The real problem with this work lies in his epistemology, which is shoddy beyond measure. To wit: "The texts of science have no meaning apart from what readers make out of them, yet -ironically - they aspire to be a transcript of the truth of nature, needing no interpretation." Historians and scientists alike may well be confused about many of the details of how science developed, but Secord is a reader who can make little sense of science. He seems to be at home in the emotional, blustering, and over-moralized world our ancestors lived in before they learned how to evaluate the world with some degree of objectivity (full objectivity is impossible, of course). This was the problem the 19th century set itself. The fact that this rationalism was carried too far does not mean it needs to be rejected in toto. I am old enough to remember the distortions of print culture and I find those fostered by electronic media and espoused by Mr. Secord to be no improvement. All symbolic systems distort. The current obsession with cultural relativism is no more than an unconscious mimicry of habits encouraged by television, which favors rhetoric (he said-she said) over objectivity. Mr. Secord and his ilk consider themselves to be on the cutting edge of historical criticism when they really represent a new orthodoxy fostered by television. Secord is hardly the chief offender here. He retains both a readable style and knowledge of how to gather and evaluate evidence. He would be a better historian if he would rid himself of his philosophical pretensions.

Bigger than Darwin

VICTORIAN SENSATION: The Extraordinary Publication, Reception, and Secret Authorship of Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation by James A Secord Chicago U P pp624

MIRANDA SEYMOUR

Tennyson, with whom this accomplished work begins and ends, was an avid reader. In 1844, he spotted a review of an anonymously authored book which, according to the critic, convincingly linked the natural sciences to the history of creation. The poet, like many other readers of Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation, had already formed what we might consider advanced views on this subject. Man had resulted from a slow gestation beginning with simple invertebrates; man's ability to reason and distinguish between good and bad was part of his development. Tennyson had already completed much of In Memoriam, arguably the most powerful of Victorian poems. After reading Vestiges, he used its notion of an ever-ascending condition to celebrate the idea of a link "Betwixt us and the crowning race".

Tennyson's readers knew exactly what that reference meant. It is we who have lost it. Hailing Darwin as the great originator, we have forgotten that Vestiges, in the mid-19th century, had a greater impact, reaching far more readers and being discussed at all levels.

This is the central point of James A Secord's book. The idea he illustrates in a hundred entertaining ways is that we, as readers, like making narratives. We want things tidy, with beginnings and ends. It's reassuring to suppose that the concept of evolutionary culture began with Darwin's Origin of the Species in 1859. Reassuring, and wrong, not just because Darwin's grandfather had been writing about evolutionary matters in the previous century, but because geologists had reached Darwin's conclusions on evolution - not natural selection, which blew up a storm rather later - years before he published his turgid and, in many respects, quite cautious book.

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, first published (anonymously) in 1818, was not directly responsible for the upward surge of new ideas about creation and spontaneous generation. Shelley's extraordinary book did, however, provide the creationists and their opponents with a potent image. Discussions of man's origins were regular among the circles in which she herself moved; her own interest in fossil history led her to consider writing a book on the subject. The suggestions made by Vestiges were, then, original only in the elegance of their formulation. (Even its opponents conceded that the prose was superb.) Revealingly, the gossips and critics were able to produce at least 10 authors who might have produced such an argument. Two of them, intriguingly, were women.

"Sensational" was the description always given to Vestiges. In Britain alone, it went through 14 editions and sold 40,000 copies: why? It helped, of course, that Vestiges looked small and user-friendly, its scarlet cover causing one irate reviewer to compare it to "the accomplished harlot". It was, unlike Darwin's later work, easy to follow and illustrated with homely analogies. Above all, it was a curiosity. The anonymity by which the Scottish publisher, Robert Chambers, screened himself for 40 years became one of the book's hottest selling points.

Not even Secord, whose knowledge is impressively omnivorous, is certain why Chambers continued to hide his identity for so long. The decision was first taken, it seems, from a combination of prudence and shrewdness. He wanted to sell copies; he knew that his unscientific status would be held against him. Anonymity, while frequent in fiction, was unusual in the fields of biography and history. To be anonymous in this area was to attract attention and speculation. Guessing the author became part of the enterprise in a period that extended into decades during which Vestiges and its authorship were passionately discussed. An anonymous sequel, published in 1845, may have sold only 3,000 copies, but it achieved the more important goal for Chambers of keeping up interest.

Transmutation was the brand-new theory of creation that Chambers put on offer in his book, prefacing it with the bold, Frankenstein-led query: "In what way was the creation of animated beings effected?" The notion of endless ascent was not received with unanimous respect. Florence Nightingale joked that she found it impossible to climb down again, "and was obliged to go off as an angel". Darwin, scratching for fleas while he furtively studied the British Museum's copy, thought the geology and zoology were hopelessly amateur, although he agreed with the general conclusions. Philip Gosse, rejecting the idea that fossils indicated a pre-biblical history, wrote a response, Omphalos; 75% of the published copies were pulped through lack of demand. Vestiges continued to sell. Punch joked about a lonely book that is spurned at the door of every famous author who might have claimed it. Chambers, confronted with an inquiry about "that horrible book" and whether he had read it, kept his counsel.

It is hard to overpraise this book. Magnificently illustrated, erudite, thoughtful and stimulating, it has the added bonus of a wickedly subversive style. I liked, to single out a small example, Secord's throwaway description of a Punch journalist: "Douglas Jerrold was a known infidel (and ate his peas with a knife)." One of the illustrations shows a group of "advanced thinkers" chatting by the fire. The light catches their faces; they look intensely alive, and enthralled. Reading Victorian Sensation gives you the illusion, at least, of joining them.