On the afternoon of an autumnal day in the last quarter of the
eighteenth century, two gentlemen, who had considerably passed the
prime of life, and looked like confirmed, but highly-respectable
bachelors, as indeed they were, might have been observed to leave the
vicinity of the South Bridge of Edinburgh at a leisurely pace. They
had just succeeded in negotiating the hire of a room, where, with
several of their literary friends, they proposed to hold a convivial
meeting once during every week of the winter that was coming on. In
pretty light spirits, from having proved themselves men of the world
by bringing this important matter to a satisfactory conclusion, they
were――it might be――discussing and denouncing the ridiculous prejudice,
as they believed it to be, which prevented their countrymen making use
of snails as an ordinary article of food, and vowing that they would,
ere long set an example in this respect which should have the effect
of divesting the public mind of such an absurd delusion; though it
must be confessed, that when they did attempt to execute this bold
intention they suddenly discovered that their appetites had taken an
unceremonious flight. Each of these personages was distinguished
by amiability of character, and utter unconsciousness of the guile
and wickedness that prevailed around him. Their studies and pursuits
were somewhat similar; and though frequently taking opposite views
of debated questions, they were ever bosom friends. But in dress and
manner they presented a striking contrast. One wore on his slender but
active person garments plain to affectation, and might have easily
passed for a member of the Society of Friends but for his cocked
hat. He conversed with force and animation, always displaying much
original information; but the accents that came from his lips, which
parted while listening, were undiluted Scotch; and his bearing was so
remarkably simple, that it was necessary to mark the thin, intellectual
face, the high, thoughtful forehead, and the keen, penetrating eye,
before being aware that he had “stuff” in him, or was more than an
ordinary citizen. The other was of a different stamp. He wore a sort
of academic dress; but it had received such careful and harmonious
additions, as proved that he was by no means indifferent to external
decorations and the propriety of costume. His aspect was comely and
prepossessing; his manner was correct and graceful; he was evidently a
person of elegant tastes and no inconsiderable refinement; and he used
a musical voice to speak good English, with a punctilious accuracy of
expression not often heard so far north at that time.
The former――the plain, unvarnished Scot――was Dr. Hutton, the
ingenious philosopher, who thought out and published the “Theory of
the Earth” that goes by his name, having previously shown his public
spirit, and rendered essential services to the agriculture of his
native country, by bringing, at much exertion to himself, an improved
system of husbandry from the rich and fruitful shire of Norfolk, and
introducing it into the district where he possessed a small estate. His
companion, whose countenance looked that of a being inwardly satisfied
with himself and all who came around him, was Dr. Black, the eminent
Professor of Chemistry in the northern capital; he whose experiments
tended to open up that path of scientific discovery which others have
since so successfully pursued.
Joseph Black, than whom few men have ever lived and died more truly
respected by his daily associates, was a native of France. He was born
in the year 1728, on the banks of the Garonne, hard by the place where
that river visits the city of Bordeaux. There his father, who belonged
to Belfast, had settled as a wine-merchant, and married the daughter of
an individual engaged in the same trade. But with all these temptations
and advantages in one of the largest and most opulent of French towns
to embark the boy in the commercial pursuits which formed the business
of his nearest relatives, young Black was very early destined to a
medical career. Arrangements were made with that view; and at the age
of twelve the future chemist left his home and native soil, to be
fittingly educated at the grammar-school of the flourishing Irish
sea-port town from which his worthy sire had emigrated to the fair
land of vines. For several years he pursued his preparatory studies
in Belfast; and his maternal grandfather being, though resident in
Bordeaux, connected by birth and some territorial possession with
Scotland, Black was, most likely from that cause, transported in his
eighteenth year to Glasgow, and entered as a student at the University.
He was immediately introduced to, and patronized by, the Professor of
Natural Philosophy, with whose son he formed a juvenile intimacy, which
was cemented by the similarity of their tastes.
About the date of Black’s arrival at this college, it happened
that the celebrated Cullen――he who influenced the career of Dr.
Hunter――made his first public appearance at that seat of learning, in
the capacity of Lecturer on Chemistry; his reputation speedily crept
abroad, and the attendance at his class became large. The clever
and acute French student was brought under the notice of Cullen,
who, being frank and generous to his pupils, almost to a fault, made
himself perfectly accessible at all hours, and treated them with much
respect. He immediately perceived the bent of Black’s genius; and
not only recommended, but strongly urged, him to apply himself with
determination to cultivate the science of chemistry, and gave him every
assistance in doing so. Cullen was not, perhaps, a first-rate chemist
himself, but he had an admirable method of imparting instruction;
and his gifted pupil’s preference for the study became so apparent,
that he was ere long employed to assist his friend and teacher in the
experiments of the classroom; and, when thus occupied, exhibited so
much address and dexterity as contributed in no small degree to the
success and fame of the lectures.
Black was still engaged in medical studies, and in order to complete
them under advantageous circumstances he repaired, in 1751, to
Edinburgh, where he stayed in the house of a cousin, who held one of
the professorships. Having, during three sessions, attended all the
requisite classes, he duly took the degree of Doctor of Medicine.
On that occasion he chose for his theme a chemical topic――the acid
arising from food and magnesia alba. Next year he, “still achieving,
still pursuing,” communicated his further ideas on the subject to
a scientific society, in a paper which was then read by him, and
afterward published in the second volume of “Essays, Physical and
Literary,” and gave an account of a most important chemical discovery.
This was the existence of an aërial fluid, which he called fixed air,
the presence of which gives mildness, as its absence gives causticity,
to alkalies and calcareous earths.
In 1756, on Cullen’s removal to Edinburgh, Black was appointed
Professor of Chemistry and Anatomy at Glasgow in his stead; but not
relishing, nor feeling particularly qualified for, the anatomical part
of the business, he requested and obtained the assent of the heads of
the university to an exchange, which he effected with the Professor of
Medicine. While in this position he matured and made public his theory
of latent heat, and explained to a society in Glasgow his experiments
on the subject, in the clearest and most satisfactory manner; and
this proved a principal leading step to the discoveries of Laplace,
Lavoisier, and others: though they niggardly and enviously abstained
in their dissertations from giving him that credit in the matter to
which he was so justly entitled. In 1764 he had as one of his pupils
the celebrated Watt; and it proved most fortunate for the interests
of science and for the fame of both, that these great men were thus
brought together.
Dr. Black was, in 1766, recalled to Edinburgh to fill the professorial
chair of Chemistry, which was rendered vacant by the appointment of
his old friend and adviser, Cullen, to that of Medicine. During the
remainder of his career he was regarded as one of the chief ornaments
of the university, as well as a most distinguished member of the
literary circle which then adorned the Scottish metropolis, where his
private character was highly esteemed. He continued his researches
with perseverance and success; and his lectures were so remarkable for
ease and elegance of style, novelty of information, and originality of
reasoning, that few students ever left college without having attended
a course or two. His devotion to the duties of his professorship was
so complete, that it interfered materially with the spread of his
fame, as others were thus allowed to pass him in that very path of
discovery which his genius had illumined and opened up. A paper which
he furnished, on the “Effects of boiling upon water in disposing it to
freeze more readily,” was published in the “Philosophical Transactions”
for 1774; and an “Analysis of the water of some hot springs in
Iceland,” appeared in the Scottish “Philosophical Transactions for
1791.” In due time he became a member of the societies of London and
of the city where he resided, and, moreover, had the distinction of
being selected as one of the eight Foreign Associates of the Academy
of Sciences at Paris. His lectures on the “Elements of Chemistry,”
delivered in the University of Edinburgh, were, as late as 1803,
published in two volumes, by Professor Robison.
While thus achieving scientific triumphs, the pecuniary affairs of
Dr. Black had flourished better than even the most inquisitive of his
neighbors had supposed; and the manner in which he disposed of his
money by his will was peculiar and characteristic. When he felt the
approaches of age, and found it necessary to employ an assistant, about
his sixtieth year he had a list drawn up of persons who had a claim on
his bounty, and whom he wished to inherit his treasure; and he destined
it in such proportions as seemed consistent with the extent of care and
solicitude to which they were entitled at his hand.
His health had long been in a delicate state, insomuch that he was
under the hard necessity of refraining from writing an account of his
brilliant discoveries, as the exertion of doing so for any continuous
period invariably brought on a spitting of blood; and he felt himself
in no condition to encounter the criticism or engage in the controversy
likely to follow such a publication. Moreover, he is said to have been
apprehensive of a long sickness, which for many reasons he anxiously
wished to avoid. This fate was averted by the sudden nature of the
summons he received to another world. On the 26th of November, 1799,
while he was seated at table partaking of such abstemious fare as he
had lately restricted himself to, the messenger of death was upon him,
and struck the fatal blow. His servitor went into the room according to
custom, but observing the cup of the venerable philosopher in his hand,
as if about to be raised to his lips, and naturally supposing him to
be in deep thought, he noiselessly withdrew. Entering soon after, he
perceived his master still in the same posture, but on going up to the
chair, was beyond measure surprised to find that the lamp of life had
gently expired.