CHAPTER XIII

THE SCIENTIST--SIR HUMPHRY DAVY

Humphry Davy (1778-1829) was born in Cornwall, a part of England known

for its very mild climate and the combined beauty and majesty of its

scenery. On either side of the peninsula the Atlantic in varying mood

lies extended in summer sunshine, or from its shroud of mist thunders on

the black cliffs and their time-sculptured sandstones. From the

coast inland, stretch, between flowered lanes and hedges, rolling

pasture-lands of rich green made all the more vivid by the deep reddish

tint of the ploughed fields. In Penzance, then a town of about three

thousand inhabitants, and in its picturesque vicinity, the early years

of Davy's life were passed. Across the bay rose the great vision of the

guarded mount (St. Michael's) of which Milton's verse speaks. Farther to

the east lay Lizard Head, the southernmost promontory of England, and a

few miles to the north St. Ives with its sweep of sandy beach; while not

far to the west of Penzance Land's End stood sentry "'Twixt two

unbounded seas." The youthful Davy was keenly alive to the charms of his

early environment, and his genius was susceptible to the belief in

supernatural agencies native to the imaginative Celtic people among whom

he was reared. As a precocious child of five he improvised rhymes, and

as a youth set forth in excellent verse the glories of Mount's Bay:--

"There did I first rejoice that I was born

Amidst the majesty of azure seas."

Davy received what is usually called a liberal education, putting in

nine years in the Penzance and one year in the Truro Grammar School. His

best exercises were translations from the classics into English verse.

He was rather idle, fond of fishing (an enthusiasm he retained

throughout life) and shooting, and less appreciated and beloved by his

masters than by his school-fellows, who recognized his wonderful

abilities, sought his aid in their Latin compositions (as well as in the

writing of letters and valentines), and listened eagerly to his

imaginative tales of wonder and horror. Years later he wrote to his

mother: "After all, the way in which we are taught Latin and Greek does

not much influence the important structure of our minds. I consider it

fortunate that I was left much to myself when 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."

When Davy was about sixteen years old, his father died, leaving the

widow and her five children, of whom Humphry was the eldest, with very

scanty provision. The mind of the youth seemed to undergo an immediate

change. He expressed his resolution (which he nobly carried out) to play

his part as son and brother. Within a few weeks he became apprenticed to

an apothecary and surgeon, and, having thus found his vocation, drew up

his own particular plan of self-education, to which he rigidly adhered.

His brother, Dr. John Davy, bears witness that the following is

transcribed from a notebook of Humphry's, bearing the date of the same

year as his apprenticeship (1795):--

1. Theology or Religion } Taught by Nature.

Ethics 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, etc.

A series of essays which Davy wrote in pursuing his scheme of

self-culture proves how rapidly his mind drew away from the

superstitions which characterized the masses of the people among whom he

lived. He had as a boy been haunted by the fear of monsters and witches

in which the credulous of all classes then believed. His notebook shows

that he was now subjecting to examination the religious and political

opinions of his time. He composed essays on the immortality and

immateriality of the soul, on governments, on the credulity of mortals,

on the dependence of the thinking powers on the organization of the

body, on the ultimate end of being, on happiness, and on moral

obligation. He studied the writings of Locke, Hartley, Berkeley, Hume,

Helvetius, Condorcet, and Reid, and knew something of German philosophy.

It was not till he was nineteen that Davy entered on the experimental

study of chemistry.

Guided by the _Elements_ of Lavoisier, encouraged by the friendship of

Gregory Watt (a son of James Watt) and by another gentleman of

university education, stimulated by contact with the Cornish mining

industry, Davy pursued this new study with zeal, and within a few months

had written two essays full of daring generalizations on the physical

sciences. These were published early in 1799. Partly on the basis of the

ingenious experiment mentioned in the preceding chapter, he came to the

conclusion that "Heat, or that power which prevents the actual contact

of the corpuscles of bodies, and which is the cause of our peculiar

sensations of heat and cold, may be defined as a peculiar motion,

probably a vibration, of the corpuscles of bodies, tending to separate

them." Other passages might be quoted from these essays to show how the

gifted youth of nineteen anticipated the science of subsequent decades,

but in the main these early efforts were characterized by the faults of

overwrought speculation and incomplete verification. He soon regretted

the premature publication of his studies. "When I consider," he wrote,

"the variety of theories that may be formed on the slender foundation of

one or two facts, I am convinced that it is the business of the true

philosopher to avoid them altogether. It is more laborious to accumulate

facts than to reason concerning them; but one good experiment is of more

value than the ingenuity of a brain like Newton's."

In the mean time Davy had been chosen superintendent of the Pneumatic

Institution at Bristol by Dr. Beddoes, its founder. It was supported by

the contributions of Thomas Wedgwood and other distinguished persons,

and aimed at discovering by means of experiment the physiological effect

of inhaling different gases, or "factitious airs," as they were called.

The founding of such an establishment has been termed a scientific

aberration, but the use now made in medical practice of oxygen, nitrous

oxide, chloroform, and other inhalations bears witness to the sanity of

the sort of research there set on foot. Even before going to Bristol,

Davy had inhaled small quantities of nitrous oxide mixed with air, in

spite of the fact that this gas had been held by a medical man to be the

"principle of contagion." He now carried on a series of tests, and

finally undertook an extended experiment with the assistance of a

doctor. In an air-tight or box-chamber he inhaled great quantities of

the supposedly dangerous gas. After he had been in the box an hour and a

quarter, he respired twenty quarts of pure nitrous oxide. He described

the experience in the following words:--

"A thrilling, extending from the chest to the extremities, was almost

immediately produced. I felt a sense of tangible extension highly

pleasurable in every limb; my visible impressions were dazzling, and

apparently magnified; I heard every sound in the room, and was perfectly

aware of my situation. By degrees, as the pleasurable sensations

increased, I lost all connection with external things; trains of vivid

visible images rapidly passed through my mind, and were connected with

words in such a manner, as to produce perceptions perfectly novel. I

existed in a world of newly connected and newly modified ideas: I

theorized, I imagined that I made discoveries. When I was awakened from

this semi-delirious trance by Dr. Kinglake, who took the bag from my

mouth, indignation and pride were the first feelings produced by the

sight of the persons about me. My emotions were enthusiastic and

sublime, and for a minute I walked round the room perfectly regardless

of what was said to me. As I recovered my former state of mind, I felt

an inclination to communicate the discoveries I had made during the

experiment. I endeavored to recall the ideas: they were feeble and

indistinct; one collection of terms, however, presented itself; and with

the most intense belief and prophetic manner, I exclaimed to Dr.

Kinglake, '_Nothing exists but thoughts! The universe is composed of

impressions, ideas, pleasures and pains!_'"

Davy aroused the admiration and interest of every one who met him. A

literary man to whom he was introduced shortly after his arrival in

Bristol spoke of the intellectual character of the young man's face. His

eye was piercing, and when he was not engaged in conversation, its

expression indicated abstraction, as though his mind were pursuing some

severe train of thought scarcely to be interrupted by external objects;

"and," this writer adds, "his ingenuousness impressed me as much as his

mental superiority." Mrs. Beddoes, a gay, witty, and elegant lady, and

an ardent admirer of the youthful scientist, was a sister of Maria

Edgeworth. The novelist's tolerance of Davy's enthusiasm soon passed

into a clear recognition of his commanding genius. Coleridge, Southey,

and other congenial friends, whom the chemist met under Dr. Beddoes'

roof, shared in the general admiration of his mental and social

qualities. Southey spoke of him as a miraculous young man, at whose

talents he could only wonder. Coleridge, when asked how Davy compared

with the cleverest men he had met on a visit to London, replied

expressively: "Why, Davy can eat them all! There is an energy, an

elasticity in his mind, which enables him to seize on and analyze all

questions, pushing them to their legitimate consequences. Every subject

in Davy's mind has the principle of vitality. Living thoughts spring up

like turf under his feet." He thought that if Davy had not been the

first chemist he would have been the first poet of the age. Their

correspondence attests the intimate interchange of ideas and sentiments

between these two men of genius, so different, yet with so much in

common.

In 1801 Davy was appointed assistant lecturer in chemistry at the Royal

Institution (Albemarle Street, London), which had been founded from

philanthropic motives by Count Rumford in 1799. Its aim was to promote

the application of science to the common purposes of life. Its founder

desired while benefiting the poor to enlist the sympathies of the

fashionable world. Davy, with a zeal for the cause of humanity and a

clear recognition of the value of a knowledge of chemistry in technical

industries and other daily occupations, lent himself readily to the

founder's plans. His success as a public expositor of science soon won

him promotion to the professorship of chemistry in the new institution,

and through his influence an interest in scientific investigation became

the vogue of London society. His popularity as a lecturer was so great

that his best friends feared that the head of the brilliant provincial

youth of twenty-two might be turned by the adulation of which he soon

became the object. "I have read," writes his brother, "copies of verses

addressed to him then, ... anonymous effusions, some of them displaying

much poetical taste as well as fervor of writing, and all showing the

influence which his appearance and manner had on the more susceptible of

his audience."

His study of the tanning industry (1801-1802) and his lectures on

agricultural chemistry (1803-1813) are indicative of the early purpose

of the Royal Institution and of Davy's lifelong inclination. The focus

of his scientific interest, however, rested on the furtherance of the

application of the electrical studies of Galvani and Volta in chemical

analysis. In a letter to the chairman of managers of the Royal

Institution Volta had in 1800 described his voltaic pile made up of a

succession of zinc and copper plates in pairs separated by a moist

conductor, and before the end of the same year Nicholson and Carlisle

had employed an electric current, produced by this newly devised

apparatus, in the decomposition of water into its elements.

In the spring of the following year the _Philosophical Magazine_ states:

"We have also to notice a course of lectures, just commenced at the

institution, on a new branch of philosophy--we mean Galvanic Phenomena.

On this interesting branch Mr. Davy (late of Bristol) gave the first

lecture on the 25th of April. He began with the history of Galvanism,

detailed the successive discoveries, and described the different methods

of accumulating influence.... He showed the effects of galvanism on the

legs of frogs, and exhibited some interesting experiments on the

galvanic effects on the solutions of metals in acids." In a paper

communicated to the Royal Society in 1806, _On Some Chemical Agencies of

Electricity_, Davy put on record the result of years of experiment. For

example, as stated by his biographer, he had connected a cup of gypsum

with one of agate by means of asbestos, and filling each with purified

water, had inserted the negative wire of the battery in the agate cup,

and the positive wire in that of the sulphate of lime. In about four

hours he had found a strong solution of lime in the agate cup, and

sulphuric acid in the cup of gypsum. On his reversing the arrangement,

and carrying on the process for a similar length of time, the sulphuric

acid appeared in the agate cup, and the solution of lime on the opposite

side. It was thus that he studied the transfer of certain of the

constituent parts of bodies by the action of electricity. "It is very

natural to suppose," says Davy, "that the repellent and attractive

energies are communicated from one particle to another particle of the

same kind, so as to establish a conducting _chain_ in the fluid. There

may be a succession of decompositions and recompositions before the

electrolysis is complete."

The publication of this paper in 1806 attracted much attention abroad,

and gained for him--in spite of the fact that England and France were

then at war--a medal awarded, under an arrangement instituted by

Napoleon a few years previously, for the best experimental work on the

subject of electricity. "Some people," said Davy, "say I ought not to

accept this prize; and there have been foolish paragraphs in the papers

to that effect; but if the two countries or governments are at war, the

men of science are not. That would, indeed, be a civil war of the worst

description: we should rather, through the instrumentality of men of

science, soften the asperities of national hostility."

In the following year Davy reported other chemical changes produced by

electricity; he had succeeded in decomposing the fixed alkalis and

discovering the elements potassium and sodium. To analyze a small piece

of pure potash slightly moist from the atmosphere, he had placed it on

an insulated platinum disk connected with the negative side of a voltaic

battery. A platinum wire connected with the positive side was brought in

contact with the upper surface of the alkali. "The potash began to fuse

at both its points of electrization." At the lower (negative) surface

small globules having a high metallic luster like quicksilver appeared,

some of which burned with explosion and flame while others remained and

became tarnished. When Davy saw these globules of a hitherto unknown

metal, he danced about the laboratory in ecstasy and for some time was

too much excited to continue his experiments.

After recovering from a very severe illness, owing in the judgment of

some to overapplication to experimental science, and in his own judgment

to a visit to Newgate Prison with the purpose of improving its sanitary

condition, Davy made an investigation of the alkaline earths. He failed

in his endeavor to obtain from these sources pure metals, but he gave

names to barium, strontium, calcium, and magnesium, conjecturing that

the alkaline earths were, like potash and soda, metallic oxides. In

addition Davy anticipated the isolation of silicon, aluminium, and

zirconium. No doubt what gave special zest to his study of the alkalis

was the hope of overthrowing the doctrine of French chemists that oxygen

was the essential element of every acid. Lavoisier had given it, indeed,

the name oxygen (acid-producer) on that supposition. Davy showed,

however, that this element is a constituent of many alkalis.

In 1810 he advanced his controversy by explaining the nature of

chlorine. Discovered long before by the indefatigable Scheele, it bore

at the beginning of the nineteenth century the name oxymuriatic acid.

Davy proved that it contained neither oxygen nor muriatic (hydrochloric)

acid (though, as we know, it forms, with hydrogen, muriatic acid). He

gave the name _chlorine_ because of the color of the gas (χλωρός, pale

green). Davy studied later the compounds of fluorine, and though unable

to isolate the element, conjectured its likeness to chlorine.

He lectured before the Dublin Society in 1810, and again in the

following year; on the occasion of his second visit receiving the degree

of LL.D. from Trinity College. He was knighted in the spring of 1812,

and was married to a handsome, intellectual, and wealthy lady. He was

appointed Honorary Professor of Chemistry at the Royal Institution. His

new independence gave him full liberty to pursue his scientific

interests. Toward the close of 1812 he writes to Lady Davy:--

"Yesterday I began some new experiments to which a very interesting

discovery and a slight accident put an end. I made use of a compound

more powerful than gunpowder destined perhaps at some time to change the

nature of war and influence the state of society. An explosion took

place which has done me no other harm than that of preventing me from

working this day and the effects of which will be gone to-morrow and

which I should not mention at all, except that you may hear some foolish

exaggerated account of it, for it really is not worth mentioning...."

The compound on the investigation of which he was then engaged is now

known as the trichloride of nitrogen.

In the autumn of 1813 Sir Humphry and Lady Davy, accompanied by Michael

Faraday, who on Davy's recommendation had in the spring of the same year

received a post at the Royal Institution, set out, in spite of the

continuance of the war, on a Continental tour. At Paris Sir Humphry was

welcomed by the French scientists with every mark of distinction. A

substance which had been found in the ashes of seaweed two years

previously, by a soap-boiler and manufacturer of saltpeter, was

submitted to Davy for chemical examination. Until Davy's arrival in

Paris little had been done to determine its real character. On December

6 Gay-Lussac presented a brief report on the new substance, which he

named _iode_ and considered analogous to chlorine. Davy, working with

almost incredible rapidity in the presence of his rivals, was able a

week later to sketch the chief characters of this new element, now known

by the name he chose for it--_iodine_.

We have passed over his investigation of boracic acid, ammonium nitrate,

and other compounds; we can merely mention in passing his later studies

of the diamond and other forms of carbon, of the chemical constituents

of the pigments used by the ancients, his investigation of the torpedo

fish, and his anticipation of the arc light.

It seems fitting that Sir Humphry Davy should be popularly remembered

for his invention of the miner's safety-lamp. At the beginning of the

nineteenth century the development of the iron industry, the increasing

use of the steam engine and of machinery in general led to great

activity and enterprise in the working of the coal mines. Colliery

explosions of fire-damp (marsh gas) became alarmingly frequent,

especially in the north of England. The mine-owners in some cases sought

to suppress the news of fatalities. A society, however, was formed to

protect the miners from injury through gas explosions, and Davy was

asked for advice. On his return from the Continent in 1815 he applied

himself energetically to the matter. He visited the mines and analyzed

the gas. He found that fire-damp explodes only at high temperature, and

that the flame of this explosive mixture will not pass through small

apertures. A miner's lamp was therefore constructed with wire gauze

about the flame to admit air for combustion. The fire-damp entering the

gauze burned quietly inside, but could not carry a high enough

temperature through the gauze to explode the large quantity outside. To

one of the members of the philanthropic society which had appealed to

him Davy wrote: "I have never received so much pleasure from the result

of any of my chemical labours; for I trust the cause of humanity will

gain something by it."

Davy was elected President of the Royal Society in 1820, and retained

that dignity till he felt compelled by ill health to relinquish it in

1827. "It was his wish," says his brother, "to have seen the Royal

Society an efficient establishment for all the great practical purposes

of science, similar to the college contemplated by Lord Bacon, and

sketched in his _New Atlantis_; having subordinate to it the Royal

Observatory at Greenwich for astronomy; the British Museum, for natural

history, in its most extensive acceptation."

Sir Humphry Davy, after a life crowded with splendid achievements, died

at Geneva in 1829 with many of his noblest dreams unfulfilled.

Fortunately in Michael Faraday, who is sometimes referred to as the

greatest of his discoveries, he had a successor who was fully adequate

to the task of furthering the various investigations that his genius had

set on foot, and who, to the majority of men of mature mind, is no less

personally interesting than the Cornish scientist, poet, and

philosopher.

REFERENCES

John Davy, _Works of Sir Humphry Davy_.

John Davy, _Fragmentary Remains, literary and scientific, of Sir

Humphry Davy, Bart._

Bence Jones, _Life and Letters of Faraday_.

John Tyndall, _Faraday as a Discoverer_.

E. v. Meyer, _History of Chemistry_.

S. P. Thompson, _Michael Faraday; his Life and Work_.

Sir Edward Thorpe, _Humphry Davy, Poet and Philosopher_.

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