Historians of scientific instruments have understandably focused on objects that they can see and hold. It is deeply satisfying to work with tangible things, especially when the things in question were actively used. However, there are many scientific instruments that no longer exist and about which we would like to know more. There are different types of instruments dating from antiquity to the more recent past that are now "lost," through various circumstances. There are different approaches to studying these, not least because the evidence we have for their existence is so varied. For some, we have written descriptions and, occasionally, visual depictions. Fortunately, there are many avenues-including newer techniques involving databases and network analysis-that give us insights into objects, individuals, and relationships that might otherwise be unknown.

Abstract Accounts of the history of physics sometimes describe major paradigm shifts followed by decades and even centuries of working through the consequences of the dominating paradigm. Some examples that are often pointed to as paradigm shifts are the Copernican revolution overtaking the millennium-old Ptolemaic system of astronomy and Newton’s mechanics replacing the ancient Aristotelian system. However, when thinking about ‘paradigm shifts’, there may be various different candidates that can be identified as possible ‘paradigms’ retrospectively. Thus it may be the case that paradigms are in the eye of the beholder.

We explore the extent to which ancient Greek authors formulated concepts that approximate or encompass our modern notions of precision and accuracy. First, we focus on estimates and measurements of geographic features, astronomical times and positions, and weight. These raise further questions about whether the quantities reported were measured, estimated, or rounded. While ancient sources discuss the use of instruments, it is not always clear that the aim was to achieve what we would today regard as 'precision'. Next, we briefly consider round numbers, observing that they could carry symbolic meaning, while unrounded numbers could give an impression of hard-won achievement. Finally, we examine uses of the word akribeia. This is often translated as 'precision' or 'exactness', and Greek writers sometimes used akribeia to denote an ideal for their inquiries. A brief look at its uses by a number of Greek writers will on the one hand show the mismatch with our term 'precision', and on the other hand throw some light on the aims of Greek investigators.

Abstract ‘Beyond Antiquity’ traces the legacies of ancient Greek and Roman science that endured through the Middle Ages, Renaissance, and into the modern period. The longevity of some concepts and concerns, such as those relating to matter, atoms, and chaos, points to a degree of continuity among scientific practitioners and communities. The influence of some ancient thinkers remained strong throughout the medieval and early modern periods. A division of labour between mathematicians and philosophers continued in formalized ways through the organization of education. The universities that were founded in the Middle Ages followed an Aristotelian curriculum, prevailing throughout the Renaissance until the 18th century. This chapter explores the specific interests of several Nobel prize-winning physicists in ancient Greek science, and the publication of the fragments of the Presocratic philosophers by Hermann Diels.

‘Beyond Antiquity’ traces the legacies of ancient Greek and Roman science that endured through the Middle Ages, Renaissance, and into the modern period. The longevity of some concepts and concerns, such as those relating to matter, atoms, and chaos, points to a degree of continuity among scientific practitioners and communities. The influence of some ancient thinkers remained strong throughout the medieval and early modern periods. A division of labour between mathematicians and philosophers continued in formalized ways through the organization of education. The universities that were founded in the Middle Ages followed an Aristotelian curriculum, prevailing throughout the Renaissance until the 18th century. This chapter explores the specific interests of several Nobel prize-winning physicists in ancient Greek science, and the publication of the fragments of the Presocratic philosophers by Hermann Diels.

Astronomy has often been called the oldest science, and some ancient Greek authors acknowledged a debt to Babylonian predecessors. Many of the earliest Greek philosophers are credited with astronomical observations, predictions, explanations, and discoveries. Yet, throughout much of Greco-Roman antiquity – and later – astronomy was regarded as a branch of mathematics, along with arithmetic, geometry, and harmonics. This view of astronomy – as a branch of mathematics – raises questions about what constituted astronomy, as well as its relationship to philosophy.

pertinent writings of particular Neoplatonists further to refine and argue for its thesis. In both parts, moreover, H. pays careful attention to previous scholarship pertinent to his topic and thesis. Conspicuously absent from his narrative, though, is analysis or even indication of where Porphyry’s mentor Plotinus fits into the book’s topic – for example, as may be gleaned from his Sixth Ennead and its treatises on being and number. This quibble aside, H.’s narrative and analyses highlight the diversity and plurality among the particular Neoplatonists not only with respect to how much, or to what degree, they discerned doctrinal harmony in Plato’s and Aristotle’s philosophies but also in their methodologies for discerning this. Thus, for example, we find Porphyry carefully critiquing (and criticising) Aristotelian doctrines regarding the soul to discern where Aristotle was correct (and so potentially in agreement with Plato) regarding the soul (pp. 56–8) whereas we find Stephanus of Alexandria purposively reading Aristotle in a manner which would agree with Platonic doctrine, proclaiming that ‘if he [Aristotle] spoke of an unwritten tablet . . . it is because it contains letters that are minuscule and invisible’ (p. 70). Another important corollary toH.’s harmonisation thesis is the fact that, howevermuch a particular Neoplatonist may discern Plato and Aristotle to ‘agree’, also a ‘recurrent feature in late Neoplatonism is the affirmation of the superiority of Plato over Aristotle in everything having to do with questions of metaphysics and theology’ (p. 52). Thus, for example, in reading Syranius we find ‘the distinction between an Aristotle who is more a philosopher of nature, and a Plato who is more of a theologian’ (p. 124). Or, in more general terms, among the Neoplatonists ‘the philosophy of Plato is considered to be higher, more theological, and more inspired as compared to that of Aristotle’ (p. 134) so that even ‘Aristotle’s Metaphysics can only be an intermediary stage between the study of principles and natural causes and the true theology developed byPlato’ (p. 134). Even here, though, there is no singlemonolithicNeoplatonist viewpoint, as Simplicius, for example, maintained that in most cases of seeming differences between Plato and Aristotle ‘the difference between the philosophers is not over a reality, but over a name’ (p. 167); and David (Elias) counsels the exegete not to approach the philosophers’ textsas either aPeripatetic or aPlatonist but to approach themasequals andnot take sides (p. 141). The book’s concluding bibliography of previous scholarship and textual resources is also (again aside from Plotinus) quite thorough and useful.

In 1990, Deborah Jean Warner, a curator at the Smithsonian Institution, published her now-classic article ‘What is a scientific instrument, when did it become one, and why?’. These questions were prompted by practical curatorial considerations: what was she supposed to collect for her museum? Today, we are still considering questions of what we collect for the future, why, and how. These questions have elicited some new and perhaps surprising answers since the publication of Warner’s article, sometimes – but not only – as a reflection of changing technologies and laboratory practices, and also as a result of changes in those disciplines that study science, including history of science and philosophy of science. In focusing attention on meanings associated with scientific instrument collections, and thinking about what objects are identified as scientific instruments, I consider how definitions of instruments influence what is collected and preserved.

Current ideas about the aims and value of scientific work and knowledge may be part of our inherited legacy from Greco-Roman antiquity. While financial rewards were important in the past and are important today, when we look at individual ancient Greeks and Romans known for their scientific ideas and achievement, we see that a number of these were avowedly pursuing science for a gain which was very specific, but not financial. Motivations might include intellectual curiosity and a desire for personal improvement, including increased understanding, as well as an interest in gaining reputation and influencing posterity. In Greco-Roman antiquity there were various ways in which an individual's scientific achievements could be celebrated, commemorated, honoured and memorialised; several are considered here.

We access Greek and Roman scientific ideas mainly through those texts which happen to survive. By concentrating only on the ideas conveyed, we may limit our understanding of the meaning of those ideas in their historical context. Through considering the diverse ways in which scientific ideas were communicated, in different types of texts, we can uncover otherwise hidden meanings and more fully comprehend the historical contexts in which those ideas were produced and shared, the aims of the authors and the expectations of ancient readers. Liba Taub explores the rich variety of formats used to discuss scientific, mathematical and technical subjects, from c.700 BCE to the sixth century CE. Each chapter concentrates on a particular genre - poetry, letter, encyclopaedia, commentary and biography - offering an introduction to Greek and Roman scientific ideas, while using a selection of ancient writings to focus on the ways in which we encounter them.

The Tarner Lectures on the Philosophy of Science were first given in 1919 at Trinity College, Cambridge. They were intended as a course on ‘the Philosophy of the Sciences and the Relations or Want of Relations between the different Departments of Knowledge’ (as noted in the Preface to Alfred North Whitehead’s The Concept of Nature [1920], based on his inaugural Tarner Lectures). The present volume comes from Lloyd’s 2012 Tarner Lectures; and, while its subtitle refers to ancient history, Lloyd demonstrates throughout his close engagement with twentieth-century philosophies of science and their ancient counterparts. This well illustrated volume is divided into five chapters. The first four examine the use of demonstration and its relation to democracy, debate, and discovery. They probe the ontological presuppositions of historical actors, with a view to understanding what ancient investigators thought they were studying and what they regarded as the value of their endeavours. Lloyd interrogates the nature and character of intellectual investigation itself, as practised in the ancient cultures of Mesopotamia, Greece, India, and China. Lloyd is well known for his detailed studies of ancient Greek and Chinese science and philosophy, as well as for his commitment to comparative histories. He reminds us that what we understand today to be ‘science’ differs in many ways from the studies of the physical world that were undertaken in ancient civilisations. In the concluding chapter, ‘The Great Divide’, which was not part of the lecture series, Lloyd explores questions related to the character of reasoning in human populations across space and time, acknowledging that linguistic, social, and cultural differences come into play. He argues that the capacity to investigate is shared by humans universally, but that the various styles and manifestations of investigation are diverse and distinct, both in antiquity and in more modern times. Throughout the volume, Lloyd emphasizes the differences in the routes for inquiry undertaken by thinkers in various ancient cultures. In the final chapter, he provocatively points to pluralism present in modern science. Currently, questions related to scientific pluralism are being debated by philosophers of science, including Hasok Chang and Martin Kusch. Is scientific inquiry enhanced by the coexistence of different—even conflicting—theories? Lloyd’s history of inquiry in antiquity is valuable in thinking about this sort of question today.