The ArugmentThis essay answers a single question: what was Robert Hooke, the Royal Society's curator of experiments, doing in his well-known 1665 work,Micrographia?Hooke was articulating a “universal cure of the mind” capable of bringing about a “reformation in Philosophy,” a change in philosophy's interpretive practices and organization. The work explicated the interpretive and political foundations for a community of optical instrument users coextensive with the struggling Royal Society. Standard observational practices would overcome the problem of using nonstandard instruments, while inherent (...) inrepresentation– the interpretive practice championed in the text – were important theological and political meanings. Hooke's kind of experimental philosophy undermined the claims made by “atheists” and “enthusiasts” – the enemies of the restored church and state – while also producing useful knowledge. Equally important, Hooke modeled the community described inMicrographiaupon the classicalres publica, but his community made important concessions to Restoration political realities, especially the growing role of commercial or transactional relationships. (shrink)

Although best known as a scientific instrument maker, John Rowley extended his sphere of activity very considerably as Master of Mechanics to George I and as a hydraulic engineer at the Offices of Ordnance and Works. Re-examined and untapped sources provide fresh evidence of these aspects of his work and highlight his predilection for the arts and the virtuosity of his artefacts. The findings also have implications for studies of the instrument-making trade in the early eighteenth century.

Records of certain Government Departments known to have purchased scientific instruments from designated suppliers over long periods are potentially important sources of information on both instruments and their makers. The Office of Ordnance was one such Department. Investigation of its financial and administrative records has shown that the appointment ‘Mathematical Instrument Maker to his Majesty's Office of Ordnance’ brought the holder a substantial trade in instruments for drawing, surveying, and military purposes. Detailed entries in the Bill Books enable not only (...) types, quantities, and prices of instruments supplied to be determined, but also the purposes for which they were required. In many cases the actual users of the instruments are named, with their locations in Great Britain and overseas.The records of the Office of Ordnance are extensive, covering the mid-seventeenth to the mid-nineteenth century in over ten thousand volumes or bundles. This paper provides an introduction to what is available, and examines in particular the period 1748–1772 when George Adams senior was Mathematical Instrument Maker to this Office. It is shown that during this period Adams supplied over 1500 instruments, ranging from drawing pens to theodolites, detailed in 148 bills amounting to a total value of £2425. Some other well-known instrument makers, such as Thomas Wright, Benjamin Cole & Son, and Jesse Ramsden, were also occasional suppliers of instruments in the same period, while from 1765 onwards the records include bills for instruments purchased by the Office of Ordnance for the Royal Observatory from makers such as Dollond and Bird. The total number of instrument makers' bills located and examined in the period searched, including the 148 by Adams, was 166. In addition, though not within the scope of this paper it was observed that the records contain numerous bills by William Deane before, and by Jeremiah Sisson after, the period of Adams' appointment respectively. (shrink)

The emergence of instrument-making trades in early-modern England tested the power of established guilds. From the seventeenth century, instrument makers were able to exploit growing markets for scientific apparatus and attempted to exploit connections with the Royal Society. Given the growth in both local and international demand, and in new methods of manufacture, instrument makers were frequently able to evade the diminishing power of guilds to police the efforts of the makers.

The paper examines the structure of the mathematical instrument making trade in London from the mid-sixteenth century to the opening of the Hanoverian era. This analysis of the trade is primarily based on evidence drawn from contemporary advertising. A distinction between informal editorial recommendations and advertising per se is made. It is concluded that up to the mid-seventeenth century mathematical instrument makers worked in either wood or metal. After that date a growing number of workshops advertised that they manufactured in (...) all media. Advertising was aimed at informing professional users from whom particular instruments could be purchased, but not on informing customers in specific terms of the range of instruments manufactured. It is concluded that until the early eighteenth century most mathematical instruments were commissioned. Only towards the end of the period is there evidence of over-the-counter sales, and advertising aimed at encouraging the growing consumer market to buy mathematical instruments for the practice of science as a social or recreational activity. (shrink)

Mathematical practitioners in seventeenth-century London formed a cohesive knowledge community that intersected closely with instrument-makers, printers and booksellers. Many wrote books for an increasingly numerate metropolitan market on topics covering a wide range of mathematical disciplines, ranging from algebra to arithmetic, from merchants’ accounts to the art of surveying. They were also teachers of mathematics like John Kersey or Euclid Speidell who would use their own rooms or the premises of instrument-makers for instruction. There was a high degree of interdependency (...) even beyond their immediate milieu. Authors would cite not only each other, but also practitioners of other professions, especially those artisans with whom they collaborated closely. Practical mathematical books effectively served as an advertising medium for the increasingly self-conscious members of a new emerging professional class. Contemporaries would talk explicitly of ‘the London mathematicians’ in distinction to their academic counterparts at Oxford or Cambridge. The article takes a closer look at this metropolitan knowledge culture during the second half of the century, considering its locations, its meeting places and the mathematical clubs which helped forge the identity of its practitioners. It discusses their backgrounds, teaching practices and relations to the London book trade, which supplied inexpensive practical mathematical books to a seemingly insatiable public. (shrink)