"What's that? Is the house coming down?" cried Mr. Borlase, the
surgeon-apothecary of Penzance, jumping out of his cozy arm-chair, as a
tremendous explosion shook the house from top to bottom, making a great
jingle among the gallipots in the shop below, and rousing him from a
comfortable nap.
"Please, sir," said Betty, the housemaid, putting her head into the
room, "here's that boy Davy been a-blowing of hisself up agen. Drat him,
he's always up to some trick or other! He'll be the death of all of us
some day, that boy will, as sure as my name's Betty."
"Bring him here directly," replied her master, knitting his brow, and
screwing his mild countenance into an elaborate imitation of that of a
judge he once saw at the assizes, with the black cap on, sentencing some
poor wretch to be hanged. "Really, this sort of thing won't do at all."
Only, it must be owned, Mr. Borlase had said that many times before, and
put on the terrible judicial look too, and yet "that boy Davy" was at
his tricks again as much as ever.
"I'll bring as much as I can find of him, sir," said Betty, gathering up
her apron, as if she fully expected to discover the object of her search
in a fragmentary condition.
Presently there was heard a shuffling in the passage, and a somewhat
ungainly youth, about sixteen years of age, was thrust into the room,
with the due complement of legs, arms, and other members, and only
somewhat the grimier about the face for the explosion. His fingers were
all yellow with acids, and his clothes plentifully variegated with
stains from the same compounds. At first sight he looked rather a dull,
loutish boy, but his sharp, clear eyes somewhat redeemed his expression
on a second glance.
"Here he is, sir," cried Betty triumphantly, as though she really had
found him in pieces, and took credit for having put him cleverly
together again.
"Well, Humphrey," said Mr. Borlase, "what have you been up to now?
You'll never rest, I'm afraid, till you have the house on fire."
"Oh! if you please, sir, I was only experimenting in the garret, and
there's no harm done."
"No harm done!" echoed Betty; "and if there isn't it's no fault of
yours, you nasty monkey. I declare that blow up gave me such a turn you
could ha' knocked me down with a feather, and there's a smell all over
the house enough to pison any one."
"That'll do, Betty," said her master, finding the grim judicial
countenance rather difficult to keep up, and anxious to pronounce
sentence before it quite wore off. "I'll tell you what it is, young
Davy, this sort of thing won't do at all. I must speak to Mr. Tonkine
about you; and if I catch you at it again, you'll have to take yourself
and your experiments somewhere else. So I warn you. You had much better
attend to your work. It was only the other day you gave old Goody Jones
a paperful of cayenne instead of cinnamon; and there's Joe Grimsly, the
beadle, been here half a dozen times this day for those pills I told you
to make up, and they're not ready yet. So just you take yourself off,
mind your business, and don't let me have any more nonsense, or it'll be
the worse for you."
And so the culprit gladly backed out of the room, not a whit abashed by
the reprimand, for it was no novelty, to begin his experiments again and
again, and one day, by way of compensation for keeping his master's
household in constant terror of being blown up, to make his name
familiar as a household word, by the invention of a little instrument
that would save thousands and thousands from the fearful consequences of
coal-pit explosions.
The Mr. Tonkine that his master referred to was the self-constituted
protector of the Davy family. Old Davy had been a carver in the town,
and dying, left his widow in very distressed circumstances, when this
generous friend came forward and took upon himself the charge of the
widow and her children. Young Humphrey, on leaving school, had been
placed with Mr. Borlase to be brought up as an apothecary; but he was
much fonder of rambling about the country, or experimenting in the
garret which he had constituted his laboratory, than compounding drugs
behind his master's counter. As a boy he was not particularly smart,
although he was distinguished for the facility with which he gleaned the
substance of any book that happened to take his fancy, and for an early
predilection for poetry. As he grew up, the ardent, inquisitive turn of
his mind displayed itself more strongly. He was very fond of spending
what leisure time he had in strolling along the rocky coast searching
for sea-drift and minerals, or reading some favourite book.
"There along the beach he wandered, nourishing a youth sublime,
With the fairy-tales of science, and the long result of time."
In after life he used often to tell how when tired he would sit down on
the crags and exercise his fancy in anticipations of future renown, for
already the ambition of distinguishing himself in his favourite science
had seized him. "I have neither riches, nor power, nor birth," he wrote
in his memorandum-book, "to recommend me; yet if I live, I trust I shall
not be of less service to mankind and my friends than if I had been born
with all these advantages." He read a great deal, and though without
much method, managed, in a wonderfully short time, to master the
rudiments of natural philosophy and chemistry, to say nothing of
considerable acquaintance with botany, anatomy, and geometry; so that
though the pestle and mortar might have a quieter time of it than suited
his master's notions, Humphrey was busy enough in other ways.
[Illustration: HUMPHREY'S EXPERIMENTS ON THE DIFFUSION OF HEAT. Page
267.]
In his walk along the beach, the nature of the air contained in the
bladders of sea-weed was a constant subject of speculation with him; and
he used to sigh over the limited laboratory at his command, which
prevented him from thoroughly investigating the matter. But one day, as
good luck would have it, the waves threw up a case of surgical
instruments from some wrecked vessel, somewhat rusty and sand clogged,
but in Davy's ingenious hands capable of being turned to good account.
Out of an old syringe, which was contained in the case, he managed to
construct a very tolerable air pump; and with an old shade lamp, and a
couple of small metal tubes, he set himself to work to discover the
causes of the diffusion of heat. At first sight the want of proper
instruments for carrying on his researches might appear rather a
hindrance to his progress in the paths of scientific discovery; but, in
truth, his subsequent success as an experimentalist has been very
properly attributed, in no small degree, to that necessity which is the
parent of invention, and which forced him to exercise his skill and
ingenuity in making the most of the scanty materials at his command.
"Had he," says one of his biographers, "in the commencement of his
career been furnished with all those appliances which he enjoyed at a
later period, it is more than probable that he might never have acquired
that wonderful tact of manipulation, that ability of suggesting
expedients, and of contriving apparatus, so as to meet and surmount the
difficulties which must constantly arise during the progress of the
philosopher through the unbeaten track and unexplored regions of
science!"
While Davy was thus busily engaged qualifying himself for the
distinguished career that awaited him, Gregory Watt, the son of the
celebrated James Watt, being in delicate health, came to Penzance for
change of air, and lodged with Mrs. Davy. At first he and Humphrey did
not get on very well together, for the latter had just been reading some
metaphysical works, and was very fond of indulging in crude and flippant
speculations on such subjects, which rather displeased the shy invalid.
But one day some chance remark of Davy's gave token of his extensive
knowledge of natural history and chemistry, and thenceforth a close
intimacy sprang up between them, greatly to the lad's advantage, for
Watt's scientific knowledge set him in a more systematic groove of
study, and encouraged him to concentrate his energies on his favourite
pursuit.
Another useful friend Davy also found in Mr. Gilbert, afterwards
President of the Royal Society. Passing along one day, Mr. Gilbert
observed a youth making strange contortions of face as he hung over the
hutch gate of Borlase's house; and being told by a companion that he was
"the son of Davy the carver," and very fond of making chemical
experiments, he had a talk with the lad, and discovering his talents,
was ever afterwards his staunch friend and patron.
Through his two friends, Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Watt, Davy formed the
acquaintance of Dr. Beddoes, who was just setting up at Bristol, under
the title of Pneumatic Institution, an establishment for investigating
the medical properties of different gases; and who, appreciating his
abilities, gave him the superintendence of the new institution.
Although only twenty years of age at this time, Davy was well abreast of
the science of the day, and soon applied his vigorous and searching
intellect to several successful investigations. His first scientific
discovery was the detection of siliceous earth in the outer coating of
reeds and grasses. A child was rubbing two pieces of bonnet cane
together, and he noticed that a faint light was emitted; and on striking
them sharply together, vivid sparks were produced just as if they had
been flint and steel. The fact that when the outer skin was peeled off
this property was destroyed, showed that it was confined to the skin,
and on subjecting it to analysis silex was obtained, and still more in
reeds and grasses.
As superintendent of Dr. Beddoe's institution, his attention was, of
course, chiefly directed to the subject of gases, and with the
enthusiasm of youth, he applied himself ardently to the investigation of
their elements and effects, attempting several very dangerous
experiments in breathing gases, and more than once nearly sacrificing
his life. In the course of these experiments he found out the peculiar
properties of nitrous oxide, or, as it has since been popularly called,
"laughing gas," which impels any one who inhales it to go through some
characteristic action,--a droll fellow to laugh, a dismal one to weep
and sigh, a pugnacious man to fight and wrestle, or a musical one to
sing.
At twenty-two years of age, such was the reputation he had acquired,
that he got the appointment of lecturer at the Royal Institution, which
was just then established, and found himself in a little while not only
a man of mark in the scientific, but a "lion" in the fashionable world.
Natural philosophy and chemistry had begun to attract a good deal of
attention at that time; and Davy's enthusiasm, his clear and vivid
explanations of the mysteries of science, and the poetry and imagination
with which he invested the dry bones of scientific facts, caught the
popular taste exactly. His lecture-room became a fashionable lounge, and
was crowded with all sorts of distinguished people. The young lecturer
became quite the rage, and was petted and feted as the lion of the day.
It was only six years back that he was the druggist's boy in a little
country town, alarming and annoying the household with his indefatigable
experiments. He could hardly have imagined, as one of his day-dreams at
the sea-side, that his fame would be acquired so quickly.
In spite of all the flatteries and attentions which were showered upon
him, Davy stuck manfully to his profession; and if his reputation was
somewhat artificial and exaggerated at the commencement, he amply earned
and consolidated it by his valuable contributions to science during the
rest of his career.
The name of Humphrey Davy will always be best known from its association
with the ingenious safety lamp which he invented, and which well
entitles him to rank as one of the benefactors of mankind. It was in the
year 1815 that Davy first turned his attention to this subject. Of
frequent occurrence from the very first commencement of coal-mining, the
number of accidents from fire-damp had been sadly multiplied by the
increase of mining operations consequent on the introduction of the
steam engine. The dreadful character of some of the explosions which
occurred about this time, the appalling number of lives lost, and the
wide-spread desolation in some of the colliery districts which they had
occasioned, weighed heavily on the minds of all connected with such
matters. Not merely were the feelings of humanity wounded by the
terrible and constant danger to which the intrepid miners were exposed,
but it began to be gravely questioned whether the high rate of wage
which the collier required to pay him not only for his labour, but for
the risk he ran, would admit of the mines being profitably worked. It
was felt that some strenuous effort must be made to preserve the miners
from their awful foe. Davy was then in the plenitude of his reputation,
and a committee of coal-owners besought him to investigate the subject,
and if possible provide some preventative against explosions. Davy at
once went to the north of England, visited a number of the principal
pits, obtained specimens of fire-damp, analyzed them carefully, and
having discovered the peculiarities of this element of destruction,
after numerous experiments devised the safety-lamp as its antagonist.
The principles upon which this contrivance rests, are the modification
of the explosive tendencies of fire-damp (the inflammable gas in mines)
when mixed with carbonic acid and nitrogen; and the obstacle presented
to the passage of an explosion, if it should occur, through a hole less
than the seventh of an inch in diameter; and accordingly, while the
small oil lamp in burning itself mixes the surrounding gas with carbonic
acid and nitrogen, the cylinder of wire-gauze which surrounds it
prevents the escape of any explosion. It is curious that George
Stephenson, the celebrated engineer, about the same time, hit on much
the same expedient.
To control a "power that in its tremendous effects seems to emulate the
lightning and the earthquake," and to enclose it in a net of the most
slender texture, was indeed a grand achievement; and when we consider
the many thousand lives which it has been the means of saving from a
sudden and cruel death, it must be acknowledged to be one of the noblest
triumphs, not only of science, but of humanity, which the world has ever
seen. Honours were showered upon Davy, from the miners and coal-owners,
from scientific associations, from crowned heads; but all must agree
with Playfair in thinking that "it is little that the highest praise,
and that even the voice of national gratitude when most strongly
expressed, can add to the happiness of one who is conscious of having
done such a service to his fellow-men." Davy himself said he "valued it
more than anything he ever did." When urged by his friends to take out a
patent for the invention, he replied,--"No, I never thought of such a
thing. My sole object was to serve the cause of humanity, and if I have
succeeded, I am amply rewarded by the gratifying reflection of having
done so."
The honours of knighthood and baronetage were successively conferred on
Davy as a reward for his scientific labours; and the esteem of his
professional brethren was shown in his election to the President-ship
of the Royal Institution, in which, oddly enough, he was succeeded by
his old friend Mr. Gilbert, who had first taken him by the hand, and
whom he had got ahead of in the race of life.
Davy died at Geneva before he had completed his fifty-first year, no
doubt from over-exertion and the unhealthy character of the researches
he prosecuted so recklessly. Assiduous as he was in his devotion to his
favourite science, he found time also to master several continental
languages; to keep himself well acquainted with, and also to contribute
to the literature of the day; and to indulge his passion for
fly-fishing, at which he was a keen and practised adept.
Eminent as were the talents of Sir Humphrey Davy, and valuable as his
discovery of the safety-lamp has proved, it is but fair to own that his
credit to the latter has been very openly denied. Two persons of
scientific celebrity have been put forward as the real inventors of the
safety-lamp--namely, Dr. Reid Clanny of Newcastle, and the great
railway-engineer, George Stephenson. Of Clanny's safety-lamp a
description appeared in the _Philosophical Transactions_ in 1813--that
is, ten years before Sir Humphrey made his communication to the Royal
Society. However, it was a complicated affair, which required the whole
attention of a boy to work it, and was based on the principle of forcing
in air through water by the agency of bellows.
Stephenson's was a very different apparatus. In its general principle it
resembled Davy's, the chief difference being, that he inserted a glass
cylinder inside the wire-gauze cylinder, and inside the top of the glass
cylinder a perforated metallic chimney--the supply of air being kept up
through a triple circle of small holes in the bottom.
Stephenson's claim has, of course, been disputed by the friends and
admirers of Sir Humphrey Davy; but Mr. Smile has conclusively proved
that his lamp, the "Geordy," was in use at the Killingworth collieries
at the very time that Davy was conducting the experiments which led to
his invention. It is not to be inferred, however, that Davy knew aught
of what Stephenson had accomplished. It seems to be one of those rare
cases in which two minds, working independently, and unknown each to the
other, have both arrived simultaneously at the same result.
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