The notion of the ‘Scientific Revolution’, spanning roughly the period from 1500 to 1700, has served as the linch-pin for historians of science from at least the late nineteenth century, although it did not acquire that name until the 1930s. Encompassing the time between Copernicus and Newton, it has traditionally served as the terminus ad quem for the ancient and medieval developments that preceded it and the terminus a quo for all that followed. According to traditional accounts, this period witnessed the birth of modern science and its attendant methods and institutions. Not itself an explanatory concept, the Scientific Revolution has become the focus for questions that guide historians of science, questions about what it was, what exactly happened, why it happened, and why it happened when and where it did. The past century has witnessed many changes in the historiography of the Scientific Revolution. Yet, as this chapter will demonstrate, there has been a close interrelation between conceptions of the Scientific Revolution and assumptions about the relationship between science and religion. Focussing on the way the Scientific Revolution was defined in the late nineteenth and throughout the twentieth centuries, a period when science and religion were generally portrayed as separate, analysis of the formation of that view and its ultimate demise will highlight the close relationship between changes in the historiography of the Scientific Revolution, on the one hand, and ideas about the relationship between science and religion, on the other.

In considering the ways in which early modern philosophers used Hellenistic philosophy, the concept of appropriation is particularly useful. Rather than being the disembodied transmission and reception of ideas, the metaphor of appropriation gives agency to individual thinkers, and enables us to understand them in their own particular historical and intellectual contexts. Ideas do not influence subsequent ideas, nor do they develop by their own intrinsic power. Rather, particular individuals in real historical contexts deploy and develop earlier ideas to solve problems of their own. Thinking in terms of appropriation leads us to think about the historical agents as well as the content of their ideas. We must consider why particular figures were attracted to one tradition or another; how the way they asked their questions affected the use of the ideas they borrowed; and what role their own presuppositions played in their use of the appropriated ideas and texts.

Early modern philosophers often appropriated ideas from ancient philosophy and used them to solve new problems in new contexts. Looking back to classical times, philosophers considered an array of texts that had been deemed canonical, in terms of which they could develop their own positions. In part, this approach was an outgrowth of Renaissance humanism, which was devoted – among other things – to the recovery of ancient sources.

The most satisfying tribute a scholar can receive is serious consideration of his or her work by other scholars. When Betty Jo Teeter Dobbs died suddenly and prematurely on March 29, 1994, 1 decided to invite a number of her colleagues, students, and friends to contribute papers to a volume in memory of her scholarly interests and the impact of her work. Dobbs's groundbreaking studies of the meaning of Newton's alchemy irrevocably altered our understanding of the Scientific Revolution and early modern natural philosophy. The scholarship of her associates reflects this impact – in spirit as well as detail. This volume stands as a tribute to her contributions.

Dobbs herself articulated some of the far-reaching ramifications of her work on Newton in her History of Science Society Distinguished Lecture, “Newton as Final Cause and First Mover,” in which she challenged the received understanding of the Scientific Revolution. This essay, which was originally published in Isis, opens the volume and sets the themes for the chapters that follow. Richard S. Westfall contributed an essay that went head-to-head with Dobbs's and which provides an eloquent defense of the utility – indeed necessity – of thinking in traditional terms about the Scientific Revolution. The debate between these two giants about the central concept in our field provides the broader context for the chapters in the volume. Subsequent events altered the direction of the volume after it was well underway. Westfall's sudden death on August 21, 1996, reinforced my decision to construct the volume in terms of their debate and, at the same time, to honor Westfall's memory along with Dobbs's.

The Scientific Revolution is probably the single most important unifying concept in the history of science. Usually referring to the period from Copernicus to Newton (roughly 1500 to 1700), it is considered to be the central episode in the history of science, the historical moment at which that unique way of looking at the world that we call “modern science” and its attendant institutions emerged. It has been taken as the terminus ad quern of classical and medieval science and the terminus a quo of all that followed. Not itself an explanatory concept, the Scientific Revolution has become the reference point for questions that guide historians of science, questions about what it was, what exactly happened, why it happened, and why it happened when and where it did.

Traditional histories of the Scientific Revolution have customarily focused on a list of canonical individuals who explored a canonical set of subjects. The individuals usually include Copernicus, Tycho, Kepler, Galileo, Vesalius, Harvey, Descartes, Boyle, and Newton. The subjects are astronomy, physics, mathematics, anatomy, physiology, and chemistry. This book reflects the problematization of the canon in recent scholarship. The traditional canonical figures often devoted themselves to noncanonical subjects and frequently resembled many of their contemporaries who have not found a place in the Scientific Revolution's hall of fame. Moreover, the subjects that engaged their attention do not readily map onto the canonical list of modern sciences. Questioning the canon leads us to inquire why and how it was formed. And this inquiry, in turn, causes us to interrogate our own presuppositions as historians and how those presuppositions affect what we see in the past.