MRS. B.

Undoubtedly. In order to make the formation of the water sensible to you, I shall procure a fresh supply of hydrogen gas, by putting into this bottle (PLATE VIII. fig. 6.) iron filings, water, and sulphuric acid, materials similar to those which we have just used for the same purpose. I shall then cork up the bottle, leaving only a small orifice in the cork, with a piece of glass-tube fixed to it, through which the gas will issue in a continued rapid stream.

CAROLINE.

I hear already the hissing of the gas through the tube, and I can feel a strong current against my hand.

MRS. B.

This current I am going to kindle with the candle—see how vividly it burns——

EMILY.

It burns like a candle with a long flame. But why does this combustion last so much longer than in the former experiment?

MRS. B.

The combustion goes on uninterruptedly as long as the new gas continues to be produced. Now if I invert this receiver over the flame, you will soon perceive its internal surface covered with a very fine dew, which is pure water——

CAROLINE.

Yes, indeed; the glass is now quite dim with moisture! How glad I am that we can see the water produced by this combustion.

EMILY.

It is exactly what I was anxious to see; for I confess I was a little incredulous.

MRS. B.

If I had not held the glass-bell over the flame, the water would have escaped in the state of vapour, as it did in the former experiment. We have here, of course, obtained but a very small quantity of water; but the difficulty of procuring a proper apparatus, with sufficient quantities of gases, prevents my showing it you on a larger scale.

The composition of water was discovered about the same period, both by Mr. Cavendish, in this country, and by the celebrated French chemist Lavoisier. The latter invented a very perfect and ingenious apparatus to perform, with great accuracy, and upon a large scale, the formation of water by the combination of oxygen and hydrogen gases. Two tubes, conveying due proportions, the one of oxygen, the other of hydrogen gas, are inserted at opposite sides of a large globe of glass, previously exhausted of air; the two streams of gas are kindled within the globe, by the electrical spark, at the point where they come in contact; they burn together, that is to say, the hydrogen combines with the oxygen, the caloric is set at liberty, and a quantity of water is produced exactly equal, in weight, to that of the two gases introduced into the globe.

CAROLINE.

And what was the greatest quantity of water ever formed in this apparatus?

MRS. B.

Several ounces; indeed, very nearly a pound, if I recollect right; but the operation lasted many days.

EMILY.

This experiment must have convinced all the world of the truth of the discovery. Pray, if improper proportions of the gases were mixed and set fire to, what would be the result?

MRS. B.

Water would equally be formed, but there would be a residue of either one or other of the gases, because, as I have already told you, hydrogen and oxygen will combine only in the proportions requisite for the formation of water.

EMILY.

Look, Mrs. B., our experiment with the Voltaic battery (PLATE VIII. fig. 2.) has made great progress; a quantity of gas has been formed in each tube, but in one of them there is twice as much gas as in the other.

MRS. B.

Yes; because, as I said before, water is composed of two volumes of hydrogen to one of oxygen—and if we should now mix these gases together and set fire to them by an electrical spark, both gases would entirely disappear, and a small quantity of water would be formed.

There is another curious effect produced by the combustion of hydrogen gas, which I shall show you, though I must acquaint you first, that I cannot well explain the cause of it. For this purpose, I must put some materials into our apparatus, in order to obtain a stream of hydrogen gas, just as we have done before. The process is already going on, and the gas is rushing through the tube—I shall now kindle it with the taper——

EMILY.

It burns exactly as it did before—— What is the curious effect which you were mentioning?

MRS. B.

Instead of the receiver, by means of which we have just seen the drops of water form, we shall invert over the flame this piece of tube, which is about two feet in length, and one inch in diameter (PLATE VIII. fig. 7.); but you must observe that it is open at both ends.

EMILY.

What a strange noise it makes! something like the AEolian harp, but not so sweet.

CAROLINE.

It is very singular, indeed; but I think rather too powerful to be pleasing. And is not this sound accounted for?

MRS. B.

That the percussion of glass, by a rapid stream of gas, should produce a sound, is not extraordinary: but the sound here is so peculiar, that no other gas has a similar effect. Perhaps it is owing to a brisk vibratory motion of the glass, occasioned by the successive formation and condensation of small drops of water on the sides of the glass tube, and the air rushing in to replace the vacuum formed.*

[Footnote *: This ingenious explanation was first suggested by Dr. Delarive. —See Journals of the Royal Institution, vol. i. p. 259.]

CAROLINE.

How very much this flame resembles the burning of a candle.

MRS. B.

The burning of a candle is produced by much the same means. A great deal of hydrogen is contained in candles, whether of tallow or wax. This hydrogen being converted into gas by the heat of the candle, combines with the oxygen of the atmosphere, and flame and water result from this combination. So that, in fact, the flame of a candle is owing to the combustion of hydrogen gas. An elevation of temperature, such as is produced by a lighted match or taper, is required to give the first impulse to the combustion; but afterwards it goes on of itself, because the candle finds a supply of caloric in the successive quantities of heat which results from the union of the two electricities given out by the gases during their combustion. But there are other circumstances connected with the combustion of candles and lamps, which I cannot explain to you till you are acquainted with carbon, which is one of their constituent parts. In general, however, whenever you see flame, you may infer that it is owing to the formation and burning of hydrogen gas*; for flame is the peculiar mode of burning hydrogen gas, which, with only one or two apparent exceptions, does not belong to any other combustible.

[Footnote *: Or rather, hydro-carbonat, a gas composed of hydrogen and carbon, which will be noticed under the head Carbon.]

EMILY.

You astonish me! I understood that flame was the caloric produced by the union of the two electricities, in all combustions whatever?

MRS. B.

Your error proceeded from your vague and incorrect idea of flame; you have confounded it with light and caloric in general. Flame always implies caloric, since it is produced by the combustion of hydrogen gas; but all caloric does not imply flame. Many bodies burn with intense heat without producing flame. Coals, for instance, burn with flame until all the hydrogen which they contain is evaporated; but when they afterwards become red hot, much more caloric is disengaged than when they produce flame.

CAROLINE.

But the iron wire, which you burnt in oxygen gas, appeared to me to emit flame; yet, as it was a simple metal, it could contain no hydrogen?

MRS. B.

It produced a sparkling dazzling blaze of light, but no real flame.

EMILY.

And what is the cause of the regular shape of the flame of a candle?

MRS. B.

The regular stream of hydrogen gas which exhales from its combustible matter.

CAROLINE.

But the hydrogen gas must, from its great levity, ascend into the upper regions of the atmosphere; why therefore does not the flame continue to accompany it?

MRS. B.

The combustion of the hydrogen gas is completed at the point where the flame terminates; it then ceases to be hydrogen gas, as it is converted by its combination with oxygen into watery vapour; but in a state of such minute division as to be invisible.

CAROLINE.

I do not understand what is the use of the wick of a candle, since the hydrogen gas burns so well without it?

MRS. B.

The combustible matter of the candle must be decomposed in order to emit the hydrogen gas, and the wick is instrumental in effecting this decomposition. Its combustion first melts the combustible matter, and . . . .

CAROLINE.

But in lamps the combustible matter is already fluid, and yet they also require wicks?

MRS. B.

I am going to add that, afterwards, the burning wick (by the power of capillary attraction) gradually draws up the fluid to the point where combustion takes place; for you must have observed that the wick does not burn quite to the bottom.

CAROLINE.

Yes; but I do not understand why it does not.

MRS. B.

Because the air has not so free an access to that part of the wick which is immediately in contact with the candle, as to the part just above, so that the heat there is not sufficient to produce its decomposition; the combustion therefore begins a little above this point.

CAROLINE.

But, Mrs. B., in those beautiful lights, called gas-lights, which are now seen in many streets, and will, I hope, be soon adopted every where, I can perceive no wick at all. How are these lights managed?

MRS. B.

I am glad you have put me in mind of saying a few words on this very useful and interesting improvement. In this mode of lighting, the gas is conveyed to the extremity of a tube, where it is kindled, and burns as long as the supply continues. There is, therefore, no occasion for a wick, or any other fuel whatever.

EMILY.

But how is all this gas procured in such large quantities?

MRS. B.

It is obtained from coal, by distillation. —Coal, when exposed to heat in a close vessel, is decomposed; and hydrogen, which is one of its constituents, rises in the state of gas, combined with another of its component parts, carbon, forming a compound gas, called Hydrocarbonat, the nature of which we shall again have an opportunity of noticing when we treat of carbon. This gas, like hydrogen, is perfectly transparent, invisible, and highly inflammable; and in burning it emits that vivid light which you have so often observed.

CAROLINE.

And does the process for procuring it require nothing but heating the coals, and conveying the gas through tubes?

MRS. B.

Nothing else; except that the gas must be made to pass, immediately at its formation, through two or three large vessels of water, in which it deposits some other ingredients, and especially water, tar, and oil, which also arise from the distillation of coals. The gas-light apparatus, therefore, consists simply in a large iron vessel, in which the coals are exposed to the heat of a furnace,—some reservoirs of water, in which the gas deposits its impurities,—and tubes that convey it to the desired spot, being propelled with uniform velocity through the tubes by means of a certain degree of pressure which is made upon the reservoir.

EMILY.

What an admirable contrivance! Do you not think, Mrs. B., that it will soon get into universal use?

MRS. B.

Most probably, as to the lighting of streets, offices, and public places, as it far surpasses any former invention for that purpose; but as to the interior of private houses, this mode of lighting has not yet been sufficiently tried to know whether it will be found generally desirable, either in regard to economy or convenience. It may, however, be considered as one of the happiest applications of chemistry to the comforts of life; and there is every reason to suppose that it will answer the full extent of public, expectation.

I have another experiment to show you with hydrogen gas, which I think will entertain you. Have you ever blown bubbles with soap and water?

EMILY.

Yes, often, when I was a child; and I used to make them float in the air by blowing them upwards.

MRS. B.

We shall fill some such bubbles with hydrogen gas, instead of atmospheric air, and you will see with what ease and rapidity they will ascend, without the assistance of blowing, from the lightness of the gas. —Will you mix some soap and water whilst I fill this bladder with the gas contained in the receiver which stands on the shelf in the water-bath?

CAROLINE.

What is the use of the brass-stopper and turn-cock at the top of the receiver?

MRS. B.

It is to afford a passage to the gas when required. There is, you see, a similar stop-cock fastened to this bladder, which is made to fit that on the receiver. I screw them one on the other, and now turn the two cocks, to open a communication between the receiver and the bladder; then, by sliding the receiver off the shelf, and gently sinking it into the bath, the water rises in the receiver and forces the gas into the bladder. (PLATE IX. fig. 1.)



CAROLINE.

Yes, I see the bladder swell as the water rises in the receiver.

MRS. B.

I think that we have already a sufficient quantity in the bladder for our purpose; we must be careful to stop both the cocks before we separate the bladder from the receiver, lest the gas should escape. —Now I must fix a pipe to the stopper of the bladder, and by dipping its mouth into the soap and water, take up a few drops—then I again turn the cock, and squeeze the bladder in order to force the gas into the soap and water at the mouth of the pipe. (PLATE IX. fig. 2.)

EMILY.

There is a bubble—but it bursts before it leaves the mouth of the pipe.

MRS. B.

We must have patience and try again; it is not so easy to blow bubbles by means of a bladder, as simply with the breath.

CAROLINE.

Perhaps there is not soap enough in the water; I should have had warm water, it would have dissolved the soap better.

EMILY.

Does not some of the gas escape between the bladder and the pipe?

MRS. B.

No, they are perfectly air tight; we shall succeed presently, I dare say.

CAROLINE.

Now a bubble ascends; it moves with the rapidity of a balloon. How beautifully it refracts the light!

EMILY.

It has burst against the ceiling—you succeed now wonderfully; but why do they all ascend and burst against the ceiling?

MRS. B.

Hydrogen gas is so much lighter than atmospherical air, that it ascends rapidly with its very light envelope, which is burst by the force with which it strikes the ceiling.

Air-balloons are filled with this gas, and if they carried no other weight than their covering, would ascend as rapidly as these bubbles.

CAROLINE.

Yet their covering must be much heavier than that of these bubbles?

MRS. B.

Not in proportion to the quantity of gas they contain. I do not know whether you have ever been present at the filling of a large balloon. The apparatus for that purpose is very simple. It consists of a number of vessels, either jars or barrels, in which the materials for the formation of the gas are mixed, each of these being furnished with a tube, and communicating with a long flexible pipe, which conveys the gas into the balloon.

EMILY.

But the fire-balloons which were first invented, and have been since abandoned, on account of their being so dangerous, were constructed, I suppose, on a different principle.

MRS. B.

They were filled simply with atmospherical air, considerably rarefied by heat; and the necessity of having a fire underneath the balloon, in order to preserve the rarefaction of the air within it, was the circumstance productive of so much danger.

If you are not yet tired of experiments, I have another to show you. It consists in filling soap-bubbles with a mixture of hydrogen and oxygen gases, in the proportions that form water; and afterwards setting fire to them.

EMILY.

They will detonate, I suppose?

MRS. B.

Yes, they will. As you have seen the method of transferring the gas from the receiver into the bladder, it is not necessary to repeat it. I have therefore provided a bladder which contains a due proportion of oxygen and hydrogen gases, and we have only to blow bubbles with it.

CAROLINE.

Here is a fine large bubble rising—shall I set fire to it with the candle?

MRS. B.

If you please . . . .

CAROLINE.

Heavens, what an explosion! —It was like the report of a gun: I confess it frightened me much. I never should have imagined it could be so loud.

EMILY.

And the flash was as vivid as lightning.

MRS. B.

The combination of the two gases takes place during that instant of time that you see the flash, and hear the detonation.

EMILY.

This has a strong resemblance to thunder and lightning.

MRS. B.

These phenomena, however, are generally of an electrical nature. Yet various meteorological effects may be attributed to accidental detonations of hydrogen gas in the atmosphere; for nature abounds with hydrogen: it constitutes a very considerable portion of the whole mass of water belonging to our globe, and from that source almost every other body obtains it. It enters into the composition of all animal substances, and of a great number of minerals; but it is most abundant in vegetables. From this immense variety of bodies, it is often spontaneously disengaged; its great levity makes it rise into the superior regions of the atmosphere; and when, either by an electrical spark, or any casual elevation of temperature, it takes fire, it may produce such meteors or luminous appearances as are occasionally seen in the atmosphere. Of this kind are probably those broad flashes which we often see on a summer-evening, without hearing any detonation.

EMILY.

Every flash, I suppose, must produce a quantity of water?

CAROLINE.

And this water, naturally, descends in the form of rain?

MRS. B.

That probably is often the case, though it is not a necessary consequence; for the water may be dissolved by the atmosphere, as it descends towards the lower regions, and remain there in the form of clouds.

The application of electrical attraction to chemical phenomena is likely to lead to many very interesting discoveries in meteorology; for electricity evidently acts a most important part in the atmosphere. This subject however, is, as yet, not sufficiently developed for me to venture enlarging upon it. The phenomena of the atmosphere are far from being well understood; and even with the little that is known, I am but imperfectly acquainted.

But before we take leave of hydrogen, I must not omit to mention to you a most interesting discovery of Sir H. Davy, which is connected with this subject.

CAROLINE.

You allude, I suppose, to the new miner's lamp, which has of late been so much talked of? I have long been desirous of knowing what that discovery was, and what purpose it was intended to answer.

MRS. B.

It often happens in coal-mines, that quantities of the gas, called by chemists hydro-carbonat, or by the miners fire-damp, (the same from which the gas-lights are obtained,) ooze out from fissures in the beds of coal, and fill the cavities in which the men are at work; and this gas being inflammable, the consequence is, that when the men approach those places with a lighted candle, the gas takes fire, and explosions happen which destroy the men and horses employed in that part of the colliery, sometimes in great numbers.

EMILY.

What tremendous accidents these must be! But whence does that gas originate?

MRS. B.

Being the chief product of the combustion of coal, no wonder that inflammable gas should occasionally appear in situations in which this mineral abounds, since there can be no doubt that processes of combustion are frequently taking place at a great depth under the surface of the earth; and therefore those accumulations of gas may arise either from combustions actually going on, or from former combustions, the gas having perhaps been confined there for ages.

CAROLINE.

And how does Sir H. Davy's lamp prevent those dreadful explosions?

MRS. B.

By a contrivance equally simple and ingenious; and one which does no less credit to the philosophical views from which it was deduced, than to the philanthropic motives from which the enquiry sprung. The principle of the lamp is shortly this: It was ascertained, two or three years ago, both by Mr. Tennant and by Sir Humphry himself, that the combustion of inflammable gas could not be propagated through small tubes; so that if a jet of an inflammable gaseous mixture, issuing from a bladder or any other vessel, through a small tube, be set fire to, it burns at the orifice of the tube, but the flame never penetrates into the vessel. It is upon this fact that Sir Humphry's safety-lamp is founded.

EMILY.

But why does not the flame ever penetrate through the tube into the vessel from which the gas issues, so as to explode at once the whole of the gas?

MRS. B.

Because, no doubt, the inflamed gas is so much cooled in its passage through a small tube as to cease to burn before the combustion reaches the reservoir.

CAROLINE.

And how can this principle be applied to the construction of a lamp?

MRS. B.

Nothing easier. You need only suppose a lamp enclosed all round in glass or horn, but having a number of small open tubes at the bottom, and others at the top, to let the air in and out. Now, if such a lamp or lanthorn be carried into an atmosphere capable of exploding, an explosion or combustion of the gas will take place within the lamp; and although the vent afforded by the tubes will save the lamp from bursting, yet, from the principle just explained, the combustion will not be propagated to the external air through the tubes, so that no farther consequence will ensue.

EMILY.

And is that all the mystery of that valuable lamp?

MRS. B.

No; in the early part of the enquiry a lamp of this kind was actually proposed; but it was but a rude sketch compared to its present state of improvement. Sir H. Davy, after a succession of trials, by which he brought his lamp nearer and nearer to perfection, at last conceived the happy idea that if the lamp were surrounded with a wire-work or wire-gauze, of a close texture, instead of glass or horn, the tubular contrivance I have just described would be entirely superseded, since each of the interstices of the gauze would act as a tube in preventing the propagation of explosions; so that this pervious metallic covering would answer the various purposes of transparency, of permeability to air, and of protection against explosion. This idea, Sir Humphry immediately submitted to the test of experiment, and the result has answered his most sanguine expectations, both in his laboratory and in the collieries, where it has already been extensively tried. And he has now the happiness of thinking that his invention will probably be the means of saving every year a number of lives, which would have been lost in digging out of the bowels of the earth one of the most valuable necessaries of life. Here is one of these lamps, every part of which you will at once comprehend. (See PLATE X. fig. 1.)



CAROLINE.

How very simple and ingenious! But I do not yet well see why an explosion taking place within the lamp should not communicate to the external air around it, through the interstices of the wire?

MRS. B.

This has been and is still a subject of wonder, even to philosophers; and the only mode they have of explaining it is, that flame or ignition cannot pass through a fine wire-work, because the metallic wire cools the flame sufficiently to extinguish it in passing through the gauze. This property of the wire-gauze is quite similar to that of the tubes which I mentioned on introducing the subject; for you may consider each interstice of the gauze as an extremely short tube of a very small diameter.

EMILY.

But I should expect the wire would often become red-hot, by the burning of the gas within the lamp?

MRS. B.

And this is actually the case, for the top of the lamp is very apt to become red-hot. But, fortunately, inflammable gaseous mixtures cannot be exploded by red-hot wire, the intervention of actual flame being required for that purpose; so that the wire does not set fire to the explosive gas around it.

EMILY.

I can understand that; but if the wire be red-hot, how can it cool the flame within, and prevent its passing through the gauze?

MRS. B.

The gauze, though red-hot, is not so hot as the flame by which it has been heated; and as metallic wire is a good conductor, the heat does not much accumulate in it, as it passes off quickly to the other parts of the lamp, as well as to any contiguous bodies.

CAROLINE.

This is indeed a most interesting discovery, and one which shows at once the immense utility with which science may be practically applied to some of the most important purposes.



CONVERSATION VIII.

ON SULPHUR AND PHOSPHORUS.

MRS. B.

SULPHUR is the next substance that comes under our consideration. It differs in one essential point from the preceding, as it exists in a solid form at the temperature of the atmosphere.

CAROLINE.

I am glad that we have at last a solid body to examine; one that we can see and touch. Pray, is it not with sulphur that the points of matches are covered, to make them easily kindle?

MRS. B.

Yes, it is; and you therefore already know that sulphur is a very combustible substance. It is seldom discovered in nature in a pure unmixed state; so great is its affinity for other substances, that it is almost constantly found combined with some of them. It is most commonly united with metals, under various forms, and is separated from them by a very simple process. It exists likewise in many mineral waters, and some vegetables yield it in various proportions, especially those of the cruciform tribe. It is also found in animal matter; in short, it may be discovered in greater or less quantity, in the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms.

EMILY.

I have heard of flowers of sulphur, are they the produce of any plant?

MRS. B.

By no means: they consist of nothing more than common sulphur, reduced to a very fine powder by a process called sublimation. —You see some of it in this phial; it is exactly the same substance as this lump of sulphur, only its colour is a paler yellow, owing to its state of very minute division.

EMILY.

Pray what is sublimation?

MRS. B.

It is the evaporation, or, more properly speaking, the volatilisation of solid substances, which, in cooling, condense again in a concrete form. The process, in this instance, must be performed in a closed vessel, both to prevent combustion, which would take place if the access of air were not carefully precluded, and likewise in order to collect the substance after the operation. As it is rather a slow process, we shall not try the experiment now; but you will understand it perfectly if I show you the apparatus used for the purpose. (PLATE XI. fig. 1.) Some lumps of sulphur are put into a receiver of this kind, which is called a cucurbit. Its shape, you see, somewhat resembles that of a pear, and is open at the top, so as to adapt itself exactly to a kind of conical receiver of this sort, called the head. The cucurbit, thus covered with its head, is placed over a sand-bath; this is nothing more than a vessel full of sand, which is kept heated by a furnace, such as you see here, so as to preserve the apparatus in a moderate and uniform temperature. The sulphur then soon begins to melt, and immediately after this, a thick white smoke rises, which is gradually deposited within the head, or upper part of the apparatus, where it condenses against the sides, somewhat in the form of a vegetation, whence it has obtained the name of flowers of sulphur. This apparatus, which is called an alembic, is highly useful in all kinds of distillations, as you will see when we come to treat of those operations. Alembics are not commonly made of glass, like this, which is applicable only to distillations upon a very small scale. Those used in manufactures are generally made of copper, and are, of course, considerably larger. The principal construction, however, is always the same, although their shape admits of some variation.



CAROLINE.

What is the use of that neck, or tube, which bends down from the upper piece of the apparatus?

MRS. B.

It is of no use in sublimations; but in distillations (the general object of which is to evaporate, by heat, in closed vessels, the volatile parts of a compound body, and to condense them again into a liquid,) it serves to carry off the condensed fluid, which otherwise would fall back into the cucurbit. But this is rather foreign to our present subject. Let us return to the sulphur. You now perfectly understand, I suppose, what is meant by sublimation?

EMILY.

I believe I do. Sublimation appears to consist in destroying, by means of heat, the attraction of aggregation of the particles of a solid body, which are thus volatilised; and as soon as they lose the caloric which produced that effect, they are deposited in the form of a fine powder.

CAROLINE.

It seems to me to be somewhat similar to the transformation of water into vapour, which returns to its liquid state when deprived of caloric.

EMILY.

There is this difference, however, that the sulphur does not return to its former state, since, instead of lumps, it changes to a fine powder.

MRS. B.

Chemically speaking, it is exactly the same substance, whether in the form of lump or powder. For if this powder be melted again by heat, it will, in cooling, be restored to the same solid state in which it was before its sublimation.

CAROLINE.

But if there be no real change, produced by the sublimation of the sulphur, what is the use of that operation?

MRS. B.

It divides the sulphur into very minute parts, and thus disposes it to enter more readily into combination with other bodies. It is used also as a means of purification.

CAROLINE.

Sublimation appears to me like the beginning of combustion, for the completion of which one circumstance only is wanting, the absorption of oxygen.

MRS. B.

But that circumstance is every thing. No essential alteration is produced in sulphur by sublimation; whilst in combustion it combines with the oxygen, and forms a new compound totally different in every respect from sulphur in its pure state. —We shall now burn some sulphur, and you will see how very different the result will be. For this purpose I put a small quantity of flowers of sulphur into this cup, and place it in a dish, into which I have poured a little water: I now set fire to the sulphur with the point of this hot wire; for its combustion will not begin unless its temperature be considerably raised. —You see that it burns with a faint blueish flame; and as I invert over it this receiver, white fumes arise from the sulphur, and fill the vessel. —You will soon perceive that the water is rising within the receiver, a little above its level in the plate. —Well, Emily, can you account for this?

EMILY.

I suppose that the sulphur has absorbed the oxygen from the atmospherical air within the receiver, and that we shall find some oxygenated sulphur in the cup. As for the white smoke, I am quite at a loss to guess what it may be.

MRS. B.

Your first conjecture is very right: but you are mistaken in the last; for nothing will be left in the cup. The white vapour is the oxygenated sulphur, which assumes the form of an elastic fluid of a pungent and offensive smell, and is a powerful acid. Here you see a chemical combination of oxygen and sulphur, producing a true gas, which would continue such under the pressure and at the temperature of the atmosphere, if it did not unite with the water in the plate, to which it imparts its acid taste, and all its acid properties. —You see, now, with what curious effects the combustion of sulphur is attended.

CAROLINE.

This is something quite new; and I confess that I do not perfectly understand why the sulphur turns acid.

MRS. B.

It is because it unites with oxygen, which is the acidifying principle. And, indeed, the word oxygen is derived from two Greek words signifying to produce an acid.

CAROLINE.

Why, then, is not water, which contains such a quantity of oxygen, acid?

MRS. B.

Because hydrogen, which is the other constituent of water, is not susceptible of acidification. —I believe it will be necessary, before we proceed further, to say a few words of the general nature of acids, though it is rather a deviation from our plan of examining the simple bodies separately, before we consider them in a state of combination.

Acids may be considered as a peculiar class of burnt bodies, which during their combustion, or combination with oxygen, have acquired very characteristic properties. They are chiefly discernible by their sour taste, and by turning red most of the blue vegetable colours. These two properties are common to the whole class of acids; but each of them is distinguished by other peculiar qualities. Every acid consists of some particular substance, (which constitutes its basis, and is different in each,) and of oxygen, which is common to them all.

EMILY.

But I do not clearly see the difference between acids and oxyds.

MRS. B.

Acids were, in fact, oxyds, which, by the addition of a sufficient quantity of oxygen, have been converted into acids. For acidification, you must observe, always implies previous oxydation, as a body must have combined with the quantity of oxygen requisite to constitute it an oxyd, before it can combine with the greater quantity that is necessary to render it an acid.

CAROLINE.

Are all oxyds capable of being converted into acids?

MRS. B.

Very far from it; it is only certain substances which will enter into that peculiar kind of union with oxygen that produces acids, and the number of these is proportionally very small; but all burnt bodies may be considered as belonging either to the class of oxyds, or to that of acids. At a future period, we shall enter more at large into this subject. At present, I have but one circumstance further to point out to your observation respecting acids: it is, that most of them are susceptible of two degrees of acidification, according to the different quantities of oxygen with which their basis combines.

EMILY.

And how are these two degrees of acidification distinguished?

MRS. B.

By the peculiar properties which result from them. The acid we have just made is the first or weakest degree of acidification, and is called sulphureous acid; if it were fully saturated with oxygen, it would be called sulphuric acid. You must therefore remember, that in this, as in all acids, the first degree of acidification is expressed by the termination in ous; the stronger, by the termination in ic.

CAROLINE.

And how is the sulphuric acid made?

MRS. B.

By burning sulphur in pure oxygen gas, and thus rendering its combustion much more complete. I have provided some oxygen gas for this purpose; it is in that bottle, but we must first decant the gas into the glass receiver which stands on the shelf in the bath, and is full of water.

CAROLINE.

Pray, let me try to do it, Mrs. B.

MRS. B.

It requires some little dexterity—hold the bottle completely under water, and do not turn the mouth upwards, till it is immediately under the aperture in the shelf, through which the gas is to pass into the receiver, and then turn it up gradually. —Very well, you have only let a few bubbles escape, and that must be expected at a first trial. —Now I shall put this piece of sulphur into the receiver, through the opening at the top, and introduce along with it a small piece of lighted tinder to set fire to it. —This requires being done very quickly, lest the atmospherical air should get in, and mix with the pure oxygen gas.

EMILY.

How beautifully it burns!

CAROLINE.

But it is already buried in the thick vapour. This, I suppose, is sulphuric acid?

EMILY.

Are these acids always in a gaseous state?

MRS. B.

Sulphureous acid, as we have already observed, is a permanent gas, and can be obtained in a liquid form only by condensing it in water. In its pure state, the sulphureous acid is invisible, and it now appears in the form of a white smoke, from its combining with the moisture. But the vapour of sulphuric acid, which you have just seen to rise during the combustion, is not a gas, but only a vapour, which condenses into liquid sulphuric acid, by losing its caloric. But it appears from Sir H. Davy's experiments, that this formation and condensation of sulphuric acid requires the presence of water, for which purpose the vapour is received into cold water, which may afterwards be separated from the acid by evaporation.

Sulphur has hitherto been considered as a simple substance; but Sir H. Davy has suspected that it contains a small portion of hydrogen, and perhaps also of oxygen.

On submitting sulphur to the action of the Voltaic battery, he observed that the negative wire gave out hydrogen; and the existence of hydrogen in sulphur was rendered still more probable by his observing that a small quantity of water was produced during the combustion of sulphur.

EMILY.

And pray of what nature is sulphur when perfectly pure?

MRS. B.

Sulphur has probably never been obtained perfectly free from combination, so that its radical may possibly possess properties very different from those of common sulphur. It has been suspected to be of a metallic nature; but this is mere conjecture.

Before we quit the subject of sulphur, I must tell you that it is susceptible of combining with a great variety of substances, and especially with hydrogen, with which you are already acquainted. Hydrogen gas can dissolve a small portion of it.

EMILY.

What! can a gas dissolve a solid substance?

MRS. B.

Yes; a solid substance may be so minutely divided by heat, as to become soluble in a gas: and there are several instances of it. But you must observe, that, in this case, a chemical union or combination of the sulphur with the hydrogen gas is produced. In order to effect this, the sulphur must be strongly heated in contact with the gas; the heat reduces the sulphur to such a state of extreme division, and diffuses it so thoroughly through the gas, that they combine and incorporate together. And as a proof that there must be a chemical union between the sulphur and the gas, it is sufficient to remark that they are not separated when the sulphur loses the caloric by which it was volatilized. Besides, it is evident, from the peculiar fetid smell of this gas, that it is a new compound totally different from either of its constituents; it is called sulphuretted hydrogen gas, and is contained in great abundance in sulphureous mineral waters.

CAROLINE.

Are not the Harrogate waters of this nature?

MRS. B.

Yes; they are naturally impregnated with sulphuretted hydrogen gas, and there are many other springs of the same kind, which shows that this gas must often be formed in the bowels of the earth by spontaneous processes of nature.

CAROLINE.

And could not such waters be made artificially by impregnating common water with this gas?

MRS. B.

Yes; they can be so well imitated, as perfectly to resemble the Harrogate waters.

Sulphur combines likewise with phosphorus, and with the alkalies, and alkaline earths, substances with which you are yet unacquainted. We cannot, therefore, enter into these combinations at present. In our next lesson we shall treat of phosphorus.

EMILY.

May we not begin that subject to-day; this lesson has been so short?

MRS. B.

I have no objection, if you are not tired. What do you say, Caroline?

CAROLINE.

I am as desirous as Emily of prolonging the lesson to-day, especially as we are to enter on a new subject; for I confess that sulphur has not appeared to me so interesting as the other simple bodies.

MRS. B.

Perhaps you may find phosphorus more entertaining. You must not, however, be discouraged when you meet with some parts of a study less amusing than others; it would answer no good purpose to select the most pleasing parts, since, if we did not proceed with some method, in order to acquire a general idea of the whole, we could scarcely expect to take interest in any particular subjects.

PHOSPHORUS.

PHOSPHORUS is considered as a simple body; though, like sulphur, it has been suspected of containing hydrogen. It was not known by the earlier chemists. It was first discovered by Brandt, a chemist of Hamburgh, whilst employed in researches after the philosopher's stone; but the method of obtaining it remained a secret till it was a second time discovered both by Kunckel and Boyle, in the year 1680. You see a specimen of phosphorus in this phial; it is generally moulded into small sticks of a yellowish colour, as you find it here.

CAROLINE.

I do not understand in what the discovery consisted; there may be a secret method of making an artificial composition, but how can you talk of making a substance which naturally exists?

MRS. B.

A body may exist in nature so closely combined with other substances, as to elude the observation of chemists, or render it extremely difficult to obtain it in its separate state. This is the case with phosphorus, which is always so intimately combined with other substances, that its existence remained unnoticed till Brandt discovered the means of obtaining it free from other combinations. It is found in all animal substances, and is now chiefly extracted from bones, by a chemical process. It exists also in some plants, that bear a strong analogy to animal matter in their chemical composition.

EMILY.

But is it never found in its pure separate state?

MRS. B.

Never, and this is the reason that it has remained so long undiscovered.

Phosphorus is eminently combustible; it melts and takes fire at the temperature of one hundred degrees, and absorbs in its combustion nearly once and a half its own weight of oxygen.

CAROLINE.

What! will a pound of phosphorus consume a pound and half of oxygen?

MRS. B.

So it appears from accurate experiments. I can show you with what violence it combines with oxygen, by burning some of it in that gas. We must manage the experiment in the same manner as we did the combustion of sulphur. You see I am obliged to cut this little bit of phosphorus under water, otherwise there would be danger of its taking fire by the heat of my fingers. I now put into the receiver, and kindle it by means of a hot wire.

EMILY.

What a blaze! I can hardly look at it. I never saw any thing so brilliant. Does it not hurt your eyes, Caroline?

CAROLINE.

Yes; but still I cannot help looking at it. A prodigious quantity of oxygen must indeed be absorbed, when so much light and caloric are disengaged!

MRS. B.

In the combustion of a pound of phosphorus, a sufficient quantity of caloric is set free to melt upwards of a hundred pounds of ice; this has been computed by direct experiments with the calorimeter.

EMILY.

And is the result of this combustion, like that of sulphur, an acid?

MRS. B.

Yes; phosphoric acid. And had we duly proportioned the phosphorus and the oxygen, they would have been completely converted into phosphoric acid, weighing together, in this new state, exactly the sum of their weights separately. The water would have ascended into the receiver, on account of the vacuum formed, and would have filled it entirely. In this case, as in the combustion of sulphur, the acid vapour formed is absorbed and condensed in the water of the receiver. But when this combustion is performed without any water or moisture being present, the acid then appears in the form of concrete whitish flakes, which are, however, extremely ready to melt upon the least admission of moisture.

EMILY.

Does phosphorus, in burning in atmospherical air, produce, like sulphur, a weaker sort of the same acid?

MRS. B.

No: for it burns in atmospherical air, nearly at the same temperature as in pure oxygen gas; and it is in both cases so strongly disposed to combine with the oxygen, that the combustion is perfect, and the product similar; only in atmospherical air, being less rapidly supplied with oxygen, the process is performed in a slower manner.

CAROLINE.

But is there no method of acidifying phosphorus in a slighter manner, so as to form phosphorus acid?

MRS. B.

Yes, there is. When simply exposed to the atmosphere, phosphorus undergoes a kind of slow combustion at any temperature above zero.

EMILY.

But is not the process in this case rather an oxydation than a combustion? For if the oxygen is too slowly absorbed for a sensible quantity of light and heat to be disengaged, it is not a true combustion.

MRS. B.

The case is not as you suppose: a faint light is emitted which is very discernible in the dark; but the heat evolved is not sufficiently strong to be sensible: a whitish vapour arises from this combustion, which, uniting with water, condenses into liquid phosphorus acid.

CAROLINE.

Is it not very singular that phosphorus should burn at so low a temperature in atmospherical air, whilst it does not burn in pure oxygen without the application of heat?

MRS. B.

So it at first appears. But this circumstance seems to be owing to the nitrogen gas of the atmosphere. This gas dissolves small particles of phosphorus, which being thus minutely divided and diffused in the atmospherical air, combines with the oxygen, and undergoes this slow combustion. But the same effect does not take place in oxygen gas, because it is not capable of dissolving phosphorus; it is therefore necessary, in this case, that heat should be applied to effect that division of particles, which, in the former instance, is produced by the nitrogen.

EMILY.

I have seen letters written with phosphorus, which are invisible by day-light, but may be read in the dark by their own light. They look as if they were written with fire; yet they do not seem to burn.

MRS. B.

But they do really burn; for it is by their slow combustion that the light is emitted; and phosphorus acid is the result of this combustion.

Phosphorus is sometimes used as a test to estimate the purity of atmospherical air. For this purpose, it is burnt in a graduated tube, called an Eudiometer (PLATE XI. fig. 2.), and from the quantity of air which the phosphorus absorbs, the proportion of oxygen in the air examined is deduced; for the phosphorus will absorb all the oxygen, and the nitrogen alone will remain.

EMILY.

And the more oxygen is contained in the atmosphere, the purer, I suppose, it is esteemed?

MRS. B.

Certainly. Phosphorus, when melted, combines with a great variety of substances. With sulphur it forms a compound so extremely combustible, that it immediately takes fire on coming in contact with the air. It is with this composition that phosphoric matches are prepared, which kindle as soon as they are taken out of their case and are exposed to the air.

EMILY.

I have a box of these curious matches; but I have observed, that in very cold weather, they will not take fire without being previously rubbed.

MRS. B.

By rubbing them you raise their temperature; for, you know, friction is one of the means of extricating heat.

EMILY.

Will phosphorus combine with hydrogen gas, as sulphur does?

MRS. B.

Yes; and the compound gas which results from this combination has a smell still more fetid than the sulphuretted hydrogen; it resembles that of garlic.

The phosphoretted hydrogen gas has this remarkable peculiarity, that it takes fire spontaneously in the atmosphere, at any temperature. It is thus, probably, that are produced those transient flames, or flashes of light, called by the vulgar Will-of-the Whisp, or more properly Ignes-fatui, which are often seen in church-yards, and places where the putrefactions of animal matter exhale phosphorus and hydrogen gas.

CAROLINE.

Country people, who are so much frightened by those appearances, would soon be reconciled to them, if they knew from what a simple cause they proceed.

MRS. B.

There are other combinations of phosphorus that have also very singular properties, particularly that which results from its union with lime.

EMILY.

Is there any name to distinguish the combination of two substances, like phosphorus and lime, neither of which are oxygen, and which cannot therefore produce either an oxyd or an acid?

MRS. B.

The names of such combinations are composed from those of their ingredients, merely by a slight change in their termination. Thus the combination of sulphur with lime is called a sulphuret, and that of phosphorus, a phosphuret of lime. This latter compound, I was going to say, has the singular property of decomposing water, merely by being thrown into it. It effects this by absorbing the oxygen of water, in consequence of which bubbles of hydrogen gas ascend, holding in solution a small quantity of phosphorus.

EMILY.

These bubbles then are phosphoretted hydrogen gas?

MRS. B.

Yes; and they produce the singular appearance of a flash of fire issuing from water, as the bubbles kindle and detonate on the surface of the water, at the instant that they come in contact with the atmosphere.

CAROLINE.

Is not this effect nearly similar to that produced by the combination of phosphorus and sulphur, or, more properly speaking, the phosphuret of sulphur?

MRS. B.

Yes; but the phenomenon appears more extraordinary in this case, from the presence of water, and from the gaseous form of the combustible compound. Besides, the experiment surprises by its great simplicity. You only throw a piece of phosphoret of lime into a glass of water, and bubbles of fire will immediately issue from it.

CAROLINE.

Cannot we try the experiment?

MRS. B.

Very easily: but we must do it in the open air; for the smell of the phosphorated hydrogen gas is so extremely fetid, that it would be intolerable in the house. But before we leave the room, we may produce, by another process, some bubbles of the same gas, which are much less offensive.

There is in this little glass retort a solution of potash in water; I add to it a small piece of phosphorus. We must now heat the retort over the lamp, after having engaged its neck under water—you see it begins to boil; in a few minutes bubbles will appear, which take fire and detonate as they issue from the water.

CAROLINE.

There is one—and another. How curious it is! —But I do not understand how this is produced.

MRS. B.

It is the consequence of a display of affinities too complicated, I fear, to be made perfectly intelligible to you at present.

In a few words, the reciprocal action of the potash, phosphorus, caloric, and water are such, that some of the water is decomposed, and the hydrogen gas thereby formed carries off some minute particles of phosphorus, with which it forms phosphoretted hydrogen gas, a compound which spontaneously takes fire at almost any temperature.

EMILY.

What is that circular ring of smoke which slowly rises from each bubble after its detonation?

MRS. B.

It consists of water and phosphoric acid in vapour, which are produced by the combustion of hydrogen and phosphorus.



CONVERSATION IX.

ON CARBON.

CAROLINE.

To-day, Mrs. B., I believe we are to learn the nature and properties of CARBON. This substance is quite new to me; I never heard it mentioned before.

MRS. B.

Not so new as you imagine; for carbon is nothing more than charcoal in a state of purity, that is to say, unmixed with any foreign ingredients.

CAROLINE.

But charcoal is made by art, Mrs. B., and a body consisting of one simple substance cannot be fabricated?

MRS. B.

You again confound the idea, of making a simple body, with that of separating it from a compound. The chemical processes by which a simple body is obtained in a state of purity, consist in unmaking the compound in which it is contained, in order to separate from it the simple substance in question. The method by which charcoal is usually obtained, is, indeed, commonly called making it; but, upon examination, you will find this process to consist simply in separating it from other substances with which it is found combined in nature.

Carbon forms a considerable part of the solid matter of all organised bodies; but it is most abundant in the vegetable creation, and it is chiefly obtained from wood. When the oil and water (which are other constituents of vegetable matter) are evaporated, the black, porous, brittle substance that remains, is charcoal.

CAROLINE.

But if heat be applied to the wood in order to evaporate the oil and water, will not the temperature of the charcoal be raised so as to make it burn; and if it combines with oxygen, can we any longer call it pure?

MRS. B.

I was going to say, that, in this operation, the air must be excluded.

CAROLINE.

How then can the vapour of the oil and water fly off?

MRS. B.

In order to produce charcoal in its purest state (which is, even then, but a less imperfect sort of carbon), the operation should be performed in an earthen retort. Heat being applied to the body of the retort, the evaporable part of the wood will escape through its neck, into which no air can penetrate as long as the heated vapour continues to fill it. And if it be wished to collect these volatile products of the wood, this can easily be done by introducing the neck of the retort into the water-bath apparatus, with which you are acquainted. But the preparation of common charcoal, such as is used in kitchens and manufactures, is performed on a much larger scale, and by an easier and less expensive process.

EMILY.

I have seen the process of making common charcoal. The wood is ranged on the ground in a pile of a pyramidical form, with a fire underneath; the whole is then covered with clay, a few holes only being left for the circulation of air.

MRS. B.

These holes are closed as soon as the wood is fairly lighted, so that the combustion is checked, or at least continues but in a very imperfect manner; but the heat produced by it is sufficient to force out and volatilize, through the earthy cover, most part of the oily and watery principles of the wood, although it cannot reduce it to ashes.

EMILY.

Is pure carbon as black as charcoal?

MRS. B.

The purest charcoal we can prepare is so; but chemists have never yet been able to separate it entirely from hydrogen. Sir H. Davy says, that the most perfect carbon that is prepared by art contains about five per cent. of hydrogen; he is of opinion, that if we could obtain it quite free from foreign ingredients, it would be metallic, in common with other simple substances.

But there is a form in which charcoal appears, that I dare say will surprise you. —This ring, which I wear on my finger, owes its brilliancy to a small piece of carbon.

CAROLINE.

Surely, you are jesting, Mrs. B.?

EMILY.

I thought your ring was diamond?

MRS. B.

It is so. But diamond is nothing more than carbon in a crystallized state.

EMILY.

That is astonishing! Is it possible to see two things apparently more different than diamond and charcoal?

CAROLINE.

It is, indeed, curious to think that we adorn ourselves with jewels of charcoal!

MRS. B.

There are many other substances, consisting chiefly of carbon, that are remarkably white. Cotton, for instance, is almost wholly carbon.

CAROLINE.

That, I own, I could never have imagined! —But pray, Mrs. B., since it is known of what substance diamond and cotton are composed, why should they not be manufactured, or imitated, by some chemical process, which would render them much cheaper, and more plentiful than the present mode of obtaining them?

MRS. B.

You might as well, my dear, propose that we should make flowers and fruit, nay, perhaps even animals, by a chemical process; for it is known of what these bodies consist, since every thing which we are acquainted with in nature is formed from the various simple substances that we have enumerated. But you must not suppose that a knowledge of the component parts of a body will in every case enable us to imitate it. It is much less difficult to decompose bodies, and discover of what materials they are made, than it is to recompose them. The first of these processes is called analysis, the last synthesis. When we are able to ascertain the nature of a substance by both these methods, so that the result of one confirms that of the other, we obtain the most complete knowledge of it that we are capable of acquiring. This is the case with water, with the atmosphere, with most of the oxyds, acids, and neutral salts, and with many other compounds. But the more complicated combinations of nature, even in the mineral kingdom, are in general beyond our reach, and any attempt to imitate organised bodies must ever prove fruitless; their formation is a secret that rests in the bosom of the Creator. You see, therefore, how vain it would be to attempt to make cotton by chemical means. But, surely, we have no reason to regret our inability in this instance, when nature has so clearly pointed out a method of obtaining it in perfection and abundance.

CAROLINE.

I did not imagine that the principle of life could be imitated by the aid of chemistry; but it did not appear to me ridiculous to suppose that chemists might attain a perfect imitation of inanimate nature.

MRS. B.

They have succeeded in this point in a variety of instances; but, as you justly observe, the principle of life, or even the minute and intimate organisation of the vegetable kingdom, are secrets that have almost entirely eluded the researches of philosophers; nor do I imagine that human art will ever be capable of investigating them with complete success.

EMILY.

But diamond, since it consists of one simple unorganised substance, might be, one would think, perfectly imitable by art?

MRS. B.

It is sometimes as much beyond our power to obtain a simple body in a state of perfect purity, as it is to imitate a complicated combination; for the operations by which nature separates bodies are frequently as inimitable as those which she uses for their combination. This is the case with carbon; all the efforts of chemists to separate it entirely from other substances have been fruitless, and in the purest state in which it can be obtained by art, it still retains a portion of hydrogen, and probably of some other foreign ingredients. We are ignorant of the means which nature employs to crystallize it. It may probably be the work of ages, to purify, arrange, and unite the particles of carbon in the form of diamond. Here is some charcoal in the purest state we can procure it: you see that it is a very black, brittle, light, porous substance, entirely destitute of either taste or smell. Heat, without air, produces no alteration in it, as it is not volatile; but, on the contrary, it invariably remains at the bottom of the vessel after all the other parts of the vegetable are evaporated.

EMILY.

Yet carbon is, no doubt, combustible, since you say that charcoal would absorb oxygen if air were admitted during its preparation?

CAROLINE.

Unquestionably. Besides, you know, Emily, how much it is used in cooking. But pray what is the reason that charcoal burns without smoke, whilst a wood fire smokes so much?

MRS. B.

Because, in the conversion of wood into charcoal, the volatile particles of the former have been evaporated.

CAROLINE.

Yet I have frequently seen charcoal burn with flame; therefore it must, in that case, contain some hydrogen.

MRS. B.

Very true; but you must recollect that charcoal, especially that which is used for common purposes, is not perfectly pure. It generally retains some remains of the various other component parts of vegetables, and hydrogen particularly, which accounts for the flame in question.

CAROLINE.

But what becomes of the carbon itself during its combustion?

MRS. B.

It gradually combines with the oxygen of the atmosphere, in the same way as sulphur and phosphorus, and, like those substances, it is converted into a peculiar acid, which flies off in a gaseous form. There is this difference, however, that the acid is not, in this instance, as in the two cases just mentioned, a mere condensable vapour, but a permanent elastic fluid, which always remains in the state of gas, under any pressure and at any temperature. The nature of this acid was first ascertained by Dr. Black, of Edinburgh; and, before the introduction of the new nomenclature, it was called fixed air. It is now distinguished by the more appropriate name of carbonic acid gas.

EMILY.

Carbon, then, can be volatilized by burning, though, by heat alone, no such effect is produced?

MRS. B.

Yes; but then it is no longer simple carbon, but an acid of which carbon forms the basis. In this state, carbon retains no more appearance of solidity or corporeal form, than the basis of any other gas. And you may, I think, from this instance, derive a more clear idea of the basis of the oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen gases, the existence of which, as real bodies, you seemed to doubt, because they were not to be obtained simply in a solid form.

EMILY.

That is true; we may conceive the basis of the oxygen, and of the other gases, to be solid, heavy substances, like carbon; but so much expanded by caloric as to become invisible.

CAROLINE.

But does not the carbonic acid gas partake of the blackness of charcoal?

MRS. B.

Not in the least. Blackness, you know, does not appear to be essential to carbon, and it is pure carbon, and not charcoal, that we must consider as the basis of carbonic acid. We shall make some carbonic acid, and, in order to hasten the process, we shall burn the carbon in oxygen gas.

EMILY.

But do you mean then to burn diamond?

MRS. B.

Charcoal will answer the purpose still better, being softer and more easy to inflame; besides the experiments on diamond are rather expensive.

CAROLINE.

But is it possible to burn diamond?

MRS. B.

Yes, it is; and in order to effect this combustion, nothing more is required than to apply a sufficient degree of heat by means of the blow-pipe, and of a stream of oxygen gas. Indeed it is by burning diamond that its chemical nature has been ascertained. It has long been known as a combustible substance, but it is within these few years only that the product of its combustion has been proved to be pure carbonic acid. This remarkable discovery is due to Mr. Tennant.

Now let us try to make some carbonic acid. —Will you, Emily, decant some oxygen gas from this large jar into the receiver in which we are to burn the carbon; and I shall introduce this small piece of charcoal, with a little lighted tinder, which will be necessary to give the first impulse to the combustion.

EMILY.

I cannot conceive how so small a piece of tinder, and that but just lighted, can raise the temperature of the carbon sufficiently to set fire to it; for it can produce scarcely any sensible heat, and it hardly touches the carbon.

MRS. B.

The tinder thus kindled has only heat enough to begin its own combustion, which, however, soon becomes so rapid in the oxygen gas, as to raise the temperature of the charcoal sufficiently for this to burn likewise, as you see is now the case.

EMILY.

I am surprised that the combustion of carbon is not more brilliant; it does not give out near so much light or caloric as phosphorus, or sulphur. Yet since it combines with so much oxygen, why is not a proportional quantity of light and heat disengaged from the decomposition of the oxygen gas, and the union of its electricity with that of the charcoal?

MRS. B.

It is not surprising that less light and heat should be liberated in this than in almost any other combustion, since the oxygen, instead of entering into a solid or liquid combination, as it does in the phosphoric and sulphuric acids, is employed in forming another elastic fluid; it therefore parts with less of its caloric.

EMILY.

True; and, on second consideration, it appears, on the contrary, surprising that the oxygen should, in its combination with carbon, retain a sufficient portion of caloric to maintain both substances in a gaseous state.

CAROLINE.

We may then judge of the degree of solidity in which oxygen is combined in a burnt body, by the quantity of caloric liberated during its combustion?

MRS. B.

Yes; provided that you take into the account the quantity of oxygen absorbed by the combustible body, and observe the proportion which the caloric bears to it.

CAROLINE.

But why should the water, after the combustion of carbon, rise in the receiver, since the gas within it retains an aeriform state?

MRS. B.

Because the carbonic acid gas is gradually absorbed by the water; and this effect would be promoted by shaking the receiver.

EMILY.

The charcoal is now extinguished, though it is not nearly consumed; it has such an extraordinary avidity for oxygen, I suppose, that the receiver did not contain enough to satisfy the whole.

MRS. B.

That is certainly the case; for if the combustion were performed in the exact proportions of 28 parts of carbon to 72 of oxygen, both these ingredients would disappear, and 100 parts of carbonic acid would be produced.

CAROLINE.

Carbonic acid must be a very strong acid, since it contains so great a proportion of oxygen?

MRS. B.

That is a very natural inference; yet it is erroneous. For the carbonic is the weakest of all the acids. The strength of an acid seems to depend upon the nature of its basis, and its mode of combination, as well as upon the proportion of the acidifying principle. The same quantity of oxygen that will convert some bodies into strong acids, will only be sufficient simply to oxydate others.

CAROLINE.

Since this acid is so weak, I think chemists should have called it the carbonous, instead of the carbonic acid.

EMILY.

But, I suppose, the carbonous acid is still weaker, and is formed by burning carbon in atmospherical air.

MRS. B.

It has been lately discovered, that carbon may be converted into a gas, by uniting with a smaller proportion of oxygen; but as this gas does not possess any acid properties, it is no more than an oxyd; it is called gaseous oxyd of carbon.

CAROLINE.

Pray is not carbonic acid a very wholesome gas to breathe, as it contains so much oxygen?

MRS. B.

On the contrary, it is extremely pernicious. Oxygen, when in a state of combination with other substances, loses, in almost every instance, its respirable properties, and the salubrious effects which it has on the animal economy when in its unconfined state. Carbonic acid is not only unfit for respiration, but extremely deleterious if taken into the lungs.

EMILY.

You know, Caroline, how very unwholesome the fumes of burning charcoal are reckoned.

CAROLINE.

Yes; but, to confess the truth, I did not consider that a charcoal fire produced carbonic acid gas. —Can this gas be condensed into a liquid?

MRS. B.

No: for, as I told you before, it is a permanent elastic fluid. But water can absorb a certain quantity of this gas, and can even be impregnated with it, in a very strong degree, by the assistance of agitation and pressure, as I am going to show you. I shall decant some carbonic acid gas into this bottle, which I fill first with water, in order to exclude the atmospherical air; the gas is then introduced through the water, which you see it displaces, for it will not mix with it in any quantity, unless strongly agitated, or allowed to stand over it for some time. The bottle is now about half full of carbonic acid gas, and the other half is still occupied by the water. By corking the bottle, and then violently shaking it, in this way, I can mix the gas and water together. —Now will you taste it?

EMILY.

It has a distinct acid taste.

CAROLINE.

Yes, it is sensibly sour, and appears full of little bubbles.

MRS. B.

It possesses likewise all the other properties of acids, but, of course, in a less degree than the pure carbonic acid gas, as it is so much diluted by water.

This is a kind of artificial Seltzer water. By analysing that which is produced by nature, it was found to contain scarcely any thing more than common water impregnated with a certain proportion of carbonic acid gas. We are, therefore, able to imitate it, by mixing those proportions of water and carbonic acid. Here, my dear, is an instance, in which, by a chemical process, we can exactly copy the operations of nature; for the artificial Seltzer waters can be made in every respect similar to those of nature; in one point, indeed, the former have an advantage, since they may be prepared stronger, or weaker, as occasion requires.

CAROLINE.

I thought I had tasted such water before. But what renders it so brisk and sparkling?

MRS. B.

This sparkling, or effervescence, as it is called, is always occasioned by the action of an elastic fluid escaping from a liquid; in the artifical Seltzer water, it is produced by the carbonic acid, which being lighter than the water in which it was strongly condensed, flies off with great rapidity the instant the bottle is uncorked; this makes it necessary to drink it immediately. The bubbling that took place in this bottle was but trifling, as the water was but very slightly impregnated with carbonic acid. It requires a particular apparatus to prepare the gaseous artificial mineral waters.

EMILY.

If, then, a bottle of Seltzer water remains for any length of time uncorked, I suppose it returns to the state of common water?

MRS. B.

The whole of the carbonic acid gas, or very nearly so, will soon disappear; but there is likewise in Seltzer water a very small quantity of soda, and of a few other saline or earthy ingredients, which will remain in the water, though it should be kept uncorked for any length of time.

CAROLINE.

I have often heard of people drinking soda-water. Pray what sort of water is that?

MRS. B.

It is a kind of artificial Seltzer water, holding in solution, besides the gaseous acid, a particular saline substance, called soda, which imparts to the water certain medicinal qualities.

CAROLINE.

But how can these waters be so wholesome, since carbonic acid is so pernicious?

MRS. B.

A gas, we may conceive, though very prejudicial to breathe, may be beneficial to the stomach. —But it would be of no use to attempt explaining this more fully at present.

CAROLINE.

Are waters never impregnated with other gases?

MRS. B.

Yes; there are several kinds of gaseous waters. I forgot to tell you that waters have, for some years past, been prepared, impregnated both with oxygen and hydrogen gases. These are not an imitation of nature, but are altogether obtained by artificial means. They have been lately used medicinally, particularly on the continent, where, I understand, they have acquired some reputation.

EMILY.

If I recollect right, Mrs. B., you told us that carbon was capable of decomposing water; the affinity between oxygen and carbon must, therefore, be greater than between oxygen and hydrogen?

MRS. B.

Yes; but this is not the case unless their temperature be raised to a certain degree. It is only when carbon is red-hot, that it is capable of separating the oxygen from the hydrogen. Thus, if a small quantity of water be thrown on a red-hot fire, it will increase rather than extinguish the combustion; for the coals or wood (both of which contain a quantity of carbon) decompose the water, and thus supply the fire both with oxygen and hydrogen gases. If, on the contrary, a large mass of water be thrown over the fire, the diminution of heat thus produced is such, that the combustible matter loses the power of decomposing the water, and the fire is extinguished.

EMILY.

I have heard that fire-engines sometimes do more harm than good, and that they actually increase the fire when they cannot throw water enough to extinguish it. It must be owing, no doubt, to the decomposition of the water by the carbon during the conflagration.

MRS. B.

Certainly. —The apparatus which you see here (PLATE XI. fig. 3.), may be used to exemplify what we have just said. It consists in a kind of open furnace, through which a porcelain tube, containing charcoal, passes. To one end of the tube is adapted a glass retort with water in it; and the other end communicates with a receiver placed on the water-bath. A lamp being applied to the retort, and the water made to boil, the vapour is gradually conveyed through the red-hot charcoal, by which it is decomposed; and the hydrogen gas which results from this decomposition is collected in the receiver. But the hydrogen thus obtained is far from being pure; it retains in solution a minute portion of carbon, and contains also a quantity of carbonic acid. This renders it heavier than pure hydrogen gas, and gives it some peculiar properties; it is distinguished by the name of carbonated hydrogen gas.

CAROLINE.

And whence does it obtain the carbonic acid that is mixed with it?

EMILY.

I believe I can answer that question, Caroline. —From the union of the oxygen (proceeding from the decomposed water) with the carbon, which, you know, makes carbonic acid.

CAROLINE.

True; I should have recollected that. —The product of the decomposition of water by red-hot charcoal, therefore, is carbonated hydrogen gas, and carbonic acid gas.

MRS. B.

You are perfectly right now.

Carbon is frequently found combined with hydrogen in a state of solidity, especially in coals, which owe their combustible nature to these two principles.

EMILY.

Is it the hydrogen, then, that produces the flame of coals?

MRS. B.

It is so; and when all the hydrogen is consumed, the carbon continues to burn without flame. But again, as I mentioned when speaking of the gas-lights, the hydrogen gas produced by the burning of coals is not pure; for, during the combustion, particles of carbon are successively volatilized with the hydrogen, with which they form what is called a hydro-carbonat, which is the principal product of this combustion.

Carbon is a very bad conductor of heat; for this reason, it is employed (in conjunction with other ingredients) for coating furnaces and other chemical apparatus.

EMILY.

Pray what is the use of coating furnaces?

MRS. B.

In most cases, in which a furnace is used, it is necessary to produce and preserve a great degree of heat, for which purpose every possible means are used to prevent the heat from escaping by communicating with other bodies, and this object is attained by coating over the inside of the furnace with a kind of plaster, composed of materials that are bad conductors of heat.

Carbon, combined with a small quantity of iron, forms a compound called plumbago, or black-lead, of which pencils are made. This substance, agreeably to the nomenclature, is a carburet of iron.

EMILY.

Why, then, is it called black-lead?

MRS. B.

It is an ancient name given to it by ignorant people, from its shining metallic appearance; but it is certainly a most improper name for it, as there is not a particle of lead in the composition. There is only one mine of this mineral, which is in Cumberland. It is supposed to approach as nearly to pure carbon as the best prepared charcoal does, as it contains only five parts of iron, unadulterated by any other foreign ingredients. There is another carburet of iron, in which the iron, though united only to an extremely small proportion of carbon, acquires very remarkable properties; this is steel.

CAROLINE.

Really; and yet steel is much harder than iron?

MRS. B.

But carbon is not ductile like iron, and therefore may render the steel more brittle, and prevent its bending so easily. Whether it is that the carbon, by introducing itself into the pores of the iron, and, by filling them, makes the metal both harder and heavier; or whether this change depends upon some chemical cause, I cannot pretend to decide. But there is a subsequent operation, by which the hardness of steel is very much increased, which simply consists in heating the steel till it is red-hot, and then plunging it into cold water.

Carbon, besides the combination just mentioned, enters into the composition of a vast number of natural productions, such, for instance, as all the various kinds of oils, which result from the combination of carbon, hydrogen, and caloric, in various proportions.

EMILY.

I thought that carbon, hydrogen, and caloric, formed carbonated hydrogen gas?

MRS. B.

That is the case when a small portion of carbonic acid gas is held in solution by hydrogen gas. Different proportions of the same principles, together with the circumstances of their union, produce very different combinations; of this you will see innumerable examples. Besides, we are not now talking of gases, but of carbon and hydrogen, combined only with a quantity of caloric sufficient to bring them to the consistency of oil or fat.

CAROLINE.

But oil and fat are not of the same consistence?

MRS. B.

Fat is only congealed oil; or oil, melted fat. The one requires a little more heat to maintain it in a fluid state than the other. Have you never observed the fat of meat turned to oil by the caloric it has imbibed from the fire?

EMILY.

Yet oils in general, as salad-oil, and lamp-oil, do not turn to fat when cold?

MRS. B.

Not at the common temperature of the atmosphere, because they retain too much caloric to congeal at that temperature; but if exposed to a sufficient degree of cold, their latent heat is extricated, and they become solid fat substances. Have you never seen salad oil frozen in winter?

EMILY.

Yes; but it appears to me in that state very different from animal fat.

MRS. B.

The essential constituent parts of either vegetable or animal oils are the same, carbon and hydrogen; their variety arises from the different proportions of these substances, and from other accessory ingredients that may be mixed with them. The oil of a whale, and the oil of roses, are, in their essential constituent parts, the same; but the one is impregnated with the offensive particles of animal matter, the other with the delicate perfume of a flower.

The difference of fixed oils, and volatile or essential oils, consists also in the various proportions of carbon and hydrogen. Fixed oils are those which will not evaporate without being decomposed; this is the case with all common oils, which contain a greater proportion of carbon than the essential oils. The essential oils (which comprehend the whole class of essences and perfumes) are lighter; they contain more equal proportions of carbon and hydrogen, and are volatilized or evaporated without being decomposed.

EMILY.

When you say that one kind of oil will evaporate, and the other be decomposed, you mean, I suppose, by the application of heat?

MRS. B.

Not necessarily; for there are oils that will evaporate slowly at the common temperature of the atmosphere; but for a more rapid volatilization, or for their decomposition, the assistance of heat is required.

CAROLINE.

I shall now remember, I think, that fat and oil are really the same substances, both consisting of carbon and hydrogen; that in fixed oils the carbon preponderates, and heat produces a decomposition; while, in essential oils, the proportion of hydrogen is greater, and heat produces a volatilization only.

EMILY.

I suppose the reason why oil burns so well in lamps is because its two constituents are so combustible?

MRS. B.

Certainly; the combustion of oil is just the same as that of a candle; if tallow, it is only oil in a concrete state; if wax, or spermaceti, its chief chemical ingredients are still hydrogen and carbon.

EMILY.

I wonder, then, there should be so great a difference between tallow and wax?

MRS. B.

I must again repeat, that the same substances, in different proportions, produce results that have sometimes scarcely any resemblance to each other. But this is rather a general remark that I wish to impress upon your minds, than one which is applicable to the present case; for tallow and wax are far from being very dissimilar; the chief difference consists in the wax being a purer compound of carbon and hydrogen than the tallow, which retains more of the gross particles of animal matter. The combustion of a candle, and that of a lamp, both produce water and carbonic acid gas. Can you tell me how these are formed?

EMILY.

Let me reflect . . . . Both the candle and lamp burn by means of fixed oil—this is decomposed as the combustion goes on; and the constituent parts of the oil being thus separated, the carbon unites to a portion of oxygen from the atmosphere to form carbonic acid gas, whilst the hydrogen combines with another portion of oxygen, and forms with it water. —The products, therefore, of the combustion of oils are water and carbonic acid gas.

CAROLINE.

But we see neither water nor carbonic acid produced by the combustion of a candle.

MRS. B.

The carbonic acid gas, you know, is invisible, and the water being in a state of vapour, is so likewise. Emily is perfectly correct in her explanation, and I am very much pleased with it.

All the vegetable acids consist of various proportions of carbon and hydrogen, acidified by oxygen. Gums, sugar, and starch, are likewise composed of these ingredients; but, as the oxygen which they contain is not sufficient to convert them into acids, they are classed with the oxyds, and called vegetable oxyds.

CAROLINE.

I am very much delighted with all these new ideas; but, at the same time, I cannot help being apprehensive that I may forget many of them.

MRS. B.

I would advise you to take notes, or, what would answer better still, to write down, after every lesson, as much of it as you can recollect. And, in order to give you a little assistance, I shall lend you the heads or index, which I occasionally consult for the sake of preserving some method and arrangement in these conversations. Unless you follow some such plan, you cannot expect to retain nearly all that you learn, how great soever be the impression it may make on you at first.

EMILY.

I will certainly follow your advice. —Hitherto I have found that I recollected pretty well what you have taught us; but the history of carbon is a more extensive subject than any of the simple bodies we have yet examined.

MRS. B.

I have little more to say on carbon at present; but hereafter you will see that it performs a considerable part in most chemical operations.

CAROLINE.

That is, I suppose, owing to its entering into the composition of so great a variety of substances?

MRS. B.

Certainly; it is the basis, you have seen, of all vegetable matter; and you will find that it is very essential to the process of animalization. But in the mineral kingdom also, particularly in its form of carbonic acid, we shall often discover it combined with a great variety of substances.

In chemical operations, carbon is particularly useful, from its very great attraction for oxygen, as it will absorb this substance from many oxygenated or burnt bodies, and thus deoxygenate, or unburn them, and restore them to their original combustible state.

CAROLINE.

I do not understand how a body can be unburnt, and restored to its original state. This piece of tinder, for instance, that has been burnt, if by any means the oxygen were extracted from it, would not be restored to its former state of linen; for its texture is destroyed by burning, and that must be the case with all organized or manufactured substances, as you observed in a former conversation.

MRS. B.

A compound body is decomposed by combustion in a way which generally precludes the possibility of restoring it to its former state; the oxygen, for instance, does not become fixed in the tinder, but it combines with its volatile parts, and flies off in the shape of gas, or watery vapour. You see, therefore, how vain it would be to attempt the recomposition of such bodies. But, with regard to simple bodies, or at least bodies whose component parts are not disturbed by the process of oxygenation or deoxygenation, it is often possible to restore them, after combustion, to their original state. —The metals, for instance, undergo no other alteration by combustion than a combination with oxygen; therefore, when the oxygen is taken from them, they return to their pure metallic state. But I shall say nothing further of this at present, as the metals will furnish ample subject for another morning; and they are the class of simple bodies that come next under consideration.