The remarks in this section are not proposed for the assistance of those who are already observers, but are intended to show to persons not familiar with the subject, that in observations demanding no unrivalled accuracy, the principles of common sense may be safely trusted, and that any gentleman of liberal education may, by perseverance and attention, ascertain the limits within which he may trust both his instrument and himself.
If the instrument is a divided one, the first thing is to learn to read the verniers. If the divisions are so fine that the coincidence is frequently doubtful, the best plan will be for the learner to get some acquaintance who is skilled in the use of instruments, and having set the instrument at hazard, to write down the readings of the verniers, and then request his friend to do the same; whenever there is any difference, he should carefully examine the doubtful one, and ask his friend to point out the minute peculiarities on which he founds his decision. This should be repeated frequently; and after some practice, he should note how many times in a hundred his reading differs from his friend's, and also how many divisions they usually differ.
The next point is, to ascertain the precision with which the learner can bisect an object with the wires of the telescope. This can be done without assistance. It is not necessary even to adjust the instrument, but merely to point it to a distant object. When it bisects any remarkable point, read off the verniers, and write down the result; then displace the telescope a little, and adjust it again. A series of such observations will show the confidence which is due to the observer's eye in bisecting an object, and also in reading the verniers; and as the first direction gave him some measure of the latter, he may, in a great measure, appreciate his skill in the former. He should also, when he finds a deviation in the reading, return to the telescope, and satisfy himself if he has made the bisection as complete as he can. In general, the student should practise each adjustment separately, and write down the results wherever he can measure its deviations.
Having thus practised the adjustments, the next step is to make an observation; but in order to try both himself and the instrument, let him take the altitude of some fixed object, a terrestrial one, and having registered the result, let him derange the adjustment, and repeat the process fifty or a hundred times. This will not merely afford him excellent practice, but enable him to judge of his own skill.
The first step in the use of every instrument, is to find the limits within which its employer can measure the SAME OBJECT UNDER THE SAME CIRCUMSTANCES. It is only from a knowledge of this, that he can have confidence in his measures of the SAME OBJECT UNDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES, and after that, of DIFFERENT OBJECTS UNDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES.
These principles are applicable to almost all instruments. If a person is desirous of ascertaining heights by a mountain barometer, let him begin by adjusting the instrument in his own study; and having made the upper contact, let him write down the reading of the vernier, and then let him derange the UPPER adjustment ONLY, re-adjust, and repeat the reading. When he is satisfied about the limits within which he can make that adjustment, let him do the same repeatedly with the lower; but let him not, until he knows his own errors in reading and adjusting, pronounce upon those of the instrument. In the case of a barometer, he must also be assured, that the temperature of the mercury does not change during the interval.
A friend once brought to me a beautifully constructed piece of mechanism, for marking minute portions of time; the three-hundredth parts of a second were indicated by it. It was a kind of watch, with a pin for stopping one of the hands. I proposed that we should each endeavour to stop it twenty times in succession, at the same point. We were both equally unpractised, and our first endeavours showed that we could not be confident of the twentieth part of a second. In fact, both the time occupied in causing the extremities of the fingers to obey the volition, as well as the time employed in compressing the flesh before the fingers acted on the stop, appeared to influence the accuracy of our observations. From some few experiments I made, I thought I perceived that the rapidity of the transmission of the effects of the will, depended on the state of fatigue or health of the body. If any one were to make experiments on this subject, it might be interesting, to compare the rapidity of the transmission of volition in different persons, with the time occupied in obliterating an impression made on one of the senses of the same persons. For example, by having a mechanism to make a piece of ignited charcoal revolve with different degrees of velocity, some persons will perceive a continuous circle of light before others, whose retina does not retain so long impressions that are made upon it.
Scientific inquiries are more exposed than most others to the inroads of pretenders; and I feel that I shall deserve the thanks of all who really value truth, by stating some of the methods of deceiving practised by unworthy claimants for its honours, whilst the mere circumstance of their arts being known may deter future offenders.
There are several species of impositions that have been practised in science, which are but little known, except to the initiated, and which it may perhaps be possible to render quite intelligible to ordinary understandings. These may be classed under the heads of hoaxing, forging, trimming, and cooking.
OF HOAXING. This, perhaps, will be better explained by an example. In the year 1788, M. Gioeni, a knight of Malta, published at Naples an account of a new family of Testacea, of which he described, with great minuteness, one species, the specific name of which has been taken from its habitat, and the generic he took from his own family, calling it Gioenia Sicula. It consisted of two rounded triangular valves, united by the body of the animal to a smaller valve in front. He gave figures of the animal, and of its parts; described its structure, its mode of advancing along the sand, the figure of the tract it left, and estimated the velocity of its course at about two-thirds of an inch per minute. He then described the structure of the shell, which he treated with nitric acid, and found it approach nearer to the nature of bone than any other shell.
The editors of the ENCYCLOPEDIE METHODIQUE, have copied this description, and have given figures of the Gioenia Sicula. The fact, however, is, that no such animal exists, but that the knight of Malta, finding on the Sicilian shores the three internal bones of one of the species of Bulla, of which some are found on the south-western coast of England, [Bulla lignaria] described and figured these bones most accurately, and drew the whole of the rest of the description from the stores of his own imagination.
Such frauds are far from justifiable; the only excuse which has been made for them is, when they have been practised on scientific academies which had reached the period of dotage. It should however be remembered, that the productions of nature are so various, that mere strangeness is very far from sufficient to render doubtful the existence of any creature for which there is evidence; [The number of vertebrae in the neck of the plesiosaurus is a strange but ascertained fact] and that, unless the memoir itself involves principles so contradictory, as to outweigh the evidence of a single witness, [The kind of contradiction which is here alluded to, is that which arises from well ascertained final causes; for instance, the ruminating stomach of the hoofed animals, is in no case combined with the claw-shaped form of the extremities, frequent in many of the carniverous animals, and necessary to some of them for the purpose of seizing their prey] it can only be regarded as a deception, without the accompaniment of wit.
FORGING differs from hoaxing, inasmuch as in the latter the deceit is intended to last for a time, and then be discovered, to the ridicule of those who have credited it; whereas the forger is one who, wishing to acquire a reputation for science, records observations which he has never made. This is sometimes accomplished in astronomical observations by calculating the time and circumstances of the phenomenon from tables. The observations of the second comet of 1784, which was only seen by the Chevalier D'Angos, were long suspected to be a forgery, and were at length proved to be so by the calculations and reasonings of Encke. The pretended observations did not accord amongst each other in giving any possible orbit. But M. Encke detected an orbit, belonging to some of the observations, from which he found that all the rest might be almost precisely deduced, provided a mistake of a unity in the index of the logarithm of the radius vector were supposed to have been made in all the rest of the calculations. ZACH. CORR. ASTRON. Tom. IV. p. 456.
Fortunately instances of the occurrence of forging are rare.
TRIMMING consists in clipping off little bits here and there from those observations which differ most in excess from the mean, and in sticking them on to those which are too small; a species of "equitable adjustment," as a radical would term it, which cannot be admitted in science.
This fraud is not perhaps so injurious (except to the character of the trimmer) as cooking, which the next paragraph will teach, The reason of this is, that the AVERAGE given by the observations of the trimmer is the same, whether they are trimmed or untrimmed. His object is to gain a reputation for extreme accuracy in making observations; but from respect for truth, or from a prudent foresight, he does not distort the position of the fact he gets from nature, and it is usually difficult to detect him. He has more sense or less adventure than the Cook.
OF COOKING. This is an art of various forms, the object of which is to give to ordinary observations the appearance and character of those of the highest degree of accuracy.
One of its numerous processes is to make multitudes of observations, and out of these to select those only which agree, or very nearly agree. If a hundred observations are made, the cook must be very unlucky if he cannot pick out fifteen or twenty which will do for serving up.
Another approved receipt, when the observations to be used will not come within the limit of accuracy, which it has been resolved they shall possess, is to calculate them by two different formulae. The difference in the constants employed in those formulae has sometimes a most happy effect in promoting unanimity amongst discordant measures. If still greater accuracy is required, three or more formulae can be used.
It must be admitted that this receipt is in some instances rather hazardous: but in cases where the positions of stars, as given in different catalogues, occur, or different tables of specific gravities, specific heats, &c. &c., it may safely be employed. As no catalogue contains all stars, the computer must have recourse to several; and if he is obliged to use his judgment in the selection, it would be cruel to deny him any little advantage which might result from it. It may, however, be necessary to guard against one mistake into which persons might fall.
If an observer calculate particular stars from a catalogue which makes them accord precisely with the rest of his results, whereas, had they been computed from other catalogues the difference would have been considerable, it is very unfair to accuse him of COOKING; for—those catalogues may have been notoriously inaccurate; or—they may have been superseded by others more recent, or made with better instruments; or—the observer may have been totally ignorant of their existence.
It sometimes happens that the constant quantities in formulae given by the highest authorities, although they differ amongst themselves, yet they will not suit the materials. This is precisely the point in which the skill of the artist is shown; and an accomplished cook will carry himself triumphantly through it, provided happily some mean value of such constants will fit his observations. He will discuss the relative merits of formulae he has just knowledge enough to use; and, with admirable candour assigning their proper share of applause to Bessel, to Gauss, and to Laplace, he will take THAT mean value of the constant used by three such philosophers, which will make his own observations accord to a miracle.
There are some few reflections which I would venture to suggest to those who cook, although they may perhaps not receive the attention which, in my opinion, they deserve, from not coming from the pen of an adept.
In the first place, it must require much time to try different formulae. In the next place it may happen that, in the progress of human knowledge, more correct formula: may be discovered, and constants may be determined with far greater precision. Or it may be found that some physical circumstance influences the results, (although unsuspected at the time) the measure of which circumstance may perhaps be recovered from other contemporary registers of facts. [Imagine, by way of example, the state of the barometer or thermometer.] Or if the selection of observations has been made with the view of its agreeing precisely with the latest determination, there is some little danger that the average of the whole may differ from that of the chosen ones, owing to some law of nature, dependent on the interval between the two sets, which law some future philosopher may discover, and thus the very best observations may have been thrown aside.
In all these, and in numerous other cases, it would most probably happen that the cook would procure a temporary reputation for unrivalled accuracy at the expense of his permanent fame. It might also have the effect of rendering even all his crude observations of no value; for that part of the scientific world whose opinion is of most weight, is generally so unreasonable, as to neglect altogether the observations of those in whom they have, on any occasion, discovered traces of the artist. In fact, the character of an observer, as of a woman, if doubted is destroyed.
The manner in which facts apparently lost are restored to light, even after considerable intervals of time, is sometimes very unexpected, and a few examples may not be without their use. The thermometers employed by the philosophers who composed the Academia Del Cimento, have been lost; and as they did not use the two fixed points of freezing and boiling water, the results of a great mass of observations have remained useless from our ignorance of the value of a degree on their instrument. M. Libri, of Florence, proposed to regain this knowledge by comparing their registers of the temperature of the human body and of that of some warm springs in Tuscany, which have preserved their heat uniform during a century, as well as of other things similarly circumstanced.
Another illustration was pointed out to me by M. Gazzeri, the Professor of Chemistry at Florence. A few years ago an important suit in one of the legal courts of Tuscany depended on ascertaining whether a certain word had been erased by some chemical process from a deed then before the court. The party who insisted that an erasure had been made, availed themselves of the knowledge of M. Gazzeri, who, concluding that those who committed the fraud would be satisfied by the disappearance of the colouring matter of the ink, suspected (either from some colourless matter remaining in the letters, or perhaps from the agency of the solvent having weakened the fabric of the paper itself beneath the supposed letters) that the effect of the slow application of heat would be to render some difference of texture or of applied substance evident, by some variety in the shade of colour which heat in such circumstances might be expected to produce. Permission having been given to try the experiment, on the application of heat the important word reappeared, to the great satisfaction of the court.
One of the causes which has contributed to the success of the PARTY, is to be found in the great reluctance with which many of those whose names added lustre to the Society expressed their opinions, and the little firmness with which they maintained their objections. How many times have those whose activity was additionally stimulated by their interest, proposed measures which a few words might have checked; whilst the names of those whose culpable silence thus permitted the project to be matured, were immediately afterwards cited by their grateful coadjutors, as having sanctioned that which in their hearts they knew to be a job.
Even in the few cases which have passed the limits of such forbearance, when the subject has been debated in the Council, more than one, more than two instances are known, where subsequent circumstances have occurred, which proved, with the most irresistible moral evidence, that members have spoken on one side of the question, and have voted on the contrary.
This reluctance to oppose that which is disapproved, has been too extensively and too fatally prevalent for the interests of the Royal Society. It may partly be attributed to that reserved and retiring disposition, which frequently marks the man of real knowledge, as strongly as an officious interference and flippant manner do the charlatan, or the trader in science. Some portion of it is due to that improper deference which was long paid to every dictum of the President, and much of it to that natural indisposition to take trouble on any point in which a man's own interest is not immediately concerned. It is to be hoped, for the credit of that learned body, that no anticipation of the next feast of St. Andrew ever influenced the taciturnity of their disposition. [It may be necessary to inform those who are not members of the Royal Society, that this is the day on which those Fellows who choose, meet at Somerset House, to register the names of the Council and Officers the President has been pleased to appoint for the ensuing year; and who afterwards dine together, for the purpose of praising each other over wine, which, until within these few years, was PAID for out of the FUNDS of the Society. This abuse was attacked by an enterprising reformer, and of course defended by the coterie. It was, however, given up as too bad. The public may form some idea of the feeling which prevails in the Council, when they are informed that this practice was defended by one of the officers of the Society, on the ground that, if abolished, THE ASSISTANT SECRETARY WOULD LOSE HIS PERCENTAGE ON THE TAVERN BILLS.]
The days in which the Royal Society can have much influence in science seem long past; nor does it appear a matter of great importance who conduct its mismanaged affairs. Perpetual Presidents have been tried until the Society has become disgusted with dictators. If any reform should be attempted, it might perhaps be deserving consideration whether the practice of several of the younger institutions might not be worthy imitation, and the office of President be continued only during two sessions. There may be some inconveniences attending this arrangement; but the advantages are conspicuous, both in the Astronomical and Geological Societies. Each President is ambitious of rendering the period of his reign remarkable for some improvement in the Society over which he presides; and the sacrifice of time which is made by the officers of those Societies, would become impossible if it were required to be continued for a much longer period. Another circumstance of considerable importance is, that the personal character of the President is less impressed on the Society; and, supposing any injudicious alterations to be made, it is much less difficult to correct them.
IN THE ROYAL SOCIETY.
The honour of belonging to the Royal Society is much sought after by medical men, as contributing to the success of their professional efforts, and two consequences result from it. In the first place, the pages of the Transactions of the Royal Society occasionally contain medical papers of very moderate merit; and, in the second, the preponderance of the medical interest introduces into the Society some of the jealousies of that profession. On the other hand, medicine is intimately connected with many sciences, and its professors are usually too much occupied in their practice to exert themselves, except upon great occasions.
The Royal Institution was founded for the cultivation of the more popular and elementary branches of scientific knowledge, and has risen, partly from the splendid discoveries of Davy, and partly from the decline of the Royal Society, to a more prominent station than it would otherwise have occupied in the science of England. Its general effects in diffusing knowledge among the more educated classes of the metropolis, have been, and continue to be, valuable. Its influence, however, in the government of the Royal Society, is by no means attended with similar advantages, and has justly been viewed with considerable jealousy by many of the Fellows of that body. It may be stated, without disparagement to the Royal Institution, that the scientific qualifications necessary for its officers, however respectable, are not quite of that high order which ought to be required for those of the Royal Society, if the latter body were in a state of vigour.
The Royal Institution interest has always been sufficient to appoint one of the Secretaries of the Royal Society; and at the present moment they have appointed two. In a short time, unless some effectual check is put to this, we shall find them nominating the President and the rest of the officers. It is certainly not consistent with the dignity of the Royal Society thus to allow its offices to be given away as the rewards of services rendered to other institutions. The only effectual way to put a stop to this increasing interest would be, to declare that no manager or officer of the Royal Institution should ever, at the same time, hold office in the Royal Society.
The use the Members of the Royal Institution endeavour to make of their power in the Council of the Royal Society, is exemplified in the minutes of the Council of March 11, 1830, which may be consulted with advantage by those who doubt.
The Transactions of the Royal Society, unlike those of most foreign academies, contain nothing relating to the history of the Society. The volumes contain merely those papers communicated to the Society in the preceding year which the Council have selected for printing, a meteorological register, and a notice of the award of the annual medals, without any list of the Council and officers of the Society, by whom that selection and that award have been made.
Before I proceed to criticise this state of things, I will mention one point on which I am glad to be able to bestow on the Royal Society the highest praise. I refer to the extreme regularity with which the volumes of the Transactions are published. The appearance of the half-volumes at intervals of six months, insures for any communication almost immediate publicity; whilst the shortness of the time between its reception and publication, is a guarantee to the public that the whole of the paper was really communicated at the time it bears date. To this may also be added, the rarity of any alterations made previously to the printing, a circumstance which ought to be imitated, as well as admired, by other societies. There may, indeed, be some, perhaps the Geological, in which the task is more difficult, from the nature of the subject. The sooner, however, all societies can reduce themselves to this rule, of rarely allowing any thing but a few verbal corrections to papers that are placed in their hands, the better it will be for their own reputation, and for the interests of science.
It has been, and continues to be, a subject of deep regret, that the first scientific academy in Europe, the Institute of France, should be thus negligent in the regularity of its publications; and it is the more to be regretted, that it should be years in arrear, from the circumstance, that the memoirs admitted into their collection are usually of the highest merit. I know some of their most active members have wished it were otherwise; I would urge them to put a stop to a practice, which, whilst it has no advantages to recommend it, is unjust to those who contribute, and is only calculated to produce conflicting claims, equally injurious to science, and to the reputation of that body, whose negligence may have given rise to them. [Mr. Herschel, speaking of a paper of Fresnel's, observes—"This memoir was read to the Institute, 7th of October, 1816; a supplement was received, 19th of January, 1818; M. Arago's report on it was read, 4th of June, 1821: and while every optical philosopher in Europe has been impatiently expecting its appearance for seven years, it lies as yet unpublished, and is only known to us by meagre notices in a periodical journal." MR HERSCHEL'S TREATISE ON LIGHT, p. 533.—ENCYCLOPAEDIA METROPOLITANA.]
One of the inconveniences arising from having no historical portion in the volumes of the Royal Society is, that not only the public, but our own members are almost entirely ignorant of all its affairs. With a means of giving considerable publicity (by the circulation of above 800 copies of the Transactions) to whatever we wish to have made known to our members or to the world, will it be credited, that no notice was taken in our volume for 1826, of the foundation of two Royal medals, nor of the conditions under which they were to be distributed. [That the Council refrained from having their first award of those medals thus communicated, is rather creditable to them, and proves that they had a becoming feeling respecting their former errors.] That in 1828, when a new fund, called the donation fund, was established, and through the liberality of Dr. Wollaston and Mr. Davies Gilbert, it was endowed by them with the respective sums of 2,000L. and 1,000L. 3 per cents; no notice of such fact appears in our Transactions for 1829. Other gentlemen have contributed; and if it is desirable to possess such a fund, it is surely of importance to inform the non-attending, which is by far the largest part of the Society, that it exists; and that we are grateful to those by whom it has been founded and augmented. Neither did the Philosophical Transactions inform our absent members, that they could purchase the President's Discourses at the trade-price.
The list of the Officers, Council, and Members of the Royal Society is printed annually; yet, who ever saw it bound up with the Philosophical Transactions, to which it is intended to be attached? I never met with a single copy of that work so completed, not even the one in our own library. It is extremely desirable that the Society should know the names of their Council; and whilst it would in some measure contribute to prevent the President from placing incompetent persons upon it, it would also afford some check, although perhaps but a slight one, on the distribution of the medals. When I have urged the expediency of the practice, I have been answered by excuses, that the list could not be made up in time for the volume. If this is true of the first part, they might appear with the second; and even if this were impracticable, the plan of prefixing them to the volume of the succeeding year, would be preferable to that of omitting them altogether. The true reason, however, appeared at last. It was objected to the plan, that by the present arrangement, the porter of the Royal Society took round the list to those members resident in London, and got from some of them a remuneration, in the shape of a Christmas-box; and this would be lost, if the time of printing were changed. [During the printing of this chapter, a friend, on whom I had called, complained that the porter of the Royal Society had demanded half-a-crown for leaving the list.] Such are the paltry interests to which those of the Royal Society are made to bow.
Another point on which information ought to be given in each volume, is the conditions on which the distribution of the Society's medals are made. It is true that these are, or ought to be, printed with the Statutes of the Society; but that volume is only in the hands of members, and it is for the credit of the medals themselves, that the laws which regulate their award should be widely known, in order that persons, not members of the Society, might enter into competition for them.
Information relative to the admissions and deaths amongst the Society would also be interesting; a list of the names of those whom the Society had lost, and of those members who had been added to its ranks each year, would find a proper place in the historical pages which ought to be given with each volume of our Transactions.
The want of a distinction between the working members of the Society, and those who merely honour it with their patronage, renders many arrangements, which would be advantageous to science, in some cases, injudicious, and in other instances, almost impossible.
Collections of Observations which are from time to time given to the Society, may be of such a nature, that but few of the members are interested in them. In such cases, the expense of printing above 800 copies may reasonably induce the Council to decline printing them altogether; whereas, if they had any means of discrimination for distributing them, they might be quite willing to incur the expense of printing 250. Other cases may occur, in which great advantage would accrue, if the principle were once admitted. Government, the Universities, public bodies, and even individuals might, in some cases, be disposed to present to the Royal Society a limited number of copies of their works, if they knew that they were likely to be placed in the hands of persons who would use them. Fifty or a hundred additional copies might, in some cases, not be objected to on the ground of expense, when seven or eight hundred would be quite out of the question.
Let us suppose twenty copies of a description of some new chemical process to be placed at the disposal of the Royal Society by any public body; it will not surely be contended that they ought all to remain on the Society's shelves. Yet, with our present rules, that would be the case. If, however, the list of the Members of the Society were read over to the Council, and the names of those gentlemen known to be conversant with chemical science were written down; then, if nineteen copies of the work were given to those nineteen persons on this list, who had contributed most to the Transactions of the Society, they would in all probability be placed in the fittest hands.
Complete sets of the Philosophical Transactions have now become extremely bulky; it might be well worth our consideration, whether the knowledge of the many valuable papers they contain would not be much spread, by publishing the abstracts of them which have been read at the ordinary meetings of the Society. Perhaps two or three volumes octavo, would contain all that has been done in this way during the last century.
Another circumstance, which would contribute much to the order of the proceedings of the Council, would be to have a distinct list made out of all the statutes and orders of the Council relating to each particular subject.
Thus the President, by having at one view before him all that had ever been decreed on the question under consideration, would be much better able to prevent inconsistent resolutions, and to save the time of the Council from being wasted by unnecessary discussions.
Amongst the various proposals for encouraging science, the institution of an order of merit has been suggested. It is somewhat singular, that whilst in most of the other kingdoms of Europe, such orders exist for the purpose of rewarding, by honorary distinctions, the improvers of the arts of life, or successful discoverers in science, nothing of the kind has been established in England. [At the great meeting of the philosophers at Berlin, in 1828, of which an account is given in the Appendix; the respect in which Berzelius, Oersted, Gauss, and Humboldt were held in their respective countries was apparent in the orders bestowed on them by the Sovereigns of Sweden, of Denmark, of Hanover, and of Prussia; and there were present many other philosophers, whose decorations sufficiently attested the respect in which science was held in the countries from which they came.]
Our orders of knighthood are favourable only to military distinction. It has been urged, as an argument for such institutions, that they are a cheap mode of rewarding science, whilst, on the other hand, it has been objected, that they would diminish the value of such honorary distinctions by making them common. The latter objection is of little weight, because the numbers who pursue science are few, and, probably, will long continue so. It would also be easily avoided, by restricting the number of the order or of the class, if it were to form a peculiar class of another order. Another objection, however, appears to me to possess far greater weight; and, however strong the disposition of the Government might be (if such an order existed) to fill it properly, I do not believe that, in the present state of public opinion respecting science, it could be done, and, in all probability, it would be filled up through the channels of patronage, and by mere jobbers in science.
Another proposal, of a similar kind, has also been talked of, one which it may appear almost ridiculous to suggest in England, but which would be considered so in no other country. It is, to ennoble some of the greatest scientific benefactors of their country. Not to mention political causes, the ranks of the nobility are constantly recruited from the army, the navy, and the bar; why should not the family of that man, whose name is imperishably connected with the steam-engine, be enrolled amongst the nobility of his country? In utility and profit, not merely to that country, but to the human race, his deeds may proudly claim comparison even with the most splendid of those achieved by classes so rich in glorious recollections. An objection, in most cases fatal to such a course, arises from the impolicy of conferring a title, unless a considerable fortune exists to support it; a circumstance very rarely occurring to the philosopher. It might in some measure be removed, by creating such titles only for life. But here, again, until there existed some knowledge of science amongst the higher classes, and a sound state of public opinion relative to science, the execution of the plan could only be injurious.
This idea has occurred to several persons, as likely to lead to considerable advantages to science. If the various scientific societies could unite in the occupation of one large building, considerable economy would result from the union. By properly arranging their evenings of meeting, one meeting-room only need be required. The libraries might either be united, or arranged in adjoining rooms; and such a system would greatly facilitate the inquiries of scientific persons.
Whether it would be possible to reunite in any way the different societies to the Royal Society, might be a delicate question; but although, on some accounts, desirable, that event is not necessary for the purpose of their having a common residence.
The Medico-Botanical Society might, perhaps, from sympathy, be the first to which the Royal Society would apply; and by a proper interchange of diplomas, [A thing well understood by the INITIATED, both at HOME and ABROAD.] the two societies might be inoculated with each other. But even here some tact would be required; the Medico-Botanical is a little particular about the purity of its written documents, and lately attributed blame to one of its officers for some slight tampering with them, a degree of illiberality which the Council of the Royal Society are far from imitating.
The Geological and the Astronomical Societies nourish no feelings of resentment to the parent institution for their early persecution; and though they have no inducement to seek, would scarcely refuse any union which might be generally advantageous to science.
In a work on the Decline of Science, at a period when England has so recently lost two of its brightest ornaments, I should hardly be excused if I omitted to devote a few words to the names of Wollaston and of Davy. Until the warm feelings of surviving kindred and admiring friends shall be cold as the grave from which remembrance vainly recalls their cherished forms, invested with all the life and energy of recent existence, the volumes of their biography must be sealed. Their contemporaries can expect only to read their eloge.
In habits of intercourse with both those distinguished individuals, sufficiently frequent to mark the curiously different structure of their minds, I was yet not on such terms even with him I most esteemed, as to view his great qualities through that medium which is rarely penetrated by the eyes of long and very intimate friendship.
Caution and precision were the predominant features of the character of Wollaston, and those who are disposed to reduce the number of principles, would perhaps justly trace the precision which adorned his philosophical, to the extreme caution which pervaded his moral character. It may indeed be questioned whether the latter quality will not in all persons of great abilities produce the former.
Ambition constituted a far larger ingredient in the character of Davy, and with the daring hand of genius he grasped even the remotest conclusions to which a theory led him. He seemed to think invention a more common attribute than it really is, and hastened, as soon as he was in possession of a new fact or a new principle, to communicate it to the world, doubtful perhaps lest he might not be anticipated; but, confident in his own powers, he was content to give to others a chance of reaping some part of that harvest, the largest portion of which he knew must still fall to his own share.
Dr. Wollaston, on the other hand, appreciated more truly the rarity of the inventive faculty; and, undeterred by the fear of being anticipated, when he had contrived a new instrument, or detected a new principle, he brought all the information that he could collect from others, or which arose from his own reflection, to bear upon it for years, before he delivered it to the world.
The most singular characteristic of Wollaston's mind was the plain and distinct line which separated what he knew from what he did not know; and this again, arising from his precision, might be traced to caution.
It would, however, have been visible to such an extent in few except himself, for there were very few so perfectly free from vanity and affectation. To this circumstance may be attributed a peculiarity of manner in the mode in which he communicated information to those who sought it from him, which was to many extremely disagreeable. He usually, by a few questions, ascertained precisely how much the inquirer knew upon the subject, or the exact point at which his ignorance commenced, a process not very agreeable to the vanity of mankind; taking up the subject at this point, he would then very clearly and shortly explain it.
His acquaintance with mathematics was very limited. Many years since, when I was an unsuccessful candidate for a professorship of mathematics, I applied to Dr. W. for a recommendation; he declined it, on the ground of its not being his pursuit. I told him I asked it, because I thought it would have weight, to which he replied, that it ought to have none whatever. There is no doubt his view was the just one. Yet such is the state of ignorance which exists on these subjects, that I have several times heard him mentioned as one of the greatest mathematicians of the age. [This of course could only have happened in England.] But in this as in all other points, the precision with which he comprehended and retained all he had ever learned, especially of the elementary applications of mathematics to physics, was such, that he possessed greater command over those subjects than many of far more extensive knowledge.
In associating with Wollaston, you perceived that the predominant principle was to avoid error; in the society of Davy, you saw that it was the desire to see and make known truth. Wollaston never could have been a poet; Davy might have been a great one.
A question which I put, successively, to each of these distinguished philosophers, will show how very differently a subject may be viewed by minds even of the highest order.
About the time Mr. Perkins was making his experiments on the compression of water, I was much struck with the mechanical means he had brought to bear on the subject, and was speculating on other applications of it, which I will presently mention.
Meeting Dr. Wollaston one morning in the shop of a bookseller, I proposed this question: If two volumes of hydrogen and one of oxygen are mixed together in a vessel, and if by mechanical pressure they can be so condensed as to become of the same specific gravity as water, will the gases under these circumstances unite and form water? "What do you think they will do?" said Dr. W. I replied, that I should rather expect they would unite. "I see no reason to suppose it," said he. I then inquired whether he thought the experiment worth making. He answered, that he did not, for that he should think it would certainly not succeed.
A few days after, I proposed the same question to Sir Humphry Davy. He at once said, "they will become water, of course;" and on my inquiring whether he thought the experiment worth making, he observed that it was a good experiment, but one which it was hardly necessary to make, as it must succeed.
These were off-hand answers, which it might perhaps be hardly fair to have recorded, had they been of persons of less eminent talent: and it adds to the curiosity of the circumstance to mention, that I believe Dr. Wollaston's reason for supposing no union would take place, arose from the nature of the electrical relations of the two gases remaining unchanged, an objection which did not weigh with the philosopher whose discoveries had given birth to it.
[The result of the experiment appeared, and still appears to me, to be of the highest importance; and I will shortly state the views with which it was connected. The next great discovery in chemistry to definite proportions, will be to find means of forming all the simple unions of one atom with one, with two, or with more of say other substance: and it occurred to me that the gaseous bodies presented the fairest chance of success; and that if wishing, for instance, to unite four atoms of one substance with one of another, we could, by mechanical means, reduce the mixed gases to the same specific gravity as the substance would possess which resulted from their union, then either that such union would actually take place, or the particles of the two substances would be most favourably situated for the action of caloric, electricity, or other causes, to produce the combination. It would indeed seem to follow, that if combination should take place under such circumstances, then the most probable proportion in which the atoms would unite, should be that which furnished a fluid of the least specific gravity: but until the experiments are made, it is by no means certain that other combinations might not be produced.]
The singular minuteness of the particles of bodies submitted by Dr. Wollaston to chemical analysis, has excited the admiration of all those who have had the good fortune to witness his experiments; and the methods he employed deserve to be much more widely known.
It appears to me that a great mistake exists on the subject. It has been adduced as one of those facts which prove the extraordinary acuteness of the bodily senses of the individual,—a circumstance which, if it were true, would add but little to his philosophical character; I am, however, inclined to view it in a far different light, and to see in it one of the natural results of the admirable precision of his knowledge.
During the many opportunities I have enjoyed of seeing his minute experiments, I remember but one instance in which I noticed any remarkable difference in the acuteness of his bodily faculties, either of his hearing, his sight, or of his sense of smell, from those of other persons who possessed them in a good degree. [This was at Mr. South's observatory, and the object was, the dots on the declination circle of his equatorial; but, in this instance, Dr. Wollaston did not attempt to TEACH ME HOW TO SEE THEM.]
He never showed me an almost microscopic wire, which was visible to his, and invisible to my own eye: even in the beautiful experiments he made relative to sounds inaudible to certain ears, he never produced a tone which was unheard by mine, although sensible to his ear; and I believe this will be found to have been the case by most of those whose minds had been much accustomed to experimental inquiries, and who possessed their faculties unimpaired by illness or by age.
It was a much more valuable property on which the success of such inquiries depended. It arose from the perfect attention which he could command, and the minute precision with which he examined every object. A striking illustration of the fact that an object is frequently not seen, FROM NOT KNOWING HOW TO SEE IT, rather than from any defect in the organ of vision, occurred to me some years since, when on a visit at Slough. Conversing with Mr. Herschel on the dark lines seen in the solar spectrum by Fraunhofer, he inquired whether I had seen them; and on my replying in the negative, and expressing a great desire to see them, he mentioned the extreme difficulty he had had, even with Fraunhofer's description in his hand and the long time which it had cost him in detecting them. My friend then added, "I will prepare the apparatus, and put you in such a position that they shall be visible, and yet you shall look for them and not find them: after which, while you remain in the same position, I will instruct you how to see them, and you shall see them, and not merely wonder you did not see them before, but you shall find it impossible to look at the spectrum without seeing them."
On looking as I was directed, notwithstanding the previous warning, I did not see them; and after some time I inquired how they might be seen, when the prediction of Mr. Herschel was completely fulfilled.
It was this attention to minute phenomena which Dr. Wollaston applied with such powerful effect to chemistry. In the ordinary cases of precipitation the cloudiness is visible in a single drop as well as in a gallon of a solution; and in those cases where the cloudiness is so slight, as to require a mass of fluid to render it visible, previous evaporation, quickly performed on slips of window glass, rendered the solution more concentrated.
The true value of this minute chemistry arises from its cheapness and the extreme rapidity with which it can be accomplished: it may, in hands like those of Wollaston, be used for discovery, but not for measure. I have thought it more necessary to place this subject on what I consider its true grounds, for two reasons. In the first place, I feel that injustice has been done to a distinguished philosopher in attributing to some of his bodily senses that excellence which I think is proved to have depended on the admirable training of his intellectual faculties. And, in the next place, if I have established the fact, whilst it affords us better means of judging of such observations as lay claim to an accuracy "MORE THAN HUMAN," it also opens, to the patient inquirer into truth, a path by which he may acquire powers that he would otherwise have thought were only the gift of nature to a favoured few.