[2] p. 25.
[3] p. 97.
[4] Hist. des Min. p. 343.
It is not necessary to mark all the minute steps by which mineralogists were gradually led to see clearly the nature and laws of the fixity of crystalline forms. These forms were at first noticed in that substance which is peculiarly called rock-crystal or quartz; and afterwards in various stones and gems, in salts obtained from various solutions, and in snow. But those who observed the remarkable regular figures which these substances assume, were at first impelled onwards in their speculations by the natural tendency of the human mind to generalize and guess, rather than to examine and measure. They attempted to snatch at once the general laws of geometrical regularity of these occurrences, or to connect them with some doctrine concerning formative causes. Thus Kepler,[5] in his Harmonics of the World, asserts a “formatrix facultas, which has its seat in the entrails of the earth, and, after the manner of a pregnant woman, expresses the five regular geometrical solids in the forms of gems.” But Philosophers, in the course of time, came to build more upon observation, and less upon abstract reasonings. Nicolas Steno, a Dane, published, in 1669, a dissertation De Solido intra Solidum Naturaliter contento, in which he says,[6] that though the sides of the hexagonal crystal may vary, the angles are not changed. And Dominic Gulielmini, in a Dissertation on Salts, published in 1707, says,[7] in a true inductive spirit, “Nature does not employ all figures, but only certain ones of those which are possible; and of these, the determination is not to be fetched from the brain, or proved à priori, but obtained by experiments and observations.” And [318] he speaks[8] with entire decision on this subject: “Nevertheless since there is here a principle of crystallization, the inclination of the planes and of the angles is always constant.” He even anticipates, very nearly, the views of later crystallographers as to the mode in which crystals are formed from elementary molecules. From this time, many persons labored and speculated on this subject; as Cappeller, whose Prodromus Crystallographiæ appeared at Lucern in 1723; Bourguet, who published Lettres Philosophiques sur la Formation de Sels et de Cristaux, at Amsterdam, in 1792; and Henckel, the “Physicus” of the Elector of Saxony, whose Pyritologia came forth in 1725. In this last work we have an example of the description of the various forms of special classes of minerals, (iron pyrites, copper pyrites, and arsenic pyrites;) and an example of the enthusiasm which this apparently dry and laborious study can excite: “Neither tongue nor stone,” he exclaims,[9] “can express the satisfaction which I received on setting eyes upon this sinter covered with galena; and thus it constantly happens, that one must have more pleasure in what seems worthless rubbish, than in the purest and most precious ores, if we know aught of minerals.”
[5] Linz. 1619, p. 161.
[6] p. 69.
[7] p. 19.
[8] p. 83.
[9] p. 343.
Still, however, Henckel[10] disclaims the intention of arranging minerals according to their mathematical forms; and this, which may be considered as the first decided step in the formation of crystallographic mineralogy, appears to have been first attempted by Linnæus. In this attempt, however, he was by no means happy; nor does he himself appear to have been satisfied. He begins his preface by saying, “Lithology is not what I plume myself upon.” (Lithologia mihi cristas non eriget.) Though his sagacity, as a natural historian, led him to see that crystalline form was one of the most definite, and therefore most important, characters of minerals, he failed in profiting by this thought, because, in applying it, he did not employ the light of geometry, but was regulated by what appeared to him resemblances, arbitrarily selected, and often delusive.[11] Thus he derived the form of pyrites from that of vitriol;[12] and brought together alum and diamond on account of their common octohedral form. But he had the great merit of animating to this study one to whom, more perhaps than to any other person, it owes its subsequent progress; I mean Romé de Lisle. “Instructed,” this writer says, in his preface to his Essais de Crystallographie, “by the works of the celebrated Von Linnée, how [319] greatly the study of the angular form of crystals might become interesting, and fitted to extend the sphere of our mineralogical knowledge, I have followed them in all their metamorphoses with the most scrupulous attention.” The views of Linnæus, as to the importance of this character, had indeed been adopted by several others; as John Hill, the King’s gardener at Kew, who, in 1777, published his Spathogenesia; and Grignon, who, in 1775, says, “These crystallizations may give the means of finding a new theory of the generation of crystalline gems.”