If chemical theories have undergone more rapid and frequent changes than those of other branches, the circumstance has arisen from the rapid manner in which new and important facts have been successively added to the general store.
Whatever may be the vices attributed to Chemistry on such occasions, they have belonged to the philosophers engaged in its pursuit, and are no evidence of the frailty of the science itself; and here it must be admitted, that there exists in one portion of mankind a self-love which cannot patiently submit to a change of opinions of which they are either the authors or defenders, while in another there predominates a timidity which naturally leads them, amidst the storm of controversy, to cling to the wreck of a shattered theory, rather than to trust themselves to a new and untried bark.
In our review of the history of Science, we have frequently to witness how the wisest philosopher has strained truth, for the support of a favourite doctrine, and measured and accommodated facts to theory, instead of adapting theories to facts—but this vice does not belong exclusively to chemical philosophers. Huygens, the celebrated Dutch Astronomer, from some imaginary property in the number six, having discovered one of Saturn's moons, absolutely declined looking for any more, merely because that one, when added to the four moons of Jupiter, and to the one belonging to the Earth, made up the required number.
Such reflections naturally arise on viewing, with a philosophic eye, the progress and modifications of chemical opinions; and it is essential that they should be duly appreciated upon the present occasion; for, before any just estimate can be formed of the talents and services of Sir Humphry Davy, we must thoroughly consider, in all their bearings and relations, the various prejudices with which he had to contend in his efforts to modify a gigantic theory, which enjoyed an unrestrained dominion in the chemical world, and for many years continued to be the pride of France and the admiration of Europe.
It would be quite foreign to the plan of this sketch,[132] which the reader must consider as wholly subservient to the object that has been announced, to enquire how far the ancients, in their metallurgical processes, can be said to have exercised the arts of chemistry. Equally vain would it be to enter into a history of that system of delusion and imposture, so long practised under the denomination of Alchymy. It is only necessary to consider Chemistry in its dignified and purely scientific form; and we have only to notice those commanding discoveries and opinions which led to the developement of that system, which the genius of Davy was destined to modify.
The origin of Chemistry, as a science, cannot be dated farther back than about the middle of the seventeenth century; and Beccher, the contemporary of Boyle, who was born at Spires in 1635, was unquestionably the first to construct any thing like a general theory. He formed the bold idea of explaining the whole system of the earth by the mutual agency and changes of a few elements. And by supposing the existence of a vitrifiable, a metallic, and an inflammable earth, he attempted to account for the various productions of rocks, crystalline bodies, and metallic veins, assuming a continual interchange of principles between the atmosphere, the ocean, and the solid surface of the globe, and considering the operations of nature as all capable of being imitated by art.
Albertus Magnus had advanced the opinion that the metals were earthy substances impregnated with a certain inflammable principle; but Beccher supported the idea of this principle not only as the cause of metallization, but likewise of combustibility. Stahl, however, one of the most extraordinary men that Germany ever produced, having adopted and amplified this theory, carried off the entire credit of being its founder, and it is universally spoken of as the Stahlian Theory.
This theory forms so important a feature in the history of chemistry, and so long maintained its ascendency in the schools, that it will be necessary to give the reader a short summary of its principles. It assumed that all combustible bodies are compounds: one of the constituents being volatile, and therefore easily dissipated during the act of combustion; while the other, being fixed, constantly remained as the residue of the process. This volatile principle, for which Stahl invented the term Phlogiston, was considered as being identical in every species of combustible matter; in short, it was supposed that there was but one principle of combustibility in nature, and that was the imaginary phantom Phlogiston, which for nearly a century possessed the schools of Europe, and, like an evil spirit, crossed the path of the philosopher at every step, and by its treacherous glare allured him from the steady pursuit of truth; for, whether a substance were combustible or not, its nature could never be investigated without a reference to its supposed relations with Phlogiston; its presence, or its absence, was supposed to stamp a character upon all bodies, and to occasion all the changes which they undergo. Hence chemistry and combustion came to be in some measure identified; and a theory of combustion was considered the same thing as a theory of chemistry.
The identity of Phlogiston in all combustible bodies was founded upon observations and experiments of so decisive a nature, that after the existence of the principle itself was admitted, they could not fail to be satisfactory. When phosphorus is made to burn, it gives out a strong flame, much heat is evolved, and the phosphorus is dissipated in fumes, which, if properly collected, will quickly absorb moisture from the atmosphere, and produce an acid liquid known by the name of phosphoric acid. Phosphorus then must consist, say the Stahlians, of Phlogiston and this acid. Again—If this liquid be evaporated to a dry substance, mixed with a quantity of charcoal powder, and then heated in a vessel from which the external air is excluded, a portion, or the whole of the charcoal will disappear, and phosphorus will be reproduced, possessing all the properties that it had before it was subjected to combustion. In this case, it was supposed that the charcoal restored the phlogiston. There was much plausibility in all this, as well as in the reasoning which followed. Since we may employ, with equal success, any kind of combustible body for the purpose of changing phosphoric acid into phosphorus, such as lamp-black, sugar, resin, or even several of the metals, it was concluded that all such bodies contain a common principle which they communicate to the phosphoric acid; and since the new body formed is in all cases identical, the principle communicated must also be identical. Hence combustible bodies contain an identical principle, and this principle is Phlogiston.
The same theory applied with equal force to the burning of sulphur and several of the metals, and to their reconversion by combustible bodies.