Annals of Science最新文献

So-called antimatter in the form of elementary particles such as positive electrons (antielectrons alias positrons) and negative protons (antiprotons) has for long been investigated by physicists. However, atoms or molecules of this exotic kind are conspicuously absent from nature. Since antimatter is believed to be symmetric with ordinary matter, the flagrant asymmetry constitutes a problem that still worries physicists and cosmologists. As first suggested by Paul Dirac in 1933, in distant parts of the universe there might be entire stars and galaxies made of antiparticles alone. Why not? This paper examines how the concepts of antiparticles and antimatter slowly migrated from particle physics to astronomy and cosmology. At around 1970 a few physicists speculated about an anti-universe separate from ours while others looked for the charge asymmetry in quantum processes in the early big-bang explosion of the universe. Others again proposed a 'plasma cosmology' that kept our world and the hypothetical world of antimatter apart. Soviet physicists and astronomers were no less interested in the problem than their colleagues in the West. The paper details the development up to the late 1970s, paying attention not only to mainstream scientific works but also to more speculative ideas, some of them very speculative. By that time the antimatter mystery remained mysterious - which is still the situation.

We are all used to drawing straight lines to represent time, and above them, we plot historical events or physical or economic data. What to us is a self-evident convention, is however of an astonishingly recent date: it emerged only in the second half of the eighteenth century. To us, this late date seems paradoxical and cries out for an explanation. How else did earlier periods measure change, if not as a function of time? it will be argued that since Antiquity, time was taken to measure change, and change to occur in space. 'Our' idea of representing time as an independent dimension would have seemed aberrant. But then, a second issue arises. Did not medieval natural philosophers employ timelines, Oresme's diagram of the mean speed theorem being the most famous case? However, as will be shown, our interpretation of his diagram is probably wrong. This insight, in turn, takes care of a third paradox, namely Galileo's initial inability to represent the law of free fall correctly. This article will document that the timeline first emerged in the late sixteenth century in works on chronology, made its first appearance in physics in Galileo's diagrams, and had its general breakthrough in the eighteenth century.

On November 14th, 1770, the young chemist Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier (1743-1794) read his 'Sur la nature de l'eau' to the Académie des Sciences. Eventually published in the Académie's journal in 1773, the two-part memoire challenged a widely held view of earlier experimenters: the transmutability of matter. Specifically, experimenters such as Jean-Baptiste Van Helmont (1580-1644), Robert Boyle (1627-1691), and Ole Borsch (1626-1690) had noted that when distilled water was heated in a glass vessel, a small amount of earthy residue remained, seemingly demonstrating the transmutation of water into earth. Antoine-Laurent designed an experiment to determine whether it was really to the 'destruction of a portion of the water that this residual earth owed its origin, or if it was to that of the glass.' In partial agreement with Jean-Baptiste Le Roy (1720-1800), a fellow academician, Antoine-Laurent aimed to disprove the antiquated belief - the transmutation of one element into another - by using a glass vessel from the alchemist's cabinet: the pelican.

The history of science is increasingly directing its attention to the diachronic examination of women's involvement within spaces dedicated to scientific inquiry. While this field of study boasts rich and meticulous historiography, delving into the sixteenth century leaves the impression of encountering either a noticeable absence of women in the realm of natural history or an underexplored period in this regard. Undoubtedly, within the Italian context of the time, the cultural milieu shaped by the Counter-Reformation further heightened the social challenges faced by women.Notwithstanding these challenges, a noteworthy female figure emerges in the latter half of the sixteenth century - Francesca Fontana, the second wife of the natural history scholar Ulisse Aldrovandi (1522-1605). From an overall view of the sources, Fontana seems to assume a pivotal role in the realization of collections and works attributed to the eminent naturalist. This study aims to delineate the role played by Fontana within Aldrovandi's 'officina naturale.' By examining the available documents in a chronological order, my aim is to provide insights into the evolution of her education and her practical and technical skills, harnessed in the pursuit of her husband's enterprises and scholarly contributions.

Sounds are heard, sometimes even felt, but in most cases they remain unseen. This ephemeral and invisible nature of sound was already considered a problem when the science of acoustics took form in the seventeenth century. The fact that sound could not be seen was described as a significant hindrance to its understanding. But it was precisely during this time that a wide variety of sounds attracted broad scientific attention across Europe. Scholars, natural philosophers, and mathematicians investigated and experimented with sound and musical instruments and developed theories of hearing. This article looks at the role of images, diagrams, and visualization techniques in late seventeenth-century acoustics, bringing together the history of sound and the history of scientific images. Focusing on water and light as the dominant analogies for sound, the article demonstrates that visualization was an important tool for thinking about sound and allowed for the circulation of theories and experiments. At the same time, the epistemic status of these images remained contested, as there was no single model that could explain the different ways sound behaves as it moves through space and that could be visualized.

This article investigates Haast's claim that in March 1862 he independently reached the same controversial conclusion as Ramsay, that lake basins in previously glaciated regions were formed by ancient glaciers. Both men's views fuelled a passionate debate in British scientific societies. However, science historians largely ignore Haast's contribution or imply he knew about Ramsay's 'theory' before coming to a conclusion about Southern Alps lakes.To assess whether Haast independently reached that conclusion in March 1862, field records, correspondence, reports, newspaper articles, and scientific publications are examined. Of significance are communications with geologists Hochstetter, Hector, and Ramsay, botanist Hooker, and physicist Tyndall. Consideration of what Haast observed in March 1862 is also critical.However, Haast's 1862 conclusion differs from Ramsay's. While Ramsay was convinced ancient glaciers scooped out rock basins, resulting in deep lakes, Haast believed ancient retreating glaciers left moraines that dammed valleys, resulting in shallow lakes. Regardless of their differences, after Haast read Ramsay's paper in 1864, he applied Ramsay's 'theory' to New Zealand's alpine lakes and proposed an excavation process.The essence of both Ramsay's and Haast's conclusions has been confirmed by research in formerly glaciated regions worldwide. However, Haast's contribution to glaciology is overlooked or underemphasized, and warrants being more widely acknowledged.

This article sheds new light on Alexander von Humboldt's political position in the revolutionary decade between 1789 and 1799. The young naturalist interacted with both supporters and opponents of the revolution. In July 1790, he even participated in the preparations for the Festival of the Federation in Paris together with Georg Forster. However, Humboldt remained detached from Europe's polarized politics. He avoided taking a firm stance and distanced himself from revolutionary violence. Continuous emotional and physical crises, in addition to his immersion into scientific studies, fuelled this retreat. While steeped in Enlightenment ideas and committed to a cosmopolitan understanding of liberty, Humboldt absorbed the critique of the French Revolution and the skeptical take on rationalism that the philosophers Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi and Wilhelm von Humboldt, Alexander's brother, articulated.By recognizing these influences and reexamining autobiographical sources, we can identify the various intellectual and political contexts in which Alexander von Humboldt operated during the 1790s. This polycentric approach leads to a nuanced understanding of Humboldt's political thinking in revolutionary Europe. It explains his caution in political matters and revises the conventional image of Humboldt as a fervent supporter of the French Revolution.

This article uses the mythological figure of the satyr to examine European attitudes towards incorporating mythical creatures into zoology and, more broadly, to survey attempts to reconcile the relative status of myth vis-à-vis modern science. Evidence is used from the past five hundred years to argue for the longevity of these debates, which continue to repeat the same arguments based on the same sources. It is argued that scholars' attitudes towards Ancient civilizations play a significant role in explaining whether they decide to consider the satyr as the product of the imperfect observation of monkeys or as a creature on its own right.

This essay proposes that the only publication of the Accademia del Cimento, referred to as Saggi,¹1 Accademia del Cimento, Saggi di naturali esperienze fatte nell' Accademia del Cimento sotto la protezione del serenissimo principe Leopoldo di Toscana e descritte dal segretario di essa Accademia (Firenze: Per Giuseppe Cocchini, 1667). had as one of its main goals the celebration of the House of Medici's paternity of cutting-edge experiments and instruments during the reign of Grand Duke Ferdinando II. These included Ferdinando II's thermometers and hygrometers, Torricelli's experiment and barometer, and Galileo's pendulum as a clock-regulator. It seems that this agenda went unnoticed, not at the time of its initial circulation, but rather in modern historiography. Christiaan Huygens's challenged invention of the pendulum clock provides a case study to explore the agenda of this publication and the problem of defining an invention in seventeenth-century Europe. This paper presents for the first time the document that attests to when the first specimen of Huygens's clock arrived in Florence, disproving the previously believed date of September 1657. The paper argues that over the last two centuries, this error has made the Medici narratives of this dispute appear inconsistent and marginalized them. In light of this new find, they must be reconsidered.

In 1614, the German astronomer Simon Mayr published his claim about the discovery of Jupiter's satellites. In his treatise Mundus Jovialis, Mayr made his assertion in a convoluted but unequivocal manner, earning resentment from Galileo Galilei, who published his harsh protest in 1623 in Il Saggiatore. Though Galileo's objections were fallacious in some respects, and though numerous scholars took to the field to prove Mayr's claim, none ever really succeeded, and the historical evidence remains to Mayr's detriment. On the basis of such historical evidence, including comparisons between Mundus Jovialis and Mayr's earlier works, Mayr's independent discovery of the satellites can be ruled out. Indeed, it is very likely that he never observed them before 30 December 1610, nearly a year after Galileo. The lack of a corpus of Mayr's observations and the inaccuracy of his tables are also puzzling.