FOOTNOTES:
[2] Genesis vi, 2.
VI
THE FIXATION OF MERCURY
his is really one of the processes supposed to be involved in the transmutation of the metals and might, therefore, perhaps, with propriety, be included under that head. But as it has received special attention in the apocryphal works of Hermes Trismegistus, who is generally regarded as the Father of Alchemy, it is frequently mentioned as one of the old scientific problems. Readers of Scott's novel, "Kenilworth," may remember that Wayland Smith, in his account of his former master, Demetrius Doboobius, describes him as a profound chemist who had "made several efforts to fix mercury, and judged himself to have made a fair hit at the philosopher's stone." Hermes, or, rather, those who wrote over his name, speaks in the jargon of the adepts, about "catching the flying bird," by which is meant mercury, and "drowning it so that it may fly no more." The usual means for effecting this was amalgamation with gold, or some other metal or solution in some acid.
To the ancient chemists mercury must have been one of the most interesting of objects. Its great heaviness, its metallic brilliancy, and its wonderful mobility, must all have combined to render it a subject for deep thought and an attractive object for experiment and investigation.
Living in a warm climate, as they did, there was no means at their command by which its fluidity could be impaired. This subtle substance seemed to defy the usual attempts to grasp it; it rolled about like a solid sphere, but offered no resistance to the touch, and when pressed it split up into innumerable smaller globules so that the problem of "fixing" it must have had a strange fascination for the thoughtful alchemist, especially when he found that, on subjection to a comparatively moderate degree of heat, this heavy metal disappeared in vapor and left not a trace behind.
I have often wondered what the old alchemists would have said if they had seen fluid mercury immersed in a clear liquid and brought out in the form of a lump of solid, bright metal. For, although this is not in any sense a solution of the problem, yet it is a most curious sight and one which was rarely seen before the discovery of the liquefaction of the gases. To Geber, Basil Valentine, Van Helmont, Helvetius, and men of their day, living in their climate, this startling phenomenon would have seemed nothing short of a miracle.
In modern times the solidification of mercury had been frequently witnessed by these who dwelt in northern climates and by the skilful use of certain freezing mixtures made up of ordinary salts, it is not difficult to exhibit this metal in the solid state at any time. But it was not until the discovery of the liquefaction of carbonic acid, nitrous oxide, and other gases by Faraday, about 1823, that the freezing of mercury became a common lecture-room experiment.
In the year 1862 the writer delivered a course of lectures on chemistry, in the city of Rochester, N. Y., and during the progress of these lectures he reduced carbonic acid first to the liquid, and then to the solid state, in the form of a white snow. The temperature of this snow was about -80° Cent. (-176° Fahr.) and when it was mixed with ether and laid on a quantity of mercury, the latter was quickly frozen. In this way it was easy to make a hammer-head of frozen mercury and drive a nail with it.
Another very interesting experiment was the freezing of a slender triangular bar of mercury which might be twisted, bent, and tied in a knot. This was done by folding a long strip of very stiff paper so as to make an angular trough into which the mercury was poured. This trough was then carefully leveled and a mixture of solid carbonic acid and ether was placed over the metal in the usual way. In a few seconds the mercury was frozen quite solid so that it could be lifted out by means of two pairs of wooden forceps and bent and knotted at will. But the most striking part of the experiment was the melting of this bar of mercury by means of a piece of ice. The moment the ice touched the mercury, the latter melted and fell down in drops in the same way that a bar of lead or solder melts when it is touched with a red-hot iron.
The melted mercury was allowed to fall into a tall ale-glass of water, the temperature of which had been reduced as nearly as possible to the freezing point. When the mercury came in contact with the cold water, the latter began to freeze and by careful manipulation it was possible to freeze a tube of ice through the center of the column of water. The effect of this under proper illumination was very striking.
Owing to the fact that the specific heat or thermal capacity of mercury is only about one-thirtieth of that of water, it requires a considerable amount of melted mercury to produce the desired result.
But these processes do not enable us to fix mercury in the alchemical sense; the accomplishment of that still remains an unsolved problem, and it is more than likely that it will remain so.
VII
THE UNIVERSAL MEDICINE AND THE ELIXIR OF LIFE
ove of life is a characteristic of all animals, man included, and notwithstanding the fact that an occasional individual becomes so dissatisfied with his environment that he commits suicide, and also in the face of the poet's assertion that
"protracted life is but protracted woe"
most men and women are of the same way of thinking as Charmian, the attendant on Cleopatra, and "love long life better than figs." And the force of this general feeling is appealed to in the only one of the Mosaic commandments to which a promise is attached, the inducement for honoring father and mother being "that thy days may be long in the land that the Lord thy God giveth thee."
No wonder then that the old alchemists dreamed of a universal medicine that would not only prevent or cure sickness but that would renew the youth of the aged and the feeble, for in this, as in most other attempts at discovery, the wish was father to the thought. That the renewal of youth in the aged was supposed to be within the ability of the magicians and gods of old, we gather from the stories of Medea and Aeson and the ivory shoulder of Pelops, as referred to in Shakespeare, and explained in the "Shakespeare Cyclopedia."
Of the form of this supposed elixir we know very little for the language of the alchemists was so vague and mystical that it is often very difficult to ascertain their meaning with any approach to certainty. The following, which is a fair sample of their metaphorical modes of expressing themselves, is found in the works of Geber. In one of his writings, he exclaims: "Bring me the six lepers that I may cleanse them." Modern commentators explain this as being his mode of telling his readers that he would convert into gold the six inferior or, as they were called by the alchemists, the six imperfect metals. No wonder that Dr. Johnson adopted the idea that the word gibberish (anciently written geberish) owed its origin to an epithet applied to the language of Geber and his tribe.
Some have claimed that the elixir and the philosopher's stone were one and the same thing, and some of the writings of the old alchemists would seem to confirm this view. Thus, at the close of a formula for preparing the philosopher's stone, Carolus Musitanus gives the following admonition:
"Thus friend, you have a description of the universal medicine, not only for curing diseases and prolonging life, but also for transmuting all metals into gold. Give therefore thanks to Almighty God, who, taking pity on human calamities, has at last revealed this inestimable treasure, and made it known for the benefit of all."
And Brande tells us that "nearly all the alchemists attributed the power of prolonging life either to the philosopher's stone or to certain preparations of gold, imagining possibly that the permanence of that metal might be transferred to the human system. The celebrated Descartes is said to have supported such opinions; he told Sir Kenelm Digby that although he would not venture to promise immortality, he was certain that life might be lengthened to the period of that of the Patriarchs. His plan, however, seems to have been the very rational one of limiting all excess of diet and enjoining punctual and frugal meals."
It is an old saying that history repeats itself. About forty years ago certain medical practitioners strongly urged the use of salts of gold in the treatment of disease, and great hopes were entertained in regard to their efficacy. And the Keeley gold cure for drunkards is strongly in evidence, even at the present day.
On the other hand, some have held that the elixir was quite distinct from the stone by which metals might be transmuted into gold. In the second part of "King Henry IV," Falstaff (Act III, Scene 2, line 355), says of Shallow: "it shall go hard but I will make him a philosopher's two stones to me," and this saying of his has given considerable trouble to the commentators.
Warburton's explanation of this expression is, that "there was two stones, one of which was a universal medicine and the other a transmuter of base metals into gold." And in Churchyard's "Discourse and Commendation of those that can make Gold," we read of Remundus, who
Wrate sundry workes, as well doth yet appeare
Of stone for gold, and shewed plaine and cleare
A stone for health.
Johnson and some others have objected to this explanation, but it seems to be evident that Falstaff meant that he would get health and wealth from Shallow. He got the wealth to the extent of a thousand pounds.
The intense desire which exists in the human bosom for an elixir that will cure all diseases, and prolong life has made itself evident, even in recent times, and has called forth serious efforts on the part of men occupying prominent positions in the scientific world. Both in Europe and in this country suggestions have been made of fluids which, when injected into the veins of the old and the feeble, would renew youth and impart fresh strength. But alas! the results thus far attained have been anything but gratifying, and the probabilities against success in this direction are very strong.
The latest gleam of light comes from discoveries in connection with the radioactive elements, as the reader will find, on referring to Sir William Ramsay's utterance, which is given at the close of the article on the "Transmutation of the Metals," on a preceding page.