On September 17, 1683 Antonie van Leeuwenhoek wrote a letter
to the Royal Society in London describing animalcules—tiny one celled
animals invisible to the naked eye now known as protozoa. In doing so he inadvertently founded a new branch of science—microbiology.
Leeuwenhoek was an unlikely scientist. At the time most scientific investigation was
the sole providence of gentlemen who
had the education, leisure time for investigation, and the fortune
to support the cost of their work.
He was neither a gentleman or particularly well educated. He came from a family of tradesmen or what the English called skilled mechanics. His father was a basket maker and his mother’s
family were brewers. They were from Delft, a reasonably prosperous small
city in the Netherlands province
of South Holland.
As a young man Leeuwenhoek became a draper.
He also worked as a surveyor,
wine assayer and as a municipal official. His occupations made him comfortable, if not wealthy and he was a respected member of the
community. He was friends with and almost the exact
contemporary of Delft’s most famous
resident the painter Johannes
Vermeer and was an executor of
his estate when the master died in
poverty in 1675.
His commercial success allowed Leeuwenhoek the time to pursue his
growing interest in science. An avid
reader, he had read Robert Hooke’s illustrated
book Micrographia.
Hook was working with primitive compound
microscopes using two lenses. But the technology
of he these devises was primitive and could only magnify objects 20 to 30 times.
Around the mid-1660’s he began to grind
lenses in an attempt to create more
effective instruments.
My high school science text credited Leeuwenhoek as the inventor of
the microscope. As you can see, he was
not. Compound microscopes had been
around for nearly 40 years. His devices
had single lenses, but the quality
of the lenses was so high that he was able to achieve documented magnification
of over 200 times. And evidence from his
detailed observations indicates that
some of the devices that he constructed may have neared a power of 500.
Leeuwenhoek’s breakthrough—and a closely
guarded secret in his life time—was not discovered until 1957 when
scientists discovered that he used finely
drawn thread of molten glass to create perfect
small spheres which became his lenses.
The small lens would be set in a brass
or silver plate in front of which
would be a pointed rod on an adjustable screw which would hold the
object being studied. Leeuwenhoek,
working in the brightest natural light,
would hold the devise close to his eye.
Leeuwenhoek constructed at least 500
different devices, only a handful of which still survive. He often crafted new microscopes specifically
for the specimens he wished to examine.
He made careful, extraordinarily detailed written observations of what he saw. These observations are so clear modern scientists can often identify the exact species of microbe he was observing. Since his drawing skills were poor, he later also hired a professional illustrator to make drawings to be enclosed in his letters to the Royal Society and other scientists.
His correspondence with the Royal
Society continued for more than 50 years through his final illnesses. The Society
frequently published his findings translated from Dutch to English or Latin in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, the most
important scientific journal in the world at the time.
Among his
main discoveries were infusoria, the unicellular animals in pond
water now mostly classified as protists; bacteria from the human
mouth; vacuoles, important structures in the cells of plants,
fungi, and some protia; spermatozoa; the banded structure
of mussel fiber; and the blood flow in capillaries.
Leeuwenhoek commissioned a professional artist to illustrate many of his observations for the Royal Society including these animalcules.
In his
later years Leeuwenhoek was famous. He was visited by William of Orange and other notables
who he let make their own observations with his equipment. He even presented a microscope to Peter the Great of Russia when he was invited to visit the Tsar’s ship.
Active to the end, he died in Delft
in 1723 at the age of 90.
In 1981 Leeuwenhoek’s original specimens, sent to the Royal
Society were discovered in a remarkable state
of preservation along with many of his hand written notes in Dutch.
His life and work is a testament to
the talent and persistence of a common
craftsman.
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