Foreword<br > IN 16o3 Queen Elizabeth of England died， an old， old<br >woman. James VI of Scotland became James I of England in a<br >new century， when ideas， politics， and religion were in greater<br >ferment than in any century before our own. One after<br >another， the presuppositions that men had lived by were being<br >overturned. The Reformation had come of age in England.<br >Politics informed it; religion was its language. Nothing was<br >safe from change.<br > In the realm of physical science， even the stable body of a<br >man was invaded. William Harvey began to teach a new<br >concept of the body awhirl with his discovery that the blood<br >was not a still pool， but was in pulsing motion， circulating in a<br >never-ending stream through the heart. Copernicus had jarred<br >the old Biblical belief in a still world-centered universe， with<br >heaven above it and hell below it. Man， the center of a simple<br >world where God had heard the fall of every sparrow， was<br >thrust onto a tiny planet whirling forever around a huge<br >central sun， diminished to a speck. In the early years of the<br > century， Galileo looked through the newly invented telescope<br > and saw the stars and opened up a space unfathomed by any<br > man before him. Not only new and dangerous frontiers of the<br > mind， but the physical frontiers of the sea were crossed， as new<br > and as dangerous. All these explosions shook men with<br > insecurity and caused inevitable reactions: the stepping forth，<br > then the drawing back in fear to slam a repressive lid on what<br > had been opened.<br ><br >