FOOTNOTES:

"The 27th day of December, 1666, in the afternoon, came a stranger to my house at the Hague, in a plebeick habit, of honest gravity and serious authority, of a mean stature and a little long face, black hair not at all curled, a beardless chin, and about forty-four years (as I guess) of age and born in North Holland. After salutation, he beseeched me with great reverence to pardon his rude accesses,for he was a lover of the Pyrotechnian art, and having read my treatise against the sympathetic powder of Sir Kenelm Digby, and observed my doubt about the philosophic mystery, induced him to ask me if I really was a disbeliever as to the existence of an universal medicine which would cure all diseases, unless the principal parts were perished, or the predestinated time of death come. I replied, I never met with an adept, or saw such a medicine, though I had fervently prayed for it. Then I said, 'Surely you are a learned physician.' 'No,' said he, 'I am a brass-founder, and a lover of chemistry.' He then took from his bosom-pouch a neat ivory box, and out of it three ponderous lumps of stone, each about the bigness of a walnut. I greedily saw and handled for a quarter of an hour this most noble substance, the value of which might be somewhere about twenty tons of gold; and having drawn from the owner many rare secrets of its admirable effects, I returned him this treasure of treasures with a most sorrowful mind, humbly beseeching him to bestow a fragment of it upon me in perpetual memory of him, though but the size of a coriander seed. 'No, no,' said he, 'that is not lawful, though thou wouldest give me as many golden ducats as would fill this room; for it would have particular consequences, and if fire could be burned of fire, I would at this instant rather cast it all into the fiercest flames.' He then asked if I had a private chamber whose prospect was from the public street; so I presently conducted him to my best furnished room backwards, which he entered, says Helvetius (in the true spirit of Dutch cleanliness), without wiping his shoes, which were full of snow and dirt. I now expected he would bestow some great secret upon me; but in vain. He asked for a piece of gold, and opening his doublet showed me five pieces of that precious metal which he wore upon a green riband, and which very much excelled mine in flexibility and color, each being the size of a small trencher. I now earnestly again craved a crumb of the stone, and at last, out of his philosophical commiseration, he gave me a morsel as large as a rapeseed; but I said, 'This scanty portion will scarcely transmute four grains of lead.' 'Then,' said he, 'Deliver it me back:' which I did, in hopes of a greater parcel; but he, cutting off half with his nail, said: 'Even this is sufficientfor thee.' 'Sir,' said I, with a dejected countenance, 'what means this?' And he said, 'Even that will transmute half an ounce of lead.' So I gave him great thanks, and said I would try it, and reveal it to no one. He then took his leave, and said he would call again next morning at nine. I then confessed, that while the mass of his medicine was in my hand the day before, I had secretly scraped off a bit with my nail, which I projected on lead, but it caused no transmutation, for the whole flew away in fumes. 'Friend,' said he, 'thou art more dexterous in committing theft than in applying medicine; hadst thou wrapt up thy stolen prey in yellow wax, it would have penetrated and transmuted the lead into gold.' I then asked if the philosophic work cost much or required long time, for philosophers say that nine or ten months are required for it. He answered, 'Their writings are only to be understood by the adepts, without whom no student can prepare this magistery. Fling not away, therefore, thy money and goods in hunting out this art, for thou shalt never find it.' To which I replied, 'As thy master showed it thee so mayest thou perchance discover something thereof to me who know the rudiments, and therefore, it may be easier to add to a foundation than begin anew.' 'In this art,' said he, 'it is quite otherwise, for unless thou knowest the thing from head to heel, thou canst not break open the glassy seal of Hermes. But enough; tomorrow at the ninth hour I will show thee the manner of projection.' But Elias never came again; so my wife, who was curious in the art whereof the worthy man had discoursed, teazed me to make the experiment with the little spark of bounty the artist had left me; so I melted half an ounce of lead, upon which my wife put in the said medicine; it hissed and bubbled, and in a quarter of an hour the mass of lead was transmuted into fine gold, at which we were exceedingly amazed. I took it to the goldsmith, who judged it most excellent, and willingly offered fifty florins for each ounce."

"The 27th day of December, 1666, in the afternoon, came a stranger to my house at the Hague, in a plebeick habit, of honest gravity and serious authority, of a mean stature and a little long face, black hair not at all curled, a beardless chin, and about forty-four years (as I guess) of age and born in North Holland. After salutation, he beseeched me with great reverence to pardon his rude accesses,for he was a lover of the Pyrotechnian art, and having read my treatise against the sympathetic powder of Sir Kenelm Digby, and observed my doubt about the philosophic mystery, induced him to ask me if I really was a disbeliever as to the existence of an universal medicine which would cure all diseases, unless the principal parts were perished, or the predestinated time of death come. I replied, I never met with an adept, or saw such a medicine, though I had fervently prayed for it. Then I said, 'Surely you are a learned physician.' 'No,' said he, 'I am a brass-founder, and a lover of chemistry.' He then took from his bosom-pouch a neat ivory box, and out of it three ponderous lumps of stone, each about the bigness of a walnut. I greedily saw and handled for a quarter of an hour this most noble substance, the value of which might be somewhere about twenty tons of gold; and having drawn from the owner many rare secrets of its admirable effects, I returned him this treasure of treasures with a most sorrowful mind, humbly beseeching him to bestow a fragment of it upon me in perpetual memory of him, though but the size of a coriander seed. 'No, no,' said he, 'that is not lawful, though thou wouldest give me as many golden ducats as would fill this room; for it would have particular consequences, and if fire could be burned of fire, I would at this instant rather cast it all into the fiercest flames.' He then asked if I had a private chamber whose prospect was from the public street; so I presently conducted him to my best furnished room backwards, which he entered, says Helvetius (in the true spirit of Dutch cleanliness), without wiping his shoes, which were full of snow and dirt. I now expected he would bestow some great secret upon me; but in vain. He asked for a piece of gold, and opening his doublet showed me five pieces of that precious metal which he wore upon a green riband, and which very much excelled mine in flexibility and color, each being the size of a small trencher. I now earnestly again craved a crumb of the stone, and at last, out of his philosophical commiseration, he gave me a morsel as large as a rapeseed; but I said, 'This scanty portion will scarcely transmute four grains of lead.' 'Then,' said he, 'Deliver it me back:' which I did, in hopes of a greater parcel; but he, cutting off half with his nail, said: 'Even this is sufficientfor thee.' 'Sir,' said I, with a dejected countenance, 'what means this?' And he said, 'Even that will transmute half an ounce of lead.' So I gave him great thanks, and said I would try it, and reveal it to no one. He then took his leave, and said he would call again next morning at nine. I then confessed, that while the mass of his medicine was in my hand the day before, I had secretly scraped off a bit with my nail, which I projected on lead, but it caused no transmutation, for the whole flew away in fumes. 'Friend,' said he, 'thou art more dexterous in committing theft than in applying medicine; hadst thou wrapt up thy stolen prey in yellow wax, it would have penetrated and transmuted the lead into gold.' I then asked if the philosophic work cost much or required long time, for philosophers say that nine or ten months are required for it. He answered, 'Their writings are only to be understood by the adepts, without whom no student can prepare this magistery. Fling not away, therefore, thy money and goods in hunting out this art, for thou shalt never find it.' To which I replied, 'As thy master showed it thee so mayest thou perchance discover something thereof to me who know the rudiments, and therefore, it may be easier to add to a foundation than begin anew.' 'In this art,' said he, 'it is quite otherwise, for unless thou knowest the thing from head to heel, thou canst not break open the glassy seal of Hermes. But enough; tomorrow at the ninth hour I will show thee the manner of projection.' But Elias never came again; so my wife, who was curious in the art whereof the worthy man had discoursed, teazed me to make the experiment with the little spark of bounty the artist had left me; so I melted half an ounce of lead, upon which my wife put in the said medicine; it hissed and bubbled, and in a quarter of an hour the mass of lead was transmuted into fine gold, at which we were exceedingly amazed. I took it to the goldsmith, who judged it most excellent, and willingly offered fifty florins for each ounce."

Such is the celebrated history of Elias the artist and Dr. Helvetius.

Helvetius stood very high as a man and chemist, but in connection with this and some other narratives of the samekind, it may be well to remember that something over a hundred years before that time the celebrated Paracelsus had introduced laudanum.

The following is another history of transmutation, given by Mangetus, on the authority of M. Gros, a clergyman of Geneva, "of the most unexceptionable character, and at the same time a skilful physician and expert chemist."

"About the year 1650 an unknown Italian came to Geneva and took lodgings at the sign of the Green Cross. After remaining there a day or two, he requested De Luc, the landlord, to procure him a man acquainted with Italian, to accompany him through the town and point out those things which deserved to be examined. De Luc was acquainted with M. Gros, at that time about twenty years of age, and a student in Geneva, and knowing his proficiency in the Italian language, requested him to accompany the stranger. To this proposition he willingly acceded, and attended the Italian everywhere for the space of a fortnight. The stranger now began to complain of want of money, which alarmed M. Gros not a little, for at that time he was very poor, and he became apprehensive, from the tenor of the stranger's conversation, that he intended to ask the loan of money from him. But instead of this, the Italian asked him if he was acquainted with any goldsmith, whose bellows and other utensils they might be permitted to use, and who would not refuse to supply them with the different articles requisite for a particular process which he wanted to perform. M. Gros named a M. Bureau, to whom the Italian immediately repaired. He readily furnished crucibles, pure tin, quicksilver, and the other things required by the Italian. The goldsmith left his workshop, that the Italian might be under the less restraint, leaving M. Gros, with one of his own workmen as an attendant. The Italian put a quantity of tin into one crucible, and a quantity of quicksilver into another. The tin was melted in the fire and the mercury heated. It was then poured into the melted tin, and at the same time a red powder enclosed in wax was projected into the amalgam. An agitation took place and a great deal of smoke wasexhaled from the crucible; but this speedily subsided, and the whole being poured out, formed six heavy ingots, having the color of gold. The goldsmith was called in by the Italian and requested to make a rigid examination of the smallest of these ingots. The goldsmith not content with the touch-stone and the application of aquafortis, exposed the metal on the cupel with lead and fused it with antimony, but it sustained no loss. He found it possessed of the ductility and specific gravity of gold; and full of admiration, he exclaimed that he had never worked before upon gold so perfectly pure. The Italian made him a present of the smallest ingot as a recompense and then, accompanied by M. Gros, he repaired to the mint, where he received from M. Bacuet, the mint-master, a quantity of Spanish gold coin, equal in weight to the ingots which he had brought. To M. Gros he made a present of twenty pieces on account of the attention that he had paid to him and after paying his bill at the inn, he added fifteen pieces more, to serve to entertain M. Gros and M. Bureau for some days, and in the meantime he ordered a supper, that he might, on his return, have the pleasure of supping with these two gentlemen. He went out, but never returned, leaving behind him the greatest regret and admiration. It is needless to add that M. Gros and M. Bureau continued to enjoy themselves at the inn till the fifteen pieces which the stranger had left, were exhausted."

"About the year 1650 an unknown Italian came to Geneva and took lodgings at the sign of the Green Cross. After remaining there a day or two, he requested De Luc, the landlord, to procure him a man acquainted with Italian, to accompany him through the town and point out those things which deserved to be examined. De Luc was acquainted with M. Gros, at that time about twenty years of age, and a student in Geneva, and knowing his proficiency in the Italian language, requested him to accompany the stranger. To this proposition he willingly acceded, and attended the Italian everywhere for the space of a fortnight. The stranger now began to complain of want of money, which alarmed M. Gros not a little, for at that time he was very poor, and he became apprehensive, from the tenor of the stranger's conversation, that he intended to ask the loan of money from him. But instead of this, the Italian asked him if he was acquainted with any goldsmith, whose bellows and other utensils they might be permitted to use, and who would not refuse to supply them with the different articles requisite for a particular process which he wanted to perform. M. Gros named a M. Bureau, to whom the Italian immediately repaired. He readily furnished crucibles, pure tin, quicksilver, and the other things required by the Italian. The goldsmith left his workshop, that the Italian might be under the less restraint, leaving M. Gros, with one of his own workmen as an attendant. The Italian put a quantity of tin into one crucible, and a quantity of quicksilver into another. The tin was melted in the fire and the mercury heated. It was then poured into the melted tin, and at the same time a red powder enclosed in wax was projected into the amalgam. An agitation took place and a great deal of smoke wasexhaled from the crucible; but this speedily subsided, and the whole being poured out, formed six heavy ingots, having the color of gold. The goldsmith was called in by the Italian and requested to make a rigid examination of the smallest of these ingots. The goldsmith not content with the touch-stone and the application of aquafortis, exposed the metal on the cupel with lead and fused it with antimony, but it sustained no loss. He found it possessed of the ductility and specific gravity of gold; and full of admiration, he exclaimed that he had never worked before upon gold so perfectly pure. The Italian made him a present of the smallest ingot as a recompense and then, accompanied by M. Gros, he repaired to the mint, where he received from M. Bacuet, the mint-master, a quantity of Spanish gold coin, equal in weight to the ingots which he had brought. To M. Gros he made a present of twenty pieces on account of the attention that he had paid to him and after paying his bill at the inn, he added fifteen pieces more, to serve to entertain M. Gros and M. Bureau for some days, and in the meantime he ordered a supper, that he might, on his return, have the pleasure of supping with these two gentlemen. He went out, but never returned, leaving behind him the greatest regret and admiration. It is needless to add that M. Gros and M. Bureau continued to enjoy themselves at the inn till the fifteen pieces which the stranger had left, were exhausted."

Narratives such as these led even Bergman, a very able chemist of the period, to take the ground that "although most of these relations are deceptive and many uncertain, some bear such character and testimony that, unless we reject all historical evidence, we must allow them entitled to confidence."

A much more probable explanation is that the relators were either dreaming or deceived by clever legerdemain.

Of the possibility or impossibility of converting the more common metals into gold or silver, it would be rash to give a positive opinion. To say that gold, silver, lead,copper, etc., are elements and cannot be changed, is merely to say that we have not been able to decompose them. Water, potash, soda, and other substances, were at one time considered elements, and resisted all the efforts of the older chemists to resolve them into their components, but with the advent of more powerful means of analysis they were shown to be compounds, and it is not impossible that the so-called elements into which they were resolved may themselves be found to be compounds. This has happened in regard to some substances which were at one time announced as elements, and it is not impossible that it may happen in regard to others. The ablest chemists of the present day recognize this fully and are prepared for radical changes in our knowledge of the nature and constitution of matter. Amongst the new views is the hypothesis of Rutherford and Soddy, which, as given by Sir William Ramsay, in a recent article contributed by him to "Harper's Magazine," is that,

"atoms of elements of high atomic weight, such as radium, uranium, thorium, and the suspected elements polonium and actinium, are unstable; that they undergo spontaneous change into other forms of matter, themselves radioactive and themselves unstable; and that finally elements are produced, which, on account of their non-radioactivity, are as a rule, impossible to recognize, for their minute amount precludes the application of any ordinary test with success. The recognition of helium however, which is comparatively easy of detection, lends great support to this hypothesis."

"atoms of elements of high atomic weight, such as radium, uranium, thorium, and the suspected elements polonium and actinium, are unstable; that they undergo spontaneous change into other forms of matter, themselves radioactive and themselves unstable; and that finally elements are produced, which, on account of their non-radioactivity, are as a rule, impossible to recognize, for their minute amount precludes the application of any ordinary test with success. The recognition of helium however, which is comparatively easy of detection, lends great support to this hypothesis."

At the same time we must not lose sight of the fact that the substances which we now recognize as elements have not only resisted the most powerful analytical agencies and dissociating forces, but have maintained their elementalcharacter in spectrum analysis, and shown their presence as distinct elements in the sun and other heavenly bodies where they must have been subjected to the action of the most energetic decomposing forces. So that in the present state of our knowledge the near prospect of successful transmutation does not seem to be very bright, although we cannot regard it as impossible. In the article from which we have already quoted, Sir William Ramsay, after discussing the bearing of certain experiments in regard to the parting with and absorbing of energy by certain elements, says: "If these hypotheses are just, then the transmutation of the elements no longer appears an idle dream. The philosopher's stone will have been discovered, and it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that it may lead to that other goal of the philosophers of the dark ages—theelixir vitæ. For the action of living cells is also dependent on the nature and direction of the energy which they contain; and who can say that it will be impossible to control their action, when the means of imparting and controlling energy shall have been investigated!"

In the event of the discovery of a cheap method of producing gold, the change which would certainly occur in our financial or currency system would be important, if not revolutionary. It has become the fashion at present with certain writers to scout the so-called "quantitative theory" of money as if it were an exposed fallacy. Now the quantitative theory of money rests on one of the most well-grounded and firmly established principles in political economy: the trouble is that the writers in question do not understand it or even know what it is. At present, the production of gold barely keeps pace with the increasing demand for the metal as currency and in the arts, but ifthat production were increased ten-fold, the value of gold would decline and prices would go up astonishingly.

One of the objects which the better class of alchemists had in view was the making of gold to such an extent that it might become quite common and cease to be sought after by mankind. One alchemical writer says: "Would to God that all men might become adepts in our art, for then gold, the common idol of mankind, would lose its value and we should prize it only for its scientific teaching."

FOOTNOTES:[2]Genesis vi, 2.

[2]Genesis vi, 2.

[2]Genesis vi, 2.

T

hisis really one of the processes supposed to be involved in the transmutation of the metals and might, therefore, perhaps, with propriety, be included under that head. But as it has received special attention in the apocryphal works of Hermes Trismegistus, who is generally regarded as the Father of Alchemy, it is frequently mentioned as one of the old scientific problems. Readers of Scott's novel, "Kenilworth," may remember that Wayland Smith, in his account of his former master, Demetrius Doboobius, describes him as a profound chemist who had "made several efforts to fix mercury, and judged himself to have made a fair hit at the philosopher's stone." Hermes, or, rather, those who wrote over his name, speaks in the jargon of the adepts, about "catching the flying bird," by which is meant mercury, and "drowning it so that it may fly no more." The usual means for effecting this was amalgamation with gold, or some other metal or solution in some acid.

To the ancient chemists mercury must have been one of the most interesting of objects. Its great heaviness, its metallic brilliancy, and its wonderful mobility, must all have combined to render it a subject for deep thought and an attractive object for experiment and investigation.

Living in a warm climate, as they did, there was no means at their command by which its fluidity could be impaired. This subtle substance seemed to defy the usualattempts to grasp it; it rolled about like a solid sphere, but offered no resistance to the touch, and when pressed it split up into innumerable smaller globules so that the problem of "fixing" it must have had a strange fascination for the thoughtful alchemist, especially when he found that, on subjection to a comparatively moderate degree of heat, this heavy metal disappeared in vapor and left not a trace behind.

I have often wondered what the old alchemists would have said if they had seen fluid mercury immersed in a clear liquid and brought out in the form of a lump of solid, bright metal. For, although this is not in any sense a solution of the problem, yet it is a most curious sight and one which was rarely seen before the discovery of the liquefaction of the gases. To Geber, Basil Valentine, Van Helmont, Helvetius, and men of their day, living in their climate, this startling phenomenon would have seemed nothing short of a miracle.

In modern times the solidification of mercury had been frequently witnessed by these who dwelt in northern climates and by the skilful use of certain freezing mixtures made up of ordinary salts, it is not difficult to exhibit this metal in the solid state at any time. But it was not until the discovery of the liquefaction of carbonic acid, nitrous oxide, and other gases by Faraday, about 1823, that the freezing of mercury became a common lecture-room experiment.

In the year 1862 the writer delivered a course of lectures on chemistry, in the city of Rochester, N. Y., and during the progress of these lectures he reduced carbonic acid first to the liquid, and then to the solid state, in the form of a white snow. The temperature of this snow was about -80° Cent. (-176° Fahr.) and when it was mixed with ether and laid on a quantity of mercury, the latter wasquickly frozen. In this way it was easy to make a hammer-head of frozen mercury and drive a nail with it.

Another very interesting experiment was the freezing of a slender triangular bar of mercury which might be twisted, bent, and tied in a knot. This was done by folding a long strip of very stiff paper so as to make an angular trough into which the mercury was poured. This trough was then carefully leveled and a mixture of solid carbonic acid and ether was placed over the metal in the usual way. In a few seconds the mercury was frozen quite solid so that it could be lifted out by means of two pairs of wooden forceps and bent and knotted at will. But the most striking part of the experiment was the melting of this bar of mercury by means of a piece of ice. The moment the ice touched the mercury, the latter melted and fell down in drops in the same way that a bar of lead or solder melts when it is touched with a red-hot iron.

The melted mercury was allowed to fall into a tall ale-glass of water, the temperature of which had been reduced as nearly as possible to the freezing point. When the mercury came in contact with the cold water, the latter began to freeze and by careful manipulation it was possible to freeze a tube of ice through the center of the column of water. The effect of this under proper illumination was very striking.

Owing to the fact that the specific heat or thermal capacity of mercury is only about one-thirtieth of that of water, it requires a considerable amount of melted mercury to produce the desired result.

But these processes do not enable us to fix mercury in the alchemical sense; the accomplishment of that still remains an unsolved problem, and it is more than likely that it will remain so.

L

oveof life is a characteristic of all animals, man included, and notwithstanding the fact that an occasional individual becomes so dissatisfied with his environment that he commits suicide, and also in the face of the poet's assertion that

"protracted life is but protracted woe"

most men and women are of the same way of thinking as Charmian, the attendant on Cleopatra, and "love long life better than figs." And the force of this general feeling is appealed to in the only one of the Mosaic commandments to which a promise is attached, the inducement for honoring father and mother being "that thy days may be long in the land that the Lord thy God giveth thee."

No wonder then that the old alchemists dreamed of a universal medicine that would not only prevent or cure sickness but that would renew the youth of the aged and the feeble, for in this, as in most other attempts at discovery, the wish was father to the thought. That the renewal of youth in the aged was supposed to be within the ability of the magicians and gods of old, we gather from the stories of Medea and Aeson and the ivory shoulder of Pelops, as referred to in Shakespeare, and explained in the "Shakespeare Cyclopedia."

Of the form of this supposed elixir we know very littlefor the language of the alchemists was so vague and mystical that it is often very difficult to ascertain their meaning with any approach to certainty. The following, which is a fair sample of their metaphorical modes of expressing themselves, is found in the works of Geber. In one of his writings, he exclaims: "Bring me the six lepers that I may cleanse them." Modern commentators explain this as being his mode of telling his readers that he would convert into gold the six inferior or, as they were called by the alchemists, the six imperfect metals. No wonder that Dr. Johnson adopted the idea that the wordgibberish(anciently writtengeberish) owed its origin to an epithet applied to the language of Geber and his tribe.

Some have claimed that the elixir and the philosopher's stone were one and the same thing, and some of the writings of the old alchemists would seem to confirm this view. Thus, at the close of a formula for preparing the philosopher's stone, Carolus Musitanus gives the following admonition:

"Thus friend, you have a description of the universal medicine, not only for curing diseases and prolonging life, but also for transmuting all metals into gold. Give therefore thanks to Almighty God, who, taking pity on human calamities, has at last revealed this inestimable treasure, and made it known for the benefit of all."

"Thus friend, you have a description of the universal medicine, not only for curing diseases and prolonging life, but also for transmuting all metals into gold. Give therefore thanks to Almighty God, who, taking pity on human calamities, has at last revealed this inestimable treasure, and made it known for the benefit of all."

And Brande tells us that "nearly all the alchemists attributed the power of prolonging life either to the philosopher's stone or to certain preparations of gold, imagining possibly that the permanence of that metal might be transferred to the human system. The celebrated Descartes is said to have supported such opinions; he told Sir Kenelm Digby that although he would not venture to promise immortality, he was certain that life might be lengthened tothe period of that of the Patriarchs. His plan, however, seems to have been the very rational one of limiting all excess of diet and enjoining punctual and frugal meals."

It is an old saying that history repeats itself. About forty years ago certain medical practitioners strongly urged the use of salts of gold in the treatment of disease, and great hopes were entertained in regard to their efficacy. And the Keeley gold cure for drunkards is strongly in evidence, even at the present day.

On the other hand, some have held that the elixir was quite distinct from the stone by which metals might be transmuted into gold. In the second part of "King Henry IV," Falstaff (Act III, Scene 2, line 355), says of Shallow: "it shall go hard but I will make him a philosopher's two stones to me," and this saying of his has given considerable trouble to the commentators.

Warburton's explanation of this expression is, that "there was two stones, one of which was a universal medicine and the other a transmuter of base metals into gold." And in Churchyard's "Discourse and Commendation of those that can make Gold," we read of Remundus, who

Wrate sundry workes, as well doth yet appeareOf stone for gold, and shewed plaine and cleareA stone for health.

Johnson and some others have objected to this explanation, but it seems to be evident that Falstaff meant that he would get health and wealth from Shallow. He got the wealth to the extent of a thousand pounds.

The intense desire which exists in the human bosom for an elixir that will cure all diseases, and prolong life has made itself evident, even in recent times, and has calledforth serious efforts on the part of men occupying prominent positions in the scientific world. Both in Europe and in this country suggestions have been made of fluids which, when injected into the veins of the old and the feeble, would renew youth and impart fresh strength. But alas! the results thus far attained have been anything but gratifying, and the probabilities against success in this direction are very strong.

The latest gleam of light comes from discoveries in connection with the radioactive elements, as the reader will find, on referring to Sir William Ramsay's utterance, which is given at the close of the article on the "Transmutation of the Metals," on a preceding page.

Inaddition to the seven "Follies," of which an account has been given in the preceding pages, there are a few which deserve to be classed with them, although they do not find a place in the usual lists. These are known as

P

artof the sepulchral rites of the ancients consisted in placing lighted lamps in the tombs or vaults in which the dead were laid, and, in many cases, these lamps were carefully tended and kept continually burning. Some authors have claimed, however, that these men of old were able to construct lamps which burned perpetually and required no attention. In number 379 of the "Spectator" there is an anecdote of some one having opened the sepulcher of the famous Rosicrucius. There he discovered a lamp burning which a statue of clock-work struck into pieces. Hence, says the writer, the disciples of this visionary claimed that he had made use of this method to show that he had re-invented the ever-burning lamps of the ancients. And Fortunio Liceti wrote a book in which he collected a large number of stories about lamps, said to have been found burning in tombs or vaults. Ozanam fills eight closely printed pages with a discussion of the subject.

Attempts have been made to explain many of the facts upon which is based the claim that the ancients were able to construct perpetual lamps by the suggestion that the light sometimes seen on the opening of ancient tombs may have been due to the phosphorescence which is well known to arise during the decomposition of animal and vegetable matter. Decaying wood and dead fish are familiar objects which give out a light that is sufficient to render dimly visible the outlines of surrounding objects, and sucha light, seen in the vicinity of an old lamp, might give rise to the impression that the lamp had been actually burning and that it had been blown out by sudden exposure to a draft of air.

Another supposition was that the flame, which was supposed to have been seen, may have been caused by the ignition of gases arising from the decomposition of dead bodies, and set on fire by the flambeaux or candles of the investigators, and it is quite possible that the occurrence of each of these phenomena may have given a certain degree of confirmation to preconceived ideas.

After the discovery of phosphorus in 1669, by Brandt and Kunckel, it was employed in the construction of luminous phials which could be carried in the pocket, and which gave out sufficient light to enable the user to see the hands of a watch on a dark night. Directions for making these luminous phials are very simple, and may be found in most of the books of experiments published prior to the introduction of the modern lucifer match. They were also used for obtaining a light by means of the old matches, which were tipped merely with a little sulphur, and which could not be ignited by friction. Such a match, after being dipped into one of these phosphorus bottles, would readily take fire by slight friction, and some persons preferred this contrivance to the old flint and steel, partly, no doubt, because it was a novelty. But these bottles were not in any sense perpetual, the light being due to the slow oxidation of the phosphorus so that, in a comparatively short time, the luminosity of the materials ceased. Nevertheless, it has been suggested that some form of these old luminous phials may have been the original perpetual lamp.

After the discovery of the phosphorescent qualities ofbarium sulphate or Bolognian phosphorus, as it was called, it was thought that this might be a re-discovery of the long-lost art of making perpetual lamps. But it is well known that this substance loses its phosphorescent power after being kept in the dark for some time, and that occasional exposure to bright sun-light is one of the conditions absolutely essential to its giving out any light at all. This condition does not exist in a dark tomb.

A few years ago phosphorescent salts of barium and calcium were employed in the manufacture of what was known as luminous paint. These materials shine in the dark with brilliancy sufficient to enable the observer to read words and numbers traced with them, but regular exposure to the rays of the sun or some other bright light is absolutely necessary to enable them to maintain their efficiency.

More recently it has been suggested that the ancients may have been acquainted with some form of radioactive matter like radium, and that this was the secret of the lamps in question. It is far more likely, however, that the reports of their perpetual lamps were based upon mere errors of observation.

The perpetual lamp is, in chemistry, the counterpart of perpetual motion in mechanics—both violate the fundamental principle of the conservation of energy. And just as suggestions of impossible movements have been numerous in the case of perpetual motion, so impossible devices and constructions have been suggested in regard to perpetual lamps. Prior to the development, or even the suggestion of the law of the conservation of energy, it was believed that it might be possible to find a liquid which would burn without being consumed, and a wick which would feed theliquid to the flame without being itself destroyed. Dr. Plott suggested naphtha for the fluid and asbestos for the wick, but since kerosene oil, naphtha, gasolene, and other liquids of the kind have become common, every housewife knows that as her lamp burns, the oil, of whatever kind it may be, disappears.

Under present conditions the construction of a perpetual lamp is not a severely felt want; for constancy and brilliancy our present means of illumination are sufficient for almost all our requirements. Whether or not it would be possible to gather up those natural currents of electricity, which are suspected to flow through and over the earth, and utilize them for purposes of illumination, however feeble, it might be difficult to decide. But such means of perpetual electric lighting would be similar to a perpetual motion derived from a mountain stream. Such natural means of illumination already exist, and have existed for ages in the fire-giving wells of naphtha which are found on the shores of the Caspian sea, and in other parts of the east, and which have long been objects of adoration to the fire-worshippers.

As for the outcome of present researches into the properties of radium, polonium, and similar substances, and their possible applications, it is too early to form even a surmise.

T

heproduction of a universal solvent or alkahest was one of the special problems of the alchemists in their general search for the philosopher's stone and the means of transmuting the so-called inferior metals into gold and silver. Their idea of the way in which it would aid them to attain these ends does not seem to be very clearly stated in any work that I have consulted; probably they thought that a universal solvent would wash away all impurities from common materials and leave in absolute purity the higher substance, which constituted the gold of the adepts. But whatever their particular object may have been, it is well known that much time and labor were expended in the fruitless search.

The futility of such attempts was very well exposed by the cynical sceptic, who asked them what kind of vessel could they provide for holding such a liquid? If its solvent powers are such that it dissolves everything, it is very evident that it would dissolve the very material of the vessel in which it must be placed.

When hydrofluoric acid became a subject of investigation it was thought that its characteristics approached, more nearly than those of any other substance known, to those of the universal solvent, and the very difficulty above suggested, presented itself strongly to the chemists who experimented with it. Not only common metals but glass and porcelain were acted upon by this wonderfully energetic liquid and when attempts were made to isolate thefluorine, even the platinum electrodes were corroded and destroyed. Vessels of pure silver and of lead served tolerably well, but Davy suggested that the most scientific method of constructing a containing vessel would be to use a compound in which fluorine was already present to the point of saturation. As there is a limit to the amount of fluorine with which any base can combine, such a vessel would be proof against its solvent action. I am not aware, however, that the suggestion was ever carried into actual practice with success.

T

hissingular delusion may have been partly due to errors of observation, the instruments and methods of former times having been notably crude and unreliable. This fact, taken in connection with the wild theories upon which the natural sciences of the middle ages were based, is a sufficient explanation of some of the extraordinary statements made by Kircher, Schott, Digby, and others.

By palingenesy these writers meant a certain chemical process by means of which a plant or an animal might be revived from its ashes. In other words a sort of material resurrection. Most of the accounts given by the old authors go no further than to assert that by proper methods the ashes of plants, when treated with water, produce small forests of ferns and pines. Thus, an English chemist, named Coxe, asserts that having extracted and dissolved the essential salts of fern, and then filtered the liquor, he observed, after leaving it at rest for five or six weeks, a vegetation of small ferns adhering to the bottom of the vessel. The same chemist, having mixed northern potash with an equal quantity of sal ammoniac, saw, some time after, a small forest of pines and other trees, with which he was not acquainted, rising from the bottom of the vessel.

And Kircher tells us in his "Ars Magnetica" that he had a long-necked phial, hermetically sealed, containing the ashes of a plant which he could revive at pleasure by means of heat; and that he showed this wonderful phenomenonto Christina, Queen of Sweden, who was highly delighted with it. Unfortunately he left this valuable curiosity one cold day in his window and it was entirely destroyed by the frost. Father Schott also asserts that he saw this chemical wonder which, according to his account, was a rose revived from its ashes. And he adds that a certain prince having requested Kircher to make him one of the same kind, he chose rather to give up his own than to repeat the operation.

Even the celebrated Boyle, though not very favorable to palingenesy, relates that having dissolved in water some verdigris, which, as is well known, is produced by combining copper with the acid of vinegar, and having caused this water to congeal, by means of artificial cold, he observed, at the surface of the ice, small figures which had an exact resemblance to vines.

In this connection it is well to bear in mind that in Boyle's time almost all vinegar was really what its name implies—sour wine(vin aigre)—and verdigris or copper acetate was generally prepared by exposing copper plates to the action of refuse grapes which had been allowed to ferment and become sour. Therefore to him it might not have seemed so very improbable that the green crystals which appeared on the surface of the ice were, in reality, minute resuscitated grape-vines.

The explanation of these facts given by Father Kircher is worthy of the science of the times. He tells us that the seminal virtue of each mixture is contained in its salts and these salts, unalterable by their nature, when put in motion by heat, rise in the vessel through the liquor in which they are diffused. Being then at liberty to arrange themselves at pleasure, they place themselves in that orderin which they would be placed by the effect of vegetation, or the same as they occupied before the body to which they belonged had been decomposed by the fire; in short, they form a plant, or the phantom of a plant, which has a perfect resemblance to the one destroyed.

That the operators have here mistaken for true vegetable growth the fern-like crystals of the salts which exist in the ashes of all plants is very obvious. Their knowledge of plant structure was exceedingly limited and their microscopes were so imperfect that imagination had free scope. As seen under our modern microscopes, there are few prettier sights than the crystallization of such salts as sal ammoniac, potassic nitrate, barium chloride, etc. The crystals are actually seen to grow and it would not require a very great stretch of the imagination to convince one that the growth is due to a living organism. Indeed, this view has actually been taken in an article which recently appeared in a prominent magazine. The writer of that article sees no difference between the mere aggregation of inorganic particles brought together by voltaic action and the building up of vital structures under the influence of organic forces. This is simply materialism run mad.

Perhaps the finest illustration of such crystallization is to be found in the deposition of silver from a solution of the nitrate as seen under the microscope. A drop of the solution is placed on a glass slide and while the observer watches it through a low power, a piece of copper wire or, preferably, a minute quantity of the amalgam of tin and mercury, such as is used for "silvering" cheap looking glasses, is brought into contact with it. Chemical decomposition at once sets in and then the silver thus deposited forms one element of a very minute voltaic couple andfresh crystals of silver are deposited upon the silver already thrown down. When the illumination of this object under the microscope is properly managed, the appearance, which resembles that shown in Fig. 18, is exceedingly brilliant, and beautiful beyond description.

Fig. 18.

That imagination played strange pranks in the observations of the older microscopists is shown by some of the engravings found in their books. I have now before me a thick, dumpy quarto in which the so-called seminal animalcules are depicted as little men and women, and I have no doubt that, to the eye of this early observer, they had that appearance. But the microscopists of to-day know better.

Sir Kenelm Digby, whose name is associated with the Sympathetic Powder, tells us that he took the ashes of burnt crabs, dissolved them in water and, after subjecting the whole to a tedious process, small crabs were produced in the liquor. These were nourished with blood from theox, and, after a time, left to themselves in some stream where they throve and grew large.

Now, although Evelyn, in his diary, declares that "Sir Kenelm was an errant mountebank," it is quite possible that he was honest in his account of his experiments and that he was merely led astray by the imperfection of his instruments of observation. It is more than likely that the creatures which Digby saw were entomostraca introduced in the form of ova which, unless a good microscope be used, are quite invisible. These would develop rapidly and might easily be mistaken for some species of crab, though, when examined with proper instruments, all resemblance vanishes. When let loose in a running stream it would evidently be impossible to trace their identity and follow their growth.

But while some of these stories may have originated in errors of observation this will hardly explain some of the statements made by those who have advocated this strange doctrine. Father Schott, in his "Physica Curiosa," gives an account of the resurrection of a sparrow and actually gives an engraving in which the bird is shown in a bottle revived!

Although the subject, of itself, is not worthy of a moment's consideration, it deserves attention as an illustration of the extraordinary vagaries into which the human mind is liable to fall.

T

hiscurious occult method of curing wounds is indissolubly associated with the name of Sir Kenelm Digby (born 1603, died 1665), though it was undoubtedly in use long before his time. He himself tells us that he learned to make and apply the drug from a Carmelite, who had traveled in the east, and whom he met in Florence, in 1622. The descendants of Digby are still prominent in England, and O. W. Holmes, in his "One Hundred Days in Europe," tells us that he had met a Sir Kenelm Digby, a descendant of the famous Sir Kenelm of the seventeenth century, and that he could hardly refrain from asking him if he had any of his ancestor's famous powder in his pocket.

Digby was a student of chemistry, or at least of the chemistry of those days, and wrote books of Recipes and the making of "Methington [metheglin or mead?] Syder, etc." He was, as we have seen in the previous article, a believer in palingenesy and made experiments with a view to substantiate that strange doctrine. Evelyn calls him an "errant quack," and he may have been given to quackery, but then the loose scientific ideas of those days allowed a wide range in drawing conclusions which, though they seem absurd to us, may have appeared to be quite reasonable to the men of that time.

From his book on the subject,[3]we learn that the woundwas never to be brought into contact with the powder. A bandage was to be taken from the wound, immersed in the powder, and kept there until the wound healed.

This beats the absent treatment of Christian Science!

The powder was simply pulverized vitriol, that is, ferric sulphate, or sulphate of iron.

There was another and probably an older method of using sympathetic powders and salves; this was to apply the supposed curative to the weapon which caused the wound, instead of the wound itself. In the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," Scott gives an account of the way in which the Lady of Buccleuch applied this occult surgery to the wound of William of Deloraine:

"She drew the splinter from the wound,And with a charm she stanched the blood.She bade the gash be cleansed and bound:No longer by his couch she stood;But she has ta'en the broken lance.And washed it from the clotted gore,And salved the splinter o'er and o'er.William of Deloraine, in trance,Whene'er she turned it round and roundTwisted as if she galled his wound.Then to her maidens she did say,That he should be whole man and sound,Within the course of a night and day.Full long she toiled, for she did rueMishap to friend so stout and true."[4]

That no direct benefit could have been derived from such a mode of treatment must be obvious, but De Morgan very plausibly claims that in the then state of surgical and medical knowledge, it was really the very best that could have been adopted. His argument is as follows: "Thesympathetic powder was that which cured by anointing the weapon with its salve instead of the wound. I have been long convinced that it was efficacious. The directions were to keep the wound clean and cool, and to take care of diet, rubbing the salve on the knife or sword. If we remember the dreadful notions upon drugs which prevailed, both as to quantity and quality, we shall readily see that any way ofnotdressing the wound, would have been useful. If the physicians had taken the hint, had been careful of diet, etc., and had poured the little barrels of medicine down the throat of a practicable doll,theywould have had their magical cures as well as the surgeons. Matters are much improved now; the quantity of medicine given, even by orthodox physicians, would have been called infinitesimal by their professional ancestors. Accordingly, the College of Physicians has a right to abandon its motto, which is,Ars longa, vita brevis, meaning,Practice is long, so life is short."

As set forth by Digby and others, the use of the Powder of Sympathy is free from all taint of witchcraft or magic, but, in another form, it was wholly dependent upon incantations and other magical performances. This idea of sympathetic action was even carried so far as to lead to attempts to destroy or injure those whom the operator disliked. In some cases this was done by moulding an image in wax which, when formed under proper occult influences, was supposed to have the power of transferring to the victim any injuries inflicted on the image. Into such images pins and knives were thrust in the hope that the living original would suffer the same pains and mutilations that would be inflicted if the knives or pins were thrust into him, and sometimes the waxen form was held before the fire andallowed to melt away slowly in the hope that the prototype would also waste away, and ultimately die. Shakespeare alludes to this in the play of King John. In Act v., Scene 4, line 24, Melun says:


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