(331.) The great difficulty which has been experienced in attempts to classify mineral substances by their chemical constituents has arisen from the observed presence, in some specimens of minerals bearing that general resemblance in other respects as well as agreement in form which would seem to entitle them to be considered as alike, of ingredients foreign to the usual composition of the species, and that occasionally in so large a proportion as to render it unjustifiable to refer their occurrence to accidental impurities. These cases, as well as some anomalies observed in the classification of minerals by their crystalline forms, which seemed to show that the same substance might occasionally appear under two distinct forms, as well as some remarkable coincidences between the forms of substances quite distinct from each other in a chemical point of view, have within a recent period given rise to a branch of the science of crystallography of a very curious and important nature. The isomorphism of certain groups of chemical elements has already afforded us an example illustrative of the manner in which inductions sometimes receive unexpected verifications (see [180].). The laws and relations thus brought to light are among the most curious and interesting parts of modern science, and seem likely in their further developement to afford ample scope for the exercise of chemical and mineralogical research. They have already afforded innumerable fine examples of that important step in science by which anomalies disappear, and occasional incongruities become reconciled under more general expressions of physical laws, and thus unite in affording support to those very views which they promised, when first observed, to overset. Nothing, indeed, can be more striking than to see the very ingredient which every previous chemist and mineralogist would agree to disregard and reject as a mere casual impurity brought forward and appealed to in support of a theory expressly directed to the object of rescuing science from the imputation of disregarding, under any circumstances, the plain results of direct experiment.
Chemistry.
(332.) The laws which concern the intimate constitution of bodies, not as respects their structure or the manner in which their parts are put together, but as regards their materials or the ingredients of which those parts are composed, form the objects of chemistry. A solid body may be regarded as a fabric, more or less regularly and artificially constructed, in which the materials and the workmanship may be separately considered, and in which, though the latter be ruined and confounded by violence, the former remain unchanged in their nature, though differently arranged. In liquid or aërial bodies, too, though there prevails a less degree of difference in point of structure, and a greater facility of dispersion and dissipation, than in solids, yet an equal diversity of materials subsists, giving to them properties differing extremely from each other.
(333.) The inherent activity of matter is proved not only by the production of motion by the mutual attractions and repulsions of distant or contiguous masses, but by the changes and apparent transformations which different substances undergo in their sensible qualities by mere mixture. If water be added to water, or salt to salt, the effect is an increase of quantity, but no change of quality. In this case, the mutual action of the particles is entirely mechanical. Again, if a blue powder and a yellow one, each perfectly dry, be mixed and well shaken together, a green powder will be produced; but this is a mere effect arising in the eye from the intimate mixture of the yellow and blue light separately and independently reflected from the minute particles of each; and the proof is had by examining the mixture with a microscope, when the yellow and blue grains will be seen separate and each quite unaltered. If the same experiment be tried with coloured liquids, which are susceptible of mixing without chemical action, a compound colour is likewise produced, but no examination with magnifiers is in that case sufficient to detect the ingredients; the reason obviously being, the excessive minuteness of the parts, and their perfect intermixture, produced by agitating two liquids together. From the mixture of two powders, extreme patience would enable any one, by picking out with a magnifier grain after grain, to separate the ingredients. But when liquids are mixed, no mechanical separation is any longer practicable; the particles are so minute as to elude all search. Yet this does not hinder us from regarding such a compound as still a mere mixture, and its properties are accordingly intermediate between those of the liquids mixed. But this is far from being the case with all liquids. When a solution of potash, for example, and another of tartaric acid, each perfectly liquid, are mixed together in proper proportions, a great quantity of a solid saline substance falls to the bottom of the containing vessel, which is quite different from either potash or tartaric acid, and the liquid from which it subsided offers no indications by its taste or other sensible qualities of the ingredients mixed, but of something totally different from either. It is evident that this is a phenomenon widely different from that of mere mixture; there has taken place a great and radical change in the intimate nature of the ingredients, by which a new substance is produced which had no existence before. And it has been produced by the union of the ingredients presented to each other; for when examined it is found that nothing has been lost, the weight of the whole mixture being the sum of the weights mixed. Yet the potash and tartaric acid have disappeared entirely, and the weight of the new product is found to be exactly equal to that of the tartaric acid and potash employed, taken together, abating a small portion held in solution in the liquid, which may be obtained however by evaporation. They have therefore combined, and adhere to one another with a cohesive force sufficient to form a solid out of a liquid; a force which has thus been called into action by merely presenting them to each other in a state of solution.
(334.) It is the business of chemistry to investigate these and similar changes, or the reverse of such changes, where a single substance is resolved into two or more others, having different properties from it, and from each other, and to enquire into all the circumstances which can influence them; and either determine, modify, or suspend their accomplishment, whether such influence be exercised by heat or cold, by time and rest, or by agitation or pressure, or by any of those agents of which we have acquired a knowledge, such as electricity, light, magnetism, &c.
(335.) The wonderful and sudden transformations with which chemistry is conversant, the violent activity often assumed by substances usually considered the most inert and sluggish, and, above all, the insight it gives into the nature of innumerable operations which we see daily carried on around us, have contributed to render it the most popular, as it is one of the most extensively useful, of the sciences; and we shall, accordingly, find none which have sprung forward, during the last century, with such extraordinary vigour, and have had such extensive influence in promoting corresponding progress in others. One of the chief causes of its popularity is, perhaps, to be sought for in this, that it is, of all the sciences, perhaps, the most completely an experimental one; and even its theories are, for the most part, of that generally intelligible and readily applicable kind, which demand no intense concentration of thought, and lead to no profound mathematical researches. The simple process of inductive generalization, grounded on the examination of numerous facts, all of them presenting considerable intrinsic interest, has sufficed, in most instances, to lead, by a clear and direct road, to its highest laws yet known. But, on the other hand, these laws, when stated, are not yet fully sufficient to lead us, except in very limited cases, to a deductive knowledge of particulars never before examined, at least, not without great caution, and constant appeal to experiment as a check on our reasoning; so that we are justified in regarding the axioms of chemistry, the true handles of deductive reasoning, as still unknown, and, perhaps, likely long to remain so. This is no fault of its cultivators, who have comprised in their list the highest and most varied talents and industry, but of the inherent complexity of the subject, and the infinite multitude of causes which are concerned in the production of every, even the simplest, chemical phenomenon.
(336.) The history of chemistry (on which, however, we are not about to enlarge,) is one of great interest to those who delight to trace the steps by which mankind advance to the discovery of truth through a series of mistakes and failures. It may be divided, 1st, into the period of the alchemists, a lamentable epoch in the annals of intellectual wandering; 2dly, that of the phlogistic doctrines of Beccher and Stahl, in which, as if to prove the perversity of the human mind, of two possible roads the wrong was chosen; and a theory obtained universal credence on the strength of an induction, valid as such, but wrongly interpreted, which is negatived, in every instance, by an appeal to the balance. This, too, happened, not by reason of unlucky coincidences, or individual oversights, but of necessity, and from an inherent defect of the theory itself, which thus impeded the progress of the science, as far as a science of experiment can be impeded by a false theory, by perplexing its cultivators with the appearance of contradictions in their experiments where none really subsisted, by destroying all their confidence in the numerical exactness of their own results, and by involving the subject in a mist of visionary and hypothetical causes in place of the true acting principles. Thus, in the combustion of any substance which is incapable of flying away in fumes, an increase of weight takes place,—the ashes are heavier than the fuel. Whenever this was observed, however, it was passed carelessly over as arising from the escape of phlogiston, or the principle of inflammability, which was considered as being either the element of fire itself, or in some way combined with it, and thus essentially light. It is now known that the increase of weight is owing to the absorption of, and combination with, a quantity of a peculiar ingredient called oxygen, from the air, a principle essentially heavy. So far as weight is concerned, it makes no difference whether a body having weight enters, or one having levity escapes; but there is this plain difference in a philosophical point of view, that oxygen is a real producible substance, and phlogiston is no such thing: the former is a vera causa, the latter an hypothetical being, introduced to account for what the other accounts for much better.
(337.) The third age of chemistry—that which may be called emphatically modern chemistry—commenced (in 1786) when Lavoisier, by a series of memorable experiments, extinguished for ever this error, and placed chemistry in the rank of one of the exact sciences,—a science of number, weight, and measure. From that epoch to the present day it has constantly advanced with an accelerated progress, and at this moment may be regarded as more progressive than ever. The principal features in this progress may be comprised under the following general heads:—
1. The discovery of the proximate, if not the ultimate, elements of all bodies, and the enlargement of the list of known elements to its present extent of between fifty and sixty substances.
2. The developement of the doctrine of latent heat by Black, with its train of important consequences, including the scientific theory of the steam-engine.
3. The establishment of Wenzel’s law of definite proportions on his own experiments, and those of Richter, a discovery subsequently merged in the more general wording and better development of Dalton’s atomic theory.
4. The precise determination of the atomic weights of the different chemical elements, mainly due to the astonishing industry of Berzelius, and his unrivalled command of chemical resources, as well as to the researches of the other chemists of the Swedish and German school.
5. The assimilation of gases and vapours, by which we are led to regard the former, universally, as particular cases of the latter, a generalization resulting chiefly from the experiments of Faraday on the condensation of the gases, and those of Gay-Lussac and Dalton, on the laws of their expansion by heat compared with that of vapours.
6. The establishment of the laws of the combination of gases and vapours by definite volumes, by Gay-Lussac.
7. The discovery of the chemical effects of electricity, and the decomposing agency of the Voltaic pile, by Nicholson and Carlisle; the investigation of the laws of such decompositions, by Berzelius and Hisinger: the decomposition of the alkalies by Davy, and the consequent introduction into chemistry of new and powerful agents in their metallic bases.
8. The application of chemical analysis to all the objects of organized and unorganized nature, and the discovery of the ultimate constituents of all, and the proximate ones of organic matter, and the recognisance of the important distinctions which appear to divide these great classes of bodies from each other.
9. The applications of chemistry to innumerable processes in the arts, and among other useful purposes to the discovery of the essential medical principles in vegetables, and to important medicaments in the mineral kingdom.
10. The establishment of the intimate connection between chemical composition and crystalline form, by Haüy and Vauquelin, with the successive rectifications the statement of that connection has undergone in the hands of Mitscherlich, Rose, and others, with the progress of chemical and crystallographical knowledge.
(338.) To pursue these several heads into detail would lead us into a treatise on chemistry; but a few remarks on one or two of them, as they bear upon the general principles of all scientific enquiry, will not be irrelevant. And first, then, with reference to the discovery of new elements, it will be observed, that philosophical chemistry no more aims at determining the one essential element out of which all matter is framed—the one ultimate principle of the universe—than astronomy at discovering the origin of the planetary movements in the application of a determinate projectile force in a determinate direction, or geology at ascending to the creation of the earth. There may be such an element. Some singular relations which have been pointed out in the atomic weights of bodies seem to suggest to minds fond of speculation that there is; but philosophical chemistry is content to wait for some striking fact, which may either occur unexpectedly or be led to by the slow progress of enlarged views, to disclose to us its existence. Still, the multiplication of so-considered elementary bodies has been considered by some as an inconvenience. We confess we do not coincide with this view. Whatever they be, the obstinacy with which they resist decomposition shows that they are ingredients of a very high and primary importance in the economy of nature; and such as, in any state of science, it would be indispensably necessary to be perfectly familiar with. Like particular theorems in geometry, which, though not rising to the highest point of generality, have yet their several scopes and ranges of extensive application, they must be well and perfectly understood in all their bearings. Should we ever arrive at an analysis of these bodies, the chemical properties of the new elements which will then come into view will be known only by our knowledge of these, or of other compounds of the same class, which they may be capable of forming. Not but that such an analysis would be a most important and indeed triumphant achievement, and change the face of chemistry; but it would undo nothing that has been done, and render useless no point of knowledge which we have yet arrived at.