To describe a book that discusses just one image as focused would be something of an understatement. In this case, however, the subject is the extremely famous frontispiece to Thomas Sprat's History of the Royal Society (London, 1667), published just a few years after the society's foundation. As an image that has accrued enormous historiographic importance, becoming the image of Restoration science, a tight focus is warranted. This is also familiar territory to Hunter, who has uncovered the story of the image's creation and is perfectly placed to interpret it within the intellectual context of Restoration England.

One of the strange facts about the image, which was designed by John Evelyn and etched by Wenceslaus Hollar, is that it was not originally meant for Sprat's book. Indeed, this helps explain the odd relationship between image and book, in particular the way the frontispiece is folded to fit into some copies yet does not appear in others. Hunter reveals that the book it was originally for was an alternative apologia for the Royal Society, conceived in 1664 by Somerset divine and cider enthusiast John Beale. It was Beale who enlisted Evelyn to create a design and who then proposed it be used instead in the History once it was clear that Sprat's long-anticipated work was finally nearing completion.

Most of Hunter's discussion concerns the design of the frontispiece, with chapters on the overall scheme and on the individual elements. These show just how richly symbolic the final design was and how closely it reflected the intentions and activities of the early Royal Society. The overall design, Hunter explains, draws on Renaissance religious art and illustrations of instruments and technical processes, such as Johannes Stradanus's series the Nova Reperta, published in the 1590s. Hunter convincingly identifies the frontispiece to Nicolas Chaperon's Sacrae Historiae (1649) as Evelyn's model for the foreground, in which the bust of Charles II is crowned with a wreath by Fame. Hunter suggests that Evelyn's borrowing may have been a deliberate reference to the painter Raphael (whose bust it is in the Chaperon image) as a worthy intellectual hero for the new society.

The discussion then moves on to the details: the people depicted; the books and accoutrements of the Royal Society (including charter, statutes and mace); and, in a chapter by Jim Bennett, the many instruments. Hunter argues that Hollar had a more decisive role in the depiction of these details, many of which had particular resonance with the society's activities. Many items can be identified, including books by esteemed progenitors (such as Copernicus and Francis Bacon), as well as works directly associated with the society, including Evelyn's Sylva (1664). The analysis here is honest about things that have been harder to pin down and about obvious discrepancies. The fanciful depiction of the society's mace, for instance, suggests that Hollar had not seen the real thing.

Bennett's chapter continues the detailed analysis and provides an account of the diverse activities of the society. He persuasively argues that real instruments, not just proposals, are depicted, although he is rightly cautious about the limitations of the images as unproblematic sources of historical evidence. Some are easily identified: a sixty-foot telescope that Robert Hooke worked on with the London optical instrument-maker Richard Reeve in 1666–1667; a longitude timekeeper tested in the early 1660s. Angle-measuring instruments, thermometers, instruments for chemistry and pneumatics and others can also be pinned down, with Hooke's prolific activities proving the common denominator, although some items remain unattributed. What emerges is a fascinating picture of the potent mix of practical inventions and investigations with which the society's fellows were engaged in the 1660s. Above all, Bennett and Hunter note, the frontispiece shows not a group of things simply to be looked at, but tools for action, a cabinet of experiment.

The concluding chapter reminds us that the frontispiece should not be seen solely as a part of the book in which it normally appears. It had a separate genesis, making it an addition to Sprat's work (conceptually and practically) rather than a seamless part of it. It had a separate life too, probably as a loose print and certainly as copies printed on very fine gampi paper from Japan, perhaps intended for presentation copies of the Sprat history. These material choices were significant, Hunter argues, for Evelyn's conception of the society's Baconian programme.

As a study of the rich detail held in a single image, this is an exemplary work. Appropriately, it is very well illustrated in a way that helps the reader focus on the discussion. Hunter and Bennett have pursued the iconographic detail with energy and have provided an engaging and convincing narrative, while discussing honestly any uncertainties that remain and discrepancies between depictions and reality. Above all, the book places the image firmly in the culture in which it was conceived and produced, showing its grounding in the ideals and activities of the nascent Royal Society. The book does not talk about how the image has been used (and abused) in the 350 years since its publication, perhaps a long book in itself, but anyone thinking about adding it as an illustration in the future might now pause to consider the intentions of those originally responsible for its appearance.