CONCLUSION.
During the prosecution of his later experiments Humphry had formed
the acquaintance of Mr. Davies Giddy, a gentleman of high scientific
attainments, better known under the name of Davies Gilbert, and who was
then resident at Tredrea, near Penzance.
This gentleman, who ultimately became President of the Royal Society,
proved of great service to young Davy, for not only did he lend the boy
such apparatus as he required for the carrying out of his experiments,
but he delighted to converse with Humphry; and though he could not help
smiling occasionally at the strangeness of his theories, he grew to
have a lively sense of the ardour of the youth’s imagination, and the
originality of his mind.
Now it so happened that Davies Giddy was acquainted with Dr. Beddoes,
who had formerly been one of the Oxford Professors, but who had recently
opened a Pneumatic Institution at Bristol for the cure of diseases by
the inhalation of gases; and it was during one of Dr. Beddoes’ visits to
Davies Giddy that Humphry made the acquaintance of the Doctor, and so
favourable an impression did he make upon the gentleman, that not long
afterwards a letter was sent, offering Humphry the post of Assistant to
the Bristol Institution.
The lad was delighted at the prospect of removing from so remote a place
as his native town, and lost no time in talking the matter over with
his friends. Mr. Giddy told him of the Doctor’s influence, and how his
Institution was already the resort of some of the most eminent persons in
the country, and warmly advised him to avail himself of the offer.
Mr. Borlase, to whom Humphry repeated all that Mr. Giddy had said,
counselled the boy to take the same step, and added, that he had been so
pleased with his conduct while under his roof that he would in no way
impede his advancement, but would rather cancel his indentures, even
though he was just beginning to be of service to him.
Mrs. Davy, too, was anxious that her boy—whom she felt more and more
convinced was destined to take a high rank in the world—should be
transferred to a wider sphere, where his abilities would have greater
chance of being called into play, and she gladly accompanied Humphry to
their old friend, Mr. Tonkin, to break the matter to him, and hear what
he thought of the proposal.
The old gentleman, however, could not be made to listen to the project,
and did not hesitate to denounce Humphry’s desire for worldly honour as
the “wild-goose chase” which led many an ambitious simpleton astray,
saying, that if the boy would make up his mind to settle in his native
place, he might be assured of a comfortable independence, for he would
find but few able to compete with him there. Nevertheless, in a large
town—however striking his talents might appear in a small one—the circle
of his competitors would be so much increased, that he would sink into a
mere nobody, and end his days as one of the many fools who had struggled
after the world’s prizes, and found, when too late, that there was no
chance of obtaining them.
Mrs. Davy, however, mother-like, felt satisfied that Mr. Tonkin took an
erroneous view of her son’s powers, and she strove to assure her old
friend that he did not know what Humphry was capable of doing so well as
she did, and that if he did, he would have as little fear as herself of
his failure.
Mr. Tonkin, however, was not to be argued out of the notion he had taken
up, and ultimately grew so annoyed with what he fancied to be merely a
mother’s silly prejudice on Mrs. Davy’s part, that he ended the interview
by vowing that the boy should never quit Penzance with _his_ consent.
This, for a time, put a stop to the correspondence on the subject. At
length, however, Dr. Beddoes became so urgent that Humphry should join
him, that, despite the objections of Mr. Tonkin, who still would not
listen to the plan, his friends advised him to accept the offer; and it
was accordingly arranged that young Davy should leave Penzance as soon as
he conveniently could.
Accordingly, on the 2d of October, in the year 1798, Humphry, not then
twenty years of age, quitted his native town for the first time in his
life, and that to commence fighting his way in the world.
His mother parted from him as full of high hope as the boy himself; and
as the boy hugged the widow to his heart alone in her chamber, before
he left her, he said, with the sobs in his throat, “Mr. Tonkin does not
know me, mother, yet: but be you of good cheer, I will live to be an
honour and a glory to you still; and it shall be my proud lot to say some
day that I was the means of raising you and all that belong to me to a
position of comfort and eminence. Years ago now, mother, I told you I
_would_ do it, and the resolve is still _deep_ in my heart.”
Mrs. Davy assured him she had every confidence in his attaining the noble
object he had in view, and she parted from him, though with tears in her
eyes, with a smile of high hope upon her lip.
Mr. Tonkin, however, was resolute to the last, and at his leave-taking
denounced Humphry’s plans as visionary schemes; and when the boy had
left, and the old gentleman found his favourite plan of settling Humphry
in his native town as a surgeon had been thwarted, he altered his will,
and revoked the legacy of the house that he had previously bequeathed to
his foster-son.
On young Humphry’s journey to Bath he met his friend Mr. Davies Giddy at
Oakhampton, and while breakfasting there, the mail-coach from London drew
up at the door of the inn, covered with laurels and ribbons, and bringing
the first news of Nelson’s victory of the Nile.
“I have a greater fight than that to fight,” said Humphry to himself;
“and, please God, I will gain the victory, too.”
* * * * *
It was Mrs. Davy’s happy lot to witness the realisation of all the hopes
she had formed of her boy in his youth; for, during her life, he rose to
be elected President of the Royal Society, and to be created a Baronet,
for the many additions he had made to the stock of knowledge; to be
rewarded with the first prize instituted by the Emperor Napoleon for
the greatest scientific discovery of the time; and to be allowed a free
passage through France at a time when all other Englishmen, no matter how
high their rank or character, were denied admission into that country.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Extracted from Dr. Paris’s “Life of Davy.”
[2] Mr. Tonkin (says Dr. John Davy, in his Memoirs of the Life of his
brother) “will long be remembered in Penzance, both for excellences and
peculiarities. The latter marked him as a person of the gone-by time, and
attracted the notice even of the careless observer. He held in aversion
modern changes of fashion, and in his old age wore the dress of his
youth—the cocked hat, large powdered wig, hand-ruffles, upright collar;
in brief, the professional dress of the beginning of the last century—and
his manly form and countenance suited well with this venerable costume.”
Dr. Davy says, moreover, that Mr. Tonkin “held a distinguished place
among his fellow-townsmen, being looked up to for his sterling worth and
strength of judgment, and very dear to his friends for his benevolence,
kindness, and very generous and friendly disposition.” He was “of a quick
temper,” he adds, “but his anger was of short duration.”—See _Life of Sir
Humphry Davy_, vol. i. p. 109.
Sir Humphry himself, in his last letter to Mr. Tonkin, says, “If I was
nearer I would endeavour to be useful to you. I would endeavour to pay
some of the debts of gratitude I owe to you, _my first protector and
earliest friend_. As it is, I must look forward to a futurity that will
enable me to do this; but believe me, wherever I am, and whatever may be
my situation, I shall never lose the remembrance of obligations conferred
on me, or the sense of gratitude which ought to accompany them.”
[3] “When Mrs. Davy became a widow, she was in her thirty-fourth year,
with five children, all of whom were still to be educated, excepting
Humphry, her eldest son. Her income at this time was about £150 a year,
and it was encumbered with a debt of £1300.”—_Dr. Davy’s Life of Sir
Humphry_, vol. i. p. 7.
[4] “Mrs. Davy was the third and youngest daughter of Grace and Humphry
Millett.... Mr. Millett was engaged in business in the town of Penzance
as a mercer. He and his wife died young, _and in the same week_—he on
the 3d of June, 1757, and she on the 9th.... Mr. John Tonkin was their
friend, and supplied the place of a father to them (the orphan children),
and they retained through life a most grateful sense of his kindness,
and of the great obligations they owed to him. At the time of the death
of Mr. and Mrs. Millett, he (Mr. Tonkin) was residing in their house (I
suppose in lodgings), and there he continued to reside for some years,
the children being under the care of a Miss Peggy Adams, their cousin, in
whose name the mercer’s business was continued, by the profits of which
the family was chiefly supported.”—_Dr. John Davy_, p. 7, vol. i.
Dr. Paris, in his life of Sir Humphry Davy (p. 2), says, speaking of the
philosopher’s mother, “Her maiden name was Grace Millett, and she was
remarkable for the placidity of her temper and the amiable and benevolent
tendency of her disposition. She had been adopted and brought up with
her two sisters, under circumstances of affecting interest, by Mr. John
Tonkin.... To withhold a narrative of the circumstances which led Mr.
Tonkin to the adoption of these orphan children would be to deprive
the world of one of those bright examples of pure and disinterested
benevolence which cheer the heart and ornament our nature.... The
parents of these children having been attacked by a fatal fever expired
within a few hours of each other. The dying agonies of the surviving
mother were sharpened by her reflecting on the forlorn condition in
which her children would be left. For, although the Milletts were
originally aristocratic and wealthy, the property had undergone so many
sub-divisions as to have left but a very slender provision for the member
of the family to whom she had united herself.” On the decease of Mrs.
Millett (Dr. Paris tells us), Mr. Tonkin immediately took charge of her
three orphan daughters, and “continued their kind benefactor until each
in succession found a home by marriage.”
[5] “The state of society in the Mount’s Bay only half a century
ago,” says Dr. John Davy, “was peculiar and different from what it is
at present. Cornwall was then without great roads. The roads which
traversed the country were bridle-paths rather than carriage roads.
Carriages were almost unknown, and carts even very little used. I have
heard my mother relate that when she was a girl there was only one cart
in the town of Penzance, and if a carriage appeared in the streets it
attracted universal attention. Pack-horses were then in general use
for conveying merchandise, and the prevailing manner of travelling was
on horseback. In the same town, where the population was about 2000
persons, there was only one carpet; the floors of rooms were sprinkled
with sea sand, and there was not a silver fork. The only newspaper which
then circulated in the West of England was the ‘Sherborne Mercury,’ and
it was carried through the country, not by the post, but by a man on
horseback, specially employed in distributing it.... Visiting was then
conducted differently from what it is at present. Dinner-parties were
almost unknown, excepting at the annual feast time. Christmas, too, was
then a season of peculiar indulgence and conviviality, and a round of
entertainments were given, consisting of tea and supper. Excepting at
these two periods, visiting was almost entirely confined to tea-parties,
which assembled at three o’clock and broke up at nine, and the amusement
of the evening was commonly some round game at cards, as Pope Joan or
Commerce.... Amongst the middle and higher classes there was little
taste for literature, still less for science, and their pursuits were
rarely of a dignified or intellectual kind. Hunting, shooting, wrestling,
cock-fighting, generally ending in drunkenness, were what they most
delighted in. Smuggling was carried on to a great extent, and drunkenness
and a low scale of morals were naturally associated with it.... Few
places have exhibited greater changes within the last half century than
Penzance. Not a single family belonging to the great gentry now in
existence west of Hayle, or in the Mount’s Bay, was known one hundred
years ago.”
“Carriages, it may be added, are of French invention. Under Francis I.
(A.D. 1515-1547), who was contemporary with our Henry VIII., there were
but two in Paris, one of which belonged to the Queen, and the other to
Diana, the natural daughter of the French Henry II. There were but three
in Paris in 1550; Henry IV. of France (A.D. 1589-1610) had one, but of
very rude construction, and without straps or springs. The first courtier
who set up this equipage in France was John de Laval de Bois-Dauphin, who
could not travel otherwise on account of his enormous bulk. Previously
to the use of carriages the kings of France travelled on horseback, the
princesses were carried in litters, and ladies rode behind their squires.
The first carriage seen in England was in the reign of Mary, about 1553;
but the art of making them was unknown in this country at that time.
Close carriages of good workmanship began to be used by persons of the
highest quality at the close of the sixteenth century; Fitz-Allen earl
of Arundel is said to have been the first who used them, and this was in
1580; their construction was various. They were first made in England
about the year 1590, when they were called ‘whirlicotes.’ In the year
1601, an Act was passed to prevent the effeminacy of men riding in
carriages (43d Elizabeth). The Duke of Buckingham, in 1619, was the first
who had a carriage with six horses to it; and the Duke of Northumberland,
on obtaining his liberation from the Tower (where he had been imprisoned
since the Gunpowder Plot) and hearing that Buckingham was drawn about
with six horses to his carriage, ordered, out of rivalry, eight horses
to be put to his, and in that manner passed from the Tower through the
City.”—_Haydn’s Dictionary._
“In the twelfth century carpets were articles of luxury. It is mentioned
by old English historians, as an instance of Becket’s splendid style of
living, that his sumptuous apartments were, every day in winter, strewn
with clean straw or hay. This was about the year 1160. The manufacture
of woollen carpets was introduced into France from Persia at the end of
the sixteenth or beginning of the seventeenth century. Some artisans, who
had quitted France in disgust, came over to England and established the
carpet manufacture among us about 1750. Our Kidderminster, Axminster, and
Wilton manufactures are the growth of the last hundred years.”—_Ibid._
[6] “Davy, it may be remarked, possessed, when a boy, a countenance
which, in its natural state, was very far from comely; while his round
shoulders, inharmonious voice, and insignificant manner, were calculated
to produce anything rather than a favourable impression. In riper years
he was what might be called ‘good-looking;’ although, as a wit of the
day observed, his aspect certainly was of the ‘bucolic’ character.”—_Dr.
Paris’ Life of Sir Humphry Davy_, p. 33. The Doctor afterwards describes
young Davy as an “extraordinary-looking boy.” “His manners were
retreating and modest,” says Mr. Poole (one of Davy’s oldest friends),
in a letter to Dr. Paris, speaking of Sir Humphry in early life; “he was
generally thought naturally graceful, and the upper part of his face
was beautiful. When he first lectured at the Royal Institution, the
ladies said, ‘Those eyes were made for something besides poring over
crucibles.’”—_Dr. John Davy’s Life of his Brother_, vol. i. p. 136. “I
was very young,” Lady Brownrigg says, in a letter to Dr. Davy, “when
I first had the pleasure of seeing your highly-gifted brother. We had
been invited by Dr. Richardson to go to his cottage at Portrush, to meet
the famous Mr. Davy. We arrived a short time before dinner; in passing
through a room we saw a youth, as he appeared,” (Davy was twenty-eight
years of age at this time) “who had come in from fishing, and who, with
a little note-book, was seated in a window-seat, having left a bag, rod,
&c. on the ground. He was very intent on this little book, and we passed
through unnoticed. When I went into the drawing-room I felt some little
awe at this great philosopher, annexing to such a character, at least,
the idea of an elderly grave gentleman—not, perhaps, with so large a wig
as Dr. Parr, or so sententious a manner as Dr. Johnson—but certainly
I never calculated on being introduced to the identical youth, with a
little brown head like a boy, that we had seen with his book at the
window-seat, and who when I came into the drawing-room was, in the most
animated manner, recounting an adventure which had entertained him on the
Causeway, and, from his mode of telling it, was causing loud laughing
in the whole room.”—Given in the _Life of Sir Humphry, by Dr. John
Davy_, who speaks of the above account as being “very descriptive of the
appearance and manner” of his brother “at this time.”
[7] These are called the “Long Ships’ Rocks,” and on one of them is
a “light.” British ships passing this pay one halfpenny a ton, and
foreigners one shilling each vessel; the annual revenue thus obtained
amounting to three thousand pounds.
[8] The Scilly Isles.
[9] Known by the name of “_Enys Dodnan_.”
[10] This is called in Cornish “_Tol-Pedn-Penwith_,” which signifies the
holed headland on the left hand.
[11] Davy is said to have delighted as a boy in visiting the Land’s End.
In one of his early poems occurs the following passage, in which the spot
is spoken of under its Latin name, “_Bolerium_:”
“Thy awful height, Bolerium, is not loved
By busy man; and no one wanders there
Save he who follows Nature—he who seeks
Amidst thy crags and storm-beat rocks to find
The marks of changes, teaching the great laws
That raised the globe from chaos; or he whose soul
Is warm with fire poetic.”
“It is surely not difficult,” says Dr. Paris, “to understand how it
happened that a mind endowed with the genius and sensibility of Davy
should have been directed to the study of chemistry and mineralogy, when
we consider the nature and scenery of the country in which accident
had placed him.... Nor could he have wandered along the rocky coast,
nor have reposed for a moment to contemplate its wild scenery, without
being invited to geological inquiry.... ‘How often, when a boy,’ said
Davy to me (adds the Doctor), on my showing him a drawing of the wild
rock scenery of Botallack Mine, ‘have I wandered about those rocks in
search of new minerals, and, when fatigued, sat down upon the turf, and
exercised my fancy in anticipation of scientific renown.’” (Botallack
Mine is situate at St. Just, a town near to Cape Cornwall, and but a
short distance from the Land’s End.) “The granite and serpentine rocks
of his native county were, I believe,” says Dr. John Davy, “the first
he studied when he commenced the pursuit of geology, and both of them
were to him particularly attractive. The finest examples of these rocks
were within a day’s ride of Penzance; and when he visited home, a young
man, he never failed paying the Lizard and the Land’s End a visit, and
generally in company with some of his old school-fellows. I remember,
when a boy,” Dr. D. continues, “being allowed to join one of these
parties to the Land’s End, and it was a merry one—as youthful parties
commonly are. After exploring the cliff scenery, we dined at a tavern
at St. Just, and I well recollect the boisterous mirth indulged in when
the repast was concluded—the gymnastic feats attempted, the shouts
of applause, the unconstrained laughter, and all that abandonment of
spirit to mirth so common to young persons under excitement, and which,
excepting in youth, can scarcely be felt or enjoyed.”—_Life of Sir
Humphry Davy._
In the commencement of a work designed by Sir Humphry Davy upon “The
Geology of Cornwall,” the philosopher himself gives the following
description of the rocks at the Land’s End: “In the great arrangement
of the masses of granite of Cornwall, the rock appears composed of an
immense number of blocks of different sizes. This structure is nowhere
more perfectly exhibited than in the western cliffs. The incessant agency
of the Atlantic, its storms and its waves, have washed away or destroyed
all the loose materials of the shore, and left abrupt eminences of
rock from 50 to 360 feet in height. The arrangement of the granite is
in masses which approach to the cubical form, having, however, rounded
edges, heaped upon each other.... The masses are grand, their colours
uniform, and their uniformity increases the effect upon the eye; while
the arrangements of this kind have a peculiar wildness and sublimity.
Nowhere is it seen upon a greater scale, or in a more magnificent
assemblage of forms, than from a point between the Land’s End and Castle
Treene. Both these grand promontories appear extending into the Atlantic;
the cliffs between them are abrupt and lofty; the waves are broken by
a number of small island rocks, which are scattered along the shore.
The few portions of soil that appear above the cliff are covered with
short green grass, tufted with heath and furze, which, in the autumn,
present mixed hues of purple and gold. The rock throughout is of a
uniform yellowish red, the tint perfectly contrasted to the blue-greens
of the sea.” (Castle Treene, or “Castle Treryn,” as it is more correctly
written, is a headland beyond “St. Levan churchtown,” as it is sometimes
called—though the chapel which formerly stood there has been many years
since washed away by the sea, the steps alone now remaining.) St.
Levan lies a little to the eastward of the headland called “_Tol Pedn
Penwith_.” A short distance from St. Levan is “Port Carnow Cove,” which
is bounded on the eastern side by rocks that jut far into the waves,
and rise to a great height, being heaped one on another, in magnificent
order. Here stands the noble headland called “Castle Treryn,” above whose
summit two huge slanting and imposing masses of granite protrude. There
is a fissure between these masses leading to a smaller group of granite
rocks, on the top of which the huge Logan stone (weighing some 65 tons)
stands so delicately poised, that by clambering to a fearful height at
one of the angles, it may be made to sway to and fro with the least force.
[12] Dr. John Davy says, “The greater part of the year following” (the
period of his quitting Dr. Cardew’s school at Truro, which Humphry did at
the age of fifteen, when his school education was considered as complete)
“he was, I believe, in an unsettled state, studying in a desultory
manner, by fits and starts, and yielding to the allurements of occasional
dissipation, and the amusements which constitute the delight of active
youth—as fishing, shooting, swimming, and solitary rambles. _This was
perhaps the most dangerous period of his life, and in conversation with
me he has so spoken of it._ Amusement threatened for a time to obtain
the mastery, and keep him down to the common level; but his good genius
triumphed, and, after a few months’ vacillation, he applied himself
in earnest to the cultivation of his mind and to the acquisition of
knowledge; and the flame once kindled burnt on till it expired in death.”
Speaking of the circumstances which induced Humphry to relinquish all his
boyish habits about the period of his father’s death, his brother says:
“_This event, probably, had a powerful effect in giving steadfastness
to his resolution, and I am quite certain that the circumstances of his
family became with him an additional and powerful motive to exertion._”
“Like most young persons, Humphry when a boy,” says Dr. John Davy, “was
fond of declaiming, and indulged in it in his solitary walks and rambles.
On one occasion it is recorded of him, that, on his way to visit a poor
patient in the country” (during his apprenticeship), “in the fervour of
declamation, he threw out of his hand a phial of medicine which he had to
administer, and that when he arrived at the bed-side of the poor woman he
was surprised at the loss of it. The potion was found the next day in a
hay-field adjoining the path” (p. 55).
[13] The greater number of these resolves were fulfilled in after-life.
Dr. John Davy says: “The interest he took in me more resembled that of
a father than a brother, and it is with peculiar pleasure I reflect
on his various kindnesses—my numerous obligations, many of which were
delicately concealed at the time—his valuable hints and generous regard
to my studies, leaving me free to follow the bias of my own mind—and his
excellent advice in respect to my conduct, in which was always infused a
native nobleness of sentiment well adapted to stir up virtue in a young
mind.” In one of his letters to his brother, Sir Humphry says, “You must
study your own plans with respect to study. Pray do not care about the
expense, if it adds anything to the comfort or respectability of your
situation. I will, if you like, send £40 a year, in addition to what my
mother sends you. My dear John, let no difficulties alarm you; you may be
what you please. Let no example induce you to violate decorum—no ridicule
prevent you from guarding against sensuality or vice. Live in such a way
that you can always say the whole world may know what I am doing.”
Dr. Paris says: “No sooner had Davy found himself in a situation which
secured for him the necessaries of life, _than he renounced all claims
upon his paternal property in favour of his mother and sisters_.” In a
letter to one of his sisters, Davy says: “I enclose a one-pound note,
which you will lay out in books or in anything else you like. I enclose
another one-pound note, which I wish to have disposed of in the following
manner: To Mary Launder, 5_s._; to Betty White, 5_s._; and with the rest
you will buy some ribbons or little articles of dress for the Doctor’s
Jenny, my aunt Sampson’s Phillis, my aunt Millett’s maid, and my mother’s
servant, as New-years’s gifts.” In another letter he writes thus: “I
enclose a ten-pound note, which I beg you will lay out in the way you
think best for my sister’s children and any _old pensioners_ that knew
me in my youth.” “No Swiss peasant,” says Dr. Paris, “ever sighed more
deeply for his native mountains than did Davy for the scenes of his
early years. He entreated his nurse (when ill at the Royal Institution)
to convey to his friends his ardent wish to obtain some apples from a
particular tree which he had planted when a boy, and he remained in a
state of restlessness and impatience until their arrival.” Moreover, it
should be stated, that, in addition to his will, he left at his death a
paper of directions, which have been religiously observed by his widow.
In these he desires that the interest arising from £100 stock may be
annually paid to the master of the Penzance Grammar-school, on _condition
that the boys may have a holiday on his birthday_. “There is something,”
adds Dr. Paris, “singularly interesting in this favourable recollection
of his native town and of the associations of his early youth. It adds
one more example to show, that, whatever may have been our destinies, and
however fortune may have changed our condition, where the heart remains
uncorrupted we shall, as the world closes upon us, fix our imaginations
upon the simplicities of our youth, and be cheered and warmed by the
remembrance of early pleasures.”
[14] “In all the various situations of life in which my mother was
placed,” says Dr. John Davy, “she so conducted herself as to gain
the regard and good-will of every one. She possessed a most kind and
affectionate heart, a pious mind, sound understanding, and perfect
integrity. She was devoted to the performance of all her duties, and
was remarkably free from all guile and foolish pride. When she became a
widow, she was in her thirty-fourth year, with five children, all of whom
were still to be educated, excepting Humphry, her eldest son. Her income
at this time was about £150 a-year, and it was encumbered with a debt of
about £1300, contracted by my father chiefly in consequence of losing
speculations in mining. Her good resolutions did not fail her on this
trying occasion; she met all her difficulties with courage and prudence.”
Dr. Paris, speaking of Davy’s mother, says: “She was remarkable for the
placidity of her temper and for the amiable and benevolent tendency of
her disposition.”
[15] “My brother,” says Dr. John Davy, “at the time of my father’s death
was sixteen years old. Seeing her (Mrs. Davy) in great affliction, he, in
a very affectionate manner, begged her ‘not to grieve,’ saying that ‘_he
would do all he could for his brother and sisters_.’”
[16] “It is remembered,” says Dr. John Davy, speaking of Sir Humphry’s
infancy, “that he walked off (to use a nursery phrase) when he was just
nine months old; and I have been told, that before he was two years of
age he could speak fluently. About this time my eldest sister was born,
and he was told by a servant, that on her appearance ‘his nose would be
put out of joint.’ On seeing the baby, it is related of him, that he put
his hand to his nose, and said, ‘Mamma, my nose not out of joint.’ Before
he had learned to write, he amused himself with copying the figures in
‘Æsop’s Fables,’ and under his drawings, in great letters, he contrived
to give them their names. His memory was very retentive, in proof of
which it is handed down in the family, that when very young he could
recite a great part of ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ even before he could well
read it. I believe that, like Pope, he lisped in numbers. I remember
hearing my mother say, that when scarcely five years old he made rhymes,
and recited them in the Christmas gambols. His disposition as a child
was remarkably sweet and affectionate.... The first school he was sent
to was that of a Mr. Bushell, at which reading and writing only were
taught. This master, then an old man, remarking the rapid progress of his
young pupil (he was then six years old), in a very disinterested manner
recommended my father to remove him to the Grammar-school.”
“It is a fact,” says Dr. Paris, “worthy, perhaps, of being recorded, that
Humphry Davy would, at the age of five years, turn over the pages of a
book as rapidly as if he were merely engaged in counting the leaves or in
hunting after pictures, and yet, on being questioned, he could generally
give a very satisfactory account of the contents. The same faculty was
retained by him through life.”
[17] “The Rev. Mr. Coryton (the master of the Grammar-school) was a man
of irregular habits, and ill-fitted for the office of teaching youth. He
was occasionally severe, and punished heavily slight offences. Pulling
the boys’ ears was practised by him in the most capricious manner, and
my brother was too frequently a sufferer from this infliction. It is
recorded of Humphry Davy, that he appeared before Mr. Coryton with a
large plaster on each ear, and that when asked by his master ‘what was
the matter with his ears,’ he replied with a very grave face, ‘that he
had put the plasters on to prevent a mortification.’”—_Dr. John Davy_, p.
14. In a letter to his mother, Sir Humphry Davy says, speaking of this
school, “I consider it fortunate that I was left much to myself as a
child, and put upon no particular plan of study, and that I enjoyed much
idleness at Mr. Coryton’s school. I perhaps owe to these circumstances
the little talents that I have, and their peculiar application. What I
am, I have made myself. I say this without vanity, and in pure simplicity
of heart.” Davy seems, indeed, to have been more distinguished out of
school, and by his comrades, than by any great advance in learning. “From
his facility in composing Latin and English verse,” says his brother,
“his assistance in these exercises was often requested, even by boys
much older than himself; and in writing valentines and love-letters, he
shone so pre-eminently, and gave his aid so willingly, that he is said
to have been generally resorted to on all emergencies of boyish loves.
Another cause of popularity among his comrades was his power of diverting
them by telling them stories; and so attractive were the tales, commonly
of wonder and terror, which he related, that they were in the habit
in an evening of collecting at a particular place to wait for him, as
under the balcony of the Star Inn, which afforded shelter, and where,
if there happened to be a cart, he would get into it, and hold forth
to his young audience.” (_Idem_, p. 15.) “The earliest indication that
I am aware of,” says Davy’s brother, “which he showed of his fondness
for experimenting, was in making fire-works. My eldest sister well
remembers that she was his assistant in this undertaking, and that their
workshop was an unfurnished room, in which, in bad weather, the Rev.
Dr. Tonkin (the elder brother of Mr. John Tonkin, the friend of our
family), then advanced in age and a valetudinarian, took exercise on his
chamber-horse—a large arm-chair attached to spring-boards, which boards
served for a table for compounding the ingredients of the squibs and
crackers.” “Davy,” says Dr. Paris, speaking of his youthful amusements,
“was in the habit of preparing a detonating composition, to which he gave
the name of ‘thunder powder,’ and which he would explode on a stone, to
the great delight of his young playfellows” (p. 5).
[18] The above are Davy’s own words, taken from a fragment of a letter
which his brother says exists in one of Sir Humphry’s note-books, kept
during his youth, and which was addressed to one of his early home
friends, the letter itself being descriptive of his escape from the vices
which are the most seductive to youth in towns. “An active mind,” he
writes, “a deep ideal feeling of good, _a look towards future greatness_,
has preserved me from these.”
[19] When Davy was offered the appointment of Superintendant of the
Pneumatic Institution at Bristol, “he accepted it,” says his brother,
“with the consent of all his friends, excepting Mr. John Tonkin, who had
hoped he would have settled at Penzance; and who,” Dr. Davy tells us in
another place, “was so angry with Humphry for accepting the appointment,
that he made some alteration in his will in consequence.” Dr. Paris’s
version of the affair is as follows: “His old and valued friend, Mr.
Tonkin, not only expressed his disapprobation of the scheme, but was
so vexed and irritated at having _his favourite plan of fixing Davy in
his native town as a surgeon_ thus thwarted, that he actually altered
his will, and revoked the legacy of his house, which he had previously
bequeathed him. Mr. Tonkin died on the 24th December, 1801; so that,
although he lived long enough to witness Davy’s appointment to the Royal
Institution, _he could never have anticipated the elevation to which his
genius and talents ultimately raised him.”—Life of Sir Humphry Davy_, p.
39.
[20] The little zoophyte here described is a kind of small “jelly-fish”
known by the name of the “Beroe.” It may be often seen on our shores.
[21] This memorable passage was written in a diary kept by Humphry Davy
during his youth. His brother, after quoting it, adds, “and this early
sentiment never forsook him; even in his last days he had a feeling
of the same kind, looking forward, were his life spared, to greater
exertions.”
[22] The details of this accident are taken from the account of an
explosion which occurred at Felling Colliery, near Sunderland, on the
12th of May, 1812, and of which a narrative was prefixed by the Rev. John
Hodgson to the published form of the funeral sermon he preached on the
occasion. It was this fearful explosion which led to the formation of
the Society for the Prevention of Accidents in Coal Mines; and it was at
the request of the members of this body that Humphry Davy was induced to
perfect his safety-lamp.
[23] The above generous sentiments are taken, almost verbatim, from a
letter of Mr. Buddle—“a person,” says the biographer of our hero, “whose
extensive practical knowledge justly entitled him to be considered as the
highest authority on all subjects connected with the art of mining,” and
who was of great service to Davy in carrying out his invention of the
safety-lamp. That gentleman, writing to Dr. Paris, says, “Sir Humphry
Davy accompanied me into some of our fiery mines, to prove the efficacy
of his lamp. Nothing could be more gratifying than the result of the
experiments, as they inspired everybody with perfect confidence in the
security which his invention had afforded. Sir Humphry was delighted,
and I was overpowered with feelings of gratitude to the great genius
which had produced it. I felt, however,” continues Mr. Buddle, “that he
did not contemplate any pecuniary reward, and in a private conversation
I remonstrated with him on the subject. I said, ‘You might as well
have secured this invention by a patent, and received your five or ten
thousand a-year for it.’ The reply of this great and noble-minded man
was, ‘No, my good friend, I never thought of such a thing,’” etc. as
above given. “I expostulated,” adds Mr. Buddle, “saying, that his ideas
were much too philosophic and refined for the occasion. He replied,
‘I have enough for all my views and purposes; more wealth might be
troublesome,’” and so on, the remainder of the speech being nearly word
for word with that which young Humphry has been here made to deliver.
[24] Watt’s first patent was in the year 1769, and that for his double
engine was in 1781. Dr. Davy, in speaking of the Wherry Mine as being a
place of favourite resort with his brother during his youth, says, “The
steam-engine there (an invention,” he adds, “which had only a short time
before been perfected by Mr. Watt) was one of the earliest that had been
introduced into Cornwall.”
[25] W. Symington (according to Haydn’s Dictionary) made a passage on
the Forth and Clyde Canal in 1789. In 1807, Fulton started a steam-boat
in America, on the river Hudson. In 1812, steam-vessels first began
plying on the Clyde; but it was not till the year 1815 that the first
steam-vessel made its appearance on the Thames. This was a boat from
Glasgow; for it was only in that year the first steamer was built in
England. Ten years afterward (1825) Captain Johnston received £10,000 for
making the first steam voyage to India in the _Enterprise_. In the year
1852 there were 1227 steam-vessels belonging to the United Kingdom.
[26] Gas was first evolved from coal by Clayton, in 1739. Its application
to the purposes of illumination was first tried by Mr. Murdoch, in
Cornwall, in 1792. Ten years after this (in 1802) Bolton and Watt’s
foundry, at Birmingham, exhibited the first display of gas-lights during
the rejoicings for peace. The first manufactory permanently lighted by
gas was a cotton mill at Manchester—this was in 1805. Gas was first used
for lighting Pall Mall, in London, in 1809, and in 1814 it had become
general throughout the metropolis. The gas-pipes in and round London are
now said to be more than 1100 miles in length.
[27] Mail-coaches were first set up at Bristol, Aug. 2, 1784, and at the
end of 1785 they became general in England. This plan for the conveyance
of letters was the invention of Mr. Palmer, at Bath. The mails had
previously been conveyed by carts with a single horse, or by boys on
horseback. From the establishment of mail-coaches the prosperity of the
Post-office commenced. The year before their introduction the postal
revenue was only £146,000, and it ultimately increased to £2,500,000.
[28] See Sir John Herschel’s “Introduction to the Study of Natural
Philosophy.”
[29] These are Davy’s own words, being the concluding passage of his work
“On the Safety-Lamp.”
[30] Professor Challis, of the Cambridge University, calculated the
height of the bow of light proceeding from the aurora (seen at Cambridge,
March 9, 1847) to be 177 miles above the surface of the earth. The limits
of our own atmosphere are placed, by Sir John Herschel, at the 100th part
of the diameter of the globe, or, in round numbers, 80 miles above the
surface.
[31] To give a just idea of this fearful event it should be added, that,
at the most moderate calculation, 1300 human beings lost their lives
through the eruption; it likewise caused the death of 20,000 horses, 7000
horned cattle, and 130,000 sheep. The fisheries on the southern coast of
the island, moreover, were destroyed by it; and Iceland has not to this
day, it is said, recovered from the disastrous event of the year of the
eruption of Skaptaa Jokul.
[32] The note-books of Davy during the time of his apprenticeship have
been preserved, and show (says his brother) “the ardour with which he
entered upon his studies, and the extensive reach of his mind in the
various branches of knowledge which he proposed to pursue. One of them,
bearing the date of 1795, is,” (Dr. John Davy adds,) “on many accounts, a
literary curiosity. It is a small quarto, with parchment covers. Outside
one of the covers is the figure of an ancient lyre drawn with his pen,
and on the other an olive leaf encircling a lamp; as if,” remarks his
biographer, “_in anticipation of his great discovery of confining flame
in the safety-lamp_. At the commencement of it is the following plan of
study:
1. Theology;
Or Religion, Ethics, } { Taught by Nature.
or moral virtues, } { ” by Revelation.
2. Geography.
3. My Profession.
1. Botany.
2. Pharmacy.
3. Nosology.
4. Anatomy.
5. Surgery.
6. Chemistry.
4. Logic.
5. Language.
1. English.
2. French.
3. Latin.
4. Greek.
5. Italian.
6. Spanish.
7. Hebrew.
6. Physics.
1. The doctrines and properties of natural bodies.
2. Of the operations of nature.
3. Of the doctrines of fluids.
4. Of the properties of organised matter.
5. Of the organisation of matter.
6. Simple astronomy.
7. Mechanics.
8. Rhetoric and Oratory.
9. History and Chronology.
10. Mathematics.
To give some distinct idea of the bent of his studies at this time,”
continues his brother, “I shall briefly notice the principal topics
which appear in this MS. volume. It opens with ‘_Hints towards the
Investigation of Truth in Religious and Political Opinions_, composed
as they occurred, to be placed in a more regular manner hereafter.’ His
first essay is ‘_On the Immortality and Immateriality of the Soul_;’ the
second bears the title of ‘_Body, organised matter_;’ and his third is
‘_On Governments_.’ Then there follow a variety of essays on metaphysical
and moral subjects. These topics occupy more than one half of the book;
the other part, which appears to have been written after, commences
at the opposite end, inverted. This is devoted partly to religious
essays; but besides these,” adds Dr. Davy, “there are some verses and
the beginning of a romance, called ‘_An Idyl_,’ which is in the form of
dialogue, the characters being ‘TREVELIS a warrior and friend of Prince
Arthur, and MORROBIN a Druid;’ the scene, ‘A cliff at the Land’s End in
Cornwall.’
“From the same source of information—his note-books—it appears, that in
the beginning of the year 1796 he entered on the study of mathematics.
One book is almost entirely confined to this subject, and he seems to
have finished the elementary course in more than twelve months, when he
was commencing the eleventh book of Euclid, having gone through most of
the other branches. He engaged in these studies without a master, and
perfectly voluntary on his part, from the conviction of their usefulness
preliminary to the study of chemical and physical sciences. His passion
for poetry at the same time appears to have kept pace with the expansion
of his faculties, and not to have been damped even by the application
to mathematics, for his early note-books contain many desultory verses.
His early chemical reading was confined to two works of a very different
description, ‘_Lavoisier’s Elements of Chemistry,_’ and ‘_Nicholson’s
Dictionary of Chemistry_.’ This new study seems very soon to have excited
in his mind a most lively interest. He was not satisfied with merely
reading and acquiring the ideas of others. He criticised the theoretical
views of the great French philosopher” (Lavoisier, the author of the
new Theory of Combustion, which was propounded only some few years
before); “he doubted, rejected, and advanced speculations of his own.
Speculation appears to have led him to experiment, and experiment to
further speculation, with such rapid progress that in a few months he had
formed a new hypothesis (concerning the principle of heat), and flattered
himself that he had triumphed over an important part of the doctrine of
the French school.
“Humphry Davy himself writes in one of his note-books, dated 1799,
‘About twenty months ago I began the study of Chemistry. The system of
Lavoisier, almost the only elementary book in my possession, was the
first that I studied.’” That the subject of heat was the first chemical
principle that engaged the boy’s attention we have further evidence
in the fact, that, a few years afterwards, his “_Researches on Heat
and Light_” were published in the form of essays, in a miscellaneous
volume edited by Dr. Beddoes. In the preface to this work the editor
says, referring to the views propounded by Davy, ‘It is not necessary,
in praise or excuse of his system, to add that at the time the theory
was formed the author was under twenty years of age, pupil to a
surgeon-apothecary in the most remote town of Cornwall, with little
access to philosophical books, and none at all to philosophical men.’”
[33] A lucifer match may be conveniently employed for the same purpose,
and it will be found that the match, by means of the cone, may be
inflamed at a greater distance from the fire than it could possibly be
without it.
[34] Young gentlemen of an experimental turn are cautioned against
attempting the same feat; for, should there be the least part of the
metal, at the bottom of the kettle, left unprotected by the soot, they
will assuredly experience considerable pain.
[35] Evaporation goes on more or less rapidly at all temperatures.
[36] Dr. Paris, in his “Life of Davy” (p. 37), relates the following
anecdote concerning the construction of this apparatus: “A French vessel
having been wrecked off the Land’s End, the surgeon escaped, and found
his way to Penzance. Accident brought him acquainted with Humphry Davy,
who showed him many civilities, and in return received, as a present from
the surgeon, a case of instruments which had been saved from the ship.
The contents were eagerly turned out and examined by the young chemist;
not, however, with any professional view as to their utility, but in
order to ascertain how far they might be convertible to experimental
purposes. The old-fashioned and clumsy glyster apparatus was viewed with
exultation, and seized in triumph. What reverses may not be suddenly
effected by a simple accident! So says the moralist. Reader, behold an
illustration: in the brief space of an hour did this long-neglected and
unobtrusive machine, emerging from its obscurity and insignificance,
figure away in all the pomp of a complicated piece of pneumatic
apparatus. Nor did its fortunes end here; it was destined for greater
things; and we shall hereafter learn that it actually performed the
duties of an air-pump in an original experiment on the nature and sources
of heat.” It is but right to add, that Dr. Davy doubts the truth of the
above story.
[37] The highest temperature of a good blast-furnace is, according to
Daniel, about equal to 3300°. This constitutes a “high white heat.”
[38] The above is Dr. Davy’s account of his brother’s first chemical
studies: “Such was the commencement of Humphry Davy’s career of
original research,” he adds, “which in a few years, by a succession
of discoveries, accomplished more in relation to change of theory and
extension of science than, in the most ardent and ambitious moments of
youth, he could either have hoped to effect or imagined possible.”
[39] A chemical philosopher in America ignited a piece of paper by one of
these lights on a still night. The breath, however, had to be held during
the operation, for the least agitation of the air wafted them from the
spot.
[40] A melancholy proof of this was furnished by the death of Mr. Hennell
(the chemist at Apothecaries’ Hall) on the 4th June, 1842. He was in
the act of mixing two separate portions of the powder in a moist state
with an ivory knife, when the whole quantity, amounting to above 6 lbs.
exploded, and shattered his head, breast, and right arm to atoms. A man,
however, who was standing within four yards of him, was not injured,
but the windows of the surrounding buildings were broken; while a large
wooden block, upon which one of the basins was placed, was shivered, as
was also the pavement on which it stood.
[41] In the ordinary lucifer-match (an invention since Davy’s time) we
have a striking illustration of the different temperatures required for
various substances to enter into combustion. The phosphorus with which
these lucifers are tipped becomes inflamed at a very low heat (60°),
so that mere friction is sufficient to ignite it. This substance, in
burning, produces heat sufficient to kindle the sulphur next to it; for
this, as we have seen, enters into combustion at about 500°; and the
sulphur again, in burning, raises the temperature sufficient to ignite
the wood, which requires a heat of at least 1000° before it can be made
to burn. Had the match been tipped with phosphorus alone, the phosphorus
acid produced by the combustion would have incrusted the wood and
prevented it inflaming. Before the use of phosphorus matches had become
general, others were introduced, the tips of which were coated with a
mixture of chlorate of potash and sulphur, and these had to be drawn
forcibly through a piece of folded sand-paper, for this mixture requires
a much higher heat in order to inflame it. Previous to the introduction
of these, again, the common brimstone match was in general use. This,
as is well known, was kindled by means of a spark in tinder—the tinder
consisting of charred rag, and the spark, therefore, being merely a
particle of charcoal at a red heat, while the ignition of the tinder
itself was originally produced by the percussion of a piece of flint and
steel, which evolved so much heat that small splinters of the metal were
fused by it and fell upon the tinder in a red-hot state.
[42] Chlorine gas was called “_oxy-muriatic acid_” when Davy was a boy,
from being supposed to be a compound of _oxygen_ and _muriatic acid
gas_. Davy, however, afterwards proved that this same oxy-muriatic acid
contained no oxygen whatever, and was rather an elementary substance,
being incapable of being resolved into any two other bodies.
[43] A piece of blotting-paper dipped in _oil of turpentine_, and
introduced into a jar of _chlorine gas_, immediately becomes inflamed.
[44] A few _flowers_ have also the property of emitting light at ordinary
temperatures. Among these may be cited the _tube-rose_, _nasturtium_,
and _marigold_, which occasionally give out flashes of light on a warm
summer’s evening. This, probably, arises from the combination of the
oxygen of the atmosphere with the vapour of the volatile oils upon which
the perfumes of flowers are known to depend. Again, other substances
emit light during the act of _crystallization_. This phenomenon is most
distinctly observed during the gradual deposit of arsenious acid, when
dissolved in hot hydrochloric acid (spirits of salts). In a dark place
each crystal, as it is formed, may be seen to emit a spark of light; and
on shaking the flask, so many crystals are sometimes suddenly produced,
that vivid flashes become perceptible. The cause of this phenomenon is
probably dependent on the fixation of oxygen by the arsenic at the moment
of precipitation.
[45] The blue colour of the oxy-hydrogen flame is due, probably, to the
particles of water formed by the combustion of the two gases.
[46] Dr. Paris’s “Life of Sir Humphry Davy,” p. 352.
[47] “Edinburgh Review,” January, 1816.
[48] “It will hereafter be scarcely credited,” says Dr. Paris, “that
an invention so eminently philosophic, and which could never have been
derived but from the sterling treasury of science, should have been
claimed in behalf of an enginewright of Killingworth colliery, of the
name of Stephenson; _a person not even professing a knowledge of the
elements of chemistry_.” The “enginewright” here sneered at for his
ignorance, ultimately rose to be the great George Stephenson, the
inventor of the locomotive. How would the fashionable physician speak
of the quondam enginewright of Killingworth colliery now! Stephenson’s
lamp was formed on the principle of admitting the fire-damp by narrow
tubes, and “in such small detached portions, that it would be consumed by
combustion.” The two lamps were, doubtlessly, distinct inventions, though
Davy, in all justice, appears to be entitled to precedence—not only in
point of date, but as regards the long chain of inductive reasoning
concerning the nature of flame by which his result was arrived at.
[49] “Davy’s passion for angling betrayed itself upon all occasions,”
says Dr. Paris; “whenever I had the honour of dining at his table,
the conversation, however it might have commenced, invariably ended
on fishing; and when a brother of the angle happened to be present,
you had the pleasure of hearing all his encounters with the finny
tribe—how he had lured them by his treachery, and vanquished them by
his perseverance. He would occasionally strike into a most eloquent and
impassioned strain upon some subject which warmed his fancy; such, for
example, as the beauties of mountain scenery: but before you could fully
enjoy the prospect which his imagination had pictured, down he carried
you into some sparkling stream, or rapid current, to flounder for the
next half-hour with a hooked salmon.... Nothing irritated him so much as
to find that his companions had caught more fish than himself, and if,
during conversation, a brother fisherman surpassed him in the relation of
his success, he betrayed similar impatience.”
[50] See Dr. Paris’s description of Davy’s ordinary fishing costume, p.
189.
[51] “This favourite dog is well remembered in Penzance,” says Davy’s
brother. “My sister writes,” he adds, “that ‘on his first return from
Bristol, after an absence of about twelve months, Chloe did not remember
him, till he called her by name, and then she was in a transport of joy.’
Her descendants are now numerous in the Mount’s Bay, and prized for good
qualities.” Vol. i. p. 54.
[52] See Dr. Paris’s “Life of Davy,” p. 12.
[53] See Dr. Paris’s account of Davy’s first interview with Gregory Watt,
p. 35.
[54] For the sake of simplicity, the nitric acid is here made to consist
(according to the new theory) of NO₆+H (instead of NO₅+HO), and so to
combine directly with the metal as NO₆+Ag (instead of with the oxide as
NO₅+OAg).
[55] The range of the eye, or diameter of the field of vision, is
110°; consequently, this is the largest angle under which an object
can be seen. The largest angle, however, is here made 120°, for the
simplification of the numbers. The range of vision is from 110° to 1′.
[56] See illustration at p. 378.
[57] The arrangement of lenses, above described, constitutes the
principle of what is termed the “_astronomical_ telescope;” for this
makes the objects appear upside down. But, though the inversion of a
star or planet is a matter of no moment in astronomical observation,
such an effect is most disagreeable when applied to terrestrial objects.
The ordinary telescope for _land_ purposes, therefore—or the “_day_
telescope,” as it is usually styled—has two other lenses behind the
eye-lens. These lenses have both the same focus as the eye-lens itself,
and are placed at a fixed distance from each other, such distance being
equal to the sum of their focal lengths: that is to say, if the eye-lens
have a focus of 2 inches, then each of the two other glasses should have
the same length of focus, and be placed at 4 (2 + 2) inches apart from
one another. The magnifying power of the day telescope may be calculated
in the same manner as that of the astronomical one above explained; for
the two additional lenses in the day instruments, having the same focal
length as the eye-lens itself, produce no further enlargement of the
objects, but serve only to cross the rays a second time, and so to render
the image _erect_ instead of _inverted_.
[58] Within the last 30 years the diamond has been used for the purpose
of microscopic lenses; for, owing to the refractive power of this
precious stone being greater than almost any other known substance,
and nearly double that of glass, lenses can be produced from it of a
great degree of magnifying power, and that with a comparatively small
curvature, so that increased distinctness is obtained; while the lens
itself, being nearly “_achromatic_,” the image produced by it is untinged
by prismatic colours. Mr. Pritchard constructed the first diamond
microscope in 1826. The diamond lens of this was double convex, and
had a focus of ¹⁄₃₀th of an inch, so that its magnifying power was 150
times. Dr. Goring, an eminent authority on the subject, says—“I conceive
diamond lenses to constitute the ultimatum of perfection in the single
microscope.” The sapphire has also been used for the construction of
microscopic lenses with considerable advantage, its magnifying power
being much greater than that of glass. Mr. Pritchard says, that the
sapphire, next to the diamond, possesses all qualities requisite for the
formation of a perfect magnifier, and presents less difficulties in the
construction.
INDEX.
Air, currents of, how caused, 186.
Air-pump, experiments with, 236.
Animal mechanism, wonders of, 88.
Argand-burners, why superior in brilliancy, 300.
Artificial light dependent on heat, 297.
Bath wells, temperature of the, 125.
Blow-pipe, cause of the increased heat produced by the, 300.
Brocken, spectre of the, in the Hartz mountains, 380;
philosophy of, 383.
Camera, images produced in, 342;
why reversed, 372;
how the lens intensifies images in the, 377;
cause of variation in the size of objects in, 378;
pictures must be projected on an opaque body, 380.
Cellini, Benvenuto, and the necromancer, 417.
Chlorine, experiments with, 279.
Coal, power concentrated in, 110.
Coal-mine, destructive explosion in, 94.
Colours, curious result from mixing in certain proportions, 425.
Combustion, laws of, 113;
phenomena of, 245;
nature of, 250;
experiments in, 247;
philosophy of, 284.
Combustion, spontaneous, 262, 272.
_Corpse candles_, philosophy of, 261.
Creation, the wondrous story of, 116.
Daguerreotype process of photography, 436.
Dew, deposition of, 144;
less plentiful in cloudy weather, 146;
its laws, 147.
Drummond light, the, 296.
Earthquakes, 126.
Electric light, 296.
Ether, its powers of vaporization, 224.
Explosive substances, 261, 264, 266.
Eye, the, wonderful construction of, 87.
Fire-damp not inflammable by red heat, 273;
rapidly explodes at white heat, 274;
explosible only when mixed with atmospheric air, 303.
Flame, subterranean, 125.
Flame, nature of, 285, 293;
of a candle hollow, 298;
experiments with, 301.
Fluids, expansive power of, 202.
Fulminates of the precious metals, 267;
gold, 268;
mercury, 268;
silver, 269;
platinum, 270.
Gas, its first application to illumination, 109.
Glass _absorbs artificial_, but transmits _solar_ heat, 159.
Hastings, French coast sometimes visible from, by refraction, 358.
Heat, natural sources of, 116;
celestial, 118;
subterraneous, 120-124;
mechanical production of, 129;
chemical, 130;
combustion, 132;
respiration, 131;
communication of, 134;
radiation, 137;
reflexion, 148;
difference between _solar_ and _terrestrial_, 158;
transmission of, 158-161;
absorption of, 163;
degrees of, in the spectrum, 162;
relative absorbing and radiating powers of surfaces, 165;
radiation by different colours, 166;
_solar_ more powerful reflected than direct, 168;
conduction, 169;
wonderful effects of, 193;
expansive power of, 196;
latent, 212;
white, 244;
artificial, curious changes in its character at high rates of
temperature, 244;
then assumes all the properties of solar, 244.
Hot-springs and wells, 125.
_Ignes fatui_, how produced, 260.
_Jack-o’-lanterns_, causes of, 260.
Land’s End described, 41.
Lens, magnifying power of the, how determined, 391.
Light, electric, 296;
artificial, dependent on heat, 297;
rays of, travel in straight lines, 344, 419;
refraction of, 350, 357;
experiments, 351;
rays of, assume the colour of objects from which they are
reflected, 367;
reflexion of, 407;
compound nature of a ray of, 422;
composed of seven colours, 423.
Lightning, varieties of, 128.
Liquids imperfect conductors of heat, 177;
merely solids whose particles are kept apart by heat, 212.
Lucifer-matches, why so readily inflammable, 272.
Luminosity, temperature at which bodies assume, 243.
Magician’s mirror, the, explained, 412.
Mail-coaches, the first, 109.
Metals, their relative power of conducting heat, 172;
expansion and contraction of, 197;
practical application of this power, 198;
cooling of, 239.
Microscope, principle of the, 395, 401;
the single, 397;
the compound, 400.
_Mirage_, an optical illusion caused by refraction, 357.
Mirrors, concave, experiments with, 148;
wonders produced by, 413;
different effects produced by metallic and glass, 154.
Mont Blanc, ascent of, 110;
ebullition on summit of, 230.
Objects, why they diminish in size in proportion to distance, 386;
magnifying of, by lenses, 388.
Oceanic currents, direction of the, 190.
Oils, lamp, philosophy of the combustion of, 275, 295.
Palissy, Bernard, his discoveries in pottery, 333.
Pendulum, compensation, principle of the, 200.
Phlogiston, an imaginary principle, 245.
Photography, first experiments in, 335, 433;
practice of, 435.
Prism, the spectrum produced by, merely an oblong figure of the sun,
421;
its colours the decomposition of the sunbeam into its elementary
tints, 422.
Pyramids of Egypt, size of the, 110.
Pyrophorus, how produced, 261.
Radiation, power of, in different substances, 142.
Ramsgate, Dover Castle rendered visible from, by refraction, 360.
Refraction of light, curious property of, 357;
illusions caused by extraordinary instances of, 358, 360.
Respiration, philosophy of, 86.
Safety-lamp, first glimmer of the, 93;
experiments with, 285;
completion of the first, 305;
its perfected form, 311;
value and importance of the invention, 303.
St. Michael’s Mount, Cornwall, 73.
Science, true, its nature, 87.
Scoresby’s, Captain, observation of a distant ship by refraction, 365.
Secretion, marvels of, 85.
Spectrum, proportions of prismatic tints in the, 426;
circular, 427.
Spontaneous combustion, 262, 272.
Steam, difference of heat in high and low pressure, 178.
Steam-boat, the first, 107.
Sun-pictures, the earliest, 335.
Talbot, Mr. Fox, his curious experiment of photographing a rapidly
revolving wheel, 443.
Talbotype process of photography, 436.
Telescope, principle of the, 393, 400.
Temperature, rate of increase below the surface of the earth, 122.
Vaporizable liquids readily explosible, 274.
Vision, range of, 386.
Volcanoes, 126.
_Will-o’-the-wisp_, philosophy of, 260.
Wire-gauze, its power of resisting flame, 310.
THE END.
BOOKS BY THE ABBOTTS.
THE FRANCONIA STORIES.
By JACOB ABBOTT. In Ten Volumes. Beautifully Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, 90
cents per Vol.; the set complete, in case, $9 00.
1. =Malleville.=
2. =Mary Bell.=
3. =Ellen Linn.=
4. =Wallace.=
5. =Beechnut.=
6. =Stuyvesant.=
7. =Agnes.=
8. =Mary Erskine.=
9. =Rodolphus.=
10. =Caroline.=
MARCO PAUL SERIES.
Marco Paul’s Voyages and Travels in the Pursuit of Knowledge. By JACOB
ABBOTT. Beautifully Illustrated. Complete in 6 Volumes, 16mo, Cloth, 90
cents per Volume. Price of the set, in case, $5 40.
=In New York.=
=On the Erie Canal.=
=In the Forests of Maine.=
=In Vermont.=
=In Boston.=
=At the Springfield Armory.=
RAINBOW AND LUCKY SERIES.
By JACOB ABBOTT. Beautifully Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, 90 cents each. The
set complete, in case, $4 50.
=Handie.=
=Rainbow’s Journey.=
=The Three Pines.=
=Selling Lucky.=
=Up the River.=
YOUNG CHRISTIAN SERIES.
By JACOB ABBOTT. In Four Volumes. Richly Illustrated with Engravings, and
Beautifully Bound. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75 per Vol. The set complete, Cloth,
$7 00; in Half Calf, $14 00.
=1. The Young Christian.=
=2. The Corner Stone.=
=3. The Way to Do Good.=
=4. Hoaryhead and M’Donner.=
HARPER’S STORY BOOKS.
A Series of Narratives, Biographies, and Tales, for the Instruction and
Entertainment of the Young. By JACOB ABBOTT. Embellished with more than
One Thousand beautiful Engravings. Square 4to, complete in 12 large
Volumes, or 36 small ones.
“HARPER’S STORY BOOKS” can be obtained complete in Twelve Volumes, bound
in blue and gold, each one containing Three Stories, for $21 00, or in
Thirty-six thin Volumes, bound in crimson and gold, each containing One
Story, for $32 40. The volumes may be had separately—the large ones at $1
75 each, the others at 90 cents each.
VOL. I.
=BRUNO=; or, Lessons of Fidelity, Patience, and Self-Denial Taught by a
Dog.
=WILLIE AND THE MORTGAGE=: showing How Much may be Accomplished by a Boy.
=THE STRAIT GATE=; or, The Rule of Exclusion from Heaven.
VOL. II.
=THE LITTLE LOUVRE=; or, The Boys’ and Girls’ Picture-Gallery.
=PRANK=; or, The Philosophy of Tricks and Mischief.
=EMMA=; or, The Three Misfortunes of a Belle.
VOL. III.
=VIRGINIA=; or, A Little Light on a Very Dark Saying.
=TIMBOO AND JOLIBA=; or, The Art of Being Useful.
=TIMBOO AND FANNY=; or, The Art of Self-Instruction.
VOL. IV.
=THE HARPER ESTABLISHMENT=; or, How the Story Books are Made.
=FRANKLIN=, the Apprentice-Boy.
=THE STUDIO=; or, Illustrations of the Theory and Practice of Drawing,
for Young Artists at Home.
VOL. V.
=THE STORY OF ANCIENT HISTORY=, from the Earliest Periods to the Fall of
the Roman Empire.
=THE STORY OF ENGLISH HISTORY=, from the Earliest Periods to the American
Revolution.
=THE STORY OF AMERICAN HISTORY=, from the Earliest Settlement of the
Country to the Establishment of the Federal Constitution.
VOL. VI.
=JOHN TRUE=; or, The Christian Experience of an Honest Boy.
=ELFRED=; or, The Blind Boy and his Pictures.
=THE MUSEUM=; or, Curiosities Explained.
VOL. VII.
=THE ENGINEER=; or, How to Travel in the Woods.
=RAMBLES AMONG THE ALPS.=
=THE THREE GOLD DOLLARS=; or, An Account of the Adventures of Robin Green.
VOL. VIII.
=THE GIBRALTAR GALLERY=: being an Account of various Things both Curious
and Useful.
=THE ALCOVE=: containing some Farther Account of Timboo, Mark, and Fanny.
=DIALOGUES= for the Amusement and Instruction of Young Persons.
VOL. IX.
=THE GREAT ELM=; or, Robin Green and Josiah Lane at School.
=AUNT MARGARET=; or, How John True kept his Resolutions.
=VERNON=; or, Conversations about Old Times in England.
VOL. X.
=CARL AND JOCKO=; or, The Adventures of the Little Italian Boy and his
Monkey.
=LAPSTONE=; or, The Sailor turned Shoemaker.
=ORKNEY, THE PEACEMAKER=; or, The Various Ways of Settling Disputes.
VOL. XI.
=JUDGE JUSTIN=; or, The Little Court of Morningdale.
=MINIGO=; or, The Fairy of Cairnstone Abbey.
=JASPER=; or, The Spoiled Child Recovered.
VOL. XII.
=CONGO=; or, Jasper’s Experience in Command.
=VIOLA= and her Little Brother Arno.
=LITTLE PAUL=; or, How to be Patient in Sickness and Pain.
Some of the Story Books are written particularly for girls, and some for
Boys, and the different Volumes are adapted to various ages, so that the
work forms a _Complete Library of Story Books_ for all the Children of
the Family and the Sunday-School.
ABBOTTS’ ILLUSTRATED HISTORIES.
Biographical Histories. By JACOB ABBOTT and JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. The
Volumes of this Series are printed and bound uniformly, and are
embellished with numerous Engravings. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00 per volume.
Price of the set (32 vols.), $32 00.
A series of volumes containing severally full accounts of the
lives, characters, and exploits of the most distinguished
sovereigns, potentates, and rulers that have been chiefly
renowned among mankind, in the various ages of the world, from
the earliest periods to the present day.
The successive volumes of the series, though they each contain
the life of a single individual, and constitute thus a distinct
and independent work, follow each other in the main, in regular
historical order, and each one continues the general narrative
of history down to the period at which the next volume takes
up the story; so that the whole series presents to the reader
a connected narrative of the line of general history from the
present age back to the remotest times.
The narratives are intended to be succinct and comprehensive,
and are written in a very plain and simple style. They are,
however, not juvenile in their character, nor intended
exclusively for the young. The volumes are sufficiently large
to allow each history to comprise all the leading facts in
the life of the personage who is the subject of it, and thus
to communicate all the information in respect to him which is
necessary for the purposes of the general reader.
Such being the design and character of the works, they would
seem to be specially adapted, not only for family reading, but
also for district, town, school, and Sunday-school libraries,
as well as for text-books in literary seminaries.
The plan of the series, and the manner in which the design has
been carried out by the author in the execution of it, have
been highly commended by the press in all parts of the country.
The whole series has been introduced into the school libraries
of several of the largest and most influential states.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S OPINION OF ABBOTTS’ HISTORIES.—_In a conversation
with the President just before his death, Mr. Lincoln said: “I want to
thank you and your brother for Abbotts’ series of Histories. I have
not education enough to appreciate the profound works of voluminous
historians; and if I had, I have no time to read them. But your series
of Histories gives me, in brief compass, just that knowledge of past men
and events which I need. I have read them, with the greatest interest. To
them I am indebted for about all the historical knowledge I have.”_