GIFT OF Mrs. John B. Casserly SCIENCE FOR THE YOUNG; OR, THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF MODERN PHILOSOPHY EXPLAINED AND ILLUSTRATED IN 40 CONVERSATIONS AND EXPERIMENTS, AND IN NARRATIVES OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE BY YOUNG PERSONS IN PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE. VOL. I HEAT. THE DOINGS OF HKAT. SCIENCE FOE THE YOUNG. HEAT Bv JACOB ABBOTT, n AUTHOR OF 'THE FRANCONIA STORIES," "MARCO PAUL SERIES," "YOUNG CHRISTIAN SERIES," "HARPER'S STORY BOOKS," "ABBOTT'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORIES," &c. WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE. by Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by HARPER & BROTHERS, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington OBJECT OF THE WOEK. THE object of this series, though it has been prepared with special reference to the young, and is written to a considerable extent in a narrative form, is not mainly to amuse the readers with the interest of incident and ad- venturej nor even to entertain them with accounts of cu- rious or wonderful phenomena, but to give to those who, though perhaps still young, have attained, in respect to their powers of observation and reflection, to a certain degree of development, some substantial and thorough instruction in respect to the fundamental principles of the sciences treated of in the several volumes. The pleas- ure, therefore, which the readers of these pages will de- rive from the perusal of them, so far as the object which the author has in view is attained, will be that of under- standing principles which will be in some respects new to them, and which it will often require careful attention on their part fully to comprehend, and of perceiving sub- sequently by means of these principles the import and significance of phenomena occurring around them which had before been mysterious or unmeaning. In the preparation of the volumes the author has been greatly indebted to the works of recent European, and especially French writers, both for the clear and succinct expositions they have given of the results of modern in- vestigations and discoveries, and also for the designs and engravings with which they have illustrated them. 75690 1 CONTENTS. CHAPTEB PAOK I. THE GREAT DEVOURER 13 II. LIFE, DEATH, AND DISSOLUTION 22 III. GOING ON BOARD 33 IV. LEAVING PORT 48 V. COMBUSTION 55 VI. FLIPPY A REFEREE 63 VII. THE FIRE IN THE STREET . . 72 VIII. THE THREE RECAPITULATIONS 79 IX. ENORMOUS FORCE 92 X. TRACKS OF THE STEAMERS 107 XI. WHAT IS SMOKE? 116 xii. THE " FIDDLE" 124 XIII. BURNING OF IRON 132 XIV. FLAME 138 XV. THE BANKS OF NEWFOUNDLAND 147 XVI. MISS ALMIRA 157 XVII. MEASUREMENT OF HEAT 169 XVIII. PERSONALITIES 181 XIX. THE ICEBERG 189 XX. THE WORK OF THE ARCTIC ICE 198 XXI. HEAT A FORM OF FORCE 208 XXII. THE MECHANICAL EQUIVALENT OF HEAT 214 XXIII. THERMOMETERS 224 XXIV. FORCE CONVERTED INTO HEAT 230 XXV. THE THERMO-ELECTRIC MULTIPLIER 240 XXVI. TRANSMISSION OF HEAT 247 XXVII. SCIENTIFIC TERMS EXPLAINED 259 XXVIII. THE SEA-BIRDS 273 XXIX. OXYGEN AND THE TELEGRAPH 284 XXX. JUMPING TO GREENWICH TIME 292 XXXI. END OF THE VOYAGE 297 A 2 ILLUSTRATIONS. Page The Doings of Heat Frontispiece. Breakfast-room at the Hotel 16 Producing Oxygen 23 Tropical Forest 30 The Embarkation 42 The State-room 46 Fusion and Combustion of a Hydrocarbon 52 The Candle Flame 67 Fire in a Street 76 On Deck 84 A Furnace Room at Sea 100 An Engineer at his Post 114 Smoke 122 Going down by a Tub 128 Combustion of Iron 136 Filling a Retort 140 Gas-holder 141 Icebergs depositing Rocks 148 The Argand Burner 152 Going down by Ladders 156 Coal-miner at Work 159 Ancient Vegetation (Ideal Landscape) 164 The Stored Force recovered 167 Quantity of Heat 179 An Arctic Glacier 192 The Iceberg 195 Outgoing and Incoming Currents 205 Joule's Apparatus 216 Heat derived from Force of Friction 218 Heat converted into Expansive Force 219 Walls brought up 220 The heated Ball 220 Self-registering Thermometer 225 Xii ILLUSTRATIONS. Pg Differential Thermometer 227 Effect of Diminished Friction 235 The Waterfall (Nevada Fall) 237 Melloni's Thermo-electric Multiplier 241 Adventures among the Alps 245 Effect of the Concave Reflector 249 Cooking by the Reflected Heat of the Sun 250 Effect of the Convex Lens 252 Conduction of Heat 252 Leslie's Cube 256 The Noon Gun of the Palais Royal 257 Explosion in a Coal-mine 261 Explosion in a Foundery 264 Explosion in a Laboratory 265 The Ice-chest 268 The Cake of Wax 268 Learning to Draw 277 Horse-shoe Electro-magnet 286 Action of the Telegraph 287 Combustion of Zinc 299 Volcanic Submarine Eruption (Volcano of Santorin) 301 The Sun and his Work 303 The Alarm of Fire... 307 CHAPTER I. THE GREAT DEVOURER. LAWRENCE and his cousin John were sitting at a table together in the breakfast-room of a large hotel in New York, waiting for their breakfast to be brought in. After breakfast the coach was to come which was to take them on board the steamer Scotia, in which they had taken pas- sage for Europe. The steamer was to sail that day at eleven o'clock, and it was now about eight. The coach was expected at half past nine. " I am glad we are going in an iron steamer instead of a wooden one," said John. " We are safe, at any rate, from being burnt up on our voyage, though we may get blown up." " And yet," replied Lawrence, " iron is more combustible than wood." " Oh, Lawrence !" exclaimed John. John was only about thirteen years of age, but Lawrence was over twenty, and he had just completed his studies at a scientific school in New Haven. His head was, conse- quently, very full of scientific ideas, and his talk of scien- tific words. "Perhaps I am wrong in saying exactly that," added Lawrence. " I am not sure that I know precisely what is 14 THE GREAT DEVOUKEK. implied by a thing's being more or less combustible. What I mean to say is that it is more strictly and completely true that iron is combustible, than to say that wood is." " But, Lawrie," said John, " that can not possibly be so ; for iron is not combustible at all. You can heat it red hot without its taking fire. Besides, if it is combustible, how ijs'it thai thb^n|ydo not take fire when we take up burn- ing coals* witS them^.and how can they make andirons of *| ai^^yfSj iny|U grates? I'll bet you any thing that it is not combustible." " What will you bet ?" asked Lawrence. " I'll bet you an orange," said John, " to pay when we get on board the ship." " But we can have as many oranges as we want on board the ship, just for the asking," said Lawrence. *' Then I'll bet you a pound of grapes," said John, " when we get to Paris." " Done," said Lawrence ; " and whom shall we leave it to?" Just at this moment the waiter appeared, bringing the breakfast. It consisted of coffee, hot rolls and butter, a beefsteak, and some boiled eggs. The boys paused in their conversation to watch the movements of the waiter in ar- ranging these things upon the table. Their minds, too, were occupied in agreeable anticipations of the pleasure of having so good a breakfast. It may seem rather disrespectful to Lawrence to desig- nate him as a boy, but the major a gentleman who was going to make the voyage with them, and who was a rela- tive of theirs having been accustomed to call Lawrence and John both boys when they were younger, still contin- ued the practice, and I shall take the same liberty, on ac- count of the convenience of it. When the waiter had arranged every thing properly FLIPPY. 1 7 upon the table, he lifted the cover from the beefsteak and went away. " We'll leave it to the major," said John. " This is a nice steak," said Lawrence. The steak did indeed look very nice, as it lay in the midst of its rich gravy upon the oval dish. Lawrence took up a knife and fork and began to divide it into two parts, in order to put one part upon a plate for John. " On the whole," said he, after he had given John his portion of the steak, and had also poured him out a cup of coffee " on the whole, I think we will give up the bet. It is not a good plan to make bets. I will explain to you how it is that iron is more strictly and completely combus- tible than wood, and then you can judge for yourself.". " Yes," replied John, " that will be better." Just then, in looking up, John's eyes fell upon the figure of a boy a little younger than himself, who was standing at the door. As soon as he saw John looking at him, he began to make up laughable faces at him and perform va- rious antics, without, however, making any noise, so that he did not attract the attention of any body else in the room. " Ah !" said John, " there's Flippy." " Flippy !" repeated Lawrence. " That's a funny name." " Well, he's a funny fellow," said John, " and he ought to have a funny name." " But what is his real name ?" asked Lawrence. " Flippy is no name at all." " I don't know what his real name is," said John. " They call him Flippy. And he is going with us across the At- lantic." " That is good," said Lawrence ; " for now you will have a playmate on board." During this conversation John had beckoned to Flippy 18 . THE GREAT DEVOUEER. several times to come to them. Flippy had, however, taken no notice of this invitation, but still stood in the doorway. He was rather short and thick in form, but his countenance was frank and open, and it wore a good-natured and rather pleasing expression. Lawrence thought at first that the reason why Flippy did not come, in compliance with John's beckoning, was that he was afraid. But he soon found that bashfulness was not the cause which kept him back, for, after waiting a moment, he suddenly walked in, apparently entirely at his ease, and came through the room to the table where Lawrence and John were sitting. " I wish my breakfast was ready," said he. " I've got a devouring appetite." " That's right," said Lawrence. " You had better have a good appetite now, for I'm afraid you will have very lit- tle after you've been at sea twenty-four hours. Do you think you could devour a large piece of beefsteak this morning ?" Flippy said he could ; and then Lawrence asked him and John what they thought was the greatest devourer in the world. " Is it a conundrum ?" asked Flippy. " No," said Lawrence, " it is a serious question." " I wish it was a conundrum," said Flippy. " I can guess conundrums first-rate." " No, it is not a conundrum," repeated Lawrence ; " it is a serious question." " The lion," said John, guessing. " No," said Lawrence. " The lion is a great devourer, but not nearly so great as the one I am thinking of." " Then it must be the tiger," said John. " No," replied 'Lawrence, shaking his head. " Then it must be the whale," said John. " Whales de- OXYGEN. 19 vour an enormous quantity of little fishes, and squids, and such things. They strain them out of the water when they spout. I read it in a book." '' " No," replied Lawrence, " it is not the whale." " I know what it is," said Flippy. " It is rats." Lawrence laughed. "Why, you see, the reason why the rats devour so much," said Flippy, looking very serious, " is because there are so many of them. There are more rats in the world than any thing else." Lawrence said that Flippy had made a very good guess, for rats really were great devourers, and there were so many of them in the world, as Flippy said, that the amount that was eaten up by the whole race was enormous. But the devourer that he was thinking of beat the rats entirely. It consumed more than all the lions, tigers, whales, and rats a hundred times over. It was oxygen. " What's that ?" asked Flippy. " It is something in the air," said Lawrence. "Yes," said John. "I know about that. It is gas." " It is gas while it is in the air," replied Lawrence, " but when it has devoured any thing it often becomes liquid or solid, in union with what it has devoured. There is more of it in the world than there is of any thing else. It forms about one quarter of the substance of the air, about one half of nearly all the rocks and earth, and nearly nine tenths of all the water in the rivers and in the sea. So you see, Flippy, that there is a greater amount of oxygen in the world than even of rats. "But then," continued Lawrence, "it is only that portion of the oxygen which is in the air that acts as a devourer. All that is in the rocks and in the ground, and also all that which forms a part of the water of the rivers and of the sea, has got its fill with what it has already devoured, 20 THE GREAT DEVOURER. and wants no more. What is in the air is free and hungry. It is all the time on the watch for something to devour." Here Flippy began to look a little weary. John, who had read and studied somewhat on these subjects, was quite interested in what Lawrence was saying, simply be- cause he knew something about it already. He had read about oxygen, and had heard some lectures about it, and had seen the lecturer' prepare some of it ; that is, separate a portion of it from certain substances with which it was combined, so as to obtain some jars of it pure, and then burn phosphorus, and charcoal, and sulphur, and other combustibles in it, thus producing a very intense ignition and a very brilliant light. But he had never before heard how vast a portion of what exists in this world, whether air, or water, or land, consists of this substance, and still less had he ever heard that the land and sea are formed of substances with which oxygen is already combined, and that it lies quiet in them in consequence of being satisfied with the combination; while that which is in the air is free, and is all the time on the watch for something which it too could devour. So John was very much interested in what Lawrence said. But Flippy, knowing nothing about oxygen at all, was not interested, and soon went away. If it had been about the devourings of lions, tigers, or rats, he too would have been interested, and would have remained, for he knew something about such devourers as those. And this is an illustration of one of the great advantages of learning. When you know a little about any thing, that knowledge adds greatly to the pleasure and interest you take in learning more. If a man were to deliver a lecture on fishing to a company of boys, those would be most in- terested in the lecture who knew most about fishing be- fore. If the lecture were upon electricity, those would like VALUE OF KNOWLEDGE. 21 it best who had had electric machines themselves, and had learned something of the science by their own experiments. So a great many more people in this country are interested in reading books of travels in England than in France, be- cause they know more about England than about France ; and more are interested in reading about France than about India, because they know more about France than about India. This is a great encouragement to us all to acquire knowl- edge by every means in our power, for we not only have the pleasure of knowing what we learn at the time, but we lay up for ourselves a future reward by adding to the zest, that is, the intensity, of the pleasure we shall derive from the additional knowledge on the same subject which we may acquire at any future time. 22 LIFE, DEATH, AND DISSOLUTION. CHAPTER II. LIFE, DEATH, AND DISSOLUTION. " WE boys prepared some oxygen ourselves once," said John. " We learned how to do it at the lecture, at school." " How did you do it ?" asked Lawrence. " Why, we put the materials in a bottle," said John, " and put a pipe-stem through the cork, and then fitted an India-rubber tube to the top of the pipe-stem, and carried the end of the tube under a glass jar, which we held upside down in the water in a water-pail. Pretty soon the oxy- gen gas began to come over through the pipe and the tube, and bubbled up in the jar, until all the water in the jar was driven out, and it was filled with oxygen instead. Then we slid a plate under the mouth of the jar, and turned it right side up, and set it on the table. Only we kept the plate on it, to prevent the oxygen from coming out. You see the jar was full of oxygen gas, but it did not look like any thing at all. It looked just as if the jar was empty, or, at least, as if there was nothing in it but air."* " How do you know there was any thing in it but air ?"- asked Lawrence. " Oh, we burned some things in it," replied John, " and * The opposite cut illustrates an apparatus for producing oxygen. It consists of a stand, with rests to support a spirit-lamp and a glass retort ; a tank for holding water, and jars for collecting oxygen. Into the retort, which holds a pint, are placed three ounces of chlorate of potassia and an ounce of peroxide of manganese ; the beak of the retort is placed under water in the tank, just below the mouth of an inverted jar, which rests on a shelf. The lamp is then lighted, and the oxygen, disengaged, rises through the water into the jar. PREPARING OXYGEN. 23 they burned a great deal brighter than they would in the air." " The oxygen devoured them very eagerly," said Law- rence. "Only we broke our jar," said John. "We had a little, bit of phosphorus that the professor gave us. We kept it in a little phial in water for it will take fire and burn of itself if it comes to the air." " Yes," replied Lawrence ; " oxygen has a tremendously voracious appetite for phosphorus. It will seize upon it furiously wherever it can get at it. The only means of keeping it out of the oxygen's way is to keep it under water." " Yes, but there is one thing that I don't understand," said John. " Water itself is about nine tenths oxygen." " It is nearer eight ninths," said Lawrence. " You said nine tenths, I thought," rejoined John. "Nine tenths of the water, one quarter of the air, and one half the rocks and the ground." " I am glad you remember so well," said Lawrence. " I PRODUCING OXYGEN. 24 LIFE, DEATH, AND DISSOLUTION. said about nine tenths, as I only meant to give you a gen- eral idea how large a proportion of water is composed of oxygen. It is really about eight ninths. That is, there are eight parts of oxygen to one of hydrogen." . "Well, no matter about the exact proportion," said John. " At any rate, there is a great deal. In fact, water is nearly all oxygen. Now, if oxygen is so voracious after phosphorus, how can it be kept under water any better than in the air? Why doesn't the oxygen that is in the water attack it and devour it ?" " Because the oxygen that is in the water," replied Law- rence, " has its appetite satisfied by the hydrogen which it has already devoured; while that which is in the air is free, or, at least, comparatively free, and so is still hungry." " Or, in other words," continued Lawrence, " to give up representing the oxygen as a wild beast, and to talk plain English about it, the oxygen in water is already combined with hydrogen, for which it has a prodigiously strong af- finity, and all its force is expended and neutralized. It will not leave the hydrogen for the sake of the phosphorus. Whereas in the air, the substance which it is united with is nitrogen, and it is either not combined with the nitrogen at all, but only mixed with it, and so each particle is in full and free possession of all its native force or, if it is chem- ically combined with it, it is held so weakly that it is al- ways ready to leave it and seize upon the phosphorus, for which it has a very much stronger affinity." " Yes," said John, " I see. Well, at any rate, the phos- phorus remained quiet as long as we kept it under water ; but when we took it out, and let it down into the oxygen in a kind of spoon that we made out of a strip of tin, and then set it on fire with a wire that we heated hot at one end and reached down to it, it blazed out tremendously, and made such a bright light that it dazzled us to look at THE ABUNDANCE OF OXYGEN. 25 it, till it was hid by the white smoke ; and by-and-by some drops fell down into the bottom of the jar and broke it, and all the white smoke came out into the room. As soon as the jar cracked, the boys all ran off toward the door. They thought they were going to be blown up." Here John laughed at the recollection of the panic which was occasioned among the boys at the close of their ex- periment. " Then you know something about oxygen, it seems," said Lawrence " at least about its nature and action on a small scale." "Yes," replied John; "but I did not know any thing about there being such enormous quantities of it in the world." Lawrence was perfectly correct in his statements. The quantity of oxygen in the world is really enormous, form- ing, as it would seem, more than one half of all that por- tion of the material world which comes under our observa- tion. How far this abundance of oxygen may extend into the interior of the earth we do not know. But in the at- mosphere, in the water of the sea and of the rivers, and in all that portion of the solid substance of the earth which lies near enough to the surface to be examined by man, oxygen forms the principal constituent. Of this, however, it is only that which is in the air that is free. All that is in the water, and in the earth, has its prodigious chemical affinity, or its " voracious appetite," as Lawrence called it, satisfied with the substances with which it is already combined ; and there are very few sub- stances for which it will quit those which it already thus holds to enter into any new combinations. That which is in the air, however, is free, or at least comparatively free, and is ready to attack and devour any thing that comes within its reach. B 26 LIFE, DEATH, AND DISSOLUTION. When I say all that is in the water, I mean all that is in the combination which forms the substance of the water itself. There is usually a quantity of common air mingled with water, and this air contains its proper proportion of oxygen, which is free to act upon other substances, when they are wet with the water, just like the oxygen in any other air. Oxygen that is free has two ways of devouring sub- stances that come within its reach. One is quiet and slow, and the other excessively rapid and violent. At the or- dinary temperature of the atmosphere, that is, when the substances which it is to act upon are moderately cool, it consumes them slowly and quietly. It eats into iron in this way, forming rust ; for iron rust is a combination of oxygen and iron, or, as the chemists call it, an oxide of ^ron. It gradually consumes the leaves and dead wood that fall in the forest, producing what is called vegetable decay. It devours in the same way, or helps to devour, every dead animal body, and carries off in gases, into the air, or into solutions into the ground, the substances which compose it. In these, which are its quiet ways of acting, it is incessantly occupied all over the earth consuming slowly and silently all the animal and vegetable substances which are produced on the globe, attacking each one as soon as death puts the substances of which they are com- posed into its power. Some of the new combinations which it thus makes float away into the air, and some are carried by rains into the ground. And what is very curious, and also fundamentally im- portant to one who wishes to understand the grand opera- tions of nature, the processes of vegetation consist in the main of the recovery of these substances from their combi- nations with oxygen, through the agency of the heat and chemical power of the sun y and in reconstituting them in VEGETABLE GROWTH AND DECAY. 27 the forms of vegetable and animal life. They continue in these forms, protected in some mysterious way by the vital principle, until death comes to set them free again, and to put them within the reach and at the disposal of oxygen once more. The two principal substances which the sun employs in the construction of the tissues of plants, and which it has to recover, by its chemical force, from the possession of oxygen, are carbon and hydrogen. These are the chief constituents of vegetable and animal substances. The ox- ygen holds the hydrogen in water, and the carbon in a portion of the air called carbonic acid gas. But in some mysterious way, not at all well understood, the sun, by the exercise of a prodigious chemical force, working in the leaves of plants, separates these elements from their com- binations, and sends the oxygen off, empty and hungry, back into the air, while the carbon and hydrogen are con- veyed away through the vessels of the plant, and formed into wood, bark, leaves, flowers, and fruit. The oxygen can not touch them again so long as life remains. When these substances are transferred to the bodies of animals as the leaves of grass, for instance, eaten by oxen or sheep or fruits or grain by man, the animal life protects them. But when they are no longer thus protected, whether by being rejected from the system or by the death of the animal, then the turn of oxygen comes again, and they are carried off by it into the two grand store- houses of nature, the soil which covers the surface of the ground, and the air. Of course a statement made in this simple form gives only a very general idea of the leading aspect of the phe- nomena. The variations and exceptions from this general statement, and the endless multiplicity of detail which re- sult from the action and interaction of all the forces in- 28 LIFE, DEATH, AND DISSOLUTION. volved, make the whole operation so intricate that the hu- man mind can never hope to unravel all its complications. It will be of advantage, however, to the young student to keep in mind the general idea here expressed as tending to give system to his thoughts, and enabling him the better to understand and appreciate the individual facts which may from time to time come under his knowledge. The principles stated summarily are these : 1st. That oxygen is the most abundant substance in all that portion of the natural world accessible to us, and the great agent by means of which all the principal operations of nature on the surface of the earth are performed. 2d. That the active portion of this oxygen is mainly that which exists in a feeble union with nitrogen in the air; that which exists in the earth and in the water being con- fined in fixed combinations, and thus reduced to a condi- tion of inertness and repose. 3d. That the great processes of animal and vegetable life consist generally, and in the main, though with an in- finite number of variations and exceptions in detail, in sep- arating certain substances, the chief of which are hydrogen and carbon, from their combinations with oxygen, by the superior force of the chemical action of the sun acting in the leaves of plants, and in combining them in new forms, namely, those of vegetable and animal tissues. That they are protected in these new combinations in some myste- rious way by the principle of life; but that when this fails, oxygen again resumes its power over them, and bears them away into the earth or into the air, and holds them till they are once more taken in by the roots or leaves of plants, and impressed again in the service of life. And so the work goes on in an eternal round. The material substances which form the human body are subject to the same law. When the body, after death, is THE INTENTION OF NATURE. 31 allowed to take the course which nature intended, the ele- ments which compose it being no longer of use in the serv- ice of life in one form, are immediately prepared to enter it in another. They soon become beautifully transformed, and appear again in the flowers of the garden, the foliage of the forest, the verdure of the meadows and fields, or in some other form of the universal bloom with which vegeta- tion embellishes the world. Man, it seems, however, often does all he can to prevent this transformation. By his tombs, his sarcophagi, his caskets, and his chemical em- balmings, he strives to hold back the substance of the life- less body from this natural and charming destination, and, by stopping it in its transition, to retain it forever in a con- dition of ghastly and revolting decay. In doing this he is striving to thwart the intentions of nature, which it would seem, in such a case, he ought to regard as the will of God. But to return. In accordance with what has been ex- plained, if we were to go into a forest some day in mid- summer, and had eyes delicate enough to see what was going on there, we should perceive in all the leaves of the trees the incessant movement of a vast force, brought by the rays of the sun, and employed in separating the hydro- gen and carbon from their combinations with oxygen in carbonic acid gas and in water, and sending the oxygen off free ; and, on the other hand, on the ground, and in the lungs and spiracles of every insect, beast, and bird, an equally active movement, in which the oxygen is engaged in recovering possession of the material of which it had before been despoiled, and re-forming carbonic acid and water again, to furnish the future processes of life with fresh supplies. In a tropical forest these processes go on with redoubled energy, on account of the extraordinary force of the solar radiations, which are always vertical, or nearly vertical there. 32 LIFE, DEATH, AND DISSOLUTION. It thus appears that, since the element of oxygen is every where and always at work over the whole surface of the globe, and that it is the fate of every living thing to be sooner or later devoured by it, and that even all that the lions, and tigers, and vultures, and rats devour in the first instance they have to give up, as well as to surren- der the substances composing their own bodies, in the end, to the voracious rapacity of this omnipresent element, Lawrence was perfectly justified in designating it as the Great Devourer. We must not, however, fall into the mistake of suppos- ing that by the great devourer is meant fire. It is not fire, but oxygen. Fire is only an effect which oxygen produces in one of its many modes of seizing its prey ; and the sub- stances in which fire is produced by its mode of consuming them form an infinitely small part of the whole amount which it devours. By far the largest portion, indeed al- most the whole, is consumed by a kind of action which, though universal, all-pervading, and irresistible, is silent, gentle, and for the most part entirely unobserved. But it is time to bring this lecture to an end, and to pro- ceed with the account of the embarkation of the party of travelers on board the Scotia. FUNCTIONS OF OXYGEN. 33 CHAPTER m. GOING ON BOARD. JOHN had been so much interested in what Lawrence had explained to him about the great function of oxygen in re- lation to the vast processes of vegetable and animal life, and in rendering possible their perpetual renovation, that he forgot the question about the comparative combustibil- ity of wood and iron. And here, perhaps, I ought to remark, that although, in view of the rapacious appetite, so to speak, of the element oxygen, and the enormous quantities of the other elements which it continually consumes, it is natural enough, still, perhaps, it is hardly fair, to stigmatize it as simply a de- vourer. Its great function being, as we have seen, to re- ceive the materials which have been employed by the prin- ciple of life, and, after having fulfilled their purpose, have been abandoned, and to convey them away, and keep them in its custody in the two great storehouses of nature, the soil and the air, until they are again required, it might, per- haps, as justly be designated as the great receiver and cus- todian of nature's stores, ready to deliver them at any time on demand by the sun, as to be called a devourer ; and to consider it as serving and co-operating with the sun in sus- taining and carrying forward the vast cycle of birth, life, death, and dissolution in its eternal round, rather than as acting the part of an antagonist and enemy. The facts, however, are all clear, and in their general aspect easily to be understood ; and they have a very grand significance to those qualified properly to appreciate them, under what- B 2 34 GOING ON BOARD. ever figurative disguises our fancy may amuse itself in representing them. About an hour after breakfast, while Lawrence and John were setting in one of the small parlors, each with a light coat over his arm, and a small valise in his hand, an at- tendant of the hotel came in and told them that their car- riage was ready. So they went down the broad staircase, and through the wide open hall which was crowded with people coming and going, and encumbered with vast piles of trunks and other baggage until they came to the great entrance door, where a scene of extraordinary noise and confusion opened before them. The street was full of omnibuses, cars, carriages, and trucks, that were making their way as well as they could around and among each other, with thundering din. A long row of coaches and cabs were drawn up along the edge of the sidewalk in front of the hotel, and great crowds of foot-passengers were going and coming on the broad flag-stone walks clerks and men of business hurrying along, eager to reach their counting- rooms before bank-hours elegantly dressed ladies, walking in pairs groups of school-boys and school-girls, with little packages of books fastened together by a leather strap in their hands, and nurses taking children out to walk, or propelling babies in pretty perambulators. John, not hav- ing been much in the city, was much impressed with this scene. Directly before the door was a carriage, and John, on looking up to the driver's seat, saw that Flippy was sitting there by the side of the driver. The waiter who had notified Lawrence and John that their carriage was ready, advanced and opened the door of this carriage as if for them to get in. INEFFICIENCY OF GOVERNMENT. 35 "This is not our carriage," said John. "This is Flip- pyV " I thought he belonged to your party," said the waiter. Just at this moment Lawrence and John heard a lady's voice saying, " That is not our carnage. Flippy, come down !" " Yes, mother," said Flippy. " He says he's going to the Scotia." " Who says so ?" asked his mother. " The driver," replied Flippy. " That's nothing," said the lady. " He is going with an- other party. Come down ! Here's our carriage out here. Make him come down, Edmund." These last words were addressed to a gentleman who had just at that moment appeared at the "Lady's En- trance" to the hotel, where the lady was standing. He had his hands full of bags and parcels, and seemed worried and bewildered. He looked first at the carriages, and then up at Flippy, and then at his wife, and did not appear to know what to do. At length he seemed to comprehend the situation, and called out imperiously, " Flippy, come down from there this instant ! That is not our carriage ! Here's our carriage !" But imperiousness in the manner of giving commands is a very inefficient substitute for established authority in enforcing them. The most stern and determined tone of voice in issuing an order will fall powerless unless the re- cipient of it has been trained to obey. Flippy did not move. " Flippy," repeated his mother, " come down this in- stant !" " No," said Flippy. " There is no place for ine to ride outside in your carriage, and I'm going in this. It don't make no difference. It's going to the same place." 36 GOING OX BOARD. " But the gentleman will not be willing to have you go in his carriage," said his mother. " He has engaged that carriage for himself. Come down !" Here Lawrence turned to the lady and said that, if she had no objection, her son could go in his carriage perfectly well. It would be no inconvenience to him. The lady looked first at Lawrence, then at Flippy, then at her husband, and seemed very much perplexed, as she exclaimed, " What a vexation !" In the mean time the hub- bub all around her increased. The hotel waiter had put two enormous trunks upon the carriage which had been engaged for her, and was helping her husband to put in the bags and parcels. Different drivers were calling upon each other to "hurry up," and to "move on." Finally, without stopping really to decide the question, she found herself so hemmed in by the necessities of the case, that she allowed herself to be helped into the carriage. Her husband stepped in after her, the door was shut, and the waiter called out to the driver, " Jersey City 7" "Steamer Scotia /" and the carriage moved on. " I wish, Mr. Gray," said the lady, as the carriage moved away from the door, " that you would teach Flippy to obey a little better. You have no authority over him at all." "My dear," said Mr. Gray, with a gesture of impatience, " what can I do ? I ordered him positively to come down. What more could I do ?" " We don't know any thing about those people that he has gone with," continued Mrs. Gray, without taking any notice of her husband's reply. " It is very annoying !" " I dare say they are very respectable people," said Mr. Gray. " I did not see any thing out of the way. But that's no excuse for Flippy." In the mean time the carriage of Lawrence and John had begun to move too. A PROPOSITION. 37 " Good !" exclaimed John, in a tone of great satisfaction. "We're off! But, Lawrence, you should not have encour- aged this boy in disobeying his mother by telling him that you would let him go with us." "I did not tell him that I would let him go with us," re- plied Lawrence. " I told his mother that she might let him go with us, if she chose." "That comes to the same thing," said John. " Yes," replied Lawrence, " it comes to the same thing in the end ; but there may easily be two ways leading to the same end, and yet one of them be right and the other wrong." " I think you encouraged him in his disobedience," said John. " Do you ?" said Lawrence. " Then you must fine me for a misdemeanor." " Fine you," repeated John. " Yes," replied Lawrence. " I will make a bargain with you, if you will agree to it, that every time either of us commits a misdemeanor he is to be fined five cents ; and every time he is guilty of a less offense than a misde- meanor, such as we might call & peccadillo, he shall be fined two cents. You shall be treasurer and shall keep the money, and when we get to Paris we will spend it in a ride out into the environs of Paris." John readily agreed to this, but, after having agreed to it, he asked what the difference was between a misde- meanor and a peccadillo. Lawrence replied that there was not, in fact, any well-defined difference, except that a pecca- dillo was a very light offense, and a misdemeanor was something more serious. "We can understand, if you please," said Lawrence, "that misdemeanor means something that is morally wrong that is to say, something wrong in respect to the feelings 38 GOING ON BOARD. and intent of the heart such as disobedience in ourselves, or the encouraging of disobedience in others ; while a pec- cadillo is something that affects mere outward action." " Such as what ?" asked John. " Such as drumming with your knife on your plate from thoughtlessness," said Lawrence, " while waiting for your dinner to come." John laughed and said he should not do that. But Law- rence said he might do things like that, that is, things that showed no evil intention, but were only acts of thought- lessness, which were disagreeable to other people. John said if he did he was willing to pay two cents for each one, on jcondition that Lawrence would do the same. So it was agreed that for every misdemeanor the guilty one was to pay five cents, and for every peccadillo two cents, into a common treasury, and that the money so col- lected should be spent in an excursion when they reached Paris. Lawrence exercised a little innocent artifice in making this arrangement with John. He adopted it as an easy and good-natured method of maintaining that slight degree of supervision and control which is usually necessary, or, at least, often desirable, in such cases, on the part of the older over the younger of two young people making a journey together. He had no expectation of actually fining John for any shortcomings that he might observe, for John was a considerate and careful boy, and he was convinced that it would be very seldom that he would do any thing requiring interposition on his part. And then, moreover, he supposed that when accused, he would defend himself, and that in the end the fine would not be imposed. On the other hand, he had no doubt that John would watch him very closely, and often charge him with misdemeanors or peccadilloes ; and that in such cases, after a little feeble CROSSING THE FERRY. 39 defense of himself, he should always yield, so that it would be he himself who would have all the fines to pay. He thought, however, that the incidental conversations which would arise in discussing and settling the questions would be the means of making John very careful about his de- meanor, and enable him, that is, Lawrence, to check him when he was wrong, and thus to exercise a proper author- ity over him in a manner which, though in a sense playful, would still be effectual, without tending at all to irritate or vex the boy, as open fault-finding would have done. In the mean time the carriage went on, threading its way among the carts and omnibuses, through various streets, drawing gradually nearer to the river, as John perceived by glimpses of the water which now and then came into view. At length it stopped. It had been stopped several times before by "jams" of vehicles, but there seemed to be no jam here. " It is the ferry," said Lawrence. " Is there a ferry to cross ?" asked John. "Yes," replied Lawrence, "we go across the North River. The Cunard wharf is in Jersey City. We call it sailing from New York, but it is really from New Jersey." Presently a heavy jingling sound was heard, occasioned by the running of the great iron chain by which the ferry- boat was drawn up and secured to the landing-bridge, and immediately a great gate was opened, and a long train of ponderous vehicles began to come out, and, as soon as they had passed, the train that had been waiting began to go in. The boat was large enough to contain two long lines of these carts and carriages, with saloons for passengers on each side. Lawrence and John remained in the carriage, but John looked out at the window and called to Flippy. " Flippy," said he ; " hallo !" " Come up here," said Flippy in reply. " Come up here, 40 GOING ON BOARD. and see haw this ferry-boat is jammed full of wagons and teams." " I can't get up there," said John. " Yes," said Flippy, " you can climb up out of the win- dow." " Would you ?" said John, looking back at Lawrence. ".^should gain by it, at any rate," said Lawrence. " How so ?" asked John. "I could fine you for a peccadillo." " Would that be a peccadillo ?" asked John. " Yes," said Lawrence ; " climbing out of the window of a carriage to get to the driver's seat with another boy, in crossing the Jersey City Ferry, to embark for Europe, would be a first-class peccadillo. I don't think two cents would be fine enough for it. But I suppose I should have to be contented with two cents, since that was the law we made. Of course we must go according to law." " But you might call it a misdemeanor," said John, " and so make the fine five cents." "No," replied Lawrence, "it would not be a misde- meanor on our system, because there would be no moral considerations involved. Unless, indeed, I forbade your going, and you should disobey ; then it would be a misde- meanor." " John," said Flippy, calling out from his seat in front, " are you coming ?" "No," said John. Soon after this a little bell was heard, and the motion of the boat was immediately felt to be checked. A moment following there was a little bump, and then a jingling sound, caused by the running out of the great chain by which the boat was to be drawn up snug to the land- ing-bridge. The long trains of carriages and wagons then moved on out of the boat, and the one which con- A SEA-GOING STEAMER. 43 tained our travelers took the direction toward the Cunard dock. Arriving at the dock, the carriage entered, through a great gate, into a spacious inclosure, with piers, and steam- ers, and masts, and vast iron chimneys painted red, and carts, and carriages, and piles of boxes, and heaps of trunks and other baggage, and groups of sailors pulling in concert upon ropes, and other such nautical sights and sounds, combining to form a very busy and noisy scene. The car- riage went on under a long shed, passing by several other steamers, until it reached the Scotia, and then stopped. Lawrence and John got out, Flippy at the same time climbing down from his high seat over the forward wheel. They took their bags and parcels in their hands. " Let me have one," said Flippy. One of the hands from the steamer came and took from them the heaviest of their packages, and then they all went up the gangway plank on board. The gangway plank, as they called it, was a broad and well-constructed bridge, with a good substantial railing on each side, so that there was no danger of falling into the water in going on board. John, who had never been on board of any but river and Sound steamers before, was quite impressed with the solid and massive character of every thing that he saw around him as he entered the ship. The bulwarks which bordered the main deck were seven or eight feet high, and seemed to him to be a foot thick, and very solid. The main saloon, with its long row of windows the flights of steps seen here and there the paddle-boxes the monstrous frames supporting the various timbers on the deck, some appar- ently connected with the machinery, and others serving purposes which he could not understand the long and slender, but very solid-looking bridge, running across from the top of one of the paddle-boxes to the other, which 44 GOING ON BOARD. served for a walk and look-out for the captain and pilot and, more than all the rest, a view of the immense engines, which were to be seen in looking down through very large square openings in the decks, guarded by massive railings so high that Flippy had to stand on tiptoe to look over these and many other such things combined to impress both Lawrence and John very strongly with the dignity and grandeur of an ocean steamer. They only took a glance at these things in passing, and then went down below to find their state-room and deposit their bags and parcels. Flippy remained on the upper deck to watch for the carriage of his father and mother. Lawrence and John went through a passage-way which opened on the main deck between the dining saloon and what seemed to be an immense china closet, then descend- ed a winding staircase with steps covered with plates of metal, then passed through a long passage-way with doors opening into the various state-rooms on each side. They began to look about for the numbers denoting their room, when a pleasant-looking woman met them and directed them. They found their room at the end of a short and narrow passage which led between two inner state-rooms. Theirs was an outer one that is, next the side of the ship. When they entered it, John found that, though called a state-room, it was really rather a closet than a room. On one side, which was, of course, the side next the sea, there was a small round window quite high up. It was fitted with one very thick pane of glass, which was set in a very solid and heavy brass frame. This frame had a hinge on one side, and very strong screws on the other side, which, by means of a stout handle, could be screwed tight into a socket on the side opposite to the hinge, so as to fasten the window securely in heavy weather. The window was open when John went into the room, and the first thing he THE STATE-KOOM. 45 did was to climb up upon a very narrow cushioned seat under it, and look out. But there was very little to be seen. On the other side of the cabin were two berths that is, narrow beds made on shelves against the wall, one above the other ; and at the end opposite the door was a fixed wash-stand, with pitcher and basin set in a marble top, and a cupboard below. Above it was a shelf with a decanter and two tumblers upon it, set in holes to prevent their sliding off the shelf in a heavy sea ; and there were two looking-glasses, and two or three massive hooks to hang clothes up on, and two great round life-preservers, and various other conveniences. John looked at all these things one after the other, and then said, " It is little enough the place ; but I don't see but that they have put every thing in it that we want." " Yes," replied Lawrence ; " and things that I hope we shall not want the life-preservers." These life-preservers were great round rings, and John found, by rapping upon one of them, that they were hol- low. They were of such a size that a man could put them over his head and shoulders, and then draw his arms up through them, and so float in the water, supported by the buoyancy of the life-preserver under his arms. " Yes," said John, " I hope we shall not have to use them on this voyage, but I should like very much to have one of them to play with when I go in swimming in the river at home." Lawrence and John stowed their parcels and bags under the lower berth and under the seat, and then Lawrence asked John which berth he would have for his, the upper or the under one. " The upper one," said John. 46 GOING ON BOARD. " You'll have a hard climb to get up to it," said Law- rence. " That's the reason I like it," said John. " I like to climb ; and, besides, it is easy enough to climb up into that berth." So saying, John stepped upon the seat beyond where his THE STATE-ROOM. USES OF A WINDOW. 47 cousin was sitting, and thence upon the wash-stand, and from the wash-stand he clambered into the upper berth, and, crouching down in it on his hands and knees, he be- gan to look out through the little round window, while Lawrence, making a desk of his little valise, which he held in his lap, began to write a farewell note to somebody or other. " See !" said John ; " I can look out at the window all the way." " There won't be much to see," said Lawrence, " when we are out in mid-ocean." " I may see a ship," said John. " We meet very few ships on the open sea," said Law- rence. " I may see an iceberg," said John. " I hope we shall not meet any icebergs at all," replied Lawrence. " I may see a whale," said John. "True," replied Lawrence, "you may possibly see a whale." " At any rate," said John, " I like the upper berth the best." So it was all arranged, and Lawrence and John soon aft- erward left their cabin and went up on deck to see what had become of Flippy. 48 LEAVING POET. CHAPTER IV. LEAVING POET. ON the evening of the first day of the voyage, when the steamer, having taken all her passengers on board, had sailed down the harbor, and had dismissed the pilot, and was now proceeding, in reality, very swiftly, though ap- parently very slowly, out to sea, John and Flippy were sit- ting together on the deck watching the land, that was now so distant as to look like a long, low line of cloud near the horizon. The sea was smooth and the air was calm. But the rapid motion of the ship produced something like a breeze over the deck, which was, moreover, so cool as to make it quite agreeable to find some shelter from it. There were, however, plenty of sheltered places furnished by the immense paddle-boxes and smoke-pipes, and by the fixtures around the hatchway, and around various other openings through the decks. All these places were filled with groups of ladies, sitting upon camp-stools and fold- ing-chairs, enjoying the evening air and the smooth sea, and congratulating each other on their being favored with so charming a commencement of their voyage. Some of the ladies were talking with each other cheerily, and seemed quite light-hearted and gay. Others were silent, thoughtful, and sad. This was very natural, for among them there were, on the one hand, many whose hearts were entirely at ease, as, for example, brides setting out, full of gladness and hope, on their wedding-tour, and young la- dies on their way to Paris, with bright anticipations of the joys and gayeties that awaited them there, and European THE PASSENGERS. 49" mothers returning gladly to their homes and families in the Old World, after having accompanied their husbands on a business tour to the New ; while, on the other hand, there was here an American mother leaving young chil- dren at home to accompany a husband in failing health on a foreign tour, equally anxious about the sick one taken with her and the helpless ones left behind, and there a youthful couple in mourning for an only child, who, after vainly contending with their grief for half a year in their own desolate home, were now going to attempt to aid themselves in diverting their minds a little from their overwhelming sorrow by the scenes and excitements of a foreign tour, and were already half sorry that they came. As for the brides, however, perhaps I have placed them in the wrong class, in the above enumeration, in represent- ing them as leaving their native land with hearts filled with gladness and joy. The gladness and joy, in the case of such a bride, are mingled with sadness and fear. She can not help feeling that she has sundered forever the tie which has bound her to all that have ever been most dear to her, and committed herself irrevocably to a new bond, her faith in which, though she feels sure that it is implicit, complete, and unwavering, is, after all, not wholly unmixed with those half-misgivings which we always feel in intrust- ing ourselves to what is new and utterly untried. Besides these various groups, who were seated in differ- ent nooks and corners, upon camp-stools, folding chairs, and cushioned settees, there were groups of children running to and fro, delighted with the new acquaintances which they were making among each other, and with the novelty and strangeness of the scenes into which they had been so suddenly brought ; for the transition from the tumult and noise of the hotels and crowded streets of New York to the quiet scenes, and to the steady and gentle motion of C 50 LEAVING POET. * the ship, gliding over smooth water, far out at sea, now that it was over, seemed to them like a dream. John and Flippy were standing together, just before eight o'clock, looking down through an opening in the deck, and through the machinery below, to a place far, far down in the hold, where they could see the forms of half- naked men shoveling coal into the mouths of furnaces glowing with furious heat, when Lawrence came to them and asked them to go down with him into the saloon. " They are going to perform a very curious chemical ex- periment there," said he, " and I want you to see it. At least I would like to have you go, John," said he. " Flip- py can do as he likes. I am sure you will be interested in it. As to Flippy, I don't know." " What experiment is it ?" asked John. "It is the fusion and combustion of a hydrocarbon," said Lawrence, gravely. " What does it do ?" asked Flippy. " It does not do any thing except make a bright light," said Lawrence. " I should like to see it, if it does that," said Flippy, " and I'll go." So they all went down into the saloon together. The saloon was a long room elegantly decorated, and brilliant with mirrors and plate-glass. It was furnished with a long row of tables on each side, a broad passage- way being left open between them in the middle. There was a range of handsomely and comfortably cushioned benches on each side of the tables one, of course, back against the walls, and the other on the side of the passage- way. Lawrence and John had been in this room some times before during the day. Indeed, they had taken din- ner here, and now the tables were set for tea. Lawrence led the way between two of the tables, and THE EXPERIMENT. 53 took a seat upon a cushioned bench, or sofa, as it might, perhaps, be called, that extended along the wall. The two boys followed him and took seats by the side of him. The tables were all set for tea, and conspicuous among the other things that were placed upon them were two long rows of tall candles in silvered candlesticks, which extend- ed along the whole length of the room. " Who is going to perform the experiment?" asked John. " One of the waiters," replied Lawrence. John was rather surprised at this, and, looking up at Lawrence, he thought he observed something like a supx pressed smile lurking in the expression of his countenance. " Now, Lawrence," he exclaimed, " you have been mak- ing fools of us ! I'm sure you have ; and if you have " " No," replied Lawrence, " you'll find that it will turn out just as I said. I said they were going to perform a very curious chemical experiment, and there the waiter comes to do it now." As he said this he pointed toward the door, where a steward they always call the waiters at sea stewards and stewardesses was coming in with a lighted candle in his hand, with which to light the other candles. " He is going to light the candles," said Lawrence, " and the burning of a candle is truly a very curious chemical process." "You said it was something extraordinary," rejoined John, " and there is nothing extraordinary at all in lighting a candle. You made fools of us, and I think it was a pec- cadillo or a misdemeanor. I think it was a full misdemean- or, and that you ought to be fined five cents. Oughtn't he, Flippy ? He brought us down here to show us some- thing extraordinary, and it is nothing but lighting the candles, which is one of the most common things in the world." 54 LEAVING POET. " Curious" rejoined Lawrence. " I think I said curious, and I'll leave it to Flippy if it is not so. I will explain to him and to you all about the burning of a candle, and if he does not decide that it is curious, I will admit that I made fools of you, and that it was a peccadillo, and so I will pay the fine." " A misdemeanor," said John ; " it was a full misde- meanor." " Very well," rejoined Lawrence, " a misdemeanor. I will agree to pay the fine for a misdemeanor five cents, if Flippy so decides. But they are coming in to tea now, so we will wait till after tea." INSTRUCTION WELL TIMED. 55 CHAPTER V. COMBUSTION. THE people came in very irregularly for tea, and the boys proposed that they should go up on deck a little while to see what was going on, and so return afterward and hear what Lawrence had to say about the burning of candles. Lawrence said that was just what he should like, and so the boys went away. He remained in his seat and began to read. The reason why he was glad to have the boys go up on deck for a while was that he wished to have their curiosity satisfied in respect to the visible scenes and images which presented themselves to view on board the ship, before he attempted to lead their thoughts to the more hidden mys- teries of chemical action. In other words, he did not wish that, while he was explaining to them what was curious in the burning of a candle, their minds should be interested in something else. A great deal of excellent advice and instruction offered by older persons to younger is lost, in respect to its effect, simply by being ill-timed that is, by being offered at times when the minds of the listeners are preoccupied with other thoughts or other desires. It was half past eight o'clock when the boys came down. " Did we stay too long ?" asked John. " Not at all too long," said Lawrence. " The longer you can find something to amuse you on deck the better." " It's getting cold up there now," said John, " and so we have come down to hear about the candle." So the boys sat down, one on each side of Lawrence, 56 COMBUSTION. upon the seat along the wall, back of the table, and Law- rence began as follows : " You remember what I told you, John, about the sun's working all day in separating carbon and hydrogen from the oxygen in water and air, and delivering these ele- ments to the control of the principle of life in the plant ; and that they remained under the control of this principle while they continued parts of a living being, whether plant or animal, and that at length, when they were thrown off, or when the plant or animal dies, the oxygen that is free in the atmosphere, and in the air contained in water, at- tacks them, and recombines with them slowly, and holds them strongly until the sun takes them away from it again in the leaves of new plants?" John said that he remembered about this, but that Flip- py was not there when he explained it, and that perhaps he had better explain it to Flippy again. " No," said Flippy, " I don't care about it much. All I want to hear about is the candle, so as to see if Mr. Law- rence is to pay the fine." " Then," said Lawrence, " I will begin at once about the candle ; though first I must say that the chief elements that the sun takes away from the oxygen in the leaves are hydrogen and carbon, and these are the two substances that are chiefly used in making all vegetable and animal substances. " You can understand and remember that, Flippy, at any rate," added Lawrence, turning to Flippy, " namely, that all vegetable and animal substances that will burn when they are dry are composed chiefly of hydrogen and carbon, and so they are called hydrocarbons. Hydrogen burns alone with a faint bluish flame, that gives very little light. Carbon burns without any flame, but becomes of a very bright red heat. When they burn together, the hydrogen HYDROCARBONS. 5V forms the gaseous portion of the flame, while the incan- descent particles of the carbon that are in it that is, the particles of carbon that have become red hot or white hot, give it its body and brightness." The boys looked at the flame of the candle to see wheth- er they could detect the incandescent particles of the car- bon in it. " There are a great many different hydrocarbons," said Lawrence. " Wood is substantially a hydrocarbon, though the term is more generally applied to such substances as resin, wax, tallow, and oils, which consist almost exclusive- ly of hydrogen and carbon, while wood and other such vegetable and animal tissues contain a considerable por- tion of other substances. Anthracite coal is a carbon simply, for it does not contain any hydrogen, and so will not burn with flame ; and bones, and shells, and other such substances are not hydrocarbons at all, as is shown by the fact that they can not be set on fire in any way." Lawrence then proceeded to name a great variety of substances, and to ask the boys whether they were hydro- carbons or not. Even Flippy soon began to be quite in- terested in answering these questions ; for, just as it is always a pleasure to a boy to exercise his limbs and exter- nal organs in new ways that are pointed out to him, pro- vided the things proposed to be done are such as he can do, so he is always interested in the mental action of com- prehending any ideal distinction which is explained to him that is, a distinction which he does not see in the objects themselves actually before him, but which he has to con- ceive of in his mind. I knew a boy once a little fellow who had not yet learned to read whose brother gave him an excellent les- son one day in explaining to him the meaning of the word quadruped, and then naming to him a great number of an- C2 58 COMBUSTION. imals, and asking of each one whether it was a quadruped or not. He called it a lesson ; and a very useful lesson it was for the child, as it exercised, and so helped to develop, his thinking powers. And so interested was the child in the lesson that he asked for another. So his brother the next day explained to him the meaning of the word biped, and then named to him again all the various animals that he had named the day before, and asked him if they were bipeds. Of course the answers would be all the reverse of those which he had given before, when asked if they were quadrupeds. If you try this experiment, or any other which calls into action, not too severely, the thinking powers of young chil- dren, you will find that they will be greatly interested in such an exercise of their mental faculties. Only you must be careful not to make the work too difficult for them, and you must be careful to choose your time, as Lawrence did, when their minds are not preoccupied with other things. It was on this principle that Flippy became interested in being able to distinguish the class of hydrocarbons from all other substances. Lawrence talked about them for some time in a cursory manner that is, without attempt- ing to impart any special information, in order to let the boys become perfectly familiar with the word, and with the general character of the class of substances to which it was applied. Carbon and hydrogen are both combustible, but they burn in very different ways, and produce very different re- sults. Lawrence, in order to interest Flippy in such sub- jects, and thus to open to his mind hew sources of instruc- tion, directed a considerable portion of the conversation particularly to him, for John was greatly interested in such subjects already. This was simply because he knew many things about them already, while Flippy had no knowledge WHAT. IS BURNING? 59 of them at all. For, as I have said before, people are gen- erally more interested in learning more about that of which they already know something, than in beginning to learn about something of which, as yet, they know nothing ^,t jail. There is, indeed, something very curious about the burn- ing of carbon and hydrogen, but, in order that the reader may understand it clearly, it is necessary that I should first explain what burning actually is. Oxygen has two ways of seizing and combining with those substances for which it has a strong affinity. One is the slow and gentle way which it takes with these substances at ordinary tempera- tures, as, for example, when it combines with iron to form rust, or when it combines with animal and vegetable sub- stances, which are no longer protected by a principle of life, in the processes of animal and. vegetable decay. These combinations take place at ordinary temperatures. If the substances are too cold, as when, for instance, in the case of animal and vegetable substances, they are frozen, then it can not take place at all. This is the philosophy of preserving articles of food, for example, by freezing them, or packing them in ice that is, by this treatment they and the oxygen around them are kept so cool that they can not combine in other words, what we call decay can not go on. If now, however, we increase the temperature of the sub- stances gently, as, for example, taking them out of the ice, and exposing them to the warmth of a common summer day, then they begin slowly to combine. The wood, if it is wood, begins to decay, which decay consists essentially in its being combined with oxygen, and the new combina- tion being carried off intot he air. This is so slow a pro- cess, however, that a heap of logs lying on the ground would be several years, ordinarily, in being decomposed and conveyed away. 60 COMBUSTION. If now, on the other hand, the temperature of the wood is raised to a great heat about the heat, for example, of that of red-hot iron then, for some mysterious reason or othe* which nobody understands, the oxygen begins to seize upon the carbon or hydrogen, or both, of which the wood is composed, with the utmost avidity and violence. It then becomes truly a devourer. And the violence of the action shows itself in the development of an excessive degree of additional heat. This is what we call burning. The slow and gradual consumption of a substance by oxy- gen, without the development of great heat, we do not call burning / we call it decay. Sometimes it is called slow burning, or slow combustion, because the nature of the two processes seem to be essentially the same, except in the rapidity with which they take place. But the term burn- ing, or, rather, combustion, is strictly applied only to those processes of the combination of oxygen with carbon or hy- drogen which are so rapid and violent as to be attended with the development of an intense degree of heat. I say burning or combustion, as if these two terms meant the same thing. But they are not, by any means, precisely synonymous. Burning is the term used in common par- lance, while combustion is the scientific term ; and, as is usually the case in respect to common and scientific terms, the former is more loose and general in its signification, being applied to many things which seem alike in external appearance and in their effect upon the senses, though they are, or may be, quite different in their essential natures ; while the scientific term is used much more precisely, and is applied only to a certain class of effects which are of pre- cisely the same nature. Thus the word burning is applied to a great number and variety of effects produced by great heat, such as the burn- ing of lime, in which the action of oxygen, so far as the lime WHAT IS DESTRUCTION? 61 is concerned, has nothing to do ; the burning of a boy's fin- ger in a candle, which does not necessarily imply any chem- ical change at all, but only a sensation produced in the nerv- ous system. But the term combustion is only applied to the process through which oxygen, or some similar sub- stance, produces intense heat and certain destructive ef- fects, through the extreme violence and intensity of its action. It is important, however, for the reader to understand that by destructive effect we only refer to the particular combination in which the substances existed, and not to the substances themselves. No elements can be destroyed, or even injured, or changed in any degree, either in quan- tity or quality. They can only be separated from their present combinations, and set free to form new ones. Thus, when a boy throws a letter which he had written into the fire, and it is burnt up, nothing is really destroyed but the letter as a letter. The carbon and hydrogen, and the other substances in small quantities that composed the pa- per, and the iron, and oxygen, and other substances in small quantities that composed the ink, would not be changed at all. It would only be the letter as a letter that is, the particular combination of these substances that would be destroyed. The carbon and hydrogen would go up the chimney in the draft, and some of the other sub- stances would remain, to fall finally into the ashes ; but these elements, though they might be mixed with various other substances as they lay upon the hearth, or floated away into the air, would in themselves be, in their own es- sential nature, entirely unchanged the same precisely that they were before they went into combination in the leaves of the cotton-tree, out of which the tree formed the cotton, of which the spinner and weaver formed the cloth, of which the paper-maker made the paper on which the boy wrote the letter, that was burned. 62 COMBUSTION. The term combustion is thus applied to the process by which oxygen seizes upon certain other elements previous- ly existing in other combinations, and forms new combi- nations, doing this with such violence and intensity of action as to develop light and heat. These substances which are capable of being thus seized and devoured, as it were, by oxygen, are called combustibles. And this re- minds me of the question which had been raised between Lawrence and John, whether wood or iron was most strict- ly and completely combustible, which question they had not yet settled, and which they seemed to have forgotten. But they had not forgotten it. It will come up again by- and-by. TRANSFORMATIONS. 63 CHAPTER VI. FLIPPY A REFEREE. LAWRENCE explained all these things in relation to the nature of combustion to Flippy and John. John listened to it all with great attention, and even Flippy seemed more interested in it than one might have expected. He said at last that he thought he should understand it better if he could only see some of the carbon and hydrogen, so as to know exactly how they looked. Lawrence replied that there was something very curious in respect to the question of seeing those substances, which was that they, like all other elementary substances, changed their form and appearance, and all other sensible qualities, in fact, in their different states and combinations, so as to assume every possible disguise. " It is somewhat," he said, " like the case of the sub- stance of the slate-pencil, wliich is black, or nearly black, in the pencil itself, but when a portion of it is rubbed off upon the slate as happens when you make a mark with it it is nearly white. In the same manner, iron, when it is seen by itself in a pure and solid state, as, for instance, when you look at the end of a bar which has been broken off, is of a bright bluish color ; yet when it is combined with a certain portion of oxygen in rust, is of a dull brown, while yet the oxygen which combined with the iron to form the rust, as it existed in the air before it joined the iron to form the rust, had no brown color, and, indeed, no color at all, but was perfectly clear and transparent. So the substance of water, when it is in the form of water, is liquid, and when in the form of ice it is solid and hard." 64 FLIPPY A BEFEKEE. " That's because it is frozen," said Flippy. " Yes," replied Lawrence. " Calling it frozen is only our way of saying that it is cold and hard, but in substance it is only water still, just as it was before. When water be- comes of a certain degree of coldness it becomes hard, and, on the other hand, when it is heated to a certain extent, it becomes a gas, thin and completely invisible, and lighter than air. We call it then steam; but it is water still, though it has changed its form and appearance." "But we can see steam," said Flippy; "it looks like white smoke." " Very well," replied Lawrence ; " but even in that case it has entirely changed its form and appearance, for noth- ing can be more unlike in appearance, or in what we call sensible qualities, than water when it is in its liquid state, lying quietly and heavily in a bowl, and when it rises into the air in vapor in the form of a white cloud. Then, when it becomes snow, it takes the form of a white powder." " That's very queer," said Flippy. " I never thought of that before." " I think it is very curious indeed," said Lawrence. . " So do I," replied Flippy. "These changes of form are still more remarkable in the case of carbon," said Lawrence. "I thought that carbon was coal," said Flippy. "It is," replied Lawrence, "or, rather, some kinds of coal are composed almost entirely of carbon, and coal is black. But we can not say on that account that carbon is black, for these candles here along the table are com- posed in a great measure of carbon, and they are perfectly white." Here Flippy drew one of the candles near him, and ex- amined it very closely, in expectation of detecting some very minute black specks in it, but he could not. ACTION OF OXYGEN. 65 " If I had a microscope," said he, " perhaps I could see them." " No," replied Lawrence. " Not if it magnified a thousand times ?" asked Flippy. " No," replied Lawrence, " not if it magnified a thousand million times. You could not see any thing black there, because there is not any thing black there. A thing is black or white, not according to the nature of the sub- stance that composes it, but according to the manner in which the particles are arranged so as to absorb or reflect the light. Now in the candle the particles of carbon in combination with those of hydrogen are arranged so as to reflect the light in such a manner as to look white. In coal they are so arranged as to look black. In the dia- mond, which is composed almost entirely of carbon, they are arranged so as to allow the light to pass entirely through, and thus to look transparent." Lawrence then went on to explain the structure of the candle, and the nature of the process of lighting and burn- ing it. His explanation was substantially as follows : The hydrocarbon of which the candle is composed, whether tallow, or paraifine, or spermaceti, or wax, can only be combined with oxygen in an exceedingly slow and gradual manner, so long as it remains at the common tem- perature of the air; but when it is heated to a certain point, then the oxygen, if there is any near, seizes upon it with the greatest avidity, and consumes it very rapidly indeed, and with so much violence and intensity of action as to produce great heat and bright light. No one knows at all why the oxygen should act thus so much more pow- erful at one temperature than another, or why, in so act- ing, it should give out so much additional heat and light. We know something about the quantity of heat and light that is thus developed, as will be presently explained, but 66 FLIPPY A REFEREE. very little, with certainty, about the manner in which the action of the oxygen upon the hydrocarbon develops it. In consequence of this fact, that the oxygen, in com- bining with the hydrogen and carbon, develops a great amount of heat, it is not necessary to raise the whole of the substance up to the point of combustion to enable the oxygen to consume it all. It is only necessary to heat a small portion of it, for the heat developed by the combus- tion of this portion will raise the next portion of it up to that point, and that the next, and so on until it is all con- sumed. This heating of a small part of any hydrocarbon in order that the oxygen may begin to act upon it visibly, and, by so acting, develop heat enough to bring the next portion up to the right temperature, so that it can seize upon it too, is what we do when we light a lamp, or kindle a fire. We set the oxygen at work by heating up a part of its food for it. " Cooking it, I suppose," said Flippy. " Yes," said Lawrence, " you might call it that. If we cook it a little, just so that the oxygen can begin, it will go on cooking, as you call it, the rest for itself each portion in succession, as fast as it reaches it." Lawrence went on to explain that this was the way the operation proceeded in the case of the candle. The waiter brings the flame of another candle up and holds it against the wick a moment. This heats a portion of the wick up to the point that enables the oxygen in the air to combine with it. In combining with it, the intensity of the action is so great that the next portion below is heated up to the required degree, and then the oxygen combines with that and develops more heat. ISTow, if the wick went down into a candle of stone, or of any other substance which was already combined with oxygen, then, as soon as the projecting part was burned, it THE CANDLE. 67 would go out. But the candle is formed of a hydrocarbon, and the substance of it has a strong affinity for oxygen when it is raised to a proper degree of heat. But the wick, when it burns down to it, first melts a portion of it, and then draws it up into the fire which is burning in the wick. Here it is heated enough to enable the oxygen to seize it, and, in seizing it, more heat is developed by which more of the wax, or spermaceti, or whatever the substance is of which the candle is composed, is drawn up, heated, and burned. Thus the process is really a very curious one. As Lawrence explained it in this way to the boys, he told them that by looking at the candle very ,, closely they could see the current of melted /^ material flowing constantly up into the wick, where, of course, it came into the fire, and was heated hot enough for the oxygen of the sur- rounding air to combine with it, and by so doing develop more heat for melting and heat- ing the next portion. The boys looked very intently into the can- dle to watch the flow of the melted sperma- ceti as it passed up into the wick. While THE OAlrDLE doing so, Flippy observed one or two little FLAME. dark-colored motes which were floating in the melted cur- rent, and he observed that they went up first till they reached the edge of the flame, and then darted back again, as if they were burned ; and after waiting a moment near the outer edge of the candle, they came back slowly, till they touched the fire, when they darted back again as before. " Oh ! John," said he, " look at those little jiggers that keep swimming back and forth. They go up to the fire till it burns their noses, and then they start back and stay 68 FLIPPY A REFEREE. away a little while, and then try it again. See ! What are they, and what makes them act so ?" Lawrence said that he could tell the boys what they were better than 'he could tell them what made them act so. He then went on to explain that the cotton of the wick, though formed chiefly of hydrogen and carbon, which the oxygen could consume, contained also some other sub- stances which came from the earth, and which the oxygen had previously consumed that is, with which it was al- ready combined, and, of course, it could not combine with them again. These substances remain in the form of ashes, he said, when wood, or paper, or cloth, or any other such substance is burned. Even in so small a thing as the wick of a candle there is a certain portion which can not be con- sumed that is, which the oxygen can not combine with, because it is already combined with all the oxygen that it can take. This incombustible portion, or ash, as we call it, in the case of an ordinary fire, remains on the hearth after the fire has burned out that is, after the oxygen has combined with all the hydrogen and carbon, and formed gases by combination with them, which have gone away up the chimney. In the case of the wick of a candle, however, especially in candles of the nicer kinds, the particles of their ashes are so delicate and minute that most of the substance of them float away into the air in the form of a fine dust, or are carried up in the current of hot gases which are pro- duced by the combustion of the hydrogen and carbon. "These little motes that you see," said Lawrence, in completing his explanation, "are generally,! suppose, small portions of the ashes which have fallen down into the melt- ed spermaceti or wax, though they may sometimes be par- ticles of dust of other kinds that were floating about in THE QUESTION. 69 the atmosphere. But what causes them to play back and forth in that way is a puzzle. I can't tell you, because I don't know." " Can't you find out ?" asked Flippy. " No," replied Lawrence. " I have watched them very often, but never could understand what was the cause of their moving in that manner to and fro." " I mean to watch them," said Flippy, " and see if I can't find out." After hearing all that Lawrence had to say in respect to the philosophy of combustion as exemplified in the burn- ing of a candle, John admitted that it was very curious, and that he was very glad to have it explained to him, but still he contended that Lawrence, in telling them that the waiter was going to perform a chemical experiment in the saloon, had made fools of them, and that he ought to pay the fine for a misdemeanor. " On the contrary," replied Lawrence, " it seems to me that, instead of making fools of you, I have made you wiser than you were before, by explaining all this philosophy to you." " That's nothing," said John. " You deceived us, at any rate ; you made us think it was something very different from lighting a candle. Besides, we will leave it to Flippy to decide." Lawrence agreed to this, and so the case was stated to Flippy, and the arrangement was explained to him by which Lawrence and John were to pay into a common fund a fine of five cents for every misdemeanor, and two cents for every peccadillo ; and they explained to Flippy the definition which they had agreed to give to these two classes of offenses respectively. They also stated to him that the money was to be spent in an excursion in the en- virons of Paris when they should reach that city. 70 FLIPPY A REFEREE. " But that won't do me any good," said Flippy. " Yes," replied Lawrence, " we will invite you to go with us on the excursion, if you like." " Then," said Flippy, "I decide that it was a misdemean- or, and he must pay five cents fine. You see," he added, by way of justifying his judgment, " that we must get all the money we can for the excursion, so as to have a good long one." " True," replied Lawrence ; " but do you think it was any more than a peccadillo two cents." "Yes," rejoined Flippy, "it was a misdemeanor a real misdemeanor." "Good!" said Lawrence. "I'm glad to have such a strict judge. He'll be more likely to be sharp in deciding against you, John, when it comes your turn." " But I'm not going to have any turn," said John. " I'm not going to do any misdemeanors or peccadilloes at all." " Oh yes," said Lawrence. "No," rejoined John, "I'm determined not to do any thing at all." " You and Flippy will get to fooling together on the deck," rejoined Lawrence, "and will run against, or disturb the other passengers." " No," said John, " I'm determined not to do any such thing." " You will go climbing up the rigging, or mounting up to some other place, where no gentlemen, but only boys, ever try to go." "No," said John, "I'm determined to keep always in the places where I see other passengers go." " You and Flippy will get to quarreling with each other, or with the other boys or girls, about your turns at the swing." One of the sailors had rigged up a swing for the amuse- LAWRENCE'S MANAGEMENT. 71 ment of the children among the passengers, by means of rope suspended to a beam, which was extended from the top of the saloon to the bulwarks, over the main deck. " No," replied John, " we won't quarrel at all. We'll take our turns fairly." " Well, at any rate, you'll be sure to get engaged in some foolery or other," said Lawrence, " and Flippy is so strict that he will decide against you if you do. We might take Flippy in with us in the plan, if he likes." " Yes," said Flippy, eagerly, " take me in take me in." " And then John will have to be judge if I accuse you of any thing," said Lawrence. " Yes," said John, " I'll be judge in his case." "And you must watch each other," said Lawrence, "when I am not by, and I'll be judge in those cases. You see we want to get all the money we can for the excursion." The boys agreed to this, and, feeling a desire to see how it looked after dark on deck, they went out of the saloon, leaving Lawrence alone. As they walked away, he said to himself, with a smile of satisfaction on his face, " I don't think I shall actually collect many fines from them, but, on the contrary, shall probably have several to pay myself; but if I can induce the boys to watch each other, and consent good-humoredly to be watched and checked by me in their boyishness, during the voyage, just, by being fined myself now and then a few cents for a peccadillo or a misdemeanor, it will be one of the best in- vestments of petty cash I ever made. V2 THE FIRE IN THE STREET. CHAPTER VIL THE FIRE IN THE STREET. FLIPPY had not taken any very deep interest in Law- rence's explanation of the philosophy of the burning of a candle, though he had listened tolerably attentively, and had answered pretty well the questions which Lawrence had asked, and had even asked some questions himself, showing that his curiosity on the subject was at least par- tially awakened. But Lawrence was well aware that in respect to the interest of children in the acquisition of knowledge, as well as to their progress and improvement in all respects, as, indeed, it is in respect to every thing desirable that we wish to obtain from others, to be thank- ful for little is the best way to get more. Accordingly, for a few days after this Lawrence said nothing to either of the boys about the philosophy of com- bustion, or about any other scientific subject, but talked to them, and especially to Flippy, about what they saw around them on board the ship, explaining to them the ac- tion and use of all the various fixtures and contrivances which they observed upon the deck and about the rigging. He showed them the boats, eight or ten in number, which were placed along the sides, and pointed out the ways in which they were suspended and secured, so that they should at once be out of the way of the passengers, and safe from the shocks of the seas, and at the same time so suspended by tackles and blocks upon turning cranes, called davits, that they could be swung out over the ship's side and let down into the water at very short notice, and ON DECK. 73 in a very rapid manner, in case any accident should hap- pen requiring the use of them. Some of these boats were bottom upward, and were fully furnished with oars, sails, water-casks, and every thing else which could be required in case of emergency, all care- fully lashed in their places and otherwise secured, and pro- tected, moreover, by the bottom of the boat, which served as a roof over them. He also showed them the compasses, of which there were several along the main deck, and one upon the bridge which led across from one paddle-box to another, for the walk of the captain and the pilot. He also took them both about from place to place, and asked them a great many questions about what they observed, to see if they could find out what the different things were, and what they were for ; and when they did not know and could not find out, he explained to them, if he knew, what the thing was or was for, and, if not, he said frankly that he did not know. " We must ask some of the officers," said John, in one such case. There were a number of officers to be seen walking to and fro, at their posts, in various parts of the deck. They were known by a kind of uniform cap which they wore. " No," replied Lawrence, " we must find out in some other way than that. It is against the rules of etiquette on board a steam-ship like this to ask questions of the offi- cers and men while they are on duty." So saying, Lawrence pointed to an inscription on the brass covering of one of the compasses, saying that passen- gers were requested not to hold conversation with the offi- cers when on duty. " But I saw one of the passengers talking with an offi- cer," said Flippy. " Yes," replied Lawrence, " all such rules have excep- D 74 THE FIRE IN THE STREET. tions. He may have been an acquaintance of the officer, and so may have felt himself authorized to speak to him. Or he may have been inconsiderate, or ignorant of the rule, and the officer would not refuse to answer him, not willing to be rude." " I don't see what harm there could be in any of them just answering a question," said Flippy. "It would not take him but a minute." " It would only take him a minute to answer one ques- tion," said Lawrence, "but he would have an immense number to answer if every body was at liberty to ask them. You see at every voyage they take on board sev- eral hundred fresh passengers, nearly all of them very ig- norant, and full of curiosity about every thing they see ; and if it was understood that they might all ask as many questions as they pleased, the time of the ship's company would be half taken up in answering, over and over again, the same inquiries. And they are under no obligation to do this. What we pay our passage-money "for is to be conveyed across the Atlantic, not to be taught the myste- ries of the rigging and management of the ships." John kept a journal. It was a pictorial journal. He pasted pictures in it, such as he could find, that illustrated the scenes and incidents that he met with, and then wrote brief descriptions under them. When Flippy saw this journal of John's, he said he wished that he had one. If he had thought of such a thing, he said, he would have bought him a book for it in New York. Lawrence told him that if he chose he could begin his journal on separate pieces of paper while he was at sea, and then he could buy a book at Liverpool and paste them in for the beginning of his book. "But they won't look like the rest of the book," said Flip- py, "if they are written on different papers and pasted in." THE JOGGLING. 75 " Then you can copy them in," said Lawrence. " That won't be much trouble." " No," replied Flippy ; " but I haven't any pictures." "I can give you some pictures," rejoined Lawrence " enough to last through the voyage. You will not want many till we get to England, for before long we shall prob- ably have rough weather, and then you can't write." " The tables tremble so every where," said John, " that it is very hard to write now." " True," replied Lawrence ; " but the more energy and perseverance you show in overcoming such difficulties as that, the more merit there is, and the more you will value your journal in time to come." " But the writing does not look well,"