Introduction
From the outset, chemistry did not fit easily into the traditional scheme of knowledge, as it encompassed both a practical and a theoretical dimension. Therefore, its relationship to medicine and natural philosophy was a matter of dispute for a long time. Chemistry was not included in university curricula and its practitioners were often regarded as unlearned empirics. The recognition of chemistry as an independent discipline took more than a century and faced both social and intellectual opposition (Meinel Reference Meinel1983). In his influential book, The Chemists and the Word, Owen Hannaway maintains that “chemistry achieved in the seventeenth century sufficient coherence and identity to sustain a vigorous and ongoing didactic tradition, which gained for it remarkably early recognition as a unique discipline and activity” (Hannaway Reference Hannaway1975, ix). According to Hannaway, the emergence of chemistry as a didactic discipline was the outcome of Andreas Libavius’ effort to give chemistry clarity, order, and organization. Libavius did this by castigating the Paracelsians’ chemical philosophy, their theories, and their obscure terminology. Hannaway has shown how Libavius endeavored to reform chemistry, and made clear that Libavius’ works inspired some early chemical texts, as, for instance, Jean Beguin's Tyrocinium. Hannaway argued that rejecting Paracelsian ideology was a precondition for securing acceptance for chemistry as an independent discipline. He wrote, “This I believe will make clear that chemistry conceived as a discipline was something radically different from the chemical philosophy of the Paracelsians” (ibid., xi). This argument is less convincing, for the transition was more twisted than Hannaway maintained (Golinski Reference Golinski, Lindberg and Westman1990, 374). On the basis of Moran's recent studies, it is apparent that Libavius’ views of chemistry were rather nuanced. Libavius rejected the Paracelsians’ view of chemistry, yet he argued that “Medicine needed chymistry more than chymistry needed medicine . . . medicine could never perfect its application without chymistry” (Moran Reference Moran2007, 41). Furthermore, it will become clear that relevant aspects of Paracelsianism are to be found in a number of chemical texts, notably in France – texts that played a central role in the establishment of chemistry as a science.
The status of alchemy and chemistry from the twelfth to the sixteenth century
Centuries earlier, the status of alchemy was problematic: it was a practical art that sought the transmutation of metals, yet it also propounded a series of theories, notably on the origin of metals and on the composition of mixed bodies. As attested by one of the most influential medieval alchemical texts, Lull's Testamentum, alchemy was usually divided into theorica and practica. Alchemical practice was often based on theories, namely, on philosophical and cosmological suppositions. As a result, its position in the classification of sciences was highly controversial.
Discussion on the status of alchemy and its relationship to philosophy became particularly intense during the twelfth century, when alchemy entered the Latin West. Medieval views were significantly influenced by Avicenna's Sciant artifices, which rejected alchemy on the basis of the fact that species cannot be transmuted (Newman Reference Newman2004, 36–44). Inevitably, the status of alchemy was linked to the assessment of the legitimacy of transmutation. The position of alchemy in medieval discussion ranged from being considered one of the mechanical arts by Thomas Aquinas, to being considered the foundation of experimental science by Roger Bacon (Obrist Reference Obrist, Margolin and Matton1993; Crisciani and Pereira Reference Crisciani and Pereira1996, 31–53). In the second half of the twelfth century, Dominicus Gundissalinus saw alchemy as science – the science of transmutation of species. Albertus Magnus endeavored to incorporate alchemy into Aristotelian natural philosophy by maintaining that alchemy had a special status, being both a science and an art. In his view, it should be included among the arts as it was practical; however, it was not the same as the mechanical arts. His argument was that alchemy, being based on theory (i.e., the generation of metals), was also scientia. By contrast, Vincent of Beauvais and Thomas Aquinas (who were both skeptical about transmutation) saw alchemy as a practical discipline, to be included among the mechanical arts. Roger Bacon (c. 1214–1294) promoted alchemy and maintained that it occupied a central position in experimental science, which, in his view, combined theory and practice (Crisciani and Pereira Reference Crisciani and Pereira1996, 31–53).
In the fourteenth century, Pietro Bono, a physician from Ferrara, set out to raise alchemy (which he deemed to be the gift of God) to the status of scientia, and maintained that its principles were subordinated to Aristotelian natural philosophy. As William Newman put it, “Peter [Pietro] not only wishes to uphold the reality of transmutation, but to defend alchemy from the opprobrium of being a mechanical art” (Newman Reference Newman2004, 85). The debate on the status of alchemy continued during the Renaissance, as attested by Benedetto Varchi's Questione sull'alchimia (1544), which distinguished three kinds of alchemy: the true, the sophistical, and the false alchemy. True alchemy changed substance; sophistical alchemy changed things only by accident; finally, false alchemy, pretending to extract spirits from bodies, was close to illicit magic – an allegation that echoes Nicholas Eymeric's 1376 famous censure of alchemy (ibid., 136–7).
In the sixteenth century, significant changes affected the assessment of the role and status of alchemy and chemistry (Mandosio Reference Mandosio1990–1991). One was the development of practical chemistry, notably metallurgy, and another was the endeavor of Paracelsus and his followers to make alchemy the foundation of medicine. At the beginning of the century, two booklets were published anonymously: the Bergbüchlein (The Little Book on Ores), attributed to Calbus, the town physician of Freiberg, and Probierbüchlein (The Little Book on Assaying), which conveyed in a printed book much of the practical knowledge in the fields of mineralogy, metallurgy, and mining, that had previously been transmitted orally or by way of manuscripts. The Bergbüchlein saw the light between 1505 and 1510; the Probierbüchlein soon after 1520 (Darmstaedter Reference Darmstaedter1926; Sisco and Smith Reference Sisco and Smith1949; Agricola Reference Agricola1950, 609–614; Long Reference Long2001, 177–178). Whereas both were mainly collections of recipes, another book published later on, De la Pyrotechnia (1540) of Vannoccio Biringuccio (1480–1539), was better organized, more elaborate, and more comprehensive (Biringuccio Reference Biringuccio and Carugo1977; Long Reference Long2001, 181). Biringuccio criticized the alchemists’ practice of secrecy and endeavored to give solid organization to the study of mining and metallurgy. De la Pyrotechnia was followed by Agricola's influential De re metallica (1556), which provided a systematic treatment of the subject. A humanist and an Aristotelian, Agricola (1494–1555) distanced the art of mining from alchemy and aimed at elevating the status of mineralogy and metallurgy above the widespread opinion that “the metal industries are fortuitous and that the occupation is one of sordid toil, and altogether a kind of business requiring not so much skill and labour” (Agricola Reference Agricola1950, 1). Agricola tried to upgrade the profession of the miner and metallurgist and recommended theoretical apprenticeship that would include philosophy, medicine, astronomy, arithmetic, and law (ibid., 4). He adopted the Aristotelian view that science is knowledge of causes, maintaining that natural philosophy provides the knowledge of “the origin, cause, and nature of subterraneal things” (ibid., 3). Agricola's views may have been the inspiration for Libavius’ project to establish chemistry as a didactic discipline, though Libavius never ruled out the transmutation of metals, as Agricola did.
Paracelsus saw alchemy as one of the foundations of the new medicine he was promoting. In his view alchemy was not the transmutation of metals, but the art of separation. Alchemy, namely scientia separationis, or spagyria, was the key to understanding the human body and the natural world (Pagel Reference Pagel1958, 258–78; Webster Reference Webster2008). Paracelsians used to style themselves “philosophers by fire” and some of them developed the cosmological and theoretical aspects contained in the works of Paracelsus, providing a set of theories that stood in opposition to the Aristotelian philosophy of nature and to Galenic medicine. Paracelsus and his followers argued that chymia explained Creation in terms of distillation, sublimation, and coagulation. This view brought attack from many quarters, notably from Thomas Erastus (1524–1583), whose Disputationes de medicina nova Philippi Paracelsi (1572–73) provided an armory of arguments for subsequent anti-Paracelsian literature.
Libavius unambiguously rejected the Paracelsians’ views and their endeavor to overthrow traditional learning (Hannaway Reference Hannaway1975, 75–83). By opposing the Paracelsians’ obscure terminology, Libavius set out to reform alchemy by imposing method and order so that chemistry could be a teaching discipline. As Hannaway points out, the reform of terminology was central to Libavius’ project to give chemistry a distinct role in the world of learning (ibid., 119–120). Part of his project was to eradicate from chemistry the pernicious influence of Paracelsus and his followers who, according to Libavius, subverted the traditional classification of knowledge. Libavius criticized the language and the claims of the “chemists,” i.e. of Paracelsus and his followers, and aimed to separate what he saw as genuine chemistry from Paracelsianisms (Moran Reference Moran2007, 32). By opposing the Paracelsians, Libavius aimed to keep chemistry subordinated to natural philosophy, which in his view meant Aristotelianism. Libavius was prone to admit that medicine needed chemistry, yet he made clear that it was not the aim of chemistry to create a new medicine by rejecting traditional medical learning. Libavius pursued two goals: to rescue chemistry from the hands of the Paracelsians and to establish method, principles, and axioms for chemistry after the model of a demonstrative science in order to introduce it into the university curricula. For Libavius, chemistry was not to be left to “philosophically uninformed artisans” who had but sporadic experience. The true chemist had to know the causes of natural phenomena and the reason for his practical procedure. In Libavius’ view, traditional alchemical texts lacked principles, method, and order, so it was necessary to organize chemistry systematically. He concluded that chemistry had to be regarded as both ars and scientia (ibid., 33–42).
An influential seventeenth-century physician and philosopher, Daniel Sennert (1572–1637), dealt with the goals of chemistry and with its relationship to medicine in De chymicorum cum Aristotelicis et Galenicis consensu ac dissensu liber (1619). Sennert maintained that chemistry was ars, not scientia, and pointed out that it was not independent of medicine, but was an aid to it. Chymiatria, he wrote, is part of medicine and it is the physician's task to prepare and to apply chemical remedies. He therefore rejected the Paracelsians’ ambitions to promote a new medicine and a new philosophy since this would trespass the boundaries of chemistry. The chemist's role, for Sennert, was definitely menial, namely, to produce observations and experiments for the physician and for the philosopher, who make use of the chemist's operations in order to draw their conclusions.Footnote 1 Despite these severe strictures on the role of chemistry, Sennert did not rule out the tria prima of the Paracelsians. He denied that salt, sulphur, and mercury were the ultimate constituents of bodies, but saw bodies as ultimately composed of the four Aristotelian elements. He maintained that the chemical principles were separated from mixed bodies by means of fire as they were present in them. This is quite a concession to the Paracelsians’ claims and it testifies to Sennert's commitment to promote compromise between Aristotelianism and Paracelsianism. Sennert recognized that chemistry is able to show the constituents of bodies, though he pointed out that the chemical principles were not to be seen as simple substances, but as prima mixta (Sennert Reference Sennert1619, 265; Debus Reference Debus1977, 195–7; Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio2000, 27).
Libavius’ effort to reform alchemy was by no means isolated. In the Novum Organum (Book iii, aphor. 7), Bacon complained that alchemists lacked proper method and misused fire in their experimental work. Bacon urged them to progress “from Vulcan to Minerva,” namely, from fire analysis to analysis by reason, in order to discover the nature of bodies they manipulated. As we shall see, Robert Boyle's main allegation to chemists was that they failed to provide philosophical interpretation of their experiments. Some proposals for the reform of alchemy came from Marin Mersenne, who unambiguously censured the Paracelsians for spreading naturalism and impiety, but was not entirely hostile to chemistry, which in fact he saw as a valuable contribution to the study of natural philosophy (Kahn Reference Kahn2001, 280–283). He rebuked alchemists for their obscure terminology and the practice of secretiveness. Furthermore, he rejected the Paracelsians’ fusion of alchemy with religion, notably their chemical interpretation of Creation. Yet, in the Quaestiones Celeberrimae in Genesim (1623), Mersenne proposed that an academy of alchemists be founded to co-ordinate their experiments with metals – a suggestion he repeated in La Vérité des Sciences (1625), where he also urged alchemists to undertake a reform of chemical terminology (Beaulieu Reference Beaulieu, Margolin and Matton1993; Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio2000, 47–50).
The role and scope of chemistry in early chemical texts
Libavius unambiguously criticized the Paracelsians’ claim that chemistry discovered the ultimate constituents of mixed bodies and adhered to Aristotelian elements and qualities. There is little doubt that Libavius inspired some of the textbooks written at the beginning of the seventeenth century, yet a tension between Libavius’ views of chemistry and the Paracelsians’ claims surfaced in the early chemical texts, which adopted the chemical theory of principles and a number of relevant Paracelsian doctrines. They often presented chemistry as the key to understanding natural phenomena, and as the foundation of medicine – therefore trespassing the border Libavius had established. This produced conflicts and censures, especially in Paris.
In the first half of the seventeenth century, some German universities began to teach chemistry, whereas in the rest of Europe chemistry was taught privately, or at institutions other than universities, such as the Jardin du Roi in Paris. Teaching chemistry was closely linked to the publication of chemical textbooks, which in turn gave impulse to the recognition of chemistry as a discipline. The organization of arguments and the aims of the chemical texts inevitably reveal the position of chemistry in those specific social and intellectual settings. Most chemical texts open with the definition of chemistry and its scope, testifying to the chemists’ increasing commitment to investigate the ultimate constituents of mixed bodies.
Libavius’ aims to transform chemistry into a didactic discipline met with opposition from the Paris Medical Faculty. The latter rejected chemistry as a stranger to medicine and reassessed the traditional medical curriculum. The University opposition delayed the introduction of chemical teaching at the University of Paris, but did not prevent the teaching of private chemical courses in the city. German universities showed a more tolerant attitude towards chemistry. The founding of new universities and the transformation of the curricula in Protestant universities, as well as the princely patronage, helped the institutionalization of chemical teaching – as attested by the establishment of chemical courses in the Universities of Marburg and Jena in the early decades of the seventeenth century (Hannaway Reference Hannaway1965, 2; Hannaway Reference Hannaway1975; Moran Reference Moran1991b, 50–67; Debus Reference Debus2001, 23–26). In 1609 the Landgrave Maurice of Hesse-Cassel (1592–1627) established a chair of chymiatria at the University of Marburg, which was occupied by Johannes Hartmann (1568–1631) (Moran Reference Moran1991a). In the oration delivered after his appointment as professor of chymiatria in Marburg, Hartmann voiced his commitment to Paracelsianism. Inevitably, Hartmann's views (showing the influence of Petrus Severinus’ Idea medicinae) brought about Libavius’ irritated reaction (Moran Reference Moran2007, 225–232). Hartmann held the Paracelsian theory of tria prima and saw chemistry as an independent discipline, not subordinated to natural philosophy (physica). Furthermore, he rejected the view that chemistry was ancillary to medicine and extolled chemistry because it discloses the major arcana of nature (notably, antipathies and sympathies) and, unlike physica (which is filled with endless disputes), produces useful and good things for life (Hannaway Reference Hannaway1965, 82). In the mid-1630s chemical teaching started at the University of Jena, where public lectures were delivered by Zacharias Brendel, Jr. (1592–1638), who published a textbook entitled Chymia in artis formam redacta (1630). Brendel's views were less innovative than Hartmann's. He rejected the claims of the “chemical philosophers,” who, in his view, subverted the traditional hierarchy of disciplines. Brendel unambiguously restated the ancillary role of chemistry, claiming that chemistry was a practical art, subordinated to medicine, which aimed to produce chemical remedies (Brendel Reference Brendel1630, 9–10; Hannaway Reference Hannaway1965, 91–95). After Brendel, chemistry was taught in Jena by Werner Rolfinck (1599–1673), a former student of Daniel Sennert at Wittenberg. Rolfinck was appointed professor of anatomy, surgery, and botany at the University of Jena, where he also taught chemistry from 1637. His textbook, bearing the same title as Brendel's (Chymia in artis formam redacta), promoted chemistry as an academic discipline, following the traditional academic pattern of the quaestiones disputatae. Rolfinck, who was “Director Exercitii Chymici,” maintained that chemistry (i.e., metallurgy and pharmaceutical chemistry) was distinct from alchemy – which he ruled out as ars sine arte. He argued that chemistry was based on reason and experiments. His position was somewhat conservative; he did not reject traditional medical learning and imposed severe restrictions on the role of chemistry, which he defined along the following lines: “Chemistry is the art of dissolving solid bodies, coagulating solutions, so that the pure is separated from the impure and safe medicaments are prepared.” Like Sennert, Rolfinck was critical of Paracelsianism and saw chemistry as a practical art, playing an ancillary role to medicine (“Domina est medicina, chemia serva”). He stated that “Chemistry is not to be included among the sciences, but among the arts, being part of medicine” (Rolfinck Reference Rolfinck1661; Hannaway Reference Hannaway1965, 96–99; Partington Reference Partington1961–1970, 2:312–14).
If we move from the German states to Paris we find chemists fighting against the medical establishment to promote chemical teaching. This left little room for compromise and spurred the Paracelsians to oppose chemistry to traditional medicine. Thanks to the King's physicians and to members of the court, chemical physicians succeeded in establishing classes in the city, despite the resistance of the Paris medical faculty. The first French textbook was Jean Beguin's Tyrocinium Chymicum, published in 1610 as a slim anonymous volume of 70 pages, being a collection of pharmaceutical instructions, compiled by Beguin's students (Patterson Reference Patterson1937). It was mainly practical in nature and had a minimum of theoretical content, as it was principally aimed at teaching chemical operations to apothecaries. It went through numerous editions which show substantial differences, both in size and content. The subsequent editions of Tyrocinium show a shift in the definition of the role and aims of chemistry, notably, from a practical art to a discipline having both practical and theoretical content. The 1610 edition of the Tyrocinium was indebted to Libavius’ Alchemia of 1597, stressing the practical nature of alchemy: “Alchemy is the art that teaches how to separate the pure from the impure, or the art of perfecting the magisteries, and of separating the pure essence from mixed bodies” (Kent and Hannaway Reference Kent and Hannaway1960).Footnote 2 With the exception of a passing reference to Paracelsus’ spurious De Tinctura Physicorum, it does not contain any substantial challenge to the philosophical and medical tradition, and explicitly states that chemistry is ancillary to medicine. Though Beguin practiced alchemy, he carefully distinguished alchemy, i.e., the transmutation of metals, from practical chemistry, which was the only subject of his Tyrocinium: “There are two species of alchemy; one of which, Pyrotechnia, or the art of resolution, purification and transmutation of metals by fire, I here pass over in silence. The other extracts the most subtle spirits from metals, gems, and plants” (Beguin Reference Beguin1610, 3).Footnote 3 The 1612 edition, the first bearing the author's name, is larger than the previous one and is considerably different in arrangement. It contains a view of chemistry that is similar to the one contained in the 1610 edition: “Chemistry is the art of dissolving natural mixed bodies, and of recombining the same when dissolved and of reducing them into salubrious, safe, and grateful medicaments.” In the second edition, Beguin says something more about the status of chemistry, distinguishing chemistry from natural philosophy (physica) as follows: whereas physica is purely theoretical, chemistry is both theoretical and practical (Beguin Reference Beguin1612, 1–2). The subsequent editions of the Tyrocinium show that the conflicts between the Paracelsians and the Medical Faculty affected its content, including the definition of the aims and status of chemistry. In the 1615 edition of the Tyrocinium, published with the title of Les elemens de chymie, Beguin, who was censured by the Medical Faculty, dropped the reference to Paracelsus and replaced the previous Preface with a new one, attesting his submission to the Medical Faculty. The members of the Faculty – who he had previously styled “mysochymists” – are now called “learned and illustrious physicians.” In the Preface to the 1615 edition, Beguin disavowed his former opinion, bowing to the Medical Faculty's authority. He declared: “I have written the new edition under the censorship of the learned and illustrious members of the Medical Faculty of this town, to the judgment of whom I have always submitted and do submit myself, recognizing that this science [i.e. chemistry] to reach its best perfection, should be conducted according to the doctrine they profess” (Patterson Reference Patterson1937, 275). In 1618 two different editions of the Tyrocinium saw the light. One was published at Koenigsberg, with preface and notes by Johann Hartmann (under the pseudonym of Christopher Glückradt), the other appeared with the title of Secreta spagyrica revelata and was edited by Beguin's former student Jeremias Barth. Hartmann extolled the importance of chemistry for medicine and quoted Severinus’ rejection of traditional medical learning (Beguin Reference Beguin1618a; Patterson Reference Patterson1937, 281–282). Jeremias Barth inserted praise of Paracelsus, of Joseph Du Chesne, and of the new chemical remedies, while rejecting Galenical medicine (Beguin Reference Beguin1618b; Patterson Reference Patterson1937, 283–285). By contrast, the 1620 posthumous French edition, which was prepared for the press by someone named Jean Lucas de Roy, was heavily affected by the University's attacks against Paracelsianism (Patterson Reference Patterson1937, 288–289).Footnote 4 It is apparent that the censures of the Paris Medical Faculty were ultimately responsible for the Preface, where Paracelsus and his followers are explicitly criticized (ibid., 275–276). Beguin's Tyrocinium enjoyed enormous diffusion all over Europe and gave chemistry a larger audience, contributing to the standardization of terminology and procedures.
Patronage and chemical teaching in Paris
Numerous attacks by the Paris Medical Faculty against chemical medicines and the famous 1624 censure of the Parliament to Atoine de Villon's and Etienne De Clave's theses did not stop chemical teaching in Paris (Debus Reference Debus1991, 48–74; Kahn Reference Kahn2007, 500–568). A broader urban medical marketplace and the diffusion of the new Paracelsian remedies brought increasing popularity to chemical instruction among Paris physicians. Furthermore, a number of virtuosi and aristocrats became interested in chemical matters, conferring intellectual and social prestige to chemistry. In the early 1630s, chemical lectures and laboratories were established in various Hôtels particuliers. Strong impulse came from Théophraste Renaudot and from Guy de la Brosse. In 1633, with Richelieu's support, the former started his conferences promoting chemistry and a number of Paracelsian medicines before a large and diverse public. One of the speakers at Renaudot's conferences maintained that chemistry was not subordinate to medicine, but was an integral part of medicine: “we say rather that the three parts of Medicine, or its three ancient sects, are the three parts of the World, Europe, Asia, and Africa; and Chymistry is that New World, lately discover'd, not less rare and admirable than the others, provided it be as carefully cultivated, and rescu'd out of the hands of Barbarians” (Debus Reference Debus1991, 87). The medical faculty saw the conferences as a threat to the medical tradition and managed to put an end to Renaudot's Bureau d'Adresse in 1642 (Solomon Reference Solomon1972; Debus Reference Debus1991, 84–95). Thanks to Guy de la Brosse, Parisian iatrochemists achieved success with the foundation of the Jardin du Roi in 1640, where chemistry courses were regularly delivered and a laboratory operated (Debus Reference Debus1991, 84; 131; Joly Reference Joly, Kahn and Matton1995; Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio2006). It was Guy de la Brosse, a student of Beguin's and a Paracelsian, who introduced chemistry to be among the disciplines taught at the Jardin (Guerlac Reference Guerlac and Debus1972; Howard Reference Howard and Woolf1981; Howard Reference Howard1983). Chemical courses were advertised in Latin but given in French; they were open to the public and were free. While the early Parisian chemical courses were mainly attended by apothecaries, those at the Jardin du Roi had a larger audience, being attended by physicians, natural philosophers, and virtuosi (Contant Reference Contant1952). William Davidson (or Davisson) of Aberdeen was the first teacher (intendant) of chemistry at the Jardin du Roi. Before starting his teaching at the Jardin du Roi, Davidson had already taught privately in Paris and had published his chemical course (Philosophia Pyrotechnica. . . seu Curriculus Chymiatricus 1633–1635), containing a complex mixture of Neoplatonic, Paracelsian, and corpuscular theories (Read Reference Read1961). The French edition, translated from the Latin by Jean Hellot, Maître Chirurgien, is shorter than the original Latin (Les Elemens de la philosophie de l'art du feu, ou chymie, 1651). The theoretical part was abbreviated, some philosophical and cosmological speculations were dropped, and the practical part was extended and rearranged. In it chemistry is described as both a science and an art, having ancient origins, going back to Hermes Trismegistus and to Moses. Davidson's preoccupation with making chemistry a teaching discipline is attested by the arrangement of the theoretical section, which was organized in a demonstrative way following the model of Euclid's Elements. Davidson recommended his book to students of philosophy, medicine, surgery, and pharmacy.
In 1646, De Clave's Cours de Chimie was published (and possibly prepared for the press on the basis of students’ notes) by Olivier de Varennes. Etienne De Clave, who was banished from the capital for the well-known affair of the 1624 theses, was supported by members of the French nobility, notably Philippe de Béthune (1561–1649) (Kahn Reference Kahn2001, 254; Kahn Reference Kahn2007, 500–568). In De Clave's Cours, chemistry was not confined to the rank of a menial and pharmaceutical art, but dealt with a number of theoretical issues, such as the composition of mixed bodies and matter theory.
By the mid-seventeenth century, chemistry was well rooted in France, especially in Paris, where chemical courses attracted a broad and diverse public. Annibal Barlet, Nicaise Lefèvre, and Nicolas Lemery taught chemistry privately and published chemical textbooks. Chemical lessons at the Jardin gained popularity among apothecaries, physicians, and natural philosophers – as attested by John Evelyn and Thomas Hobbes, who attended chemical classes there during their stay in Paris (Taylor Reference Taylor1952). Furthermore, a number of chemists were active in the Paris Academies. Samuel Cottereau Duclos and Nicaise Lefèvre took part in the Montmor Academy, while Nicolas Lemery, in the conferences of Henry Justel and in the Bourdelot Academy (Hall and Hall Reference Hall and Hall1965–1986, i:227; Sturdy Reference Sturdy1995, 309). Finally, the foundation of the Académie Royale des Sciences (1666) enhanced the reputation of chemistry in the Parisian intellectual milieu (Hirschfield Reference Hirschfield1981; Stroup Reference Stroup1990; Kim Reference Kim2001; Franckowiak, Reference Franckowiak2008). The prestige of chemistry in the république des lettres is also attested by the increasing number of alchemical books and chemical textbooks published in France during the seventeenth century. The chemical courses promoted chemistry as an independent discipline and endorsed the Paracelsian emphasis on chemistry as the key for the study of nature. This is apparent in Le Fèvre's Traicté de la Chymie (1660), where the author declares that “la Chymie est la veritable clef de la nature” (Le Fèvre Reference Le Fèvre1669, 3–4).
A Protestant from Sedan, Nicaise Le Fèvre (c. 1610–1669) moved to Paris, where he was instructed by Samuel Cottereau Duclos. He was appointed “apothecary and distiller in ordinary” to the King, and taught chemistry privately from 1647, and then at the Jardin du Roi from 1651. One of his students was Sir Kenelm Digby, who favored Le Fèvre's appointment as chemist to Charles II. In 1660 Le Fèvre moved to London, and in 1663 he was elected Fellow of the Royal Society on the nomination of Sir Robert Moray, whom he met in Paris (Partington Reference Partington1961–1970, iii:17–24; Todériciu Reference Todériciu1974). In his Traicté de la Chymie, Le Fèvre adopted the Paracelsians’ view of principles and argued that by means of chemistry one could disclose the ultimate constituents of mixed bodies: “Chymistry is the art and knowledge of nature itself; it is by her means that we examine the Principles, out of which natural bodies do consist and are compounded; and by her are discovered unto us the causes and sources of their generations and corruptions; and of all the changes and alterations to which they are liable” (Le Fèvre Reference Le Fèvre1669, 3–4). For Le Fèvre, chemistry had a double nature, being both theory and practice, science and art. He distinguished three different kinds of chemistry, following a hierarchical order. At the high point he put “philosophical chemistry,” which he claimed was science, not art. The principles of natural bodies, as well as the generation of animals, plants, and minerals are all disclosed by the philosophical chemistry, which is identical with natural philosophy (physique). He placed iatrochemistry at a lower level, since it depends on the philosophical chemistry and is a mixed science, both theoretical and practical. At the bottom of Le Fèvre's classification we find pharmaceutical chemistry, which is subordinated to iatrochemistry and is purely practical, since it has practical ends only. As he put it, “it belongs to the profession of the apothecary who is directed in his work by the precepts of iatrochymists” (ibid., 7; Mandosio Reference Mandosio and Greiner1998, 43–48). Le Fèvre's classification stresses the superiority of the iatrochemists over the apothecaries. Indeed, the Traicté de la Chymie gave increasing importance to theory, devoting a large section to a discussion of the chemical principles and the composition of natural bodies. To Le Fèvre, the aim of chemistry was to establish the number of principles and their properties (Le Fèvre Reference Le Fèvre1669, 1). Drawing on Paracelsian texts like Petrus Severinus’ Idea medicinae (1571) and Pierre-Jean Fabre's Abrégé des secrets chymiques (1636), Le Fèvre dealt extensively with the universal spirit (L'Esprit universel), which he defined as a simple and homogeneous substance, and the source of life in the universe (ibid., 15–16; Matton, Reference Matton1992–1996). Le Fèvre's intended audience was not restricted to chemical laborants. His goal was more ambitious, namely, to promote chemistry among natural philosophers presenting it as the key for the study of nature.
The mechanical philosophers, Robert Boyle and the status of chemistry
The relationship of chemistry to mechanical philosophy is a crucial issue for understanding the role of chemistry in the seventeenth century. Different views have been put forward by historians. According to Richard Westfall, mechanical philosophy gave a decisive impulse to “rationalize” chemistry, i.e., to purge it from the heritage of Paracelsian doctrines: “The story of chemistry in the second half of the century is the story of its conversion to the mechanical philosophy. Perhaps one should say rather its subjection to the mechanical philosophy. . . . If most of the leading chemists of the first half of the century were Paracelsians, the leaders of the second half were nearly all mechanists” (Westfall Reference Westfall1977, 69). In his famous 1952 article Kuhn stressed the tension between chemistry and mechanism in the work of Robert Boyle. The latter, according to Kuhn, based chemistry on mechanical philosophy, and for this reason his chemical views were “incompatible with the belief in the existence of enduring elements” (Kuhn Reference Kuhn1952, 26). More recently, Luc Peterschmitt has argued that chemistry was incompatible with mechanical philosophy (Peterschmitt Reference Peterschmitt and Principe2007, 201). Kuhn's and Peterschmitt's arguments fit Cartesian mechanism, since the latter left no room for chemistry as an independent discipline, but their arguments are less convincing with reference to other versions of mechanical philosophy, notably, Robert Boyle's. This is not the place to deal with the different versions of seventeenth-century mechanical philosophy. Here, my aim is to understand whether mechanical philosophers promoted chemistry as a discipline in its own right, or viewed chemistry as a practical art.
In the fourth part of the Principia Philosophiae (1644), Descartes seems to accept the three chemical principles, by identifying them with three different substances: “And thus we have here three things which seem to be closely related to the three customary elements of Chemists: salt, sulphur, and mercury. That is, one may take the acrid juice to be their salt, the softest small branches of oily matter to be their sulphur, and quicksilver itself to be their mercury” (Descartes Reference Descartes, Adam and Tannery1983, ix, 2, 253; Maillard Reference Maillard and Greiner1998; Matton Reference Matton and Greiner1998). This statement is not to be seen as evidence of Descartes’ positive view of chemistry. In fact, Descartes spoke of a possible analogy between the three kinds of corpuscles he refers to and the chemists’ tria prima. Descartes unambiguously criticized chemistry in his letters. On 30 July 1640 he wrote to Mersenne rejecting the chemists’ principles by saying that they were corpuscles of matter endowed with mechanical properties. The chemists’ theory of principles, he said, was a mistake due to false imagination.Footnote 5 In a letter of 1646 to William Cavendish, Descartes explicitly spelled out his condemnation of chemistry and chemists: “I entirely subscribe to your Excellence's view of chemists and believe that they employ uncommon words to pretend that they understood what they utterly ignore” (Descartes Reference Descartes, Adam and Tannery1983, iv, 569–70).
Some Cartesians followed Descartes’ censure of chemistry, others adopted a more liberal attitude, and recognized that chemistry could yield some knowledge of the natural world. Following Descartes, Géraud de Cordemoy (1626–1684) and Jacques Rohault (1618–1672) denied chemistry the status of independent discipline since, for them, only mechanical theories provided the true explanation of natural phenomena. For Rohault, chemists perform experiments, but, in order to explain them, one should resort to mechanical theories. In Conjectures Physiques (1706), Nicolaas Hartsoeker (1656–1725) maintained that the different chemical substances and their properties were the outcome of geometrical forms, sizes, and weights of the constituent corpuscles. Acid salts are made of long and sharp particles, which, when mixed with water, form acid spirits. The latter he described as balls studded with sharp points, so they can easily penetrate the texture of bodies. Alkalis have hollow cylindrical particles, where acids’ points can enter them (Hartsoeker Reference Hartsoeker1706, 101–130). By contrast, Pierre Sylvain Régis (1632–1707), who was no strict mechanist, did not rule out the chemical principles and saw chemistry as an independent science. He believed that explaining chemical principles in terms of mechanisms was possible, but he deemed this task to be out of reach (Peterschmitt Reference Peterschmitt and Principe2007).
For a long time historians accepted Kuhn's interpretation, maintaining that Boyle's mechanical philosophy prevented chemistry from being considered an independent discipline (Kuhn Reference Kuhn1952). In this view, Boyle was a reductionist, very much like most Cartesians. According to Chalmers, “A key feature of Boyle's mechanical philosophy that needs to be stressed is the extreme reductionism that it involved” (Chalmers Reference Chalmers2010, 2). It is my contention that Boyle seldom explained chemical change by means of the primary affections of corpuscles (shape, size, and motion). Boyle did not maintain that explanations based on the shape, size, and motion of the primary corpuscles were the only valid ones. He maintained that “intermediate causes,” i.e., explanations not involving the mechanical affections of corpuscles, are both legitimate and useful in the study of nature. In Certain Physiological Essays (1661) Boyle wrote that, although explanations employing the mechanical affections of matter are preferable, “there are different kinds or degrees of explication of the same thing” (Boyle Reference Boyle, Hunter and Davis1999–2000, ii, 21). Boyle's statement referred to explanations of phenomena not employing strictly mechanical causes. As Boyle put it in Certain Physiological Essays:
For although such explications be the most satisfactory to the understanding, wherein ‘tis shewn how the effect is produc'd by more primitive and catholick affections of matter, namely, bulk, shape and motion, yet are not these explications to be despised, wherein particular effects are deduc'd from the more obvious and familiar qualities or states of bodies. . . . So, there are oftentimes so many subordinate causes between particular effects and the most general causes of things, that there is left a large field, wherein to exercise mens industry and reason. (Ibid., 21, 23)
Boyle's explanations of chemical change are the kind of subordinate causes Boyle referred to in this passage as intermediate theories. Thus it is apparent that Boyle allowed chemistry a specific role in the study of nature. As recent studies have pointed out, in his chemical investigations, Boyle did not adopt a strict reductionist approach, having recourse to compound corpuscles, namely corpuscles endowed with chemical, not mechanical, properties (Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio2000, 135–148; Newman Reference Newman2004, 190–215). By contrast, Chalmers maintains “that most sense is made of Boyle's endeavours if we understand him as attempting to articulate chemistry in a way that was mechanical in a strict sense” (Chalmers Reference Chalmers2010, 5). Chalmers’ view is contradicted by Boyle's statement found in an unpublished manuscript, where he spelled out a non-reductionist approach to chemistry: “The most useful notions we have, both in physics, mechanicks, Chymistry, & the medicinal art, are not deriv'd from ye first principles, but from intermediate Theorys, notions and rules” (Royal Society, MS 185, fol. 31).
It is well known that Boyle criticized the theory of chemical principles, notably the one contained in most textbooks. The rejection of this doctrine might be seen as undermining the theoretical foundation of chemistry. But if one looks closer, it becomes apparent that Boyle's view was somehow nuanced, and his rejection of chemical principles was not so peremptory. In the Sceptical Chymist (1661) he rejected the doctrine of the chemical principles using experimental arguments, some of them borrowed from Jean-Baptiste van Helmont's Ortus Medicinae (1648). Boyle enlarged upon chemical principles in A Discourse of the Imperfection of the Chymist's doctrine of Qualities (1675–6) and in A Chymical Paradox (1682). Yet, in the appendix to the second edition of the Sceptical Chymist, bearing the title of Producibleness of Chemical Principles (1680), Boyle's position was less strict, showing that he did not rule out the existence of homogeneous chemical substances. In the section devoted to mercury, he did not deny that mercury was a homogeneous substance, though he pointed out that nobody had extracted it (Boyle Reference Boyle, Hunter and Davis1999–2000, ix, 78–106; Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio and Hunter1994). In a manuscript contained in the Royal Society Boyle Papers we find a more positive statement about mercury, where Boyle asserts that the corpuscles of mercury are primary concretions as well as the primary ingredients of some mixed bodies (Royal Society, Boyle Papers, xvii, fol. 154v).
As we shall see, Boyle's critical attitude towards the current doctrine of chemical principles had some important consequences for chemistry. As William H. Brock puts it, “Boyle's scepticism suggested the possibility that some substances might contain less than the total number of elements; this made it possible for later chemists to be pragmatic about elements and to increase their number slowly and stealthily throughout the eighteenth century” (Brock Reference Brock1992, 69).
Let us now consider Boyle's position on the status of chemistry. A recurrent theme in Boyle's works is the distinction he made between “vulgar chymists” and “learned chymists.” This is crucial to understanding Boyle's view of the status of chemistry. He complained that chemistry was often practiced by unlearned “laborants,” and that experimental practice was seldom accompanied by a proper understanding of the outcome of experiments. The preface to the second part of Boyle's essay on nitre (Certain Physiological Essays) opens with an apologetic statement about his commitment to chemistry. This statement contains some illuminating remarks on this subject:
There are many Learned Men, who being acquainted with Chymistry but by report, have from the Illiterateness, the Arrogance and the Impostures of too many of those that pretend skill in it, taken occasion to entertain so ill an opinion as well as of the Art as of those that profess it, that they are apt to repine when they see any Person capable of succeeding in the study of solid Philosophy, addict himself to an Art they judge so much below a Philosopher, and so unserviceable to him: Nay, there are some that are troubled when they see a Man acquainted with other Learning countenance by his Example sooty Empiricks, and a Study which they scarce fit for any but such as are unfit for the rational and useful parts of Physiology. (Boyle Reference Boyle, Hunter and Davis1999–2000, ii, 85)
Boyle often criticized the “vulgar chymists” who failed to “give philosophical accounts” of their experiments. His main targets were those chemical textbooks, like Beguin's Tyrocinium, that contained practical instructions often based on obscure and confusing terminology and on the theory of principles (Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio and Hunter1994). Boyle's ambivalent attitude towards chemistry is apparent in The Sceptical Chymist (1661), where he criticized the unphilosophical chemists and at the same time promoted “true chemistry” as conductive to a profound knowledge of nature:
I am far from being an enemy to the chymists art, (though I am no friend to many that disgrace it by professing it,) and perswade them to believe me when I declare that I distinguish betwixt those chymists that are either cheats, or but laborants, and the true Adepti. . . And thus much I shall here make bold to add, that we shall much undervalue chymistry, if we imagine, that it cannot teach us things far more useful, not only to Physick but to Philosophy, than those that are hitherto known to vulgar chymists. (Boyle Reference Boyle, Hunter and Davis1999–2000, ii, 213)
Boyle preferred “Adepts” who thoroughly investigated the properties of metals and pursued the preparation of the alkahest to those practical chemists who failed to give a proper understanding of their experiments, confining chemistry to the status of purely practical art (Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio and Hunter1994; Principe Reference Principe1998, 35–48). In The Usefulness of Natural Philosophy (1663), Boyle extolled the application of chemistry to the study of the human body, since, “by the resolution of bodies” it can “extricate their more active parts.” Furthermore, chemistry helps discover “the unobserved and otherwise scarce discoverable” phenomena (Boyle Reference Boyle, Hunter and Davis1999–2000, iii, 410; 319). Yet, he did not share the Paracelsians’ and the Helmontians’ claim that chemistry is the foundation of medicine. He refrained from sharing the English Helmontians’ attacks on official medicine and maintained that chemistry can help understand physiology and pathology, but cannot explain the whole animal economy (ibid.; Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio1993, 319–326). Boyle did not share the Paracelsians’ claim that all natural phenomena might be explained by chemical notions only. Boyle's position on chemistry and natural philosophy is well elucidated by Kim: “what Boyle pursued was not a chemical philosophy, but a philosophical chemistry. That is, he did not wish to extend chemical experience into a world-view, but sought to turn chemistry into a respectable branch of philosophy and to forge concepts that catered to its practice” (Kim Reference Kim2001, 380). In order to turn chemistry into a branch of natural philosophy, Boyle pursued a reform of the discipline. Although he never articulated this project, it can be gathered from statements scattered throughout his works. Besides rejecting the chemical doctrine of principles, Boyle insisted on the reform of the language, complaining about the obscurity and ambiguity of the current chemical terminology. Furthermore, he took issue with the chemists’ classification of substances as it was based on a small number of analogies and overlooked their differences. He sought to produce a new chemical classification of substances, notably to establish “chemical families” based on a thorough analysis of the chemical properties of bodies.
Boyle's criticism of chemical theories and methods brought about a significant shift in the view of the chemical principles, and made it possible to devise a pragmatic interpretation of the notion of chemical principles. This is apparent in Lemery's Cours de Chymie, one of the most influential chemical textbooks both in France and in the rest of Europe.
Lemery's synthesis
Lemery's successful career testifies to the transformation of the role of chemistry in early modern France. He established connections with prestigious circles of savants in Paris, became a member of the Académie des Sciences, and gave lessons in chemistry that attracted a large audience, including natural philosophers and university professors. In his Cours de Chymie he criticized alchemy, adopted the corpuscular theory of matter, and reinterpreted the theory of principles in a pragmatic way, rejecting the view that the chemical principles are the ultimate constituents of bodies.
The son of a procureur at the Parlement of Rouen, Nicolas Lemery (1645–1715) was a Protestant, like most French chemists. He was apprenticed as an apothecary at Rouen, and then settled in Paris, where in 1666 he attended Christophle Glaser's chemical classes at the Jardin du Roi, apparently with little profit. In 1668 he settled in Montpellier, and in 1672 he moved to Paris, where he continued his training under the direction of Elie Seignette and Bernardin Martin, apothecary to the Prince de Condé. Thanks to Martin, Lemery became acquainted with the savants who gathered around Pierre Michon, the Abbé Bourdelot, then confidant of the Prince de Condé. In the mid-1670s Lemery assumed an influential position in Paris science. He became acquainted with members of the Académie des Science, including Joseph Pitton de Tournefort (1656–1708) and Joseph-Guichard du Verney (1648–1730). Lemery also attended conferences organized by Henry Justel (1620–1693), which gave him the opportunity to advance his career.
Lemery's lectures, which occupied three or four days a week for eight weeks, were advertised in Nicolas de Blegny's Temple d'Esculape and were attended by a large number of students, including academic physicians and natural philosophers, such as Jacques Rohault, François Bernier, Adrien Auzout, Joseph Pitton de Tournefort, and two English students, William Harris and John Keill, who translated Lemery's Cours de Chymie into English. In 1699 Lemery enrolled at the Académie des Sciences, where he contributed a number of papers on chemical, mineralogical, and geological topics (Guédon Reference Guédon1974; Sturdy Reference Sturdy1995, 308–12; Powers Reference Powers1998; Bougard Reference Bougard1999). In order to promote chemistry, Lemery set out to distance chemistry from alchemy, and criticized its obscure terminology along the following lines: “Most writers who wrote on chemical matters expressed themselves so obscurely that it seems they did their best not to be understood.”Footnote 6 He reinforced his attacks on alchemy in the fourth edition (1681) of the Cours describing chrysopoeia and potable gold as tricks, and alchemists as charlatans (Powers Reference Powers1998). It is apparent that Lemery's arguments against alchemy were intended to legitimate chemistry among natural philosophers, by vindicating its role against persistent opposition and skepticism.
The theory of principles contained in the first edition (1675) of his Cours de Chymie is by no means innovative: three active principles (spirit/mercury, oil, and salt) and two passive ones (water and earth) are the ultimate constituents of all bodies. It is apparent that Lemery changed his view on the chemical principles around 1680, as attested by the 1681 edition of his Cours. Lemery added a section entitled “Remarques sur les Principes,” evidently written as a response to Boyle's attacks on the chemists’ principles as contained in Producibleness of Chemical Principles (1680) (Clericuzio Reference Clericuzio2000, 172). Lemery introduced a significant change in the theory of the chemical principles, i.e. he argued that they were not extracted from all bodies – as attested by the analysis of gold and silver. In addition, he asserted that volatile salts obtained by distilling plants did not pre-exist in them, but were produced by fire. Lemery adopted the corpuscular theory of matter and made use of mechanical models to explain a number of chemical reactions. Nonetheless, he did not rule out the chemical principles. He saw the chemical principles as a “working tool” (i.e. a notion to be used to explain chemical change) not as the ultimate components of all substances. Following Boyle, he argued that the substances chemists call principles could be further divided. As he put it in the 1683 edition, the chemical principles are principles for us, not in nature:
The term “Principle” in chemistry is not to be understood in a strict sense, because the substances chemists usually style principles are principles only in respect of us, and only because we cannot advance further in the division of bodies; but we well know that they may be still divided into many other parts, which may more justly deserve the name of Principles. We mean by the Principles of chemistry only those substances separated and divided as far as we are capable by our weak efforts.Footnote 7
Lemery's Cours was not confined to the teaching of pharmaceutical chemistry. He gave chemistry a central part in the investigation of nature:
chemistry shows us how vitriolic and metalline waters coagulate in the bowels of the earth producing minerals, metals and stones, according to the different matrices they happen to meet. Chemistry provides a precise view of the generation and growth of animals by means of fermentations and sublimations. Chemistry shows by means of distillations how the Sun rarefies the sea waters, producing clouds which subsequently distil and bring about rain and dew. Finally, the chemical separation of the pure parts from the impure ones illustrates the order God followed when he created the Universe.Footnote 8
Conclusions
In the seventeenth century, chemistry gained social and intellectual prestige that led to its recognition as a discipline in its own right. Support from princes and from aristocrats made it possible for chemists to face persistent opposition from universities and the medical establishment. A turning point was the establishment of a didactic tradition, largely due to the efforts of Andreas Libavius at the turn of the century. The teaching of chemistry and the publication of chemistry textbooks that spread in France and in German states played a central role in promoting a shared terminology and providing the conditions for establishing a chemical community. The content and aims of chemical textbooks changed throughout the seventeenth century, shifting from a set of practical instructions mostly targeted to apothecaries, into more systematic treatises that often adopted Paracelsian theories. A small number of early textbooks followed Libavius’ outlook, describing chemistry as an art subordinated to medicine, i.e. the art of separating the pure from the impure. Most chemical texts, such as De Clave's Cours de Chimie and Le Fèvre's Traicté de la chymie, were much more ambitious in their goals, presenting chemistry as an independent discipline and claiming that it disclosed the ultimate constituents of natural bodies and the causes of all generations in nature. In the mid-seventeenth century, chemical courses attracted a broad and diverse audience, including apothecaries, physicians, and natural philosophers. This was particularly evident in Paris, where the Jardin du Roi provided an institutional setting for chemical teaching, which was facing strong hostility from universities. All over Europe, and notably in France, chemistry found its way in scientific societies, in academies, and in periodicals, especially in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, and in the German Miscellanea Curiosa.
Despite the wide intellectual and social support chemistry achieved in the second half of the century, its status was still a matter of contention. Mechanical philosophers, like Descartes and some of his followers, ruled out chemical theories, notably the Paracelsians’ doctrine of principles; they regarded chemistry as a practical art, subordinated to mechanical philosophy. Boyle put forward an elaborate critique of the current chemical theories, notably the traditional chemical principles and the newly-born Acid/Alkaly one. Yet, unlike most Cartesian philosophers, he did not pursue the subordination of chemistry to mechanical philosophy and did not peremptorily reject the existence of simple and homogeneous substances. Boyle's aim was to raise the status of chemistry above the level of a menial practical art and to transform it into a branch of natural philosophy. To this end, he stressed the weakness of traditional fire analysis and insisted on the importance of introducing more sophisticated methods of analysis. Furthermore, Boyle aimed at reforming the chemical terminology and the current classification. It is apparent that his rejection of the chemical principles theory was not so destructive as many historians believed. It spurred a reassessment of this theory, namely a pragmatic interpretation of the chemical principles – a stance that was adopted by Lemery in his influential Cours de Chymie. Lemery's successful career and his literary strategy are evidence of the respectable social and intellectual status chemistry achieved in Paris. The numerous editions and translations of Lemery's Cours de Chymie played a major role in the standardization of chemical terminology and methods, paving the way toward the establishment of the chemical community in the eighteenth century.
Acknowledgments
An early version of this paper was read at the Sydney conference on Baroque Science (February 15–17 2008). I am grateful to participants for their comments and suggestions.
