Who Owned Waterloo?: Battle, Memory, and Myth in British History, 1815–1852

Abstract

tacular” fashion than before (212). And he makes the case that the physical forms of the books themselves were meant to exude dignity, signifying their noble patron whilst maximizing “profits and prestige” for the authors and publisher in return (225). Chapter 4 provides a thorough overview of how the Bridgewaters were reviewed in the scientific and religious periodicals, offering prospective readers a domesticated vision of science safe for Christian consumption. Part 3, consisting of four chapters, is dedicated to the readers of the Bridgewaters and the diverse contexts in which the books were read. Scientific reading as a form of religious practice is taken-up in Chapter 5 where we encounter the remarkable story of Ellen Parry. The daughter of the physician, Charles Henry Parry, Ellen had incorporated the reading of scientific works into her daily devotional practices since the age of seven. Amongst the books she consulted were several Bridgewaters which furnished her with the necessary materials for “rational recreation and pious reflection” (295). Unfortunately, Ellen did not live to see her eighteenth birthday, having succumbed to illness before she could read Buckland’s geological treatise. Yet, Ellen’s devotional practice and experiences as reader were not atypical, but reflective of Christian readers across Britain. This theme is explored further in Chapter 6 by looking at how Christian preachers integrated the Bridgewaters into their weekly sermons. In Chapter 7, Topham documents how scientific practitioners, including the authors, used the Bridgewaters to cultivate an image of the Christian man of science, thereby securing moral legitimacy for themselves and their work. The treatises were also read against the backdrop of attempts to reform British universities in regard to scientific education. Here Topham reaches the counterintuitive conclusion that the Bridgewaters were more successful in furthering scientific studies at secular institutions such as the universities of Edinburgh and London than at the traditional Anglican strongholds of Oxford and Cambridge. Chapter 8 contains a series of case studies, exploring how the Bridgewaters informed and shaped the scientific practice of its readers. By reconstructing the readings of Charles Darwin, Charles Babbage, Richard Owen, and William Carpenter, Topham manages to show how the Bridgewaters served as an entry point for these readers to explore the relation – and tension – between arguments for design and those grounded in scientific observation. In the conclusion, Topham returns to the idea that the Bridgewaters gave shape to a “theistic science” that emphasized the “uniformity of nature” and upheld the notion that God oversaw his creation via natural laws (476). This vision of science, argues Topham, was much closer to the scientific naturalism of late Victorian Britain than the natural theology of William Paley. By employing a book history approach, Topham has succeeded in providing fresh insights into the role of print culture in mediating the relationship between religion and science on the eve of the Victorian era. Reading the Book of Nature will become a standard reference work for those interested in understanding the transformations in writing, publishing, and reading in nineteenth-century science. Henry-James Meiring Linda Hall Library Fellow