Most studies of René Descartes’s legacy have focused on the novelty of his ideas, but little has been done to uncover the conditions that allowed these ideas to spread. Seventeenth-century Europe was already a small world—it presented a high degree of connectedness with a few brokers bridging otherwise disparate regions. A communication network known as the Republic of Letters enabled scholars to trade ideas—including Descartes’s—by means of correspondence. This article offers an analysis—both qualitative and quantitative—of a corpus of letters written (...) during Descartes’s lifetime and mentioning his name. The aim is to unveil the factors that drove the diffusion of Descartes’s ideas. The results are twofold. First, a close reading of the letters reveals that they were not used to create awareness about Descartes and his works but rather to discuss his ideas. Second, a network analysis of the letters shows that ideas do not spread like viruses, thus undermining the ‘social contagion’ model, and that weak ties are not as effective in promoting innovations as they are in circulating information. (shrink)

This paper gives a detailed analysis of four seed lists in the journals of John Locke. These lists provide a window into a fascinating open network of botanical exchange in the early 1680s which included two of the leading botanists of the day. Pierre Magnol of Montpellier and Jacob Bobart the Younger of Oxford. The provenance and significance of the lists are assessed in relation to the relevant extant herbaria and plant catalogues from the period. The lists and associated correspondence (...) provide the main evidence for Locke's own important, through modest contribution to early modern botany, a contribution which he would have regarded as a small part of the broader project of constructing a natural history of plants. They also provide a detailed case study of the sort of open and informal network of knowledge exchange in the early modern period that is widely recognised by historians of science, but all too rarely illustrated. (shrink)

In 1669, Malpighi published the first systematic dissection of an insect. The manuscript of this work contains a striking water-colour of the silkworm, which is described here for the first time. On repeating Malpighi's pioneering investigation, Swammerdam found what he thought were a number of errors, but was hampered by Malpighi's failure to explain his techniques. This may explain Swammerdam's subsequent description of his methods. In 1675, as he was about to abandon his scientific researches for a life of religious (...) contemplation, Swammerdam destroyed his manuscript on the silkworm, but not before sending the drawings to Malpighi. These figures, with their rich and unique use of colour, are studied here for the first time. The role played by Henry Oldenburg, secretary of the Royal Society, in encouraging contact between the two men is emphasized and the way this exchange reveals the development of some key features of modern science -- replication and modern scientific illustration -- is discussed. (shrink)

Using data on the ‘career’ paths of one thousand ‘leading scientists’ from 1450 to 1900, what is conventionally called the ‘rise of modern science’ is mapped as a changing geography of scientific practice in urban networks. Four distinctive networks of scientific practice are identified. A primate network centred on Padua and central and northern Italy in the sixteenth century expands across the Alps to become a polycentric network in the seventeenth century, which in turn dissipates into a weak polycentric network (...) in the eighteenth century. The nineteenth century marks a huge change of scale as a primate network centred on Berlin and dominated by German-speaking universities. These geographies are interpreted as core-producing processes in Wallerstein’s modern world-system; the rise of modern scientific practice is central to the development of structures of knowledge that relate to, but do not mirror, material changes in the system. (shrink)

From 8 February until at least 19 April 1686, the Dublin Philosophical Society was occupied with a prodigiously talented young girl whose name was never recorded. She was less than eleven years of age, but still much older than the society itself, which had begun meeting less than three years previously. Although one of many wonders engaging the curiosity of the nascent society, this girl served a surprising range of purposes, so that accompanying her anonymity was a curious malleability. Pressed (...) into several different roles and identities, her exploitation affords a glimpse into the various qualities that could make a spectacle useful in a philosophical climate that was unique among the British Isles. The use of this girl therefore not only sheds light on the needs of a less familiar learned society, but also shows how these could differ from those of its better-understood counterparts. For a period of time, it was the versatility not of the gentlemen in Dublin, but of the prodigy they used, that best served this group on the periphery. (shrink)

This article considers the role of overseas academic travel in the development of the modern research university, with particular reference to the University of Cambridge from the 1880s to the 1950s. The Cambridge academic community, relatively sedentary at the beginning of this period, became progressively more mobile and globalized through the early twentieth century, facilitated by regular research sabbaticals. The culture of research travel diffused at varying rates, and with differing consequences, across the arts and humanities and the field, laboratory (...) and theoretical sciences, reshaping disciplinary identities and practices in the process. The nature of research travel also changed as the genteel scholarly excursion was replaced by the purposeful, output-orientated expedition. (shrink)