Dominated by its medieval moated castle, the small Dutch market town of ’s-Heerenberg stands a few miles from Arnhem close to the German border. Casper Hakfoort was born into this rural community on 6 January 1955 and he returned to it to be buried shortly after his death on 4 March 1999. In the intervening forty-five years Casper had travelled far from his roots in this small agricultural town and played a significant – but tragically curtailed – role in the international history of science community.

As a bright pupil at school in ’s-Heerenberg he was attracted to the study of physics. Deciding to pursue further studies in this area he registered at the Catholic University of Nijmegen in 1973, transferring to the University of Utrecht two years later and obtaining his first degree in 1980. However, physics did not fully satisfy his intellectual strivings and he sought answers to fundamental questions that are not engaged in most physics courses. This dissatisfaction prompted him to forsake the study of physics and instead to register for a Ph.D. in the history of science under the supervision of Professor H. A. M. Snelders at the University of Utrecht, where he studied from 1980 to 1985. In the following year he successfully defended his dissertation, entitled ‘Optica in de eeuw van Euler’, later published in Amsterdam, in 1986.

The theory, method and disciplinary foundations of ‘book history’ are addressed in the context of a close examination of the International Scientific Series, a set of monographs that appeared from 1871 to 1911 in Britain, France, Germany, Italy, Russia and the United States. Working closely with entrepreneurial publishers, most authors of ISS volumes were scientific professionals (T. H. Huxley, John Tyndall, Herbert Spencer and E. L. Youmans were among the founders) aiming to educate a broad popular audience. Commercial, scholarly and other pressures made the texts less fixed than they appear: revisions, appendices and other evidences of textual instability have been overlooked by previous commentators.

Historians of science have long acknowledged the important role that journals play in the scientific enterprise. They both secure the shared values of a scientific community and certify what that community takes to be licensed knowledge. The advent of the first learned periodicals in the mid-seventeenth century was therefore a major event. But why did this event happen when it did, and how was the permanence of the learned journal secured? This paper reveals some of the answers. It examines the shifting fortunes of one of the earliest of natural-philosophical periodicals, the Philosophical Transactions, launched in London in 1665 by Henry Oldenburg. The paper shows how fraught the enterprise of journal publishing was in the Europe of that period, and, not least, it draws attention to a number of publications that arose out of the commercial realm of the Restoration to rival (or parody) Oldenburg's now famous creation. By doing so it helps restore to view the hard work that underpinned the republic of letters.

And as for natural philosophy, is it not removed from Oxford and Cambridge to Gresham College in London, and to be learned out of their gazettes?

Thomas Hobbes, Behemoth (written c. 1668).

Commander Derek Howse, who has died aged 78, was a man of many talents which he used unstintingly in time of war, and in times of peace for the public benefit. After a distinguished career in the Royal Navy he joined the Museum service, and rose in it to become the leading authority on the history of the buildings, instruments and astronomical timekeepers of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, on the solution in the eighteenth century of the problem of determining the longitude at sea by lunar distance and by chronometer, and on the development and use of radar at sea.

Derek was the son of a Captain of the Royal Navy, and at the age of thirteen and a half years followed his father into the Navy as a Naval Cadet. In HMS Britannia (then the Royal Naval College, Dartmouth) for the next three and a half years Derek was given a very broad – for those, even more for present times – education, for it was in the sciences and the humanities, in marine engineering and in seamanship, before going to sea as a midshipman in the 16″-gun battleship HMS Rodney for some two years. He then completed his sub-lieutenant's qualifying courses in navigation, gunnery, torpedoes, anti-submarine warfare and signals in 1939, as the Second World War broke out, when he again went to sea.

In selecting among the many statements that were made in the ‘War of Words’, it is important to choose only those that contained practical proposals for administrative reform and redirection of Government policy. Only then can we assess the extent to which they were in tune with or diverged from the plans being developed within the Board of Education. These were the ones that, because of their focused nature, draftspersons in the Board of Education might conceivably have felt constrained to take into account, and either to incorporate in, or exclude from, their own designs. In this way it is possible to be precise about what scientists wanted in 1914–17, and to estimate their degree of realism and the likely scope of their influence.

The Fellows of the Royal Society and the Chemical and Engineering societies must, Sir William Ramsay (FRS, chemist) urged in October 1914, be co-ordinated. They need, he said, to ‘work together at what for us is the supreme problem of all – how to conquer the Germans?’. The British Science Guild was to be included and the Royal Society was to ‘set the example’. Committees should be created; experts from other societies were to be added.

In March 1915 Ramsay prepared a ‘Draft Scheme for a Chemical Council of State’. It was to comprise twenty-four members, one-third technical chemists, one-third scientific investigators and one-third analytical and consulting chemists. It was to collect information on all aspects of the industry; to bring universities into contact with manufacturers; and to advise Government. Members were to be paid a small retainer. Agents were to be employed to visit factories and colleges. Eight members were to retire each year. The proposed Council was ‘to resemble to some extent a Royal Commission’. It would be appointed for ten years in the first instance. It would report annually to the Crown, but would not be attached to any Government department, although it would be associated with several. Non-political, it would be appointed by and directly responsible to the Crown. The president of the Royal Society would initially nominate two technical chemists and two scientific chemists. They, chaired by him, would choose twenty others.

In the essay review by Arne Hessenbruch published in our September 1999 issue, a proof reading error occurred on p. 356. The second sentence of the last paragraph on that page should have read ‘It demotes the importance of the scientific context, and so the biographer and the reader do not really have to understand it’. We apologize to Dr Hessenbruch for this error.

‘Morgan's canon’ is a rule for making inferences from animal behaviour about animal minds, proposed in 1892 by the Bristol geologist and zoologist C. Lloyd Morgan, and celebrated for promoting scepticism about the reasoning powers of animals. Here I offer a new account of the origins and early career of the canon. Built into the canon, I argue, is the doctrine of the Oxford philologist F. Max Müller that animals, lacking language, necessarily lack reason. Restoring the Müllerian origins of the canon in turn illuminates a number of changes in Morgan's position between 1892 and 1894. I explain these changes as responses to the work of the American naturalist R. L. Garner. Where Morgan had a rule for interpreting experiments with animals, Garner had an instrument for doing them: the Edison cylinder phonograph. Using the phonograph, Garner claimed to provide experimental proof that animals indeed spoke and reasoned.

After 1700, astrology lost the respect it once commanded in medical circles. But the belief that the heavens influenced bodily health persisted – even in learned medicine – until well into the nineteenth century. The continuing vitality of these ideas owed much to the new empirical and mechanical outlook of their proponents. Taking their cue from the work of Robert Boyle and Richard Mead, a number of British practitioners amassed statistical evidence which purported to prove the influence of the Moon upon fevers and other diseases. Such ideas flourished in the colonies and in the medical services of the armed forces, but their exponents were not marginal men. Some, like James Lind, were widely respected and drew support for their views from such influential figures as Erasmus Darwin.

This paper explores the careers of several British women astronomers in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. I postulate that the only category of scientific practice open to most of these women was that of an ‘amateur’. They would have become professionals had they had the opportunity but since they were barred from professional status they used their talents to promote the importance of amateur science. I propose the term ‘obligatory amateur’ for these women who, unlike men, were unable to choose amateur or professional status. I explore this concept of a ‘gendered’ amateurism through the life and works of Annie Maunder, with references to British women astronomers contemporary with her.

There are many reasons why someone can be persuaded to become editor of a journal such as BJHS. Not least among them for this new editor is the challenge of emulating the high standards set by a succession of editors, and in particular those of his immediate predecessor. Janet Browne has, as all BJHS readers know, worked long and hard since 1994 to maintain and enhance the quality of the journal. It is therefore my very real pleasure to pay tribute to all her efforts on behalf of the Society and to add my own personal thanks for the numerous ways in which she has made possible a seamless transition to the new regime. It will also be apparent that her sure touch will be discernible upon many of the articles forthcoming in 2000.