The early years of the nineteenth century were a time of new life and fresh thought in the scientific institutions of England and France. Despite the domination of the public scene by the rise and fall of Napoleon, scientists in the two countries were able to share their discoveries and work together. Napoleon even encouraged this; for example, foreigners were not barred from competing for the scientific prizes he offered. At a time when many of his compatriots were detained in France, Sir Humphry Davy was given special permission to travel freely because the object of his journey was scientific. His travels in France gave Davy the opportunity of meeting many of his most eminent contemporaries. The best scientific work in Europe was being done in Paris at the Collège de France and at the Ecole Polytechnique. H. R. Yorke, an English journalist in Paris in 1814, in spite of his prejudice against the Institut National affirms that ‘it is but a tribute of justice which every man owes to superiour genius to declare that in point of real science or experimental philosophy France is Without a Rival’.

References to the stars permeate the writings of Paracelsus (1493–1541); yet modern authorities comment on the way he restricted astrological influence. The contradiction is only apparent, and disappears when the significance he attached to the relevant vocabulary is understood. He had in mind a kind of influence rather different from that usually thought of in connection with astrology, and the astrological jargon he bandied about had a metaphorical more often than a literal meaning. In his major works, signs of detailed interest in the movements of the actual stars are few; the ‘astrological’ terminology hides a system of natural explanation by virtues or forces largely immanent in earthly objects.

The paper covers a period of little more than two years in the early history of the Royal Institution, but it is the period in which the house in Albemarle Street was purchased and Count Rumford devoted all his energies to establishing in it the Institution he had conceived. The house was enlarged and adapted to its new purpose; at first a temporary and later the well-known lecture theatre were built. The first Resident Professor and lecturer in the new theatre was Thomas Garnett, whose brief and unhappy connection with the Royal Institution is recorded.

There is a wealth of source material to be digested by the historian. From about 1800 onwards books and specialized scientific journals have appeared in ever-increasing numbers, and he may feel overwhelmed by the printed sources. But printed material can supply only a part of the information he needs. The printed word of a scientist rarely shows how he arrived at his concepts, why they took the turn they did and what influences contributed to their formation and development. For these the historian must turn to private papers, to correspondence, to laboratory notebooks, diaries, drawings and designs and to whatever other record of day-by-day thinking may have been kept.

The preceding paper described how all-pervasive was the influence that Paracelsus designated ‘astral’. In what sense, then, is it true that he placed restrictions, on astrological powers? The restriction applies to the more limited and usual sense of astrology, referring to the control of events on earth by the stars in the sky. Paracelsus was not prepared to hand over our fates entirely to a distant autocracy of the stars quite beyond our control.