engraving of a Vanderbank portrait. 

carview.php?tsp=
George Vertue, portrait by Jonathan Richardson (1733) Source: Wikimedia Commons
carview.php?tsp=
George Vertue’s portrait of Newton Source: Royal Society

There is a single portrait of Newton by Enoch Seeman the Younger (1689–1745), who was born in Gdańsk and was brought to London by his father Enoch Seeman the Elder, also a painter, in around 1704. He also painted in the style of Godfrey Kneller.

carview.php?tsp=
Self-portrait of Enoch Seeman Source: Wikimedia Commons
carview.php?tsp=
Enoch Seeman the Younger; Isaac Newton (1642-1727), Trinity College Cambridge

There is a portrait of Newton painted in 1712 by the English artist James Thornhill (1675/6–1734)

carview.php?tsp=
Self-portrait James Thornhill

Purchased for the Newton family home of Woolsthorpe Manor. It is a rare depiction of the great man without a wig.

carview.php?tsp=
Woolsthorpe Manor portrait of Newton by James Thornhill

There is a second Thornhill portrait, also without wig, in Trinity College Cambridge

carview.php?tsp=
James Thornhill; Isaac Newton Trinity College, University of Cambridge;

Trinity College Cambridge, Newton’s college has a full sized marble statue of Newton produced by the French sculptor Louis-François Roubillac (1702–1762), who moved to London in 1730. This was presented to the college by the mathematician and Master of Trinity Robert Smith (1690–1768) in 1755 and cost £3000, a vast sum in those days. 

carview.php?tsp=
Louis-François Roubillac marble statue of Isaac Newton, Trinity College Cambridge Source: Wikimedia Commons

Posthumously Newton rose to the status of a scientific god so, there are many engraved portrait from the later eighteenth and the nineteenth century often based on the Kneller portraits. Due to his fame and status, especially in later life, there are many portraits of Isaac Newton and I’m sure I’ve missed one or the other but the selection above should give you an impression of what England’s most  famous scientist looked like. 

2 Comments

Filed under Newton

The Sun stood still

Today at 15:03 UT (that’s GMT for all those still living in the past) the Sun on its apparent journey to the south will briefly stand still above the Tropic of Capricorn before turning and beginning its climb northwards up to the Tropic of Cancer. The brief still stand gives the moment its name Solstice from the Latin Solstitium, point at which the sun seems to stand still. A composite noun set together from sol the sun and past participle stem of sistere, stand still, take a stand; to set, place, cause to stand. Tropic comes from Latin tropicus pertaining to a turn, from Greek tropikos of or pertaining to a turn or change. This moment marks the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere and the summer solstice in the southern hemisphere.

carview.php?tsp=
Obligatory Stonehenge winter solstice sunset image

As I note at this time every year, rejecting the purely arbitrary convention of midnight on 31 December marking the beginning of the New Year, here at the Renaissance Mathematicus my New Year is the winer solstice, the point in the astronomical calendar in the depth of winter, when the light begins to return.

I wish all of my readers a happy solstice and may you enjoy whatever seasonal events you participate in. I personally don’t celebrate any of them. I thank all of you for your engagement, for reading my verbal outpourings, for your comments and your criticisms and hope you will continue to do so in the year to come. 

There will be no normal blog post on Wednesday, because on Thursday we start with another established tradition, the Renaissance Mathematicus Christmas Trilogy. For any new readers, who have found their way here in the last twelve months, they can find out what this is here and at the same time catch up on sixrteen years of previous trilogies! 

7 Comments

Filed under Autobiographical

A Christmas gift from the Gnomes of Ball Mansions.

Philip Ball is one of the best English science writers and with certainty one of the most if not the most prolific. He churns out books and article, with radio programs thrown in along the way, at a rate that is absolutely mindboggling. We here at the Renaissance Mathematicus exposed the secret of his production rate several years ago. Like Santa, who had gnomes in his workshops at the North Pole producing all those toys, Ball has a team of gnomes chained to writing desks in the cellars of Ball mansion busily scribbling away at his next publications.

A couple of years back the gnomes embarked on the production of a series of history of science coffee table books, richly illustrated volumes explaining the history of science for the non-expert. If you are looking for a last minute Christmas present, perhaps for a teenager fascinated by science, or just somebody who would like to delve into the history of science, without doing battle with an academic text, then these volumes are highly recommended.

The first volume to make its way out the gnomes production centre was The ElementsA Visual History of Their Discovery (Thames & Hudson, 2021) a beautifully illustrated book that takes the reader from the story of the four classical elements of Ancient Greece down to the artificially created atomic elements of the twentieth century.

carview.php?tsp=

Telling the story of the discovery of each element or group of elements along the way. Unfortunately, I feel obliged to point out that this, otherwise wonderful book, has a flaw. It seems that somewhere during the editing phase, the story of the discovery of mercury slipped through a gap and failed to make it into the published work. However, despite this highly regrettable lapsus the book is a delight to read and highly informative. 

In 2023, the gnomes turned their attention to the world of experimental science and delivered up Beautiful ExperimentsAn Illustrated History of Experimental Science (University of Chicago Press). This one truly delivers what the title promises.

carview.php?tsp=

The book has alternating chapters and interludes. The chapter looks at a set of historical experiments united by a common theme. For example, the theme of the first chapter is How Does the World Work and starts with Eratosthenes measuring the size of the world, followed by Foucault demonstrating diurnal rotation. Moving into modern physics we have Michelson and Morley attempting to detect the ether followed by Arthur Edington proving relativity. The first interlude asks the metaphysical questions, what is an experiment? and what makes a good experiment? We return to the world and the violation of parity, closing with the discovery of gravitational waves. 

This pattern is repeated in What Makes Things Happen?, with the interlude The Impact of New Techniques.  The third chapter asks What is The World Made From?, and its interlude questions the books title, What is a Beautiful Experiment? Chapter four is a theme from the history of science that is of particular interest to me, What is Light? and its interlude looks at The Art of Scientific Instrumentation. Moving on in chapter five we have the pregnant question, What is Life?, and an interlude about Thought Experiments. The book stays with the life sciences for the final chapter, How Do Organisms Behave, this time there is no interlude.

This book takes on a massive topic about which one could write a multi-volume encyclopaedia and masters it magnificently with a fine examples of classical experiments clearly explained and some intriguing metaphysical speculations about the nature of experimentation clearly expressed for the non-philosopher.

In 2025, the gnomes struck again with a truly magnificent volume, AlchemyAn Illustrated History of Elixirs, Experiments, and the Birth of Modern Science (Yale University Press).

carview.php?tsp=

All three books are beautifully illustrated but the alchemy volume takes the quality of the illustrations to a whole new level, which is due to the nature of the topic and the available pictures. On a general note, this is an excellent introduction to the history of alchemy. Despite the excellent work done by historians over the last half century explaining the rich and influential history of alchemy, there are still large numbers of people, who think that alchemy is just a bunch of crazies trying to turn lead into gold. This volume tells the real complex story of the discipline in non-academic terms for the lay reader. 

 There are chapters on the origins of alchemy in different period and cultures. Other chapters look at specific aspects of the topic such as chrysopoeia (the quest for gold) the uses of alchemy, the alchemical laboratory and others. In between are informative potted biographies of the leading figures in the history of alchemy. Towards the end the book handles the historically important transition from alchemy to chemistry, a topic that for far too long was swept under the carpet with the claim that the two had nothing to do with each other.

All three books have good indexes and a short but good list of suggestions for further reading. They are all excellently produced and are both pleasant to look at and to read. For the quality, all three are very reasonably priced and won’t require you to take out a second mortgage. Philip Ball is to be congratulated for having trained his gnomes to produce such desirable books. 

Leave a comment

Filed under Book Reviews, History of Alchemy, History of Chemistry, History of science

He inherited Richard Hakluyt’s life’s work.

As I have pointed out is a couple of earlier posts the work carried out by mathematical practitioners in England in the last third of the sixteenth century and on into the seventeenth into navigation was an integral part of the deep sea voyages that mariners were beginning to undertake in what is usually referred to as the age of discovery or as I prefer to call it the age of exploitation. To quote myself:

Finding new lands, until then comparatively unknown to Europeans, was only a secondary aim of these voyages, their primary aim was commerce. The expeditions were searching for commodities with which they could make a fortune for themselves and their investors. Metal ores–gold, silver, copper–fine materials such as silk, and above all spices. The expeditions of Vasco da Gama (c. 1460s–1524), Christopher Colombus (1541–1506), and Magellan (1480–1521) were all about breaking the Arabic hold on the overland spice trade between Asia and Europe. The later multiple searches for a North-East or North-West passage were about finding a shorter, more direct trade route between Europe and Asia. 

England, which came late to the table also wanted a slice of the cake and the mathematical practitioners were expected to make the mariners endeavours as simple and safe as possible. The navigators and instrument makers were not endeavouring alone but were part of a wider social movement to help England catch up with the much earlier started Spanish and Portuguese mariners and their equally new but intensely active rivals the Dutch. This movement included books on the new theories being expounded such as the deeply technical Certaine Errors in Navigation (1599) by Edward Wright (1561–1615) or the earlier more wide ranging The Cosmographical Glasse (1559) by William Cuningham (1531–c.1586). There were attempts to set up public lectures on the new mathematics to help educate the mariners such as those of Thomas Hood (1556–1620), appointed as the Mathematicall Lecturer to the Citie of London in 1588. This was followed by the wider ranging Gresham College set up by a bequest from the merchant Thomas Gresham (c. 1519–1579) in his will, which came into existence in 1597 with Henry Briggs (1561–1630), a close friend and collaborator of Edward Wright’s, as the first Gresham Professor for Geometry. 

Important on the political level were those who proposed and supported the setting up of a British Empire to rival those of Spain and Portugal. The earliest was John Dee (1527–c. 1608), in his 1570 manuscript Brytannicae reipublicae synopsis, pushing the idea of English colonies particularly in North America in his General and Rare Memorials pertayning to the Perfect Arte of Navigation (1576). He was often derided for his intense interest in the occult. However, he was actually a leading and highly influential mathematical practitioner and navigational advisor to several of the early attempts to find both the North-East Passage and the North-West passage. As a promotor of empire, more influential that Dee was the geographer Richard Hakluyt (1552?–1616) with his Divers Voyages Touching the Discoverie of America and the Ilands Adjacent unto the Same, Made First of all by our Englishmen and Afterwards by the Frenchmen and Britons With Two Mappes Annexed Hereunto published in London by Thomas Woodcocke in 1562. This was followed by his never published manuscript A Particuler Discourse Concerninge the Greate Necessitie and Manifolde Commodyties That Are Like to Growe to This Realme of Englande by the Westerne Discoueries Lately Attempted, Written in the Yere 1584, which was dedicated to Queen Elizabeth. Hakluyt continued to collect accounts of voyages of discovery, oft interviewing the mariners personally, and in 1589 he published in London the first edition of his monumental The principall navigations, voiages, and discoveries of the English nations : made by sea or over land to the most remote and farthest distant quarters of the earth at any time within the compasse of these 1500 years : divided into three several parts according to the positions of the regions whereunto they were directed; the first containing the personall travels of the English unto Indæa, Syria, Arabia … the second, comprehending the worthy discoveries of the English towards the north and northeast by sea, as of Lapland … the third and last, including the English valiant attempts in searching almost all the corners of the vaste and new world of America … whereunto is added the last most renowned English navigation round about the whole globe of the earth. This was followed by two further volumes were published in 1599 and 1600, all three volumes running to over 1,760,000 words in three folio volumes and about two thousand pages. The whole edifice is now regarded as one of the great works of English literature.

Hakluyt continued to collect accounts of voyages from 1600 until his death in 1616 but never produced a fourth volume of his masterpiece containing these new narratives, this task was taken up by the Anglican cleric Samuel Purchas (bap. 1577–1726). 

carview.php?tsp=
by Henry Richard Cook stipple engraving, 1820 Source: National Portrait Gallery

Samuel Purchas was the sixth son of George Purchas a cloth trader in the village of Thaxted in North-West Essex and was baptised in 1577. He attended St John’s College Cambridge, which is just thirty miles from his birth place, graduating BA in 1597 and MA in 1600. He was ordained a Deacon in 1598 and a Priest in 1601. In 1604, James I & VI  presented him to the vicarage of St. Laurence and All Saints, in Eastwood in South-East Essex.

carview.php?tsp=
 St. Laurence and All Saints Chuch Eastwood

Eastwood is two miles from Leigh on Sea. Both Eastwood and Leigh are today parts of the city of Southend-on-Sea but in the early seventeenth century Leigh was a thriving port on the Thames estuary and was a meeting place for mariners. Here he began collecting accounts of voyages, travels and discovery. 

In 1613 , Purchas published his first book, Purchas His Pilgrimage: or Relations of the World and the Religions observed in all Ages and Places discovered, from the Creation unto this Present. A folio volume with nine hundred pages, it aimed to catalogue the world’s religions and geographies from biblical creation to contemporary discoveries, reflecting Purchas’s clerical perspective on divine providence amid human exploration.

carview.php?tsp=
First Edition 1613

It was instantly popular and there were expanded second and third editions in 1614 and 1617.

carview.php?tsp=
Second Edition 1614

A fourth edition was published inn 1626 containing additional maps, treatises and expansions, which exceeded nineteen hundred pages. 

carview.php?tsp=
Fourth Edition 1626
carview.php?tsp=
carview.php?tsp=
Taken from the fourth edition the earliest known map of China based on Chinese sources Purchas records that he originally based his map on a Chinese one, captured by Captain Saris, an English merchant in the port of Bantam (in modern Indonesia). Interesting to note the portrait of Matteo Ricci on the left hand side
carview.php?tsp=
carview.php?tsp=
carview.php?tsp=
carview.php?tsp=

In 1614, he was appointed chaplain to Archbishop George Abbot (1562-1633), the Archbishop of Canterbury, and rector of St. Martin, Ludgate in the City of London. Meanwhile he had made the acquaintance of Richard Hukluyt.

Around 1610, Purchas scraped an acquaintance with an aging and ailing Hakluyt, who at the time was collecting narratives for a further edition of the Principal Navigations. The contacts and interactions between Hakluyt and Purchas are unclear, but Purchas talks in his introduction to the Pilgrimes [his third book, 1625] about being promised the legacy of Hakluyt’s unpublished papers upon the latter’s death. The apparent agreement was never put into writing and Purchas ended up having to purchase Hakluyt’s literary remains for an unspecified yet substantial sum in 1617.[1]

In 1619, Purchas published His second book, Purchas his Pilgrim or Microcosmus, or the Historie of Man. Relating the Wonders of his Generation, Vanities in his Degeneration, Necessities of his Regenerations, a meditation on the history of humanity, framed, like his first book,  from a biblical perspective. 

carview.php?tsp=

In 1625, Purchas published his most ambitious book the monumental Hakluytus Posthumus, or Purchas his PilgrimesContayning a History of the World, in Sea Voyages, & Land Travels, by Englishmen and Others.

carview.php?tsp=
In Purchas his Pilgrimes, he tells us that he has never been “200 miles from Thaxted in Essex where I was borne.” 
carview.php?tsp=

A four volume compendium of travel narratives, most of them concerning the journeys of English travellers in the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods. This is, as the title tells us, the utilisation of the unpublished papers he purchased following Hakluyt’s death:

  • Volume I explores ancient kings, beginning with Solomon, and records stories of circumnavigation around the African coast to the East Indies, China, and Japan.
  • Volume II is dedicated to Africa, Palestine, Persia, and Arabia.
  • Volume III provides history of the North-East and North-West passages and summaries of travels to Tartary, Russia, and China.
  • Volume IV deals with America and the West Indies.

The fourth edition of the Pilgrimage (published in 1626) is usually catalogued as the fifth volume of the Pilgrimes, but the two works are essentially distinct. Purchas himself said of the two volumes:

These brethren, holding much resemblance in name, nature and feature, yet differ in both the object and the subject. This [i.e. the Pilgrimage] being mine own in matter, though borrowed, and in form of words and method; whereas my Pilgrimes are the authors themselves. acting their own parts in their own words, only furnished by me with such necessities as that stage further required, and ordered according to my rules. (Wikipedia)

Purchas has been criticised for his sloppy and at time biased editing but many of the narratives that he and Hakluyt collected are the only accounts we have of important aspects of exploration during this period. 

The emphasis in Purchas’ work on the religious and moral aspects of his narrative, contrasts strongly with Hakluyt’s goal of inspiring and interesting the nation in pursuing the project of exploration.

Purchas continued to be read down into the nineteenth century as one interesting anecdote from the history of English literature testifies. Kubla Kahn is one the romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s most well know and loved poems, with its much quoted first stanza:

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round;

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

Coleridge, himself tells to story of how he came to write the poem. Whilst reading he fell asleep under the influence of opium and dreamt to whole poem. Upon waking he immediately began to write it down but after a while he was disturbed by a visitor and had to take a break. Afterwards he could no longer remember the rest of the poem from his dream and so Kubla Kahn remained unfinished. The book he was reading when he fell asleep was Purchas His Pilgrimage

The original passage from Purchas that inspired the drugged out poet was:

In Xamdu did Cubla Can build a stately Palace, encompassing sixteene miles of plaine ground with a wall, wherein are fertile Meddowes, pleasant Springs, delightful Streames, and all sorts of beasts of chase and game, and in the middest thereof a sumptuous house of pleasure.[2]

In his own account Coleridge names, the title of the false book by Purchas:  

In the summer of the year 1797, the Author, then in ill health, had retired to a lonely farm-house between Porlock and Linton, on the Exmoor confines of Somerset and Devonshire. In consequence of a slight indisposition, an anodyne had been prescribed, from the effects of which he fell asleep in his chair at the moment that he was reading the following sentence, or words of the same substance, in ‘Purchas’s Pilgrimage’: ‘Here the Khan Kubla commanded a palace to be built, and a stately garden thereunto. And thus ten miles of fertile ground were inclosed with a wall.’

Some might find Coleridge’s reading matter strange for a poet but he was also a philosopher and deeply interested in the sciences. He was instrumental in introducing the continental Naturephilosophie of Friedrich Schelling (1775–1854) into England and was a passionate student of chemistry, optics, medicine and animal magnetism. It was also Coleridge (1772–1834) at the 1833 meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science who strongly objected to men of science using the term philosopher to describe themselves leading to Whilliam Whewell (1784–1866) coining the term scientist in imitation of the term artist.


[1] J. P. Helfers, The Explorer of the Pilgrim? Modern Critical Opinion and the Editorial Methods of Richard Hakluyt and Samuel Purchas, Studies in Philology, Vol. 94. No. 2 (Spring, 1997) pp160–186, p. 164

[2]  Purchas his Pilgrimage: Lond. fol. 1626, Bk. IV, chap. xiii, p. 418.

1 Comment

Filed under Book History, History of Cartography, History of Navigation

From τὰ φυσικά (ta physika) to physics – LVI

In a previous post in this series I looked at the life of Christiaan Huygens (1629–1695) in general and his contribution to the development of optics in particular. In that post I emphasised that Huygens was a multi talent who built some of the best telescopes in the seventeenth century, he was an astronomer, who made important discoveries, and influential as a mathematician, and a physicist. Today I’m going to look at his contributions to hydrostatics and in particular his important contributions to mechanics.

carview.php?tsp=

Isaac Newton (1642–1728) is notorious for not having published the majority of his work. If we take mathematics for example, there were only two works published in his lifetime. The Arithmitica Universalis, basically a textbook, was edited and published by William Whiston (1667–1752), his successor as Lucasian professor, against Newton’s will and without his name. De analysi per aequationes numero terminorum infinitas (or On analysis by infinite seriesOn Analysis by Equations with an infinite number of terms,  or On the Analysis by means of equations of an infinite number of terms) was written in 1669 and the manuscript was circulated amongst scholars in both England and abroad at the time at the time but was first published in 1711.  However, The Mathematical Papers of Isaac Newton edited by D. T. Whiteside (1932–2008) run to eight, thick, large format volumes. 

Whilst not as extreme as Newton, and not so prolific, Huygens seem to have shared this trait of not publishing scientific texts that he had spent years composing. We saw how, in in optics, he spent years researching a general text on his work only to abandon it and start a new more comprehension paper, of which after many years he only published the first of three parts. He also abandoned another work on both spherical and chromatic aberration. This pattern of behaviour repeated itself with his work on hydrostatics. 

In his De iis quae liquido supernatant composed by 1650 but never published, Huygens, like others who worked on hydrostatics, starting with Archimedes, devotes much attention to the mathematical determination of centres of gravity and cubatures, as, for example, those of obliquely truncated paraboloids of revolution and of cones and cylinders. His hydrostatics has a single axiom, that a mechanical system is in equilibrium if its centre of gravity is in the lowest possible position with respect to its restraints. he derived the law of Archimedes from the basic axiom and proved that a floating body is in a position of equilibrium when the distance between the centre of gravity of the whole body and the centre of gravity of its submerged part is at a minimum. The stable position of a floating segment of a sphere is thereby determined, as are the conditions which the dimensions of right truncated paraboloids and cones must satisfy in order that these bodies may float in a vertical position.[1]

carview.php?tsp=
Illustration from De iis quae liquido supernatant as published in Huygens’ complete works

We saw in an earlier post that Descartes developed the laws of impact bodies. These were in fact wrong, and there is a certain irony that it was Huygens, a convinced Cartesian, showed that they were wrong and provided the correct laws of the collision of elastic bodies in his De motu corporum ex percussione in studies caried out between 1652 and 1656. Descartes work on the laws of collision had assumed an absolute measurability of velocity. Huygens rejected this and thought that the forces acting between colliding bodies depend only on their relative velocity. He incorporated this as hypothesis III in De motu corporum which asserts that all motion is measured against a framework that is only assumed to be at rest, so that the results of speculations about motion should not depend on whether this frame is at rest in any absolute sense. In 1661, Huygens conducted experiments on collision together with Christopher Wren (1632–1723). In 1668, The Royal Society launched an investigation into the topic and Huygens, Wren, and John Wallis (1616–1703) all submitted similar and correct solutions. Central to their solution was the conservation of momentum. Both Wren and Huygen’s papers confined their theory to perfectly elastic bodies (elastic collision), whereas Wallis also considered imperfectly elastic bodies (inelastic collision). Huygens published his De motu corporum in the Journal des Sçavans (Europe’s earliest academic journal established in 1665) in 1669. 

carview.php?tsp=
De motu corporum ex percussione  from his complete works

Huygens is, of course, well known as the man who produced the first functioning pendulum clock in 1657. His most important discovery was that, contrary to Galileo, a simple pendulum is not exactly tautochronous. 

He tackled this problem by finding the curve down which a mass will slide under the influence of gravity in the same amount of time, regardless of its starting point; the so-called tautochrone problem. By geometrical methods which anticipated the calculus,  Huygens showed it to be a cycloid rather than the circular arc of a pendulum’s bob, and therefore that pendulums needed to move on a cycloid path in order to be isochronous. (Wikipedia)

He solution to this problem was that the cheeks must also have the form of a cycloid, on a scale determined by the length of the pendulum.

carview.php?tsp=
Huygens’pendulum clock from Horologium Oscillatorium Source: Wikimedia Commons

Sixteen years after the invention of the pendulum clock, Huygens published a major work on horology, which was also his most important contribution to mechanics: Horologium Oscillatorium: Sive de Motu Pendulorum ad Horologia Aptato Demonstrationes Geometricae (The Pendulum Clock: or Geometrical Demonstrations Concerning the Motion of Pendula as Applied to Clocks). Although as contribution to the history of horology Huygens’ master piece is important, it is the studies of pendula leading to studies of gravity and the laws of fall that interest us here. 

carview.php?tsp=
Sorce: Wikipedia Commons

The book is in five parts of which the first is purely a description of the design of his pendulum clock. The second part starts with three laws of motion, something that would be echoed by Newton in his Principia:

  1. If there is no gravity, and the air offers no resistance to the motion of bodies, then any one of these bodies admits of a single motion to be continued with an equal velocity along a straight line.
  2. Now truly this motion becomes, under the action of gravity and for whatever the direction of the uniform motion, a motion composed from that constant motion that a body now has or had previously, together with the motion due gravity downwards.
  3. Also, either of these motions can be considered separately, neither one to be impeded by the other.

From these Huygens derives geometrically anew Galileo’s study of falling bodies including linear fall along an inclined plane and fall along a curved path. This leads to the fact that the cycloid is the solution to the tautochrone problem. The third part continues his study of the cycloid. Part four is a detailed study of the theory of the centre of oscillation.  Part five contains a study of circular motion of a pendulum, It ends with It ends with thirteen propositions regarding bodies in uniform circular motion, without proofs, and states the laws of centrifugal force for uniform circular motion. These propositions were studied closely at the time, although their proofs were only published posthumously in the De Vi Centrifuga (1703).

The book was widely read and was highly influential. Newton acquired a copy, which he studied carefully. It’s influence can be inferred all over the first book of his Principia.

Newton’s first two laws of motion, the axioms on which his whole edifice is constructed, as presented in his Principia, are somewhat different to the modern versions presented in physics textbooks:

Law I  Every body perseveres in its state of being at rest or of moving uniformly straight forward except in so far as it is compelled to change its state by forces impressed.

Law 2  A change in motion is proportional to the motive force impressed and takes place along the straight line in which that force is impressed.[2]

Cohen asks why Newton even need the first law, the principle of inertia, because it is already implied in the Definitions 3 & 4.[3]

Definition 3  Inherent force of matter is the power of resisting by which every body so far as it is able, perseveres  in its state either of resting or of moving uniformly straight forward.[4]

Definition 4  Impressed force in the action exerted on a body to change its state either of resting or of moving uniformly straight forward.[5]

Cohen states: 

No doubt another factor in Newton’s decision to have a separate law 1 and law 2 was the model he found in Huygens’s Horologium Ocillatorium of 1673, a work he knew well.[6]

Cohen goes on the explain how the two laws of the two authors actually differ.

All in all, Huygens with  his correction of Descartes law of collision and is work on motion and force in his Horologium Ocillatorium had a significant impact on the future development of mechanics. 


[1] H. J. M. Bos, Christiaan Huygens, Complete Dictionary of Scientific Biography

[2] Issac Newton The Principia Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy, A New Translation by I. Bernard Cohen and Anne Wilson assisted by Julia Budenz, Preceded by A Guide to Newton’s Principia by I. Bernard Cohen p. 16

[3] Cohen Principia p. 110

[4] Cohen Principia p. 404

[5] Cohen Principia p. 405

[6] Cohen Principia, p. 110

4 Comments

Filed under History of Physics, History of science