CONVERSATION I.
ON THE GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF CHEMISTRY.

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MRS. B.

AS you have now acquired some elementary notions of Natural Philosophy, I am going to propose to you another branch of science, to which I am particularly anxious that you should devote a share of your attention. This is Chemistry, which is so closely connected with Natural Philosophy, that the study of the one must be incomplete without some knowledge of the other; for, it is obvious that we can derive but a very imperfect idea of bodies from the study of the general laws by which they are governed, if we remain totally ignorant of their intimate nature.

CAROLINE.

To confess the truth, Mrs. B., I am not disposed to form a very favourable idea of chemistry, nor do I expect to derive much entertainment from it. I prefer the sciences which exhibit nature on a grand scale, to those that are confined to the minutiæ of petty details. Can the studies which we have lately pursued, the general properties of matter, or the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, be compared to the mixing up of a few insignificant drugs? I grant, however, there may be entertaining experiments in chemistry, and should not dislike to try some of them: the distilling, for instance, of lavender, or rose water . . . . . .

MRS. B.

I rather imagine, my dear Caroline, that your want of taste for chemistry proceeds from the very limited idea you entertain of its object. You confine the chemist’s laboratory to the narrow precincts of the apothecary’s and perfumer’s shops, whilst it is subservient to an immense variety of other useful purposes. Besides, my dear, chemistry is by no means confined to works of art. Nature also has her laboratory, which is the universe, and there she is incessantly employed in chemical operations. You are surprised, Caroline, but I assure you that the most wonderful and the most interesting phenomena of nature are almost all of them produced by chemical powers. What Bergman, in the introduction to his history of chemistry, has said of this science, will give you a more just and enlarged idea of it. The knowledge of nature may be divided, he observes, into three periods. The first was that in which the attention of men was occupied in learning the external forms and characters of objects, and this is called Natural History. In the second, they considered the effects of bodies acting on each other by their mechanical power, as their weight and motion, and this constitutes the science of Natural Philosophy. The third period is that in which the properties and mutual action of the elementary parts of bodies was investigated. This last is the science of Chemistry, and I have no doubt you will soon agree with me in thinking it the most interesting.

You may easily conceive, therefore, that without entering into the minute details of practical chemistry, a woman may obtain such a knowledge of the science as will not only throw an interest on the common occurrences of life, but will enlarge the sphere of her ideas, and render the contemplation of nature a source of delightful instruction.

CAROLINE.

If this is the case, I have certainly been much mistaken in the notion I had formed of chemistry. I own that I thought it was chiefly confined to the knowledge and preparation of medicines.

MRS. B.

That is only a branch of chemistry which is called Pharmacy; and, though the study of it is certainly of great importance to the world at large, it belongs exclusively to professional men, and is therefore the last that I should advise you to pursue.

EMILY.

But, did not the chemists formerly employ themselves in search of the philosopher’s stone, or the secret of making gold?

MRS. B.

These were a particular set of misguided philosophers, who dignified themselves with the name of Alchemists, to distinguish their pursuits from those of the common chemists, whose studies were confined to the knowledge of medicines.

But, since that period, chemistry has undergone so complete a revolution, that, from an obscure and mysterious art, it is now become a regular and beautiful science, to which art is entirely subservient. It is true, however, that we are indebted to the alchemists for many very useful discoveries, which sprung from their fruitless attempts to make gold, and which, undoubtedly, have proved of infinitely greater advantage to mankind than all their chimerical pursuits.

The modern chemists, instead of directing their ambition to the vain attempt of producing any of the original substances in nature, rather aim at analysing and imitating her operations, and have sometimes succeeded in forming combinations, or effecting decompositions, no instances of which occur in the chemistry of Nature. They have little reason to regret their inability to make gold, whilst, by their innumerable inventions and discoveries, they have so greatly stimulated industry and facilitated labour, as prodigiously to increase the luxuries as well as the necessaries of life.

EMILY.

But, I do not understand by what means chemistry can facilitate labour; is not that rather the province of the mechanic?

MRS. B.

There are many ways by which labour may be rendered more easy, independently of mechanics; but even the machine, the most wonderful in its effects, the Steam-engine, cannot be understood without the assistance of chemistry. In agriculture, a chemical knowledge of the nature of soils, and of vegetation, is highly useful; and, in those arts which relate to the comforts and conveniences of life, it would be endless to enumerate the advantages which result from the study of this science.

CAROLINE.

But, pray, tell us more precisely in what manner the discoveries of chemists have proved so beneficial to society?

MRS. B.

That would be an injudicious anticipation; for you would not comprehend the nature of such discoveries and useful applications, as well as you will do hereafter. Without a due regard to method, we cannot expect to make any progress in chemistry. I wish to direct your observations chiefly to the chemical operations of Nature; but those of Art are certainly of too high importance to pass unnoticed. We shall therefore allow them also some share of our attention.

EMILY.

Well, then, let us now set to work regularly. I am very anxious to begin.

MRS. B.

The object of chemistry is to obtain a knowledge of the intimate nature of bodies, and of their mutual action on each other. You find therefore, Caroline, that this is no narrow or confined science, which comprehends every thing material within our sphere.

CAROLINE.

On the contrary, it must be inexhaustible; and I am a loss to conceive how any proficiency can be made in a science whose objects are so numerous.

MRS. B.

If every individual substance were formed of different materials, the study of chemistry would, indeed, be endless; but you must observe that the various bodies in nature are composed of certain elementary principles, which are not very numerous.

CAROLINE.

Yes; I know that all bodies are composed of fire, air, earth, and water; I learnt that many years ago.

MRS. B.

But you must now endeavour to forget it. I have already informed you what a great change chemistry has undergone since it has become a regular science. Within these thirty years especially, it has experienced an entire revolution, and it is now proved, that neither fire, air, earth, nor water, can be called elementary bodies. For an elementary body is one that has never been decomposed, that is to say, separated into other substances; and fire, air, earth, and water, are all of them susceptible of decomposition.

EMILY.

I thought that decomposing a body was dividing it into its minutest parts. And if so, I do not understand why an elementary substance is not capable of being decomposed, as well as any other.

MRS. B.

You have misconceived the idea of decomposition; it is very different from mere division. The latter simply reduces a body into parts, but the former separates it into the various ingredients, or materials, of which it is composed. If we were to take a loaf of bread, and separate the several ingredients of which it is made, the flour, the yeast, the salt, and the water, it would be very different from cutting or crumbling the loaf into pieces.

EMILY.

I understand you now very well. To decompose a body is to separate from each other the various elementary substances of which it consists.

CAROLINE.

But flour, water, and other materials of bread, according to our definition, are not elementary substances?

MRS. B.

No, my dear; I mentioned bread rather as a familiar comparison, to illustrate the idea, than as an example.

The elementary substances of which a body is composed are called the constituent parts of that body; in decomposing it, therefore, we separate its constituent parts. If, on the contrary, we divide a body by chopping it to pieces, or even by grinding or pounding it to the finest powder, each of these small particles will still consist of a portion of the several constituent parts of the whole body: these are called the integrant parts; do you understand the difference?

EMILY.

Yes, I think, perfectly. We decompose a body into its constituent parts; and divide it into its integrant parts.

MRS. B.

Exactly so. If therefore a body consists of only one kind of substance, though it may be divided into its integrant parts, it is not possible to decompose it. Such bodies are therefore called simple or elementary, as they are the elements of which all other bodies are composed. Compound bodies are such as consist of more than one of these elementary principles.

CAROLINE.

But do not fire, air, earth, and water, consist, each of them, but of one kind of substance?

MRS. B.

No, my dear; they are every one of them susceptible of being separated into various simple bodies. Instead of four, chemists now reckon upwards of forty elementary substances. The existence of most of these is established by the clearest experiments; but, in regard to a few of them, particularly the most subtle agents of nature, heat, light, and electricity, there is yet much uncertainty, and I can only give you the opinion which seems most probably deduced from the latest discoveries. After I have given you a list of the elementary bodies, classed according to their properties, we shall proceed to examine each of them separately, and then consider them in their combinations with each other.

Excepting the more general agents of nature, heat, light, and electricity, it would seem that the simple form of bodies is that of a metal.

CAROLINE.

You astonish me! I thought the metals were only one class of minerals, and that there were besides, earths, stones, rocks, acids, alkalies, vapours, fluids, and the whole of the animal and vegetable kingdoms.

MRS. B.

You have made a tolerably good enumeration, though I fear not arranged in the most scientific order. All these bodies, however, it is now strongly believed, may be ultimately resolved into metallic substances. Your surprise at this circumstance is not singular, as the decomposition of some of them, which has been but lately accomplished, has excited the wonder of the whole philosophical world.

But to return to the list of simple bodies—these being usually found in combination with oxygen, I shall class them according to their properties when so combined. This will, I think, facilitate their future investigation.

EMILY.

Pray what is oxygen?

MRS. B.

A simple body; at least one that is supposed to be so, as it has never been decomposed. It is always found united with the negative electricity. It will be one of the first of the elementary bodies whose properties I shall explain to you, and, as you will soon perceive, it is one of the most important in nature; but it would be irrelevant to enter upon this subject at present. We must now confine our attention to the enumeration and classification of the simple bodies in general. They may be arranged as follows:

CLASS I.

Comprehending the imponderable agents, viz.

CLASS II.

Comprehending agents capable of uniting with inflammable bodies, and in most instances of effecting their combustion.

CLASS III.

Comprehending bodies capable of uniting with oxygen, and, forming with it various compounds. This class may be divided as follows:

DIVISION 1.

DIVISION 2.

Bodies forming acids.

NITROGEN,	forming nitric acid.
SULPHUR,	forming sulphuric acid.
PHOSPHORUS,	forming phosphoric acid.
CARBON,	forming carbonic acid.
BORACIUM,	forming boracic acid.
FLUORIUM,	forming fluoric acid.
MURIATIUM,	forming muriatic acid.

DIVISION 3.

Metallic bodies forming alkalies.

POTASSIUM,	forming potash.
SODIUM,	forming soda.
AMMONIUM,	forming ammonia.

DIVISION 4.

Metallic bodies forming earths.

CALCIUM,	or metal forming lime.
MAGNIUM,	forming magnesia.
BARIUM,	forming barytes.
STRONTIUM,	forming strontites.
SILICIUM,	forming silex.
ALUMIUM,	forming alumine.
YTTRIUM,	forming yttria.
GLUCIUM,	forming glucina.
ZIRCONIUM,	forming zirconi.*

DIVISION 5.

Metals, either naturally metallic, or yielding their oxygen to carbon or to heat alone.

Subdivision 1.

Malleable Metals.

Subdiv. 2.

Brittle Metals.

CAROLINE.

Oh, what a formidable list! You will have much to do to explain it, Mrs. B.; for I assure you it is perfectly unintelligible to me, and I think rather perplexes than assists me.

MRS. B.

Do not let that alarm you, my dear; I hope that hereafter this classification will appear quite clear, and, so far from perplexing you, will assist you in arranging your ideas. It would be in vain to attempt forming a division that would appear perfectly clear to a beginner: for you may easily conceive that a chemical division being necessarily founded on properties with which you are almost wholly unacquainted, it is impossible that you should at once be able to understand its meaning or appreciate its utility.

But, before we proceed further, it will be necessary to give you some idea of chemical attraction, a power on which the whole science depends.

Chemical Attraction, or the Attraction of Composition, consists in the peculiar tendency which bodies of a different nature have to unite with each other. It is by this force that all the compositions, and decompositions, are effected.

EMILY.

What is the difference between chemical attraction, and the attraction of cohesion, or of aggregation, which you often mentioned to us, in former conversations?

MRS. B.

The attraction of cohesion exists only between particles of the same nature, whether simple or compound; thus it unites the particles of a piece of metal which is a simple substance, and likewise the particles of a loaf of bread which is a compound. The attraction of composition, on the contrary, unites and maintains, in a state of combination, particles of a dissimilar nature; it is this power that forms each of the compound particles of which bread consists; and it is by the attraction of cohesion that all these particles are connected into a single mass.

EMILY.

The attraction of cohesion, then, is the power which unites the integrant particles of a body: the attraction of composition that which combines the constituent particles. Is it not so?

MRS. B.

Precisely: and observe that the attraction of cohesion unites particles of a similar nature, without changing their original properties; the result of such an union, therefore, is a body of the same kind as the particles of which it is formed; whilst the attraction of composition, by combining particles of a dissimilar nature, produces compound bodies, quite different from any of their constituents. If, for instance, I pour on the piece of copper, contained in this glass, some of this liquid (which is called nitric acid), for which it has a strong attraction, every particle of the copper will combine with a particle of acid, and together they will form a new body, totally different from either the copper or the acid.

Do you observe the internal commotion that already begins to take place? It is produced by the combination of these two substances; and yet the acid has in this case to overcome not only the resistance which the strong cohesion of the particles of copper opposes to their combination with it, but also to overcome the weight of the copper, which makes it sink to the bottom of the glass, and prevents the acid from having such free access to it as it would if the metal were suspended in the liquid.

EMILY.

The acid seems, however, to overcome both these obstacles without difficulty, and appears to be very rapidly dissolving the copper.

MRS. B.

By this means it reduces the copper into more minute parts than could possibly be done by any mechanical power. But as the acid can act only on the surface of the metal, it will be some time before the union of these two bodies will be completed.

You may, however, already see how totally different this compound is from either of its ingredients. It is neither colourless, like the acid, nor hard, heavy, and yellow like the copper. If you tasted it, you would no longer perceive the sourness of the acid. It has at present the appearance of a blue liquid; but when the union is completed, and the water with which the acid is diluted is evaporated, the compound will assume the form of regular crystals, of a fine blue colour, and perfectly transparent*. Of these I can shew you a specimen, as I have prepared some for that purpose.

CAROLINE.

How very beautiful they are, in colour, form, and transparency!

EMILY.

Nothing can be more striking than this example of chemical attraction.

MRS. B.

The term attraction has been lately introduced into chemistry as a substitute for the word affinity, to which some chemists have objected, because it originated in the vague notion that chemical combinations depended upon a certain resemblance, or relationship, between particles that are disposed to unite; and this idea is not only imperfect, but erroneous, as it is generally particles of the most dissimilar nature, that have the greatest tendency to combine.

CAROLINE.

Besides, there seems to be no advantage in using a variety of terms to express the same meaning; on the contrary it creates confusion; and as we are well acquainted with the term Attraction in natural philosophy, we had better adopt it in chemistry likewise.

MRS. B.

If you have a clear idea of the meaning, I shall leave you at liberty to express it in the terms you prefer. For myself, I confess that I think the word Attraction best suited to the general law that unites the integrant particles of bodies; and Affinity better adapted to that which combines the constituent particles, as it may convey an idea of the preference which some bodies have for others, which the term attraction of composition does not so well express.

EMILY.

So I think; for though that preference may not result from any relationship, or similitude, between the particles (as you say was once supposed), yet, as it really exists, it ought to be expressed.

MRS. B.

Well, let it be agreed that you may use the terms affinity, chemical attraction and attraction of composition, indifferently, provided you recollect that they have all the same meaning.

EMILY.

I do not conceive how bodies can be decomposed by chemical attraction. That this power should be the means of composing them, is very obvious; but that it should, at the same time, produce exactly the contrary effect, appears to me very singular.

MRS. B.

To decompose a body is, you know, to separate its constituent parts, which, as we have just observed, cannot be done by mechanical means.

EMILY.

No: because mechanical means separate only the integrant particles; they act merely against the attraction of cohesion, and only divide a compound into smaller parts.

MRS. B.

The decomposition of a body is performed by chemical powers. If you present to a body composed of two principles, a third, which has a greater affinity for one of them than the two first have for each other, it will be decomposed, that is, its two principles will be separated by means of the third body. Let us call two ingredients, of which the body is composed, A and B. If we present to it another ingredient C, which has a greater affinity for B than that which unites A and B, it necessarily follows that B will quit A to combine with C. The new ingredient, therefore, has effected a decomposition of the original body A B; A has been left alone, and a new compound, B C, has been formed.

EMILY.

We might, I think, use the comparison of two friends, who were very happy in each other’s society, till a third disunited them by the preference which one of them gave to the new-comer.

MRS. B.

Very well. I shall now show you how this takes place in chemistry.

Let us suppose that we wish to decompose the compound we have just formed by the combination of the two ingredients, copper and nitric acid; we may do this by presenting to it a piece of iron, for which the acid has a stronger attraction than for copper; the acid will, consequently, quit the copper to combine with the iron, and the copper will be what the chemists call precipitated, that is to say, it will be thrown down in its separate state, and reappear in its simple form.

In order to produce this effect, I shall dip the blade of this knife into the fluid, and, when I take it out, you will observe, that, instead of being wetted with a bluish liquid, like that contained in the glass, it will be covered with a thin coat of copper.

CAROLINE.

So it is really! but then is it not the copper, instead of the acid, that has combined with the iron blade?

MRS. B.

No; you are deceived by appearances: it is the acid which combines with the iron, and, in so doing, deposits or precipitates the copper on the surface of the blade.

EMILY.

But, cannot three or more substances combine together, without any of them being precipitated?

MRS. B.

That is sometimes the case; but, in general, the stronger affinity destroys the weaker; and it seldom happens that the attraction of several substances for each other is so equally balanced as to produce such complicated compounds.

CAROLINE.

But, pray, Mrs. B., what is the cause of the chemical attraction of bodies for each other? It appears to me more extraordinary or unnatural, if I may use the expression, than the attraction of cohesion, which unites particles of a similar nature.

MRS. B.

Chemical attraction may, like that of cohesion or gravitation, be one of the powers inherent in matter which, in our present state of knowledge, admits of no other satisfactory explanation than an immediate reference to a divine cause. Sir H. Davy, however, whose important discoveries have opened such improved views in chemistry, has suggested an hypothesis which may throw great light upon that science. He supposes that there are two kinds of electricity, with one or other of which all bodies are united. These we distinguish by the names of positive and negative electricity; those bodies are disposed to combine, which possess opposite electricities, as they are brought together by the attraction which these electricities have for each other. But, whether this hypothesis be altogether founded on truth or not, it is impossible to question the great influence of electricity in chemical combinations.

EMILY.

So, that we must suppose that the two electricities always attract each other, and thus compel the bodies in which they exist to combine?

CAROLINE.

And may not this be also the cause of the attraction of cohesion?

MRS. B.

No, for in particles of the same nature the same electricities must prevail, and it is only the different or opposite electric fluids that attract each other.

CAROLINE.

These electricities seem to me to be a kind of chemical spirit, which animates the particles of bodies, and draws them together.

EMILY.

If it is known, then, with which of the electricities bodies are united, it can be inferred which will, and which will not, combine together?

MRS. B.

Certainly.—I should not omit to mention, that some doubts have been entertained whether electricity be really a material agent, or whether it might not be a power inherent in bodies, similar to, or, perhaps identical with, attraction.

EMILY.

But what then would be the electric spark which is visible, and must therefore be really material?

MRS. B.

What we call the electric spark, may, Sir H. Davy says, be merely the heat and light, or fire produced by the chemical combinations with which these phenomena are always connected. We will not, however, enter more fully on this important subject at present, but reserve the principal facts which relate to it to a future conversation.

Before we part, however, I must recommend you to fix in your memory the names of the simple bodies, against our next interview.

CONVERSATION II.
ON LIGHT AND HEAT OR CALORIC.

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CAROLINE.

We have learned by heart the names of all the simple bodies which you have enumerated, and we are now ready to enter on the examination of each of them successively. You will begin, I suppose, with LIGHT?

MRS. B.

Respecting the nature of light we have little more than conjectures. It is considered by most philosophers as a real substance, immediately emanating from the sun, and from all luminous bodies, from which it is projected in right lines with prodigious velocity. Light, however, being imponderable, it cannot be confined and examined by itself; and therefore it is to the effects it produces on other bodies, rather than to its immediate nature, that we must direct our attention.

The connection between light and heat is very obvious; indeed, it is such, that it is extremely difficult to examine the one independently of the other.

EMILY.

But, is it possible to separate light from heat; I thought they were only different degrees of the same thing, fire?

MRS. B.

I told you that fire was not now considered as a simple element. Whether light and heat be altogether different agents, or not, I cannot pretend to decide; but, in many cases, light may be separated from heat. The first discovery of this was made by a celebrated Swedish chemist, Scheele. Another very striking illustration of the separation of heat and light was long after pointed out by Dr. Herschell. This philosopher discovered that these two agents were emitted in the rays of the sun, and that heat was less refrangible than light; for, in separating the different coloured rays of light by a prism (as we did some time ago), he found that the greatest heat was beyond the spectrum, at a little distance from the red rays, which, you may recollect, are the least refrangible.

EMILY.

I should like to try that experiment.

MRS. B.

It is by no means an easy one: the heat of a ray of light, refracted by a prism, is so small, that it requires a very delicate thermometer to distinguish the difference of the degree of heat within and without the spectrum. For in this experiment the heat is not totally separated from the light, each coloured ray retaining a certain portion of it, though the greatest part is not sufficiently refracted to fall within the spectrum.

EMILY.

I suppose, then, that those coloured rays which are the least refrangible, retain the greatest quantity of heat?

MRS. B.

They do so.

EMILY.

Though I no longer doubt that light and heat can be separated, Dr. Herschell’s experiment does not appear to me to afford sufficient proof that they are essentially different; for light, which you call a simple body, may likewise be divided into the various coloured rays.

MRS. B.

No doubt there must be some difference in the various coloured rays. Even their chemical powers are different. The blue rays, for instance, have the greatest effect in separating oxygen from bodies, as was found by Scheele; and there exist also, as Dr. Wollaston has shown, rays more refrangible than the blue, which produce the same chemical effect, and, what is very remarkable, are invisible.

EMILY.

Do you think it possible that heat may be merely a modification of light?

MRS. B.

That is a supposition which, in the present state of natural philosophy, can neither be positively affirmed nor denied. Let us, therefore, instead of discussing theoretical points, be contented with examining what is known respecting the chemical effects of light.

Light is capable of entering into a kind of transitory union with certain substances, and this is what has been called phosphorescence. Bodies that are possessed of this property, after being exposed to the sun’s rays, appear luminous in the dark. The shells of fish, the bones of land animals, marble, limestone, and a variety of combinations of earths, are more or less powerfully phosphorescent.

CAROLINE.

I remember being much surprised last summer with the phosphorescent appearance of some pieces of rotten wood, which had just been dug out of the ground; they shone so bright that I at first supposed them to be glow-worms.

EMILY.

And is not the light of a glow-worm of a phosphorescent nature?

MRS. B.

It is a very remarkable instance of phosphorescence in living animals; this property, however, is not exclusively possessed by the glow-worm. The insect called the lanthorn-fly, which is peculiar to warm climates, emits light as it flies, producing in the dark a remarkably sparkling appearance. But it is more common to see animal matter in a dead state possessed of a phosphorescent quality; sea fish is often eminently so.

EMILY.

I have heard that the sea has sometimes had the appearance of being illuminated, and that the light is supposed to proceed from the spawn of fishes floating on its surface.

MRS. B.

This light is probably owing to that or some other animal matter. Sea water has been observed to become luminous from the substance of a fresh herring having been immersed in it; and certain insects, of the Medusa kind, are known to produce similar effects.

But the strongest phosphorescence is produced by chemical compositions prepared for the purpose, the most common of which consists of oyster shells and sulphur, and is known by the name of Canton’s Phosphorus.

EMILY.

I am rather surprised, Mrs. B., that you should have said so much of the light emitted by phosphorescent bodies without taking any notice of that which is produced by burning bodies.

MRS. B.

The light emitted by the latter is so intimately connected with the chemical history of combustion, that I must defer all explanation of it till we come to the examination of that process, which is one of the most interesting in chemical science.

Light is an agent capable of producing various chemical changes. It is essential to the welfare both of the animal and vegetable kingdoms; for men and plants grow pale and sickly if deprived of its salutary influence. It is likewise remarkable for its property of destroying colour, which renders it of great consequence in the process of bleaching.

EMILY.

Is it not singular that light, which in studying optics we were taught to consider as the source and origin of colours, should have also the power of destroying them?

CAROLINE.

It is a fact, however, that we every day experience; you know how it fades the colours of linens and silks.

EMILY.

Certainly. And I recollect that endive is made to grow white instead of green, by being covered up so as to exclude the light. But by what means does light produce these effects?

MRS. B.

This I cannot attempt to explain to you until you have obtained a further knowledge of chemistry. As the chemical properties of light can be accounted for only in their reference to compound bodies, it would be useless to detain you any longer on this subject; we may therefore pass on to the examination of heat, or caloric, with which we are somewhat better acquainted.

Heat and Light may be always distinguished by the different sensations they produce, Light affects the sense of sight; Caloric that of feeling; the one produces Vision, the other the sensation of Heat.

Caloric is found to exist in a variety of forms or modifications, and I think it will be best to consider it under the two following heads, viz.